Book Review: Catholic Social Teaching

Catholic Social Teaching, 1891-Present: A Historical, Theological, and Ethical Analysis by Charles E. Curran (Washington, D.C.: Georgetown University Press, 2002. 272 pp)

Born in New York, Charles Curran received his B.A. from St. Bernard’s College. Upon earning two doctorates in theology in Rome, he was ordained for the Diocese of Rochester. In 1965, Curran was appointed to the faculty of Catholic University of America. Throughout his distinguished career, Curran has been in conflict with the Church’s teaching on various moral issues. Despite maintaining a position of “faithful dissent,” the Vatican declared that Curran step down from faculty in 1986. Now, Curran serves as the Elizabeth Sherlock University Professor of Human Values at Southern Methodist University.

The Industrial Revolution 

The rise of the Industrial Revolution caused Christians to reconsider their preconceived notions of work and ethics. While society previously functioned on an agrarian-based economy with subsistence acting as the core value, the Industrial Revolution introduced the notion of capital. Although Locke primarily proposed property as a God-given gift ensuring survival in nature, the Industrial Revolution transformed property into a self-generating monetary giant. Capitalists could leverage property in order to gain more property and the Church needed to address this shift. Beginning in the late 19th century, the Catholic Church began noting the social issues of laborers and the poor in a body of thought now known as “Catholic social teaching.”

While Charles Curran’s Catholic Social Teaching exists as a holistic ethical position, for the sake of brevity I will focus on the movement’s methodology before applying it to economic thought.

“Both-And”

In order to evaluate the influence of Catholic social teaching, Curran begins with the theological methodology behind the movement. But first, it is important to note that Catholic theology always emphasizes the notion of a “both-and” approach instead of an “either-or” approach. The word “catholic” means universal.

Theology in the Catholic tradition strives for a universal appeal. If an issue caters to a “both-and” approach over an “either-or” approach, Catholic theology points to the inclusive option. This notion is easily seen when viewing Curran’s proposed canon for Catholic social teaching, the past 100 years portray shifts in ideology yet the overall thread of “catholic-ness” remains the same.

Reason and Natural Law 

Photo by Ramon Duran

To illustrate the theological methodology of Catholic social teaching, Curran separates the positions in to pre- and post-Vatican II. Pre-Vatican II, Curran suggests that Catholic social teaching emphasizes reason and natural law; Post-Vatican II, Curran suggests a shift toward a preferential option for the poor. Beginning with Leo XIII’s encyclical, Rerum novarum, we clearly see the influence of Thomas Aquinas and the elevation of reason and natural law in theological methodology. Curran notes:

“Rerum novarum recognizes the important role of reason as a source for moral teaching and frequently invokes natural law and its principles. The first part of the encyclical proves the human right to private property, in opposition to the socialist position. The right to have property as one’s own is based on human nature and is one of the chief points of distinction between human beings and all other animals” (26).

Curran contends that the normative position of private property finds purchase in Rerum novarum precisely because of the laws of nature and the reasonableness of the position. This line of reasoning runs directly from Thomistic principles.

Preferring the Poor 

However, a shift from natural law and reason governing theological methodology occurs post-Vatican II. No longer did natural law offer the citation for universal statements. Catholic teachers, with the help of the new field of liberation theology, began to recognize the different lenses by which human beings view the world. Reason, then, is not a universal truth created in Rome, but rather a construction influenced by regional context. Curran suggests that Catholic social teaching shifts to a theological methodology of solidarity:

“Solidarity helps us see the ‘other’—whether that other is a person, people, or nation—not just as an object to be exploited but as our neighbor and helper, called with us to share in the banquet of life which all are invited equally by God. The church has an evangelical duty to take her stand beside poor people, helping them satisfy their basic rights without losing sight of other groups and the common good” (36).

Without condemning the previous teaching documents that rely on reason and natural law for its premises, post-Vatican II documents shift to a theological focus on the preferential option for the poor.

Ethical Methodology: Historical Consciousness and Individualism 

From theology, an ethical methodology flows. Curran proposes that Catholic social teaching focuses on the shift to historical consciousness (even though John Paul II’s writing opposes this concept) and a greater emphasis on individualism.

To begin, where previous ethical trends in the Catholic Church focused on immutable truth, Catholic social teaching centers on historical consciousness. Curran states,

“Historical consciousness gives more importance to the particular, the contingent, the historical, and the changing” (54).

The shift to historical consciousness recognizes the particular context of cultures. The context of Rome differs from that of Latin America. As such, Catholic social teaching desires to remain ethically conscious of these differences.

Secondly, Catholic social teaching emphasizes the person as a subject. Curran argues,

“The Catholic tradition in general and Catholic social teaching in particular traditionally have emphasized the basic dignity of the human being who is an image of God through reason and the power of self-determination” (67).

For this reason, Catholic social tradition tends to recognize the rights of the marginalized whether it is the poor in society or the exploited workers in urban factories. Ethically speaking, a person who is an image of God deserves basic human dignity.

An Economic Order: Where Catholic Social Teaching, Locke, and Wesley Meet

Photo by Catholic Church (England and Wales)

Upon settling theological and ethical methodology, Curran explores the ways in which Catholic social teaching informs the economic order. He concludes that the movement influences the both purpose of material goods and wealth and the preferential option for the poor, among other issues.

Similar to John Locke’s argument for private property, Catholic social teaching operates under the premise of private property in the economic order. Leaning on the principles of dominion found in Genesis, Catholic social teaching affirms both the intrinsic value of work and the value of the laborer completing the work.

Even though Catholic social teaching affirms the intrinsic right to private property, it differs from Locke’s conception of private property specifically in its instrumentality. Curran writes,

“In this life, private property must always be justified by how it relates to the destiny of the goods of creation to serve the needs of all. Private property is not the first and most important reality with regard to the understanding of material goods and wealth” (181).

While Locke and proponents of Catholic social teaching agree on the principle of private property, Catholic social teaching differs from Lock in that private property exists for others not for the individual.

Likewise, Catholic social teaching resembles the theology of John Wesley when it promotes the preferential option for the poor. As mentioned earlier, Catholic social teaching believes that the plight of the poor carries special consideration. As such, Catholic social teaching promotes a distributive justice similar to Wesley. The movement suggests that justice function proportionally, not arithmetically. Meaning, Catholic social teaching promotes justice that disproportionally taxes the rich instead of a system that taxes equally.

Speaking in economic terms, Curran states,

“Justice for the worker insists on the fundamental importance of the material needs of the worker but calls for something in addition—active participation and sharing by the worker in the enterprise” (195).

Much like Wesley’s third principle of “giving all you can” in his sermon, “The Use of Money,” the distributive justice in Catholic social teaching urges the affluent to give to the poor. In business terms, Catholic social teaching strives to widen ownership. Where capitalism usually concentrates power at the top amongst a few people, Catholic social teaching desires greater rights for the workers.

Conclusion 

Catholic social teaching addresses the economic shift from agrarian to industrial methods. Beginning with a catholic theology that includes reason, natural law, and a preference for the poor, Catholic social teaching professes an ethic that promotes historical consciousness and individualism. While similar to Locke in the promotion of private property, Catholic social teachings takes a further step suggesting that private property exists for external ends. The movement also agrees with Wesley in promoting a distributive justice that requests a “give-all-you-can” attitude of Christian people.

If you are interested in Catholic theology and another way of doing business, I recommend Charles Curran’s Catholic Social Teaching.

Verdict: 4.5 out of 5

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Posted by: Donovan Richards

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Book Review: Wolf Hall

Wolf Hall: A Novel by Hilary Mantel (New York: Henry Holt and Company, 2009. 604 pp)

Born in 1952, Hilary Mantel is a novelist, short story writer, and critic. Mantel began studying at the London School of Economics before transferring to the University of Sheffield where she graduated with a degree in jurisprudence. While employed as a social worker after her studies, Mantel began writing. After a decade of travel with her husband, Mantel published her first novel, Every Day is Mother’s Day, in 1985. On the heels of her first novel, Mantel found employment as a film critic for The Spectator. Over the course of her writing career, Mantel has won the Winifred Holtby Memorial Prize for Fludd, the Sunday Express Book of the Year for A Place of Greater Safety, the Hawthornden Prize for An Experiment in Love, the MIND “Book of the Year” for Giving Up the Ghost, and the prestigious Man Booker Prize for Wolf Hall. In 2006, Mantel was appointed Commander of the Order of the British Empire.

A Consideration of Death

Whether we admit it or not, humanity holds a complicated relationship with death. It hovers as a dark cloud over life. When ignored, death feels abstract and distant; when considered, it ominously taps its fingers and reminds us that every second brings us one step closer to that point of no return.

Despite these feelings of dread, many simultaneously wish death on those who “deserve it”. When Obama announced the death of Osama Bin Laden, the Twitter-verse created two camps. On one side, people rejoiced in justice but mourned the loss of life. On the other, bloodlust boiled over as retribution found the light of day. For most in current times, this sort of death feels like just deserts.

Henry VIII from the Eyes of Cromwell

With these themes swirling through my mind, I read Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall. In this tome, Mantel exhaustively – in both senses of the word – chronicles the beginning stages of Henry VIII’s divorce from Catherine, separation from the Roman Catholic Church, and marriage to Anne Boleyn from the perspective of Thomas Cromwell.

The book begins with a young Cromwell receiving the brunt of his father’s unjust punishment. This passage sets the stage for what Thomas becomes – a self-starting lawyer who climbed the ranks of England.

Cromwell vs. More

As much as Wolf Hall tells the story of Cromwell’s connection to the monarchy, it also portrays the complicated relationship between Cromwell and Thomas More. Where Cromwell wryly plays the “royal game” yet understands the value of human decency, More lives under a principle-based philosophy at home and in court.

Archaic Justice

Although Mantel details the overarching storyline or the era superbly, my thoughts continuously wandered to the antiquated forms of justice presented throughout the book. Our counterparts from the middle ages carried a vast array of creative executions from burning at the stake and boiling people alive to beheading those fortunate enough for a relatively quick and painless end.

In an ironic passage, Mantel writes,

“What lodges in his mind, Thomas Cromwell’s, is that somebody makes these instruments of daily torture. Someone combs the horsehair into coarse tufts, knots them and chops the blunt ends, knowing that their purpose is to snap off under the skin and irritate it into weeping sores. Is it monks who make them, knotting and snipping in a fury of righteousness, chuckling at the thought of the pain they will cause to persons unknown? Are simple villagers paid – how, by the dozen? – for making flails with waxed knots? Does it keep farmworkers busy during the slow winter months? When the money for their honest labor is put into their hands, do the makers think of the hands that will pick up the product?

We don’t have to invite pain in, he thinks. It’s waiting for us: sooner rather than later. Ask the virgins of Rome.

He thinks, also, that people ought to be found better jobs” (72).

Theological Justice

Although this passage hints at Cromwell’s aversion to torturous devices, he remains an individual devoted to the law and therefore, to executing the guilty. But, Cromwell’s duty to the law pales in comparison to More’s senseless joy at the expense of the heretic:

“The word is that the Lord Chancellor has become a master in the twin arts of stretching and compressing the servants of God. When heretics are taken, he stands by at the Tower while the torture is applied. It is reported that in his gatehouse at Chelsea he keeps suspects in the stocks, while he preaches at them and harries them: the name of your printer, the name of the master of the ship that brought these books to England. They say he uses the whip, the manacles and the torment-frame they call Skeffington’s Daughter. It is a portable device, into which a man is folded, knees to chest, with a hoop of iron across his back; by means of a screw, the hoop is tightened until his ribs crack. It takes art to make sure the man does not suffocate: for if he does, everything he knows is lost” (244-245).

Additionally, Mantel adds a socio-economic angle when she writes about the execution of a lowly nun:

“She has five days to live. The last person she will see as she climbs the ladder is her executioner, holding out his paw. If she cannot pay her way at the last, she may suffer longer than she needs. She had imagined how long it takes to burn, but not how long it takes to choke at the end of a rope. In England there is no mercy for the poor. You pay for everything, even a broken neck” (472).

Are We Much Different than 16^th Century England?

Again, it is imperative to remind you that Wolf Hall contains much more than vivid scenes of execution. Yet over the course of reading this book, I found myself torn. It is easy to reject these acts of violence a priori. 

From our objective thrones in the 21^st century, we rightly judge these acts of punishment to be barbaric.

But on the other hand, I want to know why humanity acted this way. Clearly, certain sections of humankind still view death in some shape or form as a just punishment. Are we really much different than 16^th century England?

This question is much more complicated.

The Role of the Church

Clearly, the differences between 16^th century England and current times are drastic. First, the view of the human body differs considerably. In the Tudor’s era, the Roman Catholic Church functioned as the sole distributor of grace in its jurisdiction. As such, many believed that salvation occurs only through the gracious actions of church leadership. Additionally, the Church believed that it, as the steward of God’s kingdom on earth, owned the bodies of the flock.

For this reason, those who question the authority of the church faced grave danger because they lived at a time where they had no legal possession of their body. In other words, the church – which carried the rights to the physical sacraments that saved the body – could decide to end a life for the sake of church unity.

Of course, such thoughts feel medieval and heinous, but they emerge from a worldview that considers unity under the one, holy, and catholic church to be the necessary requirements for salvation.

The Virtue of Dialogue and Competing Philosophies

Thus, while the easy analysis breaks down to a thank-God-we-don’t-do-that-anymore statement (if that statement is even true), a more in depth look allows us to profess thankfulness for allowing dialogue and competing philosophies to exist simultaneously.

Mantel’s Man-Booker-winning tome offers a comprehensive look at the political, theological, and romantic aspects of Henry VIII’s complicated monarchy. It provides a fresh perspective by telling the story through the eyes of Thomas Cromwell. Of the many facets running through the book, I found myself pondering the views of justice and violence during that time period. Of course, I am glad that we no longer execute citizens for theological disputes. But, I am more grateful for our ability to discuss conflicting views and live together despite our differences. Wolf Hall is well written and well worth your time.