Germain Grisez Explains It All

(Well, Almost)

by Mark Brumley

Germain Grisez

Franciscan Press, Quincy, IL

927 pp.

A while back many readers of Catholic publications probably saw a letter to the editor from moral theologian Germain Grisez soliciting questions on a variety of ethical issues. At the time, I thought, "He will certainly get some doozies." Well, only a few of the 200 questions found in his new book Difficult Moral Questions can rightly be dubbed "doozies," but almost all of them are intriguing — as of course are Grisez’s answers.

Difficult Moral Questions is the third in a projected four-volume series of moral theology books by Grisez called The Way of the Lord Jesus. Volume one, Christian Moral Principles, laid the Grisezan foundation, trying to answer Vatican II’s call for a renewed moral theology faithful to Catholic teaching; volume two, Living a Christian Life, built on that foundation by explaining the moral responsibilities common to all Catholics as well as some duties belonging primarily to the laity. Volume four, according to Grisez, will examine the special responsibilities of clerics and religious and is slated for 2004.

Like other volumes in the series, Difficult Moral Questions is intended as a manual for seminaries and other instructional uses rather than for the casual reader. Unlike its two predecessors, the book is composed almost entirely of questions and answers (except for a preface and two appendices which summarize and recapitulate Grisez’s particular approach to moral theology explored in the two previous volumes). Some questions are "real" in the sense that they were posed by real people with real problems or at least drawn from real life situations. Other questions are fictitious, though still the kind of questions important to many people.

The book is useful on a number of levels. First, it provides sound answers to specific moral questions. Second, it restates the fundamental principles of Catholic morality. Third, it serves as a model of reliable moral reasoning in applying those principles to concrete situations and problems. In these ways, Difficult Moral Questions can be a valuable tool in the formation of both clergy and their lay collaborators.

Why "can be" and not "is"? The answer comes from Grisez himself, who cautions his prospective readers in a somewhat lengthy preface/user’s guide: "Warning: This book is dangerous. If used improperly, it could cause serious injury to the moral lives of its readers and/or people they mean to help." Grisez continues, "Two fundamental misconceptions of moral theology and its application in particular cases could lead to either misuses of the replies I propose here or a refusal to use them — perhaps even a refusal to consider them except as possible targets for scornful criticism."

He examines the two misconceptions by recounting an afternoon session at a seminary where he discussed two of the questions and answers treated in the book. According to Grisez, two faculty members vehemently rejected the whole notion of trying to answer people’s moral questions on the grounds that it amounted to telling others what to do. People should be left to follow their own consciences, the critics argued, and not inevitably be judged and condemned because they did not follow Grisez’s advice.

Obviously, Grisez did not agree with their assessment. Agreeing that people should follow their consciences, he noted that "some people think they need help in forming their consciences." An interesting and revealing exchange ensued, which Grisez suggests illustrates the two misconceptions of moral theology he mentioned. The first is the presupposition that "there are no general moral truths in whose light one might argue to a judgment that it would be right (or wrong) to make this or that choice." Grisez notes two problems with this. First, it contradicts the Judeo-Christian tradition — Scripture and tradition present general moral truths that can and are applied to specific cases. Second, it contradicts itself. As Grisez notes, "By maintaining that I should tell people to follow their own consciences and not tell them what to do and not do, the professors applies a norm, which they assumed true in general, to my unique case and told me what I should do and not do — thereby themselves doing what the norm they were assuming excluded."

The second misconception of moral theology which Grisez says might lend his book to abuse is legalism. Grisez says that this is the view the two argumentative seminary professors reacted against. They erroneously identified any affirmation of moral principles and their application to concrete situations as legalism. In fact, argues Grisez, legalism reduces moral principles and norms to mere rules to be imposed and obeyed, rather than as "practical truths that safeguard fundamental human goods and help reasonable persons and communities shape their actions and lives toward their own fulfillment and that of others." As mere rules, moral norms appear arbitrary or heteronomous, rather than reasonable and compatible with who and what we are as human persons. But understood in light of human goods, moral norms can be seen as principles by which human fulfillment is attained.

All of this introduces and "sets up" what follows in the book — a series of questions and answers on various subjects. Grisez’s format is straightforward. He presents a one-sentence summary question/title, then restates the question in greater depth. The expanded question weaves in details which complicate the situation and afford Grisez an opportunity to state the principles by which the question can be adequately answered. This he does in the analysis section that follows the question and which "identifies the type of moral problem the question presents, points out the tools to be employed in dealing with it, and states how they must be used." More than a summary of the answer, the analysis section is really a warm-up to the lengthier reply that follows.

So much for how Grisez structures the questions and answers. We turn now to their scope — which is wide-ranging. "Must a family participate in a parish tithing program?" (no. 14); "Should a physician advise possible carriers of genetic disease?" (no. 65); "May a far mer continue planting tobacco?" (no. 140); "Should the family of someone marrying invalidly participate in the wedding?" (no. 36) — these are four questions drawn randomly to illustrate the book’s scope. The questions run the gamut, from family matters to professional topics, from sexual morality to business ethics. Obviously we cannot summarize all two hundred questions and answers here, so we will examine a few interesting examples.

Let us start with a familial question (no. 3): "May twins in conflict over Church teaching stop corresponding?" Some might think the question trivial, especially since the questioner asks what may be done rather than what must be done. But those familiar with pastoral issues know that such family questions are often crucial. Perhaps that is why Jesus said, "If you are offering your gift at the altar, and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift" (Matt 5:23-24). He did not say, "If you remember that you have something against your brother . . ." but "If you . . . remember that your brother has something against you . . ." Reconciliation among siblings is important, even when the problem lies with your brother or sister, not with you.

The question becomes more intriguing when laid out in detail. The twins, it seems, are brothers who no longer communicate due to religious differences. One brother is described as a "conservative" Catholic, the other — the questioner — a "progressive" who says that he draws "on mainstream theologians such as Charles Currant" for his views. Other siblings are similarly religiously divided. The "conservative" brother has stopped participating in the regular family exchanges of letters with the "progressive." So the latter asks, "What do I do to revive and build up friendship with my brother? Christ’s law of love says: ‘Go and be reconciled.’ But how can I when he doesn’t want to communicate any more?" The questioner sees only two solutions — keep writing but avoid controversy or quit sending family letters to the "conservative" brother.

Before answering, Grisez carefully analyzes the situation, as he does with all the questions. This is not merely a disagreement between brothers, but between Catholics over what Catholics may or may not affirm. As such, it impacts deeply the familial bond which should exist between Catholics as well as between brothers. Grisez states that the dissenting brother ought not to try to get his brother to approve or condone his views — the brother must not do that. Instead, the dissenting brother should "reexamine in his own position and try to engage in the communication appropriate between brothers who disagree about important matters."

Then Grisez replies at length: Charles Curran has been deprived of the title "Catholic theologian" by the Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith. As for the questioner’s dissent, Grisez writes bluntly, "Examine your conscience, repent of your dissent, and then go and be reconciled with your brother." That said, even if the dissenter is sincerely convinced that his views are right, he must at least stop pushing them on his brother or expect his brother to accept them as legitimate. That is tantamount to expecting his brother to abandon what he regards as true.

Friends, notes Grisez, can disagree over important things. But conflicts over faith within families is bound to produce some division. The "conservative" brother has unjustifiably heightened the division by withdrawing from the relationship, but the "progressive brother" also is at fault for forcing his dissenting views on his brother. In the end, Grisez urges the questioner to set aside his "false dilemma" of cutting himself off altogether from his brother or writing only about noncontroversial subjects, though he should "stop badgering him" with dissenting views. The brothers should "communicate again about other things, not least the many things family members still have in common, even when they are divided two against three and three against two."

Other questions examined by Grisez are "professional" — that is, concerned with professional persons in general or specific professions. For example, no. 9 asks, "What are the responsibilities of a professional suffering from burn out?" The moral principle Grisez addresses is whether one may continue in a profession despite the reduced quality of work due to burnout. Grisez’s answer: a qualified yes, so long as the questioner does his best and maintains the minimum standard of competence. Otherwise, the questioner must give up his profession. Also considered is whether some moral fault may underlie professional burnout. Grisez says it may, at least in part. The questioner should refocus himself on the true purpose of his profession and renew his original professional commitment to serving others, a commitment he is to a certain extent obliged to fulfill. He should not deliberately entertain thoughts bound only to heighten his dissatisfaction with his work, nor focus on his feelings. Grisez also raises the question of whether the questioner’s burnout might not be a chance to grow in holiness. He recommends consulting a spiritual director and accepting some dissatisfaction with the people the questioner serves professionally as part of the cross God has called him to carry.

Some of Grisez’s topics are questions faithful Catholics in the pew might pose. For example, question no. 11: "What should the faithful do about a priest’s liturgical abuses?" Grisez first explains why following liturgical norms is important, then he turns to approaching the pastor and what to do should that fail. His answer is realistic, not cynical. He does not assume that merely reporting the abuse, even in a charitable, respectful fashion will automatically resolve the problem. At the same time, Grisez respects sound ecclesiastical procedure and the rights of the respective parties — the pastor, his associate and the faithful of the parish — involved; he does not dismiss such things as ineffectual and therefore automatically dispensable.

Then there is the question (no. 138) all the computer users among us want to know: "May one ever violate the terms of a computer software license?" Grisez’s answer: Generally no, though this must be qualified in cases of the poor. The general principle here is the commandment against stealing and its implicit recognition of the property rights of software producers. Since property rights are not absolute, there are conditions under which, so Grisez argues, poor people might arguably violate the letter of the license. But that does not apply to most of us or at least in most situations.

Sometimes the answer to a question is evident from the Christian perspective, yet Grisez spends time on it to explain the principles behind the answer, thus helping readers to think through questions when the answers are not obvious. Question no. 21, for example, asks, "May a man wish that his sister would kill herself?" Granted, the details of the question cast the questioner in a more favorable light: the sister has burdened her brother repeatedly over the years with her drug abuse, quarrelsomeness, depression, ingratitude and a host of other difficulties. Even so, is it not plain that charity requires the man not to wish his sister’s suicide? Plain yes, easy, no. Then there is the complicating factor — the man is a priest. That complicates things not because priests are obliged to charity toward siblings where laymen are not, but because the sister’s activities have impinged on the priest’s pastoral responsibilities. Grisez’s response covers the wrongness of wishing suicide on anyone, especially a sister; the principles for assessing the scope of one’s familial responsibilities and the special problems such a situation poses for a pastor’s ministry.

Other questions Grisez addresses are more commonly posed in our secular society. For instance, "May an oppressed wife who should avoid pregnancy practice contraception?"; "Should the city council vote to supply needles to drug addicts?"; "May a state legislator support casino gambling to get tax revenue?" "Should morality limit public funding of the arts?" Again, the proper answers to such questions may seem obvious to the well-formed Catholic conscience, but a vital purpose is served by Grisez’s replies, even if we already know what should — or should not — be done. Sound moral reasoning is not always obvious, even to well-formed Catholic consciences. Thus, knowing that something is right or wrong is important; but understanding why it is right or wrong is, too, especially when trying to convince other Catholics or non-Catholics whose consciences are less well-developed or even malformed.

While we have only sampled Grisez’s answers, readers should be able to glean something of his approach. His answers are orthodox and thoughtful — though, as he himself concedes — they are not infallible. Reasonable people might differ over the specifics of his advice in this case or that, even while agreeing wholly with the principles from which his conclusions are drawn. Likewise with Grisez’s theories about "basic human goods" and the "modes of responsibility," which certainly undergird much of what he says (and which is well-summarized in the appendices), but which never lead him to conclusions contrary to the Church’s magisterium. Most important, Grisez humbly declares that if his answers do lead in practice to judgments contrary to Church teaching, people should follow the Church, not his answers — the antithesis of what we get from dissenting moral theologians today who either explicitly or implicitly invite people to agree with them over against the Church.