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My Statement of Conscientious Objection

Patrick M. Tigue ’04By Patrick M. Tigue ’04

I cannot take human life under any circumstance or for any reason. This does not mean that I believe that ethics are simple. They are not. I am generally suspicious of absolutism or orthodoxy when it comes to the realm of ethical choice. But I believe, as a Roman Catholic, that we live in a world touched most profoundly by God’s grace. I also acknowledge the real presence of sin in the world. I mention this because I want to register my deep belief that our world exists as imperfect. We do not live in a state where the moral maxims that speak of the good may be blandly stated as universal maxims with no attention to the concrete experience of history. We live in history and must make our decisions accordingly, based on that history and the One whom all history is moving toward, Jesus Christ.

This being said, what we must never compromise is our commitment to do the good in line with God’s will. Consequently, I believe that doing fundamental violence to another human being is never good in God’s eyes. I define “fundamental violence” as any act of aggression that seeks to destroy what is human, and more deeply divine, in that person. Things like torture or rape—which may not result in biological death—fall within the realm of this prohibition. They are fundamentally evil and no utilitarian aim can justify them.

As a Catholic and Christian, I am called to bring Christ to this world, to be an instrument of His peace. Participation in fundamental violence, or aiding in any effort that supports, sponsors or carries out fundamental violence is totally unacceptable. The taking of a human life is evil and the epitome of fundamental violence. This is why I cannot kill or participate in any activity which, in any way, supports killing for any reason.

The Catholic Church allows for its followers to take two recognized positions regarding war and killing. One is the pacifist position I have briefly outlined thus far. The other is the “just war tradition,” in which killing is viewed as being permissible under very strict circumstances. I fully embrace the first position as an authentic expression of God’s will for the Church. I reject the latter position as, perhaps, well intentioned but terribly misguided. At the root of the just war tradition is the notion that some killing, in some circumstances, can be done out of love. The entire theory of just killing relies on this notion. We can, the theory claims, fulfill Christ’s dual commandment to love God and love our neighbor by engaging in certain types of killing—a killing done out of love. Killing done with love in your heart. I stand up today and firmly say “no” to this idea.

I believe that God calls us to refrain from killing because it cannot be done out of love. In fact, the very act of killing necessitates the absence of love. I know this because it requires the dehumanization of the one you kill. You would not, in your right mind, kill yourself. The only way women and men move themselves to kill, I believe, is by first attempting to erase the image of themselves, and more importantly, the image of God, in the person whom they seek to kill. If they are successful in blinding themselves to the person’s real nature and status—that of a child of God, whom Christ is utterly present in—then killing becomes possible. I have a profound faith that Christ never asks us to deny His presence. Killing requires such a denial of God, through whose grace all good things come.

We are called to make many ethical compromises. This is a part of being human in the world God has so graciously crafted for us. Killing, because it is always evil, cannot be a part of such a compromise. The Holy Spirit begs us to realize this. Wisdom, at Her most profound, speaks to us in whispers that we cannot ignore, and calls us to a conversion of heart where the thought of taking a life should be, and is, unfathomable. I refuse to kill what I am supposed to love, and as a Christian, I am called to love each human person as a child of God. Killing radically damages my ability to love and radically destroys that very capacity in the other person whom I kill.

In one way of thinking of it, the Holy Spirit helps us understand ourselves by making us understand the first Other—and the most important relationship we engage in—is our relationship to God. He is the first and final Other. And when we kill, we are being asked to strike out with hate and violence toward God. We are being asked to kill an image of the divine. If I am called to show reverence, respect, and to give thanks to the Lord for those made in His image, how can I possibly smash a mirror of the divine in another human being? I cannot. I will not. Christ calls me to speak up and refuse any such request no matter who requests it and out of whatever motives they do so. Not for the state. Not for my family. Not even for myself. I cannot kill if I am to love God or to love anything at all.

I believe this enough to give my life for it if that is what I am called to do. Being ready to give one’s life in the service of what one believes is what Christ calls us to. This is what He did, and, as He promised, He transcended this sacrifice through His Resurrection and made us understand His love anew. There is a profound difference between such an act of nonviolent resistance, such as the Crucifixion, and the actions of a soldier who takes a life on the battlefield. Christ teaches us to be desperately active. The call to pacifism, for me, is not passive. It is simply absent of violence. If there were a way for me to die to protect my family or my country without killing, I would do so without hesitation, if the cause were clearly just. But no cause is just enough for me to kill. Christ will not come that way. We cannot bring His peace through violence and death. It is true that any peace, no matter how it is established, will be provisional until everything is fulfilled in Christ. We therefore have an obligation to listen to the Holy Spirit’s whispers, and to attempt to fashion a peace that will serve humanity for as much time as possible. However, we cannot allow ourselves to be blinded in our desire for peace.

We must accept that any peace we achieve now will be temporary. This does not mean we should use violence as a means to achieve a temporary peace. In fact, it necessitates the exact opposite response. Because the peace of Christ will only fully come with Christ, we must trust that this is so and refrain from arrogantly assuming that we can create that peace ourselves through violence. We cannot control and make peace through violence. We can only let the peace of Christ happen through us by loving one another, even in the most difficult circumstances. I refuse, through the act of killing, to claim, in a prideful manner, through evil no less, that I do not need God. That I can keep the peace myself. That I, by destroying the human person—through which Christ seeks to bring about His peace—will make His peace my own. This is not what I am called to. I am called, as a person of faith, to trust the Lord. To trust in what the Spirit speaks to me. To let go of control and not seek to dominate others through killing, even if they seek to dominate me. An opportunity to kill or to respond with active nonviolence is an opportunity to say “no” or “yes” to God’s call to be human. I am firmly and totally committed to saying “yes” to God and, therefore, “no” to killing and “no” to war which simply magnifies killing to a ludicrous magnitude.

War will never achieve peace because only Christ can do that. And Christ already showed us that his power is not in munitions and slaughter but in the Cross. The Cross stands always as the fundamental symbol of my life. I look up to it. I see it everywhere, and it inspires me to love. And this love—the love I am called to, the love that bears the cross—cannot manifest itself in killing because that is exactly what it bore and bears.

Christ gave Himself up to death instead of causing more death. In this giving up, He defeated death. I cannot, and will not, dishonor God by futilely trying to make His Son’s sacrifice meaningless. I will follow His path to life which leads away from killing. A Christian cannot bring death because Christ brought only life. I am a Christian before anything else. I, too, will bring only life. I shall not kill.

 

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