Category: Church Social Teaching

Dean Det­t­loff at Amer­i­ca Mag­a­zine seems to think there is one, but he doesn’t give us a Catholic case for Com­mu­nism either. Much of his arti­cle is spent telling us that many Com­mu­nists are very nice peo­ple, and they’re not all athe­ists, and a lot of their goals are things the Catholic Church is friend­ly to. I’m sur­prised any of that is in dis­pute. Det­t­loff does not tell us why Com­mu­nism is a good way to achieve any of them; he just tells us the goals are nice. Nor does he account for St. John Paul II’s words con­demn­ing Com­mu­nism in Centes­simus Annus.

Recent­ly a meme made its way around Face­book; and on the left side, it depict­ed a mem­ber of the U.S. mil­i­tary; and on the right, a Mex­i­can attempt­ing to scale a wall. The meme told us that the sol­dier deserves free health care and the Mex­i­can does not. He’s break­ing a law, don’t you know? What dis­turbed me most — per­haps it ought not have – was, the rea­son I came across this meme in the first place was because a well-known Catholic apol­o­gist shared it. The nar­ra­tive we’re sup­posed to accept here is that health care is a reward.

One self-appoint­ed Catholic sage writes: “Once they”–they here mean­ing the so-called Catholic Left–“get start­ed down the SJW trail, they just keep going.” That’s a nov­el con­cept: Social jus­tice as a sort of gate­way drug to more and more extreme forms of dis­sent. Cer­tain­ly that is not how the Church under­stands it. The acronym “SJW” is meant to be a pejo­ra­tive, and I used to bris­tle at it. But when I read the above dic­tum from The Sage, I won­dered why I ever should have. Social jus­tice is an impor­tant part of Catholic teach­ing. Of course I’m a war­rior for Catholic teach­ing.

The Com­pendi­um of the Social Doc­trine of the Church. When I have writ­ten about Church social teach­ing on this blog, that’s the only text I have ever cit­ed. (Well, okay, I’ve also cit­ed Gaudi­um et Spes and papal encycli­cals that com­prise Church social teach­ing, such as Rerum Novarum or Quadra­ges­i­mo Anno or Car­i­tas in Ver­i­tate.) But my point is: When I write about Church teach­ing, I cite Church doc­u­ments. When I want to know what the Church teach­es, I read the Church. If you want to know what Augus­tine thought, read Augus­tine.

On March 26, 1967, Pope Paul VI pub­lished Pop­u­lo­rum Pro­gres­sio. It is about the right to a just wage, employ­ment, safe work­ing con­di­tions, to join a union, and the uni­ver­sal des­ti­na­tion of goods. Did I miss it last year when Catholics threw a 50th birth­day par­ty for Pop­u­lo­rum Pro­gres­sio? I mean, John Paul II thought it mer­it­ed birth­day cel­e­bra­tions. In 1987, he cel­e­brat­ed it with a brand new encycli­cal. You may recall. It was called Sol­lic­i­tu­do Rei Socialis. John Paul II said that PP was a “dis­tin­guished” addi­tion to Catholic social teach­ing.

Some­one saith that though, yes, we do owe the Church reli­gious assent even when it does not speak infal­li­bly, but still and all, I will “eat my hat” if you can find the term “social jus­tice” in any encycli­cal. Real­ly? In Quadra­ges­i­mo Anno (1931), Pope Pius XI uses the term nine times. He writes: “To each, there­fore, must be giv­en his own share of goods … [in] con­for­mi­ty with the norms of the com­mon good, that is, social jus­tice.” Social jus­tice is part of the “moral law,” says Pius XI; it is, by 1931, “firm­ly estab­lished” in Church teach­ing. Some hat-eat­ing is in order, methinks.

Last month, Michael Hich­born made the lunatic claim that Judas Iscar­i­ot is “the patron saint of social jus­tice.” In truth, it would be St. Mar­tin de Por­res. But in addi­tion to the weird­ness about Judas, Mr. Hich­born also denied the exis­tence of social sin. In the awk­ward and inept frag­ments that are his hall­mark, he wrote: “True social jus­tice? Rejects the idea of social sin. There is no such thing.” Real­ly? No such thing, huh? How very odd, then, to find that Pope St. John Paul II defines social sin at some length in Rec­on­cil­i­a­tio et Paen­i­ten­tia. Has Mr. Hich­born not read it?