Unfailingly Soothing Presentations of Christianity: What's Missing Therein?

There is a certain approach taken by some Catholics who are engaged in the work of evangelization that is very puzzling. And this can apply to priests or laymen. I've seen it in regard to both.

It's puzzling not so much for it's content--what it says--but for what it doesn't say, what it leaves out.

What is left out in such an approach as I have in mind? Simply, the cross.

There are good people, both lay and clergy, engaged in Catholic evangelization of a sort that focuses without exception always on the nice things, the warm-and-fuzzy aspects of Christian discipleship. In this approach, Jesus is always the tender one who soothes us and says soothing things to our heats. We are always the good ones, trying our best, messing up at times, but nonetheless basically striving in most respects to be like Jesus.

What's wrong with this? After all, Jesus, indeed, is full of mercy and compassion. He loves every one of us with a power and intensity we can't imagine. He is tender and merciful. It's true. But, if this is the only aspect ever mentioned about our Lord's relationship to us as we navigate life trying to serve Him, something huge is missing. The cross.

There is suffering in human life. It's a reality we cannot escape. The question I am concerned with here, is whether we will invite grace to inform and transform all aspects of our life--including our sufferings--or if we only see being a Christian as something unrelated, detached, set apart, from the deepest sorrows of life.

Jesus does indeed look tenderly upon us in our sorrows. But we forget from where He is gazing--He sees us (or, saw, in one great event both time-bound and eternal in the shock wave it sent through creation) from the cross. His passion--His free embrace of undeserved suffering for the sake of loving us so demonstrably, of pouring Himself out for us, of opening His heart for our benefit in a way that we cannot take lightly--was not a closed event meant only for Him to know in secret. Jesus' loving gaze upon the world from the wood of the cross was an open event. From that one place in time, He looked out upon the entire world, gazing into all human history past, present, and future, and invited us in to His open heart. He tenderly shares with us the grace to permit our hearts as well to join Him in giving ourselves in love for the sake of others.

It is a great absence and a great deficiency to share an enthusiasm for a relationship with Jesus Christ without also consciously seeking to help people freely accept Jesus' invitation to unite our sufferings to His Passion. In this way, our sorrows and pains become folded in to the greatest spiritual event in the history of the cosmos--the Redemption of mankind.

When we accept the grace to unite our trials big and small to the cross of our Savior, our pains take on a powerful meaning. They become little points of heat that help us to play a real role in welding the souls of those we love more strongly to the heart of Jesus. Our self-giving perhaps, with grace may become more meaningful and free when chosen in the midst of pain. It's not the suffering here that is good, but the personal act of welcoming the invitation to make it an offering of love for others.

The cross changes everything. Every single moment of pain, sorrow, trial, suffering, is potentially through grace a gathering point of spiritual power bringing our souls into Christ's salvation of the world.

Now, in heaven, Jesus no longer suffers. He is risen from the dead! But that monumental event of His suffering on the cross still looks out to us from that point; this spiritual lightening bolt began a re-creation of mankind that continues to reach out from the cross through all of time to today, tomorrow, and every day until Christ comes in glory.

It's a re-creation that He, because He loves us, wants us to freely participate in with Him. He has made available the grace we need to be able to join with Him in the greatest act (the salvation and sanctification of souls) that has ever happened.

When well-meaning evangelists speak to other Christian souls only about soothing things, they are missing an essential aspect of Christian life. They fail to invite us to allow Jesus to bring us into His heart poured out for the world on the cross. Such an overly safe approach runs the danger of reducing followers of Christ to mere passive recipients of salvation, rather than calling us to live according to the immense and unbelievable dignity of being welcomed to take a place in Christ's heart even as this great Heart suffered in love for the world.

Human Relationships, Love, Not Fully Embraceable Without Jesus' Grace

One of the tragic things about the life and death of Amy Winehouse is that in some ways she was probably closer to the deepest meaning of human life than many people who appear less troubled on the surface.

How so? By way of contrast, there are some (hopefully a small number) whose self-absorption permits them to be so occupied with themselves and so impressed with themselves that they are not attentive to, even seem to become unaware of, the fact that the real space within which human life becomes fully alive is in the midst of relationships with other people. And when I say relationships, I mean those that involve love, friendship, and self-sacrifice.

It seems to me, for all her self-destructiveness and troubles, Amy Winehouse and other artists like her, did not have this sort of ignorance. In part, I think her sufferings and harmful behavior were possible because she knew--very powerfully--that relationships of love and friendship are the arena in which human persons can really experience and live life to its greatest and most beautiful potential.

But, this awareness--remaining in touch with this passion in one's soul for the irreplaceability of meaningful relationships--inevitably must produce great suffering in this fallen world. Why? Sin--the fallenness and prideful selfishness--that has damaged (though not destroyed) every human soul makes the arena of love and friendship a place in which our hearts are guaranteed to be hurt. So, suffer we do, if we don't turn our backs on relationships altogether as a place of irreplaceable meaning in life.

But, the more we sense keenly the importance of love and friendship to life, the more we will suffer as a result of the sin in ourselves and in others. The broken heart, the disappointed expectation, is more painful to one who wants to love most deeply. To the Amy Winehouses of the world, this pain can become unbearable. And yet, the option of giving up altogether on love and friendship to try to reduce this suffering is an option more awful than death itself. What does one do in such a situation? (Please note that I am speculating here in regard to Amy Winehouse since I only know what the general public knows and did not have the opportunity to know her personally.)

The only way--truly--to fully and most humanly embrace the dangerous seas of love and friendship without sentencing oneself to hopelessness and despair because of the hurt one will suffer is to know and love Jesus Christ. He makes everything possible in love and friendship--everything good--healing, forgiveness, friendship and love even in the midst of sin and imperfection become realities when transformed by the precious grace of Jesus. He strengthens and heals and renews our hearts to live human lives of profoundly meaningful relationships of friendship and love, even though this also means pain. First of all, He heals and makes whole what before was broken in our relationships. Love and friendship are much better under the loving guidance of Christ. But these things, though better, nonetheless are still fallen and are sources of pain even with Christ's grace. But even the pain that we still must endure because of love and friendship becomes bearable because it can be woven into the astonishing meaning and power of Jesus' self-sacrificial suffering and death on the cross, in love, for the salvation and sanctification of the world.

If we turn to Jesus on the cross, draw near to the wound in His side, we have no need to turn away from love and friendship out of fear and to protect our hearts. And when we do experience the suffering that inevitably comes our way because we choose to embrace our humanity with gusto and thus to pursue love and friendship, we need not be wholly crushed. Jesus is here to bear our hurts with us and to transform even these most interior, close-to-ourselves sufferings into something spiritually powerful for ourselves and those we love.

But if all the above be true, this indeed has a great consequence: Relationships of love and friendship are not possible for us to embrace and live at their most powerful, most meaningful human depths without the grace of Jesus Christ in our souls. Only with Him can we be confidently and most vibrantly alive and passionate in love and friendship without going off the rails into despair or self-destruction.

The School of the Cross: Let Us Enroll Now, Well Before the Big Test

Just a brief thought here. . . If we want to suffer well at the end of our lives, assuming that we are given the opportunity by God of learning intensely from the school of suffering in the days leading up to our death, it is best if we do some preparation in advance.

While anything is possible with grace, it is not very likely that we will suffer well at the end of our lives if we have not learned, in the smaller everyday annoyances and pains of life, to unite our crosses with Christ. If, however, in our younger days we do practice the virtue of uniting our smaller sufferings to Christ, we will be much better prepared to be able to unite much larger sufferings to His cross as well, should this be what our Lord permits us to endure at the end of our lives.

Do We Have the Right to End Our Lives?

I fear there is something horrible taking place in our culture. And it has been gradually happening over the last couple of decades or so. What is this horrible thing? We are becoming, more and more, a society that has stopped believing that there is never a situation in which we may kill an innocent human being in order to solve the difficulty of suffering.

I have to believe that, say, 50 years ago, when my parents were teenagers, American society took for granted that we would never look toward killing as a way out of even the hardest situations. We handle our troubles and our sorrows by pulling together, sticking with one another, being there for each other, doing all that we can for each other. And as a nation made up mostly of people who believe in Christ, we pray. We look to Jesus on the Cross. And we trust in divine providence even when we don't have all the answers.

Or, we used to.

We are more and more a nation that no longer believes that our lives do not rest, ultimately, in our own hands. Increasingly, we consider ourselves masters of our own lives. But do we have the right even to end our own lives? Yes, even if it is for the sake of cutting short our suffering?

The fate of our society as a civilized nation largely rests on the answer.

More specifically, and of particular relevance today, may we choose to end a human life by withdrawing nutrition and hydration (food and water) from someone, in order to put an end to suffering?

Well, do we still heed the commandment, "Thou Shall Not Kill"?

No matter how it is done, deliberately killing an innocent person is a direct violation of this bedrock commandment. It is not ours to choose when or how we die. Our life is a gift from God. We do not, in the ultimate sense, own our lives. We belong to God. And He tells us, thou shall not kill.

Would it be OK to go up to a hospital bed of someone in pain, put a pistol to his head, and kill him? Why not?

If this would not be OK, then why is it OK to decide to kill somebody by starving and dehydrating him to death? In both situations, the result is the same--a dead person. And in both cases, death is the desired result chosen by those who make it happen. The intention is to kill. The only difference is that killing by pistol is messier and quicker. Death by starvation and dehydration is much neater (no blood on the walls; no loud bang), and much slower (days or weeks instead of a mere fraction of a second). But morally speaking, whether you kill by pistol or kill by removing food and water--you are just as wrong. You are doing the same thing: killing the innocent, taking life into your own hands.

If we accept that we may take life into our own hands and therefore may choose to kill suffering people by keeping food and water from them, we are not far from just putting a gun to their heads. Why not just put them in a gas chamber? Why not just stick a knife in their throat? Why not just put a bag over their head? In the end, there is no real difference.

For the love of God, may we reaffirm that we are a decent, caring, compassionate, God-fearing society. May we come to our senses and realize how shockingly sick and downright evil it is to even think that we might choose to kill the innocent, by whatever means.

In other words, please do not kill your mother or father, grandmother or grandfather, by starving them and dehydrating them to death. This is not what decent human beings do to each other. We do not kill as a way to escape our pain. Part of what makes us a civilization rather than a brutal mob is that in the face of even the biggest of troubles we do not turn on each other or abandon each other; we turn toward one another, share each others' burdens, and lift each other up in prayer. We hold each others' hands, we wash each others' bodies, we place food in the mouths of those who cannot feed themselves and provide water to those who cannot drink unaided.

Do we still believe that God has a mysterious plan, though partly hidden, for each of our lives? Do we no longer realize that we did not give ourselves the gift of life? Do we not know that God loves each of us no matter what? Do we not understand that as soon as we accept, in any situation, that we may choose to kill the innocent as a way to solve our problems that we will have at that moment become an inhuman, barbaric, decaying society that has chosen a path of hopelessness and despair over love and compassion?

Thou Shall Not Kill???

Unless we do it in a slow, bloodless, quiet way that seems so easy, by holding back food and water and  providing pain medication so our target starves and dehydrates comfortably? In a sane world, this is called murder.

Imitating Christ: Uniting Exhortation With Suffering Solidarity

Here is an aspect of suffering that every Christian with the help of God is called to embrace and that seems to be especially rejected today: the interior spiritual, psychological, and emotional suffering that accompanies being closely involved with other human beings who at times fail us, who sometimes hurt us, who fall short of what they are called to be and yet not turning our backs on them, not walling them off from the deepest core of our own selves (and without giving up on their potential). It is a suffering we often do not appreciate, and that I all-too-often fail to embrace.

There are two poles of this type of suffering, two places or roles in a human relationship that feel let down. First, is the person himself. When we ourselves fail to do what we should (if we want to become better persons), we are sad and experience suffering as we realize our own failings. This is the suffering of Saint Peter, “And Peter remembered the word of the Lord, how he had said to him, ‘Before the cock crows today, you will deny me three times.’ And he went out and wept bitterly.” (Lk 22:61b-62) These are our tears too. Second, is the suffering of one who loves us, who because of his love wants us to become the best version of ourselves we can be, as he realizes our failings. This is the suffering of Jesus, who loved Peter, in the very same scene, “And the Lord turned and looked at Peter.” (Lk 22:61a) And imagine the human disappointment of Jesus when his friends fell asleep instead of remaining awake with him on the eve of his passion, “So, could you not watch with me one hour?” (Mt 26:40b) But, despite this pain of disappointment, notice that Jesus did not give up on them, he still called them on to a nobler life. And neither did he pull away from being close to them.


This pertains to a dual calling that Christ modeled for us, the entering into which is a source of a hidden interior suffering to which we are especially averse. It is the calling to strive (in accord with our vocation and gifts) to inspire others to an ever-deeper faith, to an ever-deeper embrace of the highest ideal of what it is to be human, united with another call to a special personal solidarity with others—that is, of joining in compassionate union with others as they suffer in the realization they are not all that they should be (as do we in regard to ourselves). It is less challenging to focus on only one or the other facet of this dual calling than to hold both harmoniously together. I might be good, for example, at the former—at reminding others of the high bar that Christ has set and has invited us to attain with His help. Or, I may be good at the latter—of accompanying others in a union of one heart to another when they are saddened by the lack of their own progress (giving them the consoling presence of a compassionate and empathetic soul). But we are called by Christ to strive to embrace both in our relationships. This is very challenging, requires the help of grace, and brings into our lives yet another of the many faces of suffering.

Not uniting both together in ourselves—not navigating well the dual calling of Christ both to inspire others and to share in the interior burdens that accompany personal failings—is not to be an evil person. It is, rather, to miss a significant opportunity to become more like Christ. And it is a lost opportunity that I believe is especially common today. Perhaps one reason for this is the tendency of popular culture to recoil immediately against any form of interior psychological and emotional pain. Now, wanting to alleviate such pain is not a bad thing. But trying to live life as though it were possible to eliminate all psychological and emotional torment within ourselves or others is a recipe for despair.

I am reminded of this challenge by occasions where a religious leader (or any authority figure) preaches an exhortation to his flock to be better and more faithful Christians. The message is bracing, and, as far as it goes, matches the doctrine of Christ. But apart from the leader’s preaching, in his personal relationships with his flock, he demonstrates a significant lack of compassion—he has no heart to come close to those souls who want to heed his challenging words but who often fail and thus suffer a hidden inner pain because of this failure. They look for an understanding soul who will continue to inspire them but while doing so might also join them side-by-side as they walk the path of their interior crosses of unmet expectations. In other words, we want to continue to uplift each other as fellow disciples of Christ, but we also want to be able to have a meaningful brotherhood together as we share the journey in all its aspects—its failures and sufferings as well as its triumphs. Incredibly, this is what Jesus did with His followers.

Where in the Gospels do we see Jesus modeling for us this dual calling? In many places. But here are some that come strongly to mind for me: Jesus’ loving look at Peter just after Peter denied Him three times (which I mentioned above), paired with Jesus’ tender post-resurrection encounter with Peter on the shore (“Do you love me?” Jesus asked three times. And He responded to Peter, “Feed my lambs”; “Tend my sheep”; “Feed my sheep,” ending with, “Follow me.” [Jn 21:15-19]); and Jesus’ encounter with the woman caught in adultery (See Jn 8:2-11, Jesus asks her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” And she responded, “No one, Lord,” And Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you; go, and do not sin again.” Note in this scene the beautiful union in Jesus of the look of love, of mercy, and yet of gentle exhortation to reform her life.) This should be the image of what we all aspire to be for each other.

Dear Jesus, please grant us the grace to love one another enough to encourage each other gently and hopefully toward ever greater transformation in you. May we do so with humility and mercy, not forgetting justice, never giving up on keeping the fire of love alive in our hearts.

[Thanks to Jennifer Fulwiler for her excellent post, Safe Miracles, which inspired this post]

Should We Not Always Want Others to Put On a Happy Face? Misplaced Optimism as a Denial of the Cross

It is a good thing to want to encourage others to have a positive outlook about life. But sometimes this desire can be used in an inappropriate way. Sometimes there is no escaping the bitter pill of suffering. Consider the situation of when a close family member or friend is going through very real, serious suffering (such as the death of a child or terminal cancer). Sometimes we Americans are too eager to urge others to "put on a happy face," when we should do no such thing. Such efforts may inappropriately remove an opportunity to engage in genuine compassion--a beautiful virtue.

I wonder if a tendency to overemphasize putting on a happy face is yet another way that American culture rejects the cross. By encouraging others to smile through their troubles no matter what, we conveniently escape having to “suffer-with” those who are afflicted. And we thereby deny those in pain the blessing of traveling the road of hardship with someone who loves them at their side.

Do we, perhaps, reject a cross that we are called to take up—the cross of compassion (suffering-with)—by removing the suffering face of others from our midst? If we always and indiscriminately get our afflicted loved ones to put on a happy-face those signs of grief which would otherwise beckon us to leave our comfort zones, put our arms around their shoulders and provide help and companionship as they endure a cross they have no choice but to bear remain hidden; consequently, we do not have to respond to the face of suffering. It is far easier and more convenient for us to respond to a fake smile than to respond to genuine tears. But if we live this way we are choosing the easier path when we should choose the harder one, and are less human than we could be, than we are called to be by Him who made us.

I have seen this in hospital settings. Visitors, highly averse to pain and suffering, coax a seriously ill loved one to play along and pretend things are OK. Then, after they leave, the patient is left to cry alone. No one to suffer-with him, to share his cross. One wonders who really benefits when a visitor discourages outward signs of grief: the patient, or the visitor who doesn’t want to deal with the full human depth and piercing reality of suffering?

[Thanks to Katie at The Linde]

The Absence of Heartfelt Concern or Genuine Compassion? Which Do we Practice in Our Own Lives?

While at my job (caring for the elderly in their home), I sometimes am exposed to more daytime television than I would otherwise desire as my clients tune in. I bring a book for times I am not busy, but the TV can't be avoided when it is on.

Tyra Banks (former supermodel turned TV personality) has a daytime TV show. Today on the Tyra Banks Show (I feel strange just writing that phrase!), I witnessed something I want to comment about. A teenage prostitute was a guest on the show. This girl, age 18, has been a prostitute since she was 14. She was first molested at age 9. She is still doing this--she claims by her choice--and doesn't believe she is likely to live beyond age 22.

I don't know what I could say about the awful awful situation this girl is in, and the horrendous reality that she sees no other way of life for herself. One's heart wishes you could somehow rescue her from her plight. Please pray. Pray for all women and girls who sell their bodies, by force or by choice, that somehow the grace of Christ would break in and set them free.

But I do want to say something about how Tyra interacted with this poor girl. I don't claim to know Tyra Bank's heart. And I don't know much about her otherwise. However, the manner in which she engaged this girl in a conversation about her life while taping the show was disturbingly detached. Sure, there was a model's smile, and the fashionable questions about how do you feel about such-and-such? But behind the smile and the questions about feelings there seemed to me to be a lack of serious concern for the whole person--a lack of a deeply human interest in the full human being in pain there before her. And this is terribly sad to see. There was a disconnect beneath the surface connection.

This is an example, I am sorry to say, of what I blogged about earlier. There is something deeply, horribly wrong with our essential quality as human persons if we can be in the presence of a terribly hurting and wounded person and yet not be able to break out of our own world of personal concerns and interests. A humane and civilized culture should be populated with people who respond with real compassion to the suffering of others.

The "Suffering Artist" Idea Points to a Truth About Persons

Some artists, it seems, perhaps especially those who are young, have a tendency to wish for some sort of suffering to accompany their life as an artist. The idea of the "starving artist," enduring some sort of pain or inner turmoil (misunderstood, before his time, etc.) is a figure that holds a sort of romantic attraction. And perhaps it is not so much true suffering, but to be seen as suffering (for one's art), that holds an attraction for some artists.

Isolation of a sort goes along with this. The gifted artist lives in his own special world enduring a unique pain for the sake of his art. Or, at least, so goes this romanticized idea.

To the extent that some artists have a yearning for something like this (and I don't claim that many artists do; but, there is at least an image of the young artist in pop culture music and movies that inclines in this direction), their yearning is misguided. But is it completely so? Is the notion of the tormented artist (the more gifted, the more tormented) rooted in some sort of authentic truth about the human condition? I would say, yes.

Before expanding on this answer, first, I want to acknowledge that seeking after suffering for suffering's sake is wrong. Artificially bringing pain into one's life does not enhance one's humanity, but degrades it (and I am not referring here to the Christian understanding of voluntary penance, which is not the same as what I am referring to here). And this is where an artist who sabotages his life, somehow artificially adding to or bringing new sufferings into his life, goes seriously wrong. Nonetheless, his instinct is not entirely out of whack.

How so? The answer lies in a particularly Christian understanding of human suffering. Specifically, an understanding of suffering as found in the works of Max Scheler and John Paul II [and here I thank Peter Colosi and his article "John Paul II and Max Scheler on the Meaning of Suffering," published in the journal Logos, 12:3, summer 2009, for enlightening me about this.] In the experience of real suffering (note: not artificially enhanced suffering, but genuine suffering that comes into one's life independent from one's yearning), there is a potential (not necessarily always realized) for the heart to become bigger--for the spiritual center of the human person to become better able to enter into the heart of others who also suffer. In other words, the suffering person can, through his pain, become in turn a more compassionate human being in the way that he loves others. Peter Colosi put it this way, "the link between suffering and love is not merely that they can occur simultaneously, but that to an extent they depend on each other." (p. 21)

For a fuller explanation, please see Dr. Colosi's article. But for my purposes here I simply want to point out that there could be some glimmer of truth about persons hidden behind the twisted yearning that an artist might have for a life touched by suffering to the extent that he would go so far as to bring about circumstances that promise to enhance his suffering. Though he goes about it in a misguided way (i.e. by seeking suffering so that his suffering is in a sense artificial), such an artist intuits something true--that suffering (authentic suffering) has a mysterious potential to increase and enhance the powers of love in the human soul.

Why would an artist want this? Artists are about seeking a communion, a melding of hearts. They want their audience to be able to enter into their vision--to experience the world if only for a moment through their interior, spiritual eyes. They want to communicate something meaningful, something stirring, something worthwhile. And they know through a kind of intuition that somehow, suffering holds at least a mysterious potential to make them, as artists, better able to enter into what they seek to find and to communicate to other human hearts. A heart tempered by the flame of suffering is a heart that might have gained a greater vision into the the most gripping and poignant realities of life. And such a heart might then more effectively communicate and interpret these things to others through art.

Please note, I am in no way implying in this post that the greater the suffering, the greater the artist. It is not a quantitative, direct correlation. Every soul is unique. And again, I would stress that artificially creating suffering in one's life is not the way to achieve an enhanced spiritual vision. But, I do want to make an observation that perhaps the somewhat hidden desire for strife that some artists may have is connected to the truth observed by JPII and Scheler and brought to my awareness by Dr. Colosi, that unsought-for, genuine suffering, handled rightly and with the transforming balm of divine grace alive in the soul, can open up the heart to a deeper capacity to see, understand, and love other persons in all their human splendor. And this in turn can help artistically gifted persons become better artists as they become truer seers and deeper lovers of fellow human souls.

The path for Christian artists into this greater depth of vision and love is not by seeking pain as an end in itself, but through turning to the cross of Christ in the experience of whatever suffering comes into one's life, being open to and embracing grace in the midst of pain. Taking on the heart of Christ, uniting with Him on the cross, by His grace, in whatever crosses we are permitted to suffer--this is how our hearts are expanded and our spiritual vision deepened. And it is a mysterious intuition into this bittersweet reality which it seems to me lies behind any twisted desire of artists to artificially bring pain into their lives.

American Academy of Pediatrics recommends when children can be killed

The American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP), a respected and influential medical organization of some 60,000 members (ostensibly "Dedicated to the Health of all Children"), has recently published something which any morally sane American should consider highly disturbing, to say the least.

In the August, 2009 (Vol. 124, No. 2, pp. 813-822), issue of their monthly scientific journal, Pediatrics, the AAP published an article--a "clinical report"--titled, "Forgoing Medically Provided Nutrition and Hydration in Children." [available online here; pdf here] The two authors of this article (both medical doctors) are the present and immediate past chairpersons (their term; I prefer 'chairmen') of the AAP's Committee on Bioethics. And so this article represents the current point of view of the bioethics experts of the American Academy of Pediatrics on the subject of withholding food and water (i.e. nutrition and hydration) from living children. From what I can gather from their web site (their "Clinical Reports" index, here, which includes this article, is listed under the heading of "AAP Policy"), this represents official policy of the AAP. At the very least, this will be influential among pediatric medical professionals. To some degree it may represent already established opinion among them.

In the conclusions section of the article is the following: "The primary focus in decision-making should be the interests of the child." What does the AAP consider in the interests of the child? When do they say a physician may withhold food and water?

Medically provided fluids and nutrition may be withdrawn from a child who permanently lacks awareness and the ability to interact with the environment. Examples of such children include children in a persistent vegetative state or children with anencephaly. [conclusions, no. 6]

I stress loudly that such children are not necessarily dying! A persistent vegetative state, especially, is not a lethal condition--imminent death is not in the prognosis for PVS by itself. The AAP thinks it is morally permissible to kill children who are not dying, but severely injured, by withholding nutrition and hydration. They do not call this killing. But in a sound moral analysis, it certainly is.

Further, the article states, "Because individuals in a persistent vegetative state are unaware of themselves and their environment, the provision of medically provided fluids and nutrition does not confer them benefit and may be withdrawn." This position is essentially utilitarian. It does not assume that human life and human existence is, in itself, essentially good and valuable. It reduces the value of human life to something dependent upon the awareness of the individual. This is an extremely dangerous and morally bankrupt position to take. The AAP now holds that if life isn't worth living according to its understanding of a worthy, beneficial life, then it is a legitimate option to end the patient's life by not giving them nutrition and hydration. Such is the state of bioethics among the leadership of mainstream medical organizations.

It is helpful to have the following background information: the AAP considers providing nutrition and hydration (food and water), by feeding tube (a tube going into the stomach or small intestine) or intravenously, to be "life sustaining medical treatment" (LSMT). Here is a quote from AAP official policy:

Life-sustaining medical treatment encompasses all interventions that may prolong the life of patients. Although LSMT includes the dramatic measures of contemporary practice such as organ transplantation, respirators, kidney (dialysis) machines, and vasoactive drugs, it also includes less technically demanding measures such as antibiotics, insulin, chemotherapy, and nutrition and hydration provided intravenously or by tube.
[Guidelines on Forgoing Life-Sustaining Medical Treatment]

Thus, leaders among our pediatric specialists officially consider antibiotics, insulin, and food and water (given by tube into the stomach or by a smaller tube into a vein) to be "Life Sustaining Medical Treatment." In other words, these are considered interventions that may, under some circumstances (some not life threatening), be forgone. A very serious question must be asked: Do they approve forgoing such treatments for the sake of bringing about death--where it would be understood (even if not stated explicitly) that death would be a direct result (as contrasted with allowing an already inevitable death to take place by forgoing treatment)? The answer, clearly, is yes (see above).

Why is this a huge concern? Because the medical community does not seem to recognize the moral difference between allowing certainly impending death to happen, death which will come as a direct result of an incurable lethal disease or injury, vs. deliberately killing the patient by keeping food and water from him or by omitting other routine and probably effective antibiotic or insulin treatments for secondary and not-necessarily lethal conditions. We are in serious trouble when our doctors do not recognize the difference between choosing to stop fighting against imminent death and choosing to kill.

The official AAP web site states [see AAP Fact Sheet] that their mission is "to attain optimal physical, mental, and social health and well-being for all infants, children, adolescents, and young adults." How do they pursue this mission? "One of the AAP’s major activities is to further the professional education of its members. Continuing education courses, annual scientific meetings, seminars, publications and statements from committees, councils, and sections form the basis of a continuing postgraduate educational program." [Fact Sheet]. In other words, they educate and influence pediatric medical professionals, in part, according to the considered positions formed by their various national appointed committees. One of these is the Committee on Bioethics whose chairperson and immediate past chairperson wrote this article.

Should this matter to Catholics (and to any Christian)? Absolutely! Euthanasia, however well-intentioned (i.e. killing so as to end suffering), is never permissible. Killing the innocent is killing the innocent--and never OK. There is a commandment (you know, the Ten Commandments) against it. Here is the definition of euthanasia used by the Catholic Church: "an action or an omission which of itself or by intention causes death, in order that all suffering may in this way be eliminated." [Declaration on Euthanasia]. Choosing not to give nutrition and hydration in the case of a non-lethal situation where food and water can still be assimilated by the body is an omission; it is a choice made for a specific purpose--to cause death. Likewise for antibiotics and insulin.

Christians do not do this. It is never permissible under any circumstances. Our calling is never to take another person's life, but rather to provide a self-giving, person-oriented service of love and compassion. We are to do all we can to comfort others, lessen their suffering, and to accompany them in their suffering--to suffer with others in solidarity as best we can. We are to show those who suffer by our caring presence that we love them, and that they are worth being with no matter what is happening to them. To do this well, we need grace. May we pray for it, and may God grant it to us.

There is a Reason; Suffering can Highlight the Love of Christ

Here is a beautiful song written by Ron Block and sung by Alison Krauss: There is a Reason. Click the link for a live video performance. (Unfortunately, I can't embed it).

Take note of the lyrics (below) as you watch. It speaks to the mystery of why Jesus chose to die in the way He did, so full of suffering. He could have saved us with far less suffering, for He is the infinite God; any suffering by the God-man would hold infinite value. Why, then, suffer as much as He did? In part, at least, it was to reveal the sheer depth and limitlessness of His love--to draw us into His heart.

I've seen hard times and I've been told
There isn't any wonder that I fall
Why do we suffer, crossing off the years
There must be a reason for it all

I've trusted in You, Jesus, to save me from my sin
Heaven is the place I call my home
But I keep on getting caught up in this world I'm living in
And Your voice it sometimes fades before I know

Hurtin' brings my heart to You, crying with my need
Depending on Your love to carry me
The love that shed His blood for all the world to see
This must be the reason for it all

Hurtin' brings my heart to You, a fortress in the storm
When what I wrap my heart around is gone
I give my heart so easily to the ruler of this world
When the one who loves me most will give me all

In all the things that cause me pain You give me eyes to see
I do believe but help my unbelief
I've seen hard times and I've been told
There is a reason for it all