by Gavin Reese
Michael cleared his throat and replied. “To be fair, I believe the intent behind the change was to ensure the sinner, the criminal in this case, had the full length of his natural life to offer confession and seek absolution for his actions.”
“I agree,” the monsignor responded, “but, if they refuse to seek God’s mercy and absolution without significant external pressure, like that provided by a looming death sentence, won’t they now just spend additional years in misery and only seek forgiveness at a much later, and unscheduled, unpredictable eleventh hour?”
Michael had to concede the point. “I can’t say that isn’t accurate.”
“Thus, if certain evils cannot be rehabilitated, and men suffering from these afflictions die unexpectedly during a life sentence and never feel the pressure of an imminent deadline to compel them to seek God, haven’t we actually condemned their soul to Hell, rather than providing the apparent, intended dignity of confession and absolution?”
Michael leaned back in his chair and considered the monsignor’s argument. An ideological policy that discounts actual human nature.
“What would you say,” Father Harry asked, stopped pacing, and continued speaking to the group at-large. “Could God use specific, select members of His children to separate these infected souls from their mortal shells, perhaps in such a way as to offer them a final absolution before they’ve had another chance to sully their soul? Perhaps offer their soul its only conceivable chance at eternal salvation?”
The room fell silent, and Michael wanted to ensure he understood the monsignor’s question. “Father Harry, are asking if it would be just for someone to kill another, specifically for the purpose of saving their soul?”
“In short, yes, as in a case like that of a psychopathic serial killer that’s immune to change. He knows, science knows, reasonable people everywhere know it. God knows it. So, with that understanding, I want to postulate an argument that it is permissible to work in unorthodox ways to save his soul.”
“Like an anti-Hamlet,” Z offered in his thick Carolina accent.
“I’m sorry, I don’t follow,” Harry admitted, frowned, and very slightly shook his head.
“So, Hamlet’s the prince of Denmark. Hamlet’s uncle murdered his father the king, married his grieving mother, the queen, and Hamlet finds out about all that. He wants to kill his uncle, who’s now his step-dad, but when he finally finds him alone, he’s knelt down in prayer. Hamlet starts to go through with it, but then figures he’d be doing his murderous uncle a favor by killin’ him after he’s absolved his sins and his soul’s about as clean as it’s ever gonna be. So, he decides to come back later, but, turns out he should’ve just gone through with it.”
“Yes,” Harry replied, “I suppose that is a fair analogy.”
Michael appreciated the historical, literary reference, but wanted to bring the discussion back to their doctrine. “I think one of the paragraphs that’s near 22-67 addresses this topic, depending on the reason for the death.”
“I’ve got the Catechism here,” Phillip announced while flipping through the pages of a small hard-cover on the table in front of him. “Let’s see. 22-64, this one allows for self-defense even if it results in harm or death of the unjust aggressor. Not really a good fit, unless that condition applies.
“22-65,” he continued, “this one deals with, defense and, okay. Got it. Yep, 22-65. ‘Those tasked with the defense and care of others have not only a right to legitimate use of force, but in fact endure a grave duty to do so. Common societal defense requires, when necessary, that unjust aggressors are made harmless. Thus, all in just authority may reasonably use the arms necessary to defend civility and deter aggression.”
Father Harry held a neutral expression and looked around at the small group, as though waiting for a response to the reading. “I offer that the clergy have responsibility for the lives and eternal welfare of those around them. If the police are not held accountable to prevent crime, neither then can the priest be accountable to prevent sin. However, by different means, both are responsible for helping all involved to pick up their mess, ensure the unjust aggressor is ‘made harmless,’ and productively move forward. Therefore, do you agree that priests may, in fact, have a grave duty to act on behalf of their communities and neighbors?”
Damn, Michael thought, never read those paragraphs in this context, I’ve always limited its application to cops and the military. As it’s written, though, that absolutely applies to anyone entrusted or responsible for the defense of a community. Nothing to suggest it wouldn’t apply to a priest or duly appointed guardian of the Holy See.
Father Harry resumed a slow pace at the front of the room. “Given our knowledge of the evils that research scientists and psychologists call ‘personality disorders,’ well, the worst and most dangerous of them, anyway. Given that, rehabilitation is impossible, known recidivism rates are so excessively high, and self-reported recidivism rates among these people is nearly one-hundred-percent; when we combine that reality with our understanding of the legitimate right and grave duty of those responsible to protect other human dignity and human life, we’re left to navigate a tremendous moral minefield. Paragraph 22-65 only adds to this, as its second sentence demands, ‘that unjust aggressors are made harmless.’
“Under such conditions,” Harry continued, “could a person with such responsibility morally, ethically, or Biblically justify allowing a person whose internal evils have caused irreparable harm to the lives and dignity of those around them, could the protector ever justify allowing the aggressor another opportunity to predictably and surely repeat his aggression, when he is required to render him harmless?”
Harry opened his arms and held his hands, palms up, just out to his sides as though pleading with them for an answer. “Wouldn’t the protector, tasked with such legitimate and grave authority, in that circumstance, wouldn’t he be obligated to cleave the aggressor’s evil from his body, particularly if he were able to absolve the aggressor of his sins in the process? Isn’t such a method the only viable and momentary avenue to absolve certain aggressors of their unjust evils and, therefore, allow them their best and only available opportunity to spend eternity in the warmth of God’s embrace?”
Gobsmacked by the never-before considered implications debated before him, Michael leaned back in his seat and sought his own intrinsic answer. I’ve philosophically agreed with the death penalty my whole life, that a few offenses were so terrible to cost the life of the offender, but I’ve never looked at it from this narrow perspective.
Phillip remained focused on his copy of the Catechism and seemed oblivious to the paradigm-shifting debate unfolding around him. “Got another one,” he announced. “22-66, won’t read the whole thing, it’s a long one, but, basically, it allows authority figures to inflict punishment that corresponds to the level of the aggressor’s offense. These last few lines seem especially relevant, though. ‘Beyond its ability to maintain public safety and ensure human dignity, punitive measures have a therapeutic effect.’ Just above that, it specified that when the aggressor consents to punishment, those measures are cleansing. Going on, ‘it,’ the punishment, it means here, ‘must rehabilitate the psyche and soul of the convicted.’”
Father Harry still scanned the room, letting them mull over his ethical dilemma. “Punishment has a medicinal purpose,” he paraphrased, “especially if that were to include the sacraments traditionally known as Last Rites. I argue that this only adds to the validity of my theory.”
Amazed at the revelations presented to him, Michael consciously closed his jaw and hesitantly broke the intense silence that had encapsulated the room. “For me, it seems like someone tasked with that responsibility could actually be reticent in their duties if they allowed that very specific, rare aggressor any path but immortal absolution and an immediate mortal death.” Son of a bitch…what if this is why they have us here in the first place?
TWENTY-ONE
Training Day 4, 2032 h
ours.
Rural Compound. Niobrara County, Wyoming.
After cleaning and putting away the dinner dishes and leftovers, Michael and his classmates headed downstairs. This seemed to be the only personal time afforded them, and Michael expected to use these few daily hours for prayer, meditation, and letter writing. The folks got used to a couple letters every week while I was in South America, and I know they’d be disappointed if that changed. Maybe tomorrow, though, I need to spend a little time isolated tonight. Once in the basement, he flopped down on his bed and found his headphones. Ironically, Enigma oughta help me meditate. In his peripheral vision, Michael saw Sergio stuck to his medicine ball routine. Wonder how long it takes him to wear out a medicine ball?
“That was some left-field shit today,” Bartholomew announced as soon as he stepped onto the basement floor. “What’d you guys think about the info-mercial philosophy at the end of our Freud lesson?”
“The murder, killing, and avenging-Christ-angel theory,” Zeb asked.
Matthias spoke up. “Yeah, but, more like a Saint Michael, I think, a righteous avenger.”
“I still don’t understand how you worked Hamlet into Catechism philosophy, Z,” Bartholomew incredulously offered.
“Not a stretch at all, heck, it’s effectively the exact same debate we were having, just that Hamlet wanted to send his uncle’s soul to hell.” Z gave Bart a coy smirk. “I don’t wanna spoil the rest-a the story for you.”
“No chance there, didn’t even wanna see the damned movie.”
“Which one?”
“There’s more than one Hamlet movie? Isn’t one enough?”
“You might oughta consider readin’ a book once in a while,” Z countered, “you might just figure out that readin’ about the secular enforces your beliefs and faith in the divine.”
“I don’t think embracing the secular can possibly improve my understanding and love for the divine, Z,” Bartholomew retorted. “That doesn’t even make sense to me. Anyone else feel pretty hot about the garbage philosophy Father Harry tried to ram down our throats today?”
Sergio stopped tossing his medicine ball and, like many of them, turned toward Bartholomew. His apparent animosity about the earlier morality discussion commanded their attention.
“I’d keep it down just a bit,” Michael advised, “Pretty sure our ceiling’s not soundproof.”
“I don’t care what they hear,” Bartholomew sharply replied. “I think it’s terrible they let that guy drag us through that today. How audacious does he have to be to sell us on murder?! I mean, it’s outrageous that a man of the cloth would advocate the loss of a single human life!”
“Actually, I liked his perspective,” Sergio offered. “I feel like a lot of Christians, both Catholics and Protestant, get so wrapped up trying to turn the other cheek that bullies and despots get to ride roughshod over entire countries and regions for decades.”
“He wasn’t talking about that, Jude,” Bartholomew responded to Sergio by his pseudonym, “he was talking about homicide! Murder! If Father Harry had bothered to let Phillip keep moving through the Catechism, the very next section would’ve very plainly laid out the prohibitions on his stupid little hypothesis. ‘Thou shalt not kill.’ It’s just that simple.”
“It’s not, actually,” Michael countered and tried to keep his blood pressure down. I don’t mind debating differences, but this guy won’t rest until he gets us to confirm his misunderstanding. “So, every cop, every soldier, every parent, anyone who defends themselves or someone else from a murderer, and kills the bad guy in the process, they’ve all committed the same mortal sin? Surely you don’t think so!”
“Yes, they have, actually, there is no asterisk in the scripture!”
Michael shook his head and tried to adopt a sympathetic tone. “Even the Catechism paragraphs on intentional homicide are qualified to allow for the existence of a ‘proportionate reason,’ Bart.”
Now Bartholomew shook his head but didn’t strive for the same sympathetic inflection. “Without a clear understanding of those specific and narrow reasons, we have no just cause to end the life of another person.”
“Well, then we have nothing to talk about,” Michael announced and put his hands up to show his surrender, “and I’m happy to agree to disagree.” I’ve always known Catholics are found all across the philosophical and political spectrum, but his view almost requires a merciless God. “I suppose I oughta be grateful you’re not who’s gonna judge my soul and sins someday, Bartholomew. Your rules might be a little too absolute for me to live up to.”
TWENTY-TWO
Training Day 5, 0728 hours.
Rural Compound. Niobrara County, Wyoming.
Michael hurriedly strode into the converted classroom and found his usual chair, sat down at the plastic banquet table, and glanced at his watch. Dammit. Five minutes early might still be ten minutes late, but John’s schedule isn’t ever gonna let me show up ‘on time.’ Maybe I can shave a few minutes somewhere without being a selfish, raging asshole to everyone else that’s gotta get to the same place by the same time.
The classroom’s back door opened, and Michael turned to see Alpha and Father Harry walking inside. Looks like more ethics and moral theory, Michael thought.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” Harry greeted them as Alpha sat down at his place at the front banquet table. “I’d like to start off the day with a little more discussion, in hopes of engaging your deductive reasoning as well as John and his associates are engaging your physical being. It’s a tall order,” he smiled, “but I feel that we’re more than up to the task. We’re going to begin our dialogue with the topic of scandal. Does anyone wish to offer an example of something that might be called a scandal?”
Phillip half-raised his hand and spoke only after Father Harry acknowledged him. “Wouldn’t any organized crime qualify?”
“Yes, that’s a good, broad example that encompasses much of the worst human conduct in our societies’ criminal codes. What else?”
“Convincing someone to turn away from God,” Alpha offered in his French accent.
“That’s a great example,” Harry responded, “and I think it’s one of the most heinous offenses that our society so greatly underestimates. We think nothing of commercial marketing campaigns that encourage our entire culture to serve our selfish, internal needs, sleep in on the weekends, spend the holy days watching millionaires play games that don’t matter, eat and drink to excess, and, all the while, persecuting Christians for their beliefs. A quarterback is chastised and ridiculed for kneeling in silence to express his gratitude to God, while hundreds of others are celebrated for kneeling in protest. Everyone involved in that entire campaign, that entire conspiratorial effort, has actually engaged in scandal against God and His people. Please turn in your copies of the Catechism to 22-84, and I’d like someone to read aloud, please.”
“Scandal,” Z quickly offered, his Carolina accent seemingly subdued, “is individual or collective efforts that entice another to evil. He who tempts his neighbor damages virtue, morality, and honor, the result of which may be his neighbor’s spiritual death. If committed by deliberate action or omission, this constitutes a grave offense.”
“Thank you, ‘Z,’ is it,” Father Harry asked.
“Yes, sir, much easier on the ear than ‘Zealot.’”
“I can appreciate that,” Harry replied and smiled. “Someone else, 22-85?”
“22-85,” Thomas loudly read, “Scandal is worsened if those who cause or endorse it are in positions of authority over the scandalized. This abuse by authority compelled our Lord to swear that those who encourage sin would be better off drowning themselves. Scandal constitutes a grave offense if committed by those responsible for the instruction of those around them. In this regard, Christ equated the Pharisees and scribes to wolves in sheep’s clothing.”
“Thank you, Thomas,” Harry responded. “Next?”
Michael cleared his throat and read aloud. “22-86. Scan
dal may also begin by legislation, business practices, and social institutions. This includes those who support and create laws or societal constructs that detract from common morality, defame or disrupt religious worship, or generally obstruct practical obedience to Christian principles and the Commandments.”
“That, to me,” Harry offered, “is among the most powerful sections on this topic. The portion that addresses social conditions that make Christian life difficult is taken from a writing by Pope Pius XII. He said those words back in 1941, at a time when the world saw a particular persecution of religion, specifically Judaism, and I think he foresaw something of the current assault on our morals and values as mean-spirited, cruel, and homophobic. One more, who wants to offer it for us?”
