The Gift Of Tongues

A reader writes regarding an answer I gave on yesterday’s radio show:

I was a bit concerned with your response to the woman asking about her
friend who "has the gift of tongues" after having asked for it. From
what my priest has said (primarily using the works of St. Thomas
Aquinas, I believe), the gift of tongues is a charismatic Grace and
that NO charismatic Grace should be asked for as they are unnecessary
to salvation and they come with such a large responsibility.

While I would love to have a citation to St. Thomas Aquinas so that I could look up what passage your priest may have been thinking of, all I can say is that this is not the attitude of St. Paul. In 1 Corinthians 14:1, he writes:

Make love your aim, and earnestly desire the  spiritual gifts, especially that you may prophesy.

Since the gifts in question are the charismatic ones (prophecy, tongues, interpretation of tongues, etc.), Paul certainly is not discouraging people from wanting or even asking for these gifts. At one point he even instructs them to ask for such a gift:

 Therefore, he who speaks in a tongue  should pray for the power to interpret (1 Cor. 14:13).

While God may not give these gifts today as often as he did in the first century, meaning that there is less of a reason to ask for them to day, I don’t see how one could support the position that one should never ask for charismatic gifts.

One can be too concerned about charismatic gifts and that can lead one into problems (like manufacturing the appearance of them when God has not really given them), but the idea that one should never ask for them is not supportable from Scripture.

The reader continues:

Furthermore, many charismatic Graces can be immitated by devils, so
asking for such a Grace can open one up to devils.

This does not follow. If you ask God to give you a gift, that does not mean that you are creating an avenue for the devil to do something in your life. Asking God for a grace is never itself an avenue for the devil to do something. You must be doing something else (in addition to asking God) to open yourself up to evil.

It’s hard to see what that might be in this case. People who are interested in praying in tongues are generally pretty closed in spirit to the devil. Their wills are set in opposition to his. That makes it unlikely that he would be able to gain influence. The disposition of the will is crucial for that.

It would be more likely that people who are overly concerned about speaking in tongues would run ahead of God’s grace and manufacture the experience themselves–so that it is of natural origin–but if their wills are set on following God and not the devil then the he will not have an opening through which to affect them.

My priest actually
used the gift of tongues as an example, saying that one who truly has
that particular Grace understands what he is saying, like St. Catherine
of Sienna. God does not give such a Grace only to have the recipient be
in the dark.

If your priest said that then he again appears to be in disagreement with St. Paul, who is very clear than uninterpreted tongues are not understood by the speaker–including St. Paul himself! He writes:

For one who speaks in a tongue speaks not to men but to God; for no one
understands him, but he utters mysteries in the Spirit. . . .  For if I pray  in a tongue, my spirit prays but my mind is unfruitful. . . .  I thank God that I speak in  tongues more than you all; nevertheless, in church I would rather speak five words with my mind,
in order to instruct others, than ten thousand words in a tongue (1 Cor. 14:2, 14, 18-19).

The reader continues:

God gives that Grace to His saints so that they may teach
others and spread understanding, not confusion.

True, which is why Paul indicates that tongues should only be used in church if they are interpreted, making them equivalent to prophecy (1 Cor. 14:27-28, 5).

Furthermore, devils can
put words into one’s mouth, so this "gift" can easily be the work of a
devil, NOT the Holy Spirit.

I have no evidence of this whatsoever. Unless one has deliberately opened oneself up to someone other than God, this will not happen. As long as one’s will is oriented to God, the devil has no opening.

I’ve heard priests give examples of learned
scholars and priests going to Charismatic Masses where people were
"speaking in tongues" and these men who were fluent in other languages
reported that the words they heard uttered from some people with this
"gift" were in fact words that were, to be polite, not praising Our
Lord.

Without specifics, I can’t really comment on this. I would note, however, that there are also anecdotal reports of people who know other languages going to service where speaking in tongues was occurring and hearing people praise God in other languages.

In most cases, they reported that people were merely babbling. In
one case, a man knowingly recited part of the Ave Maria (in Latin,
obviously) and the one with the "gift" to translate these words quoted
nothing even close to the Hail Mary.

This is not evidence of the devil. It is evidence instead of people running ahead of God’s grace and manufacturing tongues or the interpretation of tongues, which is a phenomena that does happen.

 

It also seems to me that not telling this misled, if not
gullible, woman such information is doing her and all other listeners a
great disservice. Many listeners could have walked away from the
program today under the impression that asking for this delicate
charismatic Grace is a good thing to do. I would think that it would be
incredibly important to stress just the opposite.

A long time ago I learned two lessons: (1) Answer questions as they are put to you and (2) in a pastorally sensitive situation, don’t supply information that the inquirer hasn’t asked for unless there is a compelling reason and you can back up if you are challenged on it.

The lady who called in did not ask me my opinion of how often tongues are genuine, so I didn’t offer an opinion on this. I have my own view, but I cannot back it up from Church teaching or other sources. I thus was not asked about it and had no compelling reason to inject it into the discussion. It is a matter on which Catholics can hold different opinions.

Neither did the woman ask me about whether one should seek the gift of tongues. The Church does not teach that people should not seek this gift. I also disagree with the claim that one should never seek it. If someone asked me, I would explain the cautions that St. Paul gives in 1 Corinthians 14 regarding over-preoccupation with this gift, but saying that it should never be sought is simply not supportable. Consequently, I did not inject this into the discussion either.

I would think it
would be important to let people know that if they think they have this
Grace, they need to speak with their confessor so that he may determine
the nature of the "gift." For the welfare and safety of people’s souls,
they should not be made to think so lightly of such a huge burden.

Here is something that I agree with. The gift of tongues should not be treated lightly–that’s one of the things St. Paul is cautioning his readers against–and if one thinks that one is experiencing it, it is reasonable to seek the opinion of one’s confessor or others of sound judgment to try and determine if the experience is genuine.

I regret that I had to disagree with so much of what you wrote, but I’m glad that I could end on a note of agreement.

An Immaculate Sense Of Humor

A reader writes:

If we did not fall from grace, would we find anything funny or humorous?
Someone once suggested that we find things funny because they are based on
misfortune.

What’s your take on humor???

I’ve thought a lot about humor and the nature of humor. In everyday life, I use humor a lot (and with a good amount of success, though you always have to expect that 5-10% of the jokes you tell won’t get a laugh; risk is part of comedy), so it’s frustrating to be able to do something without being able to explain what you’re doing.

I have some thoughts on what makes things funny, but I haven’t yet sat down and devoted the brainpower to the topic to really try to crack the question (if that’s even possible for us humans).

I have read some treatments of humor, but not enough, and not ones I was happy with.

Some theorists do indeed posulate that humor is based on misfortune in a very strict way, but I think that they’re overplaying their hand. I’m not convinced that all humor involves misfortune.

Sometimes humor just involves wordplay, without anybody suffering or being the butt of a joke.

I can’t think of a specific example at the moment, but I often find that when I’m talking to a friend we discuss one topic and then, after the conversation has moved on to a new topic, it suddenly occurs to me that phrases that came up in our discussion of the first topic can also be applied to the new one.

When I deliver these phrases with the right timing (doing what is known among commedians as a "call back" because you’re calling back a previous line) the mere fact that the phrase has returned in a new context generates a pleased surprise on the part of the listener that produces a humorous response and laughter.

The more surprising the call back is (e.g., because of how long it’s been since it was first brought up) and the more apt it is to the current topic, the funnier it is.

Nobody gets hurt in this kind of comedy. It isn’t based on anybody undergoing suffering or embarrassment. It’s based on the joy of discovry and the delight of seeing a new connection one hadn’t noticed before.

I think that’s what’s behind a lot of wordplay humor. The joy we’re getting at it is the joy of seeing creativity in action, not laughter at anybody’s expense.

My basic theory is that when we have a humorous response to something then what we’re really doing is responding to a form of beauty. There’s something beautiful about humorous situations (even darkly humorous ones). It’s not a visual beauty like we see looking at a painting or an attractive person of the opposite sex. It’s not an audible beauty like we hear in good music. It’s a "situational" beauty that applies to certain situations.

The trick is to be able to cash it out and explain exactly what is beautiful about these situations that generates a humor response.

That’s not easy, but neither is it easy to say why a particular piece of music is beautiful or why a particular sunset is beautiful. That’s not to say it can’t be done; it’s just not easy, especially for a non-specialist.

To answer the question about the Fall of Man, it seems to me that there are two questions there:

(1) Would we have had the capacity to sense humor if we had not fallen and
(2) Would there have encountered any situations of the sort that would trigger our humor response if we had not fallen.

I think the answer to the first question is a definite yes.

Since the gospels never mention Jesus laughing, I had wondered whether he–as an unfallen man–would have done so, but I got my answer when I was spending time with some friends who had a tiny daughter who was born deaf.

Though this child was only three years old and had never heard laughter in her life, she laughed and shrieked and giggled her head off playing with her siblings. She wasn’t just imitating their mouth movements, either, but really laughing. That told me that laughter is a reflex built into human nature. It’s part of us, not just a learned response. It’s instinctive that even people who have never heard laughter still laugh. That means it was part of Jesus’ human nature, too.

We have other evidence as well, for Jesus sometimes uses humor in the gospels. In fact, he regularly uses irony and sarcasm (forms of humor) when dealing with evil people, as when he refers to "blind guides" or "the blind leading the blind."

So yes, we would have had the capacity for humor (what we might call "humor perception" or a sense of humor) even if we had not fallen.

Would there have been situations to elicit this response in us?

Most probably, yes. If I’m right about not all humor being misfortune-based then there definitely could have been. Maybe Adam and Eve entertained each other with wordplay as they worked out the first human language. Think of all the joyful wordplay connections they could make as they said things nobody had ever said before and made call backs when nobody had ever done that before.

Also, I can imagine Eve asking Adam what he’d named various animals and getting responses in some cases that were based on onomatopoeia, causing both of them to bust out laughing.

I’m not at all certain, though, that misfortune-based humor would have been absent. They could have, for example, laughed at the devil’s attempt to tempt them had it failed. And just as we can have a humor response to watching baby animals doing things (like leaping while playing and not quite making it), they might have laughted at them, too.

For that matter, the mere fact that we wouldn’t have died or suffered in the way that we did after the Fall doesn’t mean that paradise was totally . . . paradiasical. There might have been misfortunes, just not ones like we came to inherit as a result of the fall and our loss of whatever superpowers we had.

I mean, if you’re unfallen and not paying attention to where you’re walking and you stub your toe, it can still be funny.

So I suspect that, whatever the situation would have been like, humor would have existed. I also suspect that it would have been gentler on the whole than it is now. (Unless, maybe, you were making fun of that serpent that tried to trick you. You might have been viciously funny in that case.)

Praying for the Dead

A reader writes:

When a family member dies and one is unsure if they have been saved, can a living member pray for that person after they have died and possibly aid to their salvation.  From what I understand there is no time table that God lives in and its possible hhe could use prayers after the person has died to use for their salvation when they die.  Is there any scriptual reference to this?  I sure would appreciate an answer to this.

There are two ways in which people customarily pray for the dead. The most common of these is praying for the person to have their transition into heaven smoothed in some way (i.e., that they spend less time in purgatory or have their experience of purgatory made less paiful or something). This form of prayer for the dead does not aid the person’s salvation per se, since all those who are in purgatory will go to heaven and are thus saved in that sense, but it can aid the process by which their salvation is brought to completion.

The kind of prayer that you mention is discussed a lot less but it still goes on a great deal. It’s entirely natural, when someone died, to ask God to pray for the person’s salvation. Since a person either is or is not saved (i.e., destined for heaven) at the time they die, we can’t pray that the person will be saved after they die, but we can pray that they were saved when they died.

At the time we say such prayers, their death lies in the past, and so whether this is okay depends on whether it is okay to pray for things that have happened in the past.

The answer is that it is okay (normally) and the reason is the one you identify: God is outside of time and so he can apply prayer that you say today to events that were occuring yesterday (or at any point in the past).

The only time that it is not okay to pray for something in the past is when you are praying for something that you know was not the case. For example, I could not justly pray that the September 11th, 2001 attacks never happened. I know that they did, and so I can’t pray that God stop them since I know that he didn’t (at least in my timeline).

I can pray, even today in 2005, that all those who died in the attacks were saved, and God can apply my prayers to them back in 2001, but I can’t pray that the attacks didn’t happen.

The rule is that you can pray for any event in the past as long as you don’t know that its outcome was contrary to your prayer.

If you know that then it constitutes a form of presumption to pray for the contrary, but since we don’t know the salvation of our loved ones, you can pray for that.

Disasters Before The Fall

A reader writes:

We’ve been discussing the whole issue of Hurricane Katrina and God’s role in nature.  We have a grip on the whole problem of pain (thanks to Lewis and Kreeft), but we have another question concerning things like hurricanes, earthquakes, tornadoes and the like.  Did those things exist before "the fall" or are they a result of "the fall"? 

Scripture does not address this question directly, except possibly in the case of hurricanes. Hurricanes involve rain, and there is a passage in Genesis that many have taken to mean that there was no rain before a certain point in history. The passage is Genesis 2:4-5, which reads:

5: when no plant of the field was yet in the earth and no herb
of the field had yet sprung up — for the LORD God had not caused it to
rain upon the earth, and there was no man to till the ground;
6: but a mist went up from the earth and watered the whole  face of the ground

The Hebrew of this passage, and the surrounding text, contains a number of difficulties, and it is not certain that the passage is stating that there was no rain. The passage is referring to a time before the standard agricultural cycle with which the Hebrews were familiar had been set up. That cycle involves the elements named in verse 5: the springing up of plants and herbs of the field, the sending of rain from heaven for purposes of making them grow, the going forth of man to till the ground to make them grow.

The passage thus may simply be setting the timeframe as "before the agricultural cycle was set up." It may not be denying that rain took place any more than it is denying that the same plants and herbs that would later be cultivated already were growing, they were just growing wild. In the same way, the rain (if it existed) was wild in the sense of not being sent by God to cause crops to grow because there were no crops. There were just wild plants here and there, but no man had yet been created, and thus there was no agriculture.

Verse 6 may reflect this disorganized state as well. The term "mist" may not be the best translation here. If memory serves (I’m afraid I don’t have time at the moment to look it up for verification) the term translated "mist" more literally means "flow." This may represent the numerous shifting watercourses in the Tigris-Euphrates delta (where Eden was supposed to be located), which often resulted in a chaotic flooding, swamp-like conditions, and thus conditions unsuitable for agriculture. (One notes also that the term "earth" used in this passage just means "land" and can mean a specific land, like the land where Eden was; not the whole planet.)

The biblical author may simply be trying to get us to envision the chaotic, undeveloped Mesopotamian swamp which God then started to organize, creating a garden and a gardener and the first stirrings of horticulture/agriculture.

On the other hand, if the passage is stating that there was no rain, anywhere on earth, then it is possible that it was not intended by the biblical author to be taken literally (the Church acknowledges significant elements of symbolism in the early part of Genesis; see the Catechism’s discussions on this point) but as a literary device of some sort, perhaps to set the reader up for the drama of the Flood narrative, which definitely involved rain.

Or one might think that there just was no rain at this time. It seems very hard to square that with the geological record, but one is free to believe that if one wishes.

The other disasters that you mention do not seem to be addressed one way or the other in Scripture. However, there are factors that would suggest that they did exist.

Even if you just stick with Genesis 1 it seems clear that a basic fact about the universe was the same then as it is now: The universe is entropic or prone to entropy, which is the tendency for systems to run down and break down. Without entropy, stars don’t shine (their energy doesn’t dissipate in the form of light and heat) and animals don’t need food (because they aren’t losing energy either). Since Genesis 1 both depicts the sun and the stars shining and the earthly creatures–even man–needing food, it thereby acknowldges that the pre-Fall universe was entropic.

That suggests that the same basic physical laws were in place, and thus that the effects of the sun on the earth’s atmosphere, driving the hydrological cycle, would have been the same (meaning things like tornados, hurricanes, and rain would occur). Indirect testimony to the hydrological cycle is also found in Genesis 1 in the fact that the waters have been divided into "the waters above" (i.e., clouds) and "the waters below" (i.e., oceans, seas, lakes, rivers). That only happens if you’ve got sunlight causing water evaporation, and thus the hydrological cycle. Lightening also occurs as part of the hydrological cycle, which would give rise to things like forrest fires (though you didn’t mention those, I thought I’d throw them in as a lagniappe).

The innards of the earth, for their part, would also be trying to radiating their internal heat outward in keeping with entropy, causing the convection currents in the earth’s mantle that are one of the things driving continental drift. This would then produce things like earthquakes, tsunamis, and volcanos (to throw in another couple of lagniappes).

Between the various lines of evidence, both from Genesis 1 and from what we know (or think we know) about the history of the earth from science, my best guess is that such disaster-phenomena did occur prior to the Fall, but if anyone wants to disagree with that, he’s welcome to.

I also heard that if they did exist before the fall that man had a special sense of imminent danger from these things and could take action to protect themselves.  What do you think?

That, I really couldn’t tell you. Many have conjectured that our first parents had a very large number of impressive superpowerspreternatural gifts. That could have been one of them. On the other hand, God might have kept them alive some other way.

The same could be true, theoretically, of animals before the Fall (e.g., there might have been animals with superpowerspreternatural gifts like those of Krypto the Superdog, or Streaky the Supercat, or Comet the Superhorse, or Beppo the Supermonkey, or Proty the . . . well, Proty the proty–or any other members of the Legion of Super-Pets).

On the other hand, we’ve got pretty good fossil evidence that some animals died in pre-Adamite disasters, but if one takes Augustine’s and Aquinas’s view that only human death entered the world through the Fall and that animal death could and did happen prior to it then this is not a problem.

Hope this helps!

Purgatory: Two Views

Recently someone engaged in an apologetic discussion about purgatory e-mailed me with a question about some of the questions that had arisen in the discussion. These touched on some significant issues, including the nature of purgatory and the way it is theologically elaborated. I thought I’d share (a slightly edited version of) my response to him, as it covers some ground one doesn’t often see covered.

I wrote:

There are different ways in which a doctrine can be theologically
elaborated. The core of the doctrine of purgatory is that (a) there is
something that occurs after death in which, for the saved, the
consequences of sin are dealt with and (b) those experiencing this
event or process can be assisted by the prayers and suffrages of the
living. That’s the core, but it can be developed and explained in
different ways.

Historically, a common way of explaining this among many theologians
has involved the idea of temporal punishments, understood in a literal
sense.

This would not conflict with the fact that Christ paid the price for
our sins because Scripture uses language indicating that Christ’s
Atonement, which rescues us from hell and which is sufficient in value
to wipe out all punishment if God wants to apply it that way, usually
does not eliminate all punishment for sin from the Christian life.
Instead, Scripture makes clear, God applies the infinite value of
Christ’s Atonement in a way that rescues us from hell and that
eliminates *many* of the sufferings in this life that we would
experience for our sins, but not *all* of the latter.

The book of Hebrews speaks of God chastizing us for our own good and
scourging every son he receives. There is thus a residuum of
punishment due for our sins that God allows us to bear in order to
teach us a lesson and encourage our growth in holiness. This is not in
contradiction to Christ’s Atonement but an outworking of it. The only
reason we receive this discipline from God is that we are his sons and
he is disciplining us to help us grow. The book of Hebrews makes this
point explicitly.

Since the chastisements and scourging that God allows to come to the
saved are not everlasting, they are therefore referred to as temporal
punishments–punishments that last only for a time, as opposed to the
eternal punishment of hell.

If, when we die, we have not dealt with all the remaining temporal
punishments that God has allowed us to experience for our sins then we
deal with them in purgatory.

This elaboration of purgatory has been popular for a number of
centuries, particularly in the West, where theologians have tended to
apply a juridical (courtroom) model to the situation, with God serving
as a judge who imposes penalties for transgressions of his law (albeit
in a fatherly manner).

Eastern Catholics have not always articulated purgatory in this way.
There are other ways in which the theological core of the doctrine can
be elaborated. One model that has been gaining ground in recent years,
including in the West, does not look to a courtroom/punishment model
but which instead speaks of purgatory as a purification or cleansing
that occurs to deal with attachment to sin. This kind of explanation
is found, for example, in the book Eschatology by Joseph Cardinal
Ratzinger and also in the Catechism of the Catholic Church.

Exponents of this view tend to view the
punishment/chastisement/scourging language of Scripture less literally
than it has been historically taken, seeing punishment for sin not as
something God inflicts from without but as the natural outworking of
the consequences of our sins, which God allows us to experience.

(Hell is then understood similarly, not as a place to which one is
sentenced by an angry God but as the state of definitive alienation
from God, which one has freely chosen by rejecting God’s offer of
union. In other words, on this understanding, God doesn’t send us to
hell against our will; we insist on leaving his presence and he allows
us to do so.)

How the punishment model and the purification model are to be
reconciled–or even if they need to be reconciled–is not something on
which the Church has authoritatively pronounced.

It is possible to reconcile the two to a significant degree. For
example, relying on the biblical emphasis on the sufferings and the
divine "scourgings" of the saved as means of spiritual training, one
might use the punishment model but say that the *only* temporal
punishments God allows us to experience are those needed for our
sanctification (which on anybody’s account is a painful process for
most).

This would bring the two models significantly into harmony in that on
both there would be no "excess" punishments one received. The only
sufferings the believer would have on account of sin would be those
used for his sanctification.

The question would be how one is to look at these sufferings: Are they
things caused by God from without, on the manner of a father punishing
his children? Or are they the natural outworking of the consequences
of sin, which we might envision as the pain experienced by a patient
who has broken (or shot) his foot and is having it worked on by a
doctor.

There’s a difference between "It’s time to take your punishment" and
"I’ve got to set this bone and it’s going to hurt," but they both
involve sufferings meant for the good of the one who experiences them.
Which way one looks at purgatory is currently an open question in
Catholic theology.

Reason and Faith

A reader writes:

Can reason lead us to faith in Christ or is it by the Grace of God and faith alone?  I ask this because of the big debate going on now with Intelligent Design.

Reason can allow us to know certain truths about God and his nature–the fact that he exists and that he has certain attributes, for example.

Reason alone cannot teach us the doctrine of the Trinity or that Christ is the Second Person of the Trinity or that we are to have faith in him.

Instead, reason can offer evidences or "motives of credibility" that make it rational for us to place our faith in Christ, but these do not compel or force us to place our faith in Christ. This is where the grace of God comes in.

God’s grace elevates will and allows it to respond to the call to place our faith in Christ. It is then that we either cooperate with or reject God’s grace as we make the decision to put our faith in Christ or not.

Thus one might be able to construct Intelligent Design arguments sufficient to show the existence of God and certain things about him (e.g., he is intelligent, he is a designer). These arguments (with others) then can make it rational to embrace faith in Christ, but they do not prove the Christian faith in the same way that the existence and certain attributes of God can be proved.

MORE INFO HERE.

AND HERE.

Revenants

Earlier we had a post on zombies.

As you may know, zombies are part of Haitian folklore. The term became popular in the U.S. following the release of the 1932 film White Zombie–starring our old friend Bela Lugosi!

This wasn’t the first time that the idea of zombies had appeared in western thought, though. The idea of reanimated bodies coming out of their graves and stalking the living had already been thunk up in the Middle Ages, when they were called "revenants" (Latin, "the returned," more or less).

Folks back then had their own ideas about how to deal with the revenant threat, which might come in handy in case of an actual zombie uprising.

GET THE STORY.

(NOTE: To the extent that there is any basis for these European legends, my guess is that they’re based on people who were buried when they weren’t actually dead yet–not an unknown occurrence in the old days–who then revived temporarily in a disoriented state, poor souls.)

Theology Of The Living Dead

A reader writes:

I watched ‘Land of the Dead’ on Friday night, and on the way home had some thoughts about zombies.

Do zombies have souls? The most obvious theological position for us to take with zombies seems to be that they are the bodies of humans reanimated by some principle other than the [separated at death] soul. Of course, we can’t prove this conclusively, but it’s convenient for us to assume they lack souls because it makes it easy, ethically, for us to kill them.

The problem we have is figuring out what a zombie actually is. There may be some real-life basis to the zombie legend. There are claims that certain psychoactive compounds or mental illnesses may be at the basis of it.

SEE INFO HERE.

On the other hand, zombies are extensively treated in fiction, where numerous causes are used to explain them.

AGAIN, INFO HERE.

Basically, though, it seems that the possible natures of zombies can be grouped into just a few categories:

  1. Zombies are human beings who have ordinary human souls (either under the influence of drugs, illness, or reanimation following death),
  2. Zombies are living bodies being animated by non-human rational souls (like I don’t know what),
  3. Zombies are living bodies being animated by non-human, non-rational souls (like non-human animals),
  4. Zombies are non-living bodies being animated in a way other than the way souls normally animate bodies some kind (e.g., long distance electrodes shot into the pineal and pituitary gland of the recently dead).

Which of these explanations is the correct one in the case of a particular zombie or zombie invasion that you may be facing is crucial for making the correct moral response. The basic divide is between options 1 & 2 on the one hand and optiosn 3 & 4 on the other.

If (1) is the case then they are humans and so have to be treated as such (see below).

If (2) is the case then their status is ambiguous enough that one should err on the side of treating them as humans. They may not have a human soul, but they do have a rational soul and until we learn otherwise we must treat rational souls (e.g., the kind aliens have) as having rights equivalent to ours. (Note well: For this option to occur it isn’t sufficient that a rational soul animate the body in a merely temporary or qualified fashion. It would have to have to animate the body the same way souls normally animate bodies. If it is a spirit merely telekinetically controlling the body without becoming its animating force so that it becomes a living body then option (4) is triggered.)

If (3) is the case then zombies can be treated as animals (see below).

If (4) is the case then zombies can be treated as robots (see below).

Given the assumption that they don’t have souls, then there’d be no problem with "killing" them.

True. Meaning: if options (4) is the case then we can kill them with no problem. Lock and load.

If, on the other hand, we assumed charitably that they did have souls, we’d be obliged to at least attempt to find other means to deal with them.

Not necessarily. They might have non-rational souls (option 3), in which case they could be treated as animals. While one would not want to be unnecessarily cruel to a zombie any more than one would want to be unnecessarily cruel to an animal, this would not preclude killing them. When faced with an animal attack or a zombie attack, use of lethal force would clearly be warranted.

Unless, of course, we take into account a seemingly implacable hostility to living humans. It could be argued that our legitimate concerns for self-defence as individuals or as a society could justify killing zombies.

Bingo! Their implacable hostility toward our race makes the filmland version of the zombie a legitimate subject of self-defense killing, even if options (1) or (2) are the case in a particular instance.

The problem would be to house zombies in such a way as to ensure the safety of the general population. Something like a maximum security prison.

I’m thinking that this proposal is ill-advised and would be likely to result in future zombie attacks. If there were some hope of curing the zombie–as might be the case in option (1)–then we would want to do all we could for them, including humanely housing (institutionalizing) the zombie population, but if we are talking a typical, incurable brain-munching zombie then, well, sticking them in prison is the stuff that sequels are made of.

It’d be more merciful to them and safer for us to simply exterminate them if zombie movies are any indication.

There are other problems than physical restraint to consider, given that their sustenance seems to be human flesh. Obviously we couldn’t provide that … or could we? If organ donation is allowable, would people be able to "donate" their bodies to feeding zombies, if all other attempts to find alternated food sources failed? There are practical problems with this: if there are a lot of zombies, it would be hard to find sufficient donors (if you can find any donors at all).

Well, if zombies were able only to eat human flesh (why this would be, I couldn’t say, but let’s go with it per suppositum) then it would be theoretically possible to donate non-vital human flesh (i.e., organs that you don’t require to live or the flesh of recently deceased humans) but this would seem to be ill-advised for several reasons, not least among them allowing zombies to survive. It would be analogous using human material to deliberately culture a virus that might one day burst forth to kill again.

What if someone is bitten by a zombie? People who are bitten die and become zombies themselves.

In some zombie stories, yes.

In Land of the Dead this frequently meant that they either committed suicide [to avoid becoming a zombie] or were killed by their friends. Obviously in Catholic theology we couldn’t allow this,

Correct. You can’t kill a person (or yourself) to keep them from becoming a zombie. There is another solution, however . . .

and we would be obliged to provide palliative care for bitten individuals to the best of our ability up to the point of death, and then immediately take measures to prevent zombification, i.e. destroy the brain.

Bingo. Wait until the person is either no longer alive and prevent their transformation or, failing that, kill them as soon as they have become a zombie and are now an enemy of mankind.

Incidentally, the same reasoning as above applies to vampires and other forms of undead.

If you’re interested in learning more about the real-world implications of a zombie attack, you might want to

GET THE BOOK "THE ZOMBIE SURVIVAL GUIDE: COMPLETE PROTECTION FROM THE UNDEAD"

though I haven’t read it myself.

You might also want to

GET MY FAVORITE ZOMBIE FILM, "I WAS A ZOMBIE FOR THE F.B.I.", WHICH IS FINALLY BEING RELEASED ON DVD! YEE-HAW!!!

Doctors, Patrons, & Infallibility

A reader writes:

You have remarked before that the Pope’s infallibility is invoked when he declares someone a saint.  Is there any similar invocation of infallibility when someone is declared a Doctors of the Church?

No, there’s not. This may be illustrated by comparing the formula used in canonization with, for example, the declaration of St. Therese of Lisieux as a doctor of the Church.

As Vatican I and II point out, a pope triggers the Church’s charism of infallibility when he makes a definition, and so popes conventionally do this by using the verb "We (or I) define . . . "

In the case of a typical saint canonization, the formula used is as follows (this particular one being the canonization of Josemaria Escriva):

In honor of the Blessed and Undivided Trinity, for the uplifting of Catholic faith and the increase of Christian life, by the authority of our Lord Jesus Christ and that of the Holy Apostles Peter and Paul and our own, after careful deliberation, having called frequently upon God’s help, and with the advice of many of our brother Bishops, We declare and define Blessed Josemaría Escrivá de Balaguer to be a Saint, and We inscribe his name in the catalogue of the Saints, ordaining that, throughout the universal Church, he be devoutly honored among the Saints. In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit [SOURCE].

You’ll note the bolded verbs: "We declare and define." The money verb is "We define." That’s what triggers the Church’s infallibility. It’s the traditional verb used by popes in engaging the charism of infallibility.

You’ll note that this verb is absent from proclamations that someone is a doctor. For example, when St. Therese of Lisieux was declared a doctor of the Church, this was the form of words used by John Paul II:

Fulfilling the wishes of many Brothers in the Episcopate and of a great number of the faithful throughout the world, after consulting the Congregation for the Causes of Saints and hearing the opinion of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith regarding her eminent doctrine, with certain knowledge and after lengthy reflection, with the fullness of Our apostolic authority We declare Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus and the Holy Face, virgin, to be a Doctor of the Universal Church. In the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit [SOURCE].

There’s no "We define" in that. Therefore, the pope is not making a definition and so is not triggering infallibility.

The same goes for the proclamation of other titles among saints. For example, here is the form of words used to proclaim St. Thomas More the patron of statemen and politicians:

Therefore, after due consideration and willingly acceding to the petitions addressed to me, I establish and declare Saint Thomas More the heavenly Patron of Statesmen and Politicians, and I decree that he be ascribed all the liturgical honours and privileges which, according to law, belong to the Patrons of categories of people [SOURCE].

Again, no "I define."

Now, I’ve answered the question so far on textualist grounds–pointing out that the texts do not use the language popes conventionally use in triggering infallibility. I haven’t pointed out why.

The basic reason is that the status of being a doctor is different than being a saint. If someone is a saint, that means that the person is in heaven. That’s a binary, on/off thing that can be the subject of a definition more easily than what is at issue when the title of "doctor" is bestowed. Someone either is in heaven or he isn’t. But in the case of a doctor the Church is honoring someone for being a really good teacher. The quality of someone’s teaching isn’t an on/off, binary kind of thing, though. The quality of teaching is something that exists on a continuum, and one that cannot be measured except impressionistically. As a result, it would be less clear what is being defined if a pope attempted to define that someone "is a really good teacher" (whatever words this might be put in) rather than that someone "is in heaven."

Now, in the case of both saints and doctors there are ancillary concepts associated with the Church’s bestowal of these titles. In both cases there is the idea that the person was holy and a good example for the faithful to emulate, but these are slippery concepts that also exist on continua.

The core of sainthood is still a binary, on/off condition: being heaven.

Something similar applies in the case of patrons. Here there is also the idea that the person was holy and worthy of emulating but the core of patronage is different: The patron is a person from whom the faithful (or certain groups of the faithful) ask intercession, either in general or concerning a particular matter. The proclamation of a patron thus is more a directive to the faithful–a directive to look to this guy for intercession and to emulate his example.

Thus when John Paul II proclaimed Thomas More the patron of statesmen and politicians he used the verb "I establish" rather than just "I declare." In establishing him as a patron of certain individuals, the pope thereby directed those individuals to seek his intercession and emulate his example.

Thus there is no attempt to engage the Church’s infallibility here either since no matter is being defined; rather an exhortation or directive is being given.

Doctors, Patrons, & Infallibility

A reader writes:

You have remarked before that the Pope’s infallibility is invoked when he declares someone a saint.  Is there any similar invocation of infallibility when someone is declared a Doctors of the Church?

No, there’s not. This may be illustrated by comparing the formula used in canonization with, for example, the declaration of St. Therese of Lisieux as a doctor of the Church.

As Vatican I and II point out, a pope triggers the Church’s charism of infallibility when he makes a definition, and so popes conventionally do this by using the verb "We (or I) define . . . "

In the case of a typical saint canonization, the formula used is as follows (this particular one being the canonization of Josemaria Escriva):

In honor of the Blessed and Undivided Trinity, for the uplifting of Catholic faith and the increase of Christian life, by the authority of our Lord Jesus Christ and that of the Holy Apostles Peter and Paul and our own, after careful deliberation, having called frequently upon God’s help, and with the advice of many of our brother Bishops, We declare and define Blessed Josemaría Escrivá de Balaguer to be a Saint, and We inscribe his name in the catalogue of the Saints, ordaining that, throughout the universal Church, he be devoutly honored among the Saints. In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit [SOURCE].

You’ll note the bolded verbs: "We declare and define." The money verb is "We define." That’s what triggers the Church’s infallibility. It’s the traditional verb used by popes in engaging the charism of infallibility.

You’ll note that this verb is absent from proclamations that someone is a doctor. For example, when St. Therese of Lisieux was declared a doctor of the Church, this was the form of words used by John Paul II:

Fulfilling the wishes of many Brothers in the Episcopate and of a great number of the faithful throughout the world, after consulting the Congregation for the Causes of Saints and hearing the opinion of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith regarding her eminent doctrine, with certain knowledge and after lengthy reflection, with the fullness of Our apostolic authority We declare Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus and the Holy Face, virgin, to be a Doctor of the Universal Church. In the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit [SOURCE].

There’s no "We define" in that. Therefore, the pope is not making a definition and so is not triggering infallibility.

The same goes for the proclamation of other titles among saints. For example, here is the form of words used to proclaim St. Thomas More the patron of statemen and politicians:

Therefore, after due consideration and willingly acceding to the petitions addressed to me, I establish and declare Saint Thomas More the heavenly Patron of Statesmen and Politicians, and I decree that he be ascribed all the liturgical honours and privileges which, according to law, belong to the Patrons of categories of people [SOURCE].

Again, no "I define."

Now, I’ve answered the question so far on textualist grounds–pointing out that the texts do not use the language popes conventionally use in triggering infallibility. I haven’t pointed out why.

The basic reason is that the status of being a doctor is different than being a saint. If someone is a saint, that means that the person is in heaven. That’s a binary, on/off thing that can be the subject of a definition more easily than what is at issue when the title of "doctor" is bestowed. Someone either is in heaven or he isn’t. But in the case of a doctor the Church is honoring someone for being a really good teacher. The quality of someone’s teaching isn’t an on/off, binary kind of thing, though. The quality of teaching is something that exists on a continuum, and one that cannot be measured except impressionistically. As a result, it would be less clear what is being defined if a pope attempted to define that someone "is a really good teacher" (whatever words this might be put in) rather than that someone "is in heaven."

Now, in the case of both saints and doctors there are ancillary concepts associated with the Church’s bestowal of these titles. In both cases there is the idea that the person was holy and a good example for the faithful to emulate, but these are slippery concepts that also exist on continua.

The core of sainthood is still a binary, on/off condition: being heaven.

Something similar applies in the case of patrons. Here there is also the idea that the person was holy and worthy of emulating but the core of patronage is different: The patron is a person from whom the faithful (or certain groups of the faithful) ask intercession, either in general or concerning a particular matter. The proclamation of a patron thus is more a directive to the faithful–a directive to look to this guy for intercession and to emulate his example.

Thus when John Paul II proclaimed Thomas More the patron of statesmen and politicians he used the verb "I establish" rather than just "I declare." In establishing him as a patron of certain individuals, the pope thereby directed those individuals to seek his intercession and emulate his example.

Thus there is no attempt to engage the Church’s infallibility here either since no matter is being defined; rather an exhortation or directive is being given.