The Public Square

Richard John Neuhaus

Copyright (c) 1996 First Things 62 (April 1996): 65-80.

A Friendly But Dangerous Embrace

Ticking Crime Bomb" is a troubling article in the Weekly Standard by hard-nosed Princeton criminologist John J. DiIulio. While crime statistics have dipped recently, demographic and other forces are building for a big explosion in the near future. What to do? The best single answer, says DiIulio, is religion. "Why religion? Two reasons. First a growing body of scientific evidence from a variety of academic disciplines indicates that churches can help cure or curtail many severe socioeconomic ills. For example, a 1986 study by Harvard economist Richard Freeman found that among black urban youth, church attendance was a better predictor of who would escape drugs, crime, and poverty than any other single variable (e.g., income, family structure) and that churchgoing youth were more likely than otherwise comparable youth to behave in socially constructive ways. Likewise, a study by a panel of leading specialists just published by the journal Criminology concluded that, while much work remains to be done, there is substantial empirical evidence that religion serves 'as an insulator against crime and delinquency.' And we have long known that many of the most effective substance abuse prevention and treatment programs, both in society and behind bars, are either explicitly religious or quasi-religious in their orientation. Second, religion is the one answer offered time and again by the justice-system veterans, prisoners, and others I've consulted. With particular reference to black youth crime, for example, it is an answer proffered in recent books by everyone from liberal Cornel West to neoconservative Glenn Loury, Democrat Jesse Jackson to Republican Alan Keyes."

DiIulio is a strong proponent of incarceration. He notes that from 1985 to 1991 the number of juveniles in custody increased from 49,000 to nearly 58,000, and he believes that 150,000 will have to be incarcerated in the years just ahead. He is all for getting tough against those whom he calls the "super-predators," but getting tough is not enough. "Some of these children are now still in diapers, and they can be saved. So let our guiding principle be, 'Build churches, not jails'-or we will reap the whirlwind of our own moral bankruptcy."

Affirming religion because of its social utility is, to say the least, theologically problematic. It is, in fact, a kind of blasphemy. Ignoring the social utility of religion, on the other hand, is myopic. The months and years ahead will see increasing public policy interest in enlisting religion in tasks of social reconstruction. There will be the usual altercations about the separation of church and state, but the extreme separationists are now playing defense and have to count on the courts to preserve a part of all they have lost in the political forum. This trend toward a more flexible and generous understanding of the free exercise of religion in public is to be warmly welcomed.

At the same time, it is not too early to caution those who care most of all for the integrity of religion that there are real dangers in becoming entangled with public policy. While government's affectionate embrace may have its pleasures, we do well to keep in mind the maxim that the Queen's shilling is followed by the Queen's command. Or, as one pundit put it, "the shekels come with shackles." One way to avoid the government regulation and control that can stifle the very dynamics that enable religious institutions to do so many things so well is to make sure that the shekels go not to the institution but to the people who choose the services of the institution. For example, education vouchers to parents who can then redeem them at the school of their choice.

"Build churches, not jails" is a fine idea. Government can help that to happen. Not by getting into the church-building business, but by: 1) getting out of the way and letting churches do what they do best, and 2) providing vouchers, tax credits, and other measures that enable people to meet their needs in the way they think best. In education, health care, housing, and other needs, almost everybody almost all the time knows what is best for them and their hildren. And those who don't, except in the case of criminal behavior, have the right to be wrong. We do not need the government to build churches. We do need a government that makes it easier for people to build their lives with the help of the institutions that command their trust. When that happens, both religion and the public good will be better served than either is at present.

The Coming Age of the Spirit

Few people have written so imaginatively about the relationship between law and religion as Harold J. Berman, for many years at Harvard and now at Emory. His little book The Interaction of Law and Religion (1973) had a strong bearing on my own thinking about these questions, and since then he has produced important tomes on law, revolution, reason, and morality in various cultures. When Harold Berman speaks, it pays to listen.

DePaul Law Review has published the annual lecture of the Center for Church/State Studies in which Berman addresses "Law and Logos." This is an ambitious effort-some would say too ambitious-to set forth a "Christian jurisprudence" that encompasses a trinitarian understanding of human nature and law, offering a legal basis for the emerging global community. This is heady stuff. Talk about global community triggers in some hearts fibrillations of utopian excitement, and from others it evokes dismissive grumblings about globaloney. Berman goes so far as to identify with the twelfth-century enthusiast Abbot Joachim of Fiore in anticipating a coming "age of the Holy Spirit," and takes more seriously than some of us are able to the "Declaration of a Global Ethic" that was drafted by Hans Kung for the 1993 Parliament of the World's Religions.

As utopian fevers rise with the approaching Third Millennium, anyone thinking about providentially guided historical dispensations should be inoculated by the reading of Norman Cohn's splendid The Pursuit of the Millennium (1970). Immunity to millennial fanaticism, however, does not require that one deny the ways in which something quite new is happening to bring the entire world into more intense and complicated interaction. In communications, economics, and interreligious relations, there are hints of an emerging something that might be called a global society, perhaps-stretching the point somewhat-a global community. The undisciplined excitements of a Hans Kung and the ludicrous pretensions of the Parliament of the World's Religions should not blind us to the fact that world-historical change does happen, and that such change may be part of God's unfolding purposes in time.

In this context, Berman's "Law and Logos" is a suggestive contribution. The three main schools of jurisprudence (positivist, natural law, and historical) must, he says, be reintegrated in the world that is emerging, and that requires a shared set of assumptions and aspirations that can only be described as religious. A similar intuition, it might be noted, informs John Paul II's cautious but persistent efforts to create a new conversation among world religions. Both caution and persistence are required if reflection on these questions is to be prevented from launching itself into the stratosphere of never-never- land futurism. In thinking about the common human future, Berman seems to suggest that we must make a decision between the particular and the universal, whereas I would argue that it is through the particular-more specifically, through Christian truth claims-that we more surely understand the universal.

Berman writes: "Blood and soil still command far greater loyalty than our shared transnational economic, political, and cultural interests as well as our shared transnational religious convictions. We must make a decision in our minds and hearts concerning these historical alternatives. It is not simply a matter of what we prefer. It is a matter, first, of what is historically destined, what corresponds to the purposes for which human life was, and continues to be, created on this planet." We would do well to brace ourselves for much more talk along these lines in the years ahead, and we can be sure that most of it will not be so temperate as Harold Berman's argument. There undoubtedly is a decision to be made. But the decision we are called to make, I expect, is not between the particular and the universal but whether these are in fact the "historical alternatives." Huge questions, these. Those interested in their further exploration might find it worth a trip to the library for Harold J. Berman's "Law and Logos."

Obeying in Order to Understand

In a wide-ranging interview in Ireland's Sunday Business Post, Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF), is pressed on the question of women's ordination. After all is said and done, doesn't it make women second-class citizens in the Church? asks reporter David Quinn. It is a great error, responds Ratzinger, "to think priests are first among Christians and everyone else is second class." If we must speak of status, it is determined by holiness, and the great majority of the saints are lay people. Moreover, in the New Testament "you can see that for the Lord priestly service entails being in the last place, not the first. This is the opposite of power and privilege."

Ratzinger allows that the reasons why the Church is not authorized to ordain are not self-evident, but it is finally a matter of obedience. "It must be pointed out first of all that we are not building Christianity out of our own ideas. The Church is given out of the will of God, and the will of God is in turn a gift to the Church and it determines our will. We must be in communion with the will of the Lord. Decisions of the Lord can at first seem inexplicable to us. We must follow his way before we can begin to understand. The Pope is obliged to obey the Lord's will. The Lord's will is visible in the New Testament and in the tradition of the Christian life and he has shown that men and women have different gifts which are shown in different ways but are equal in dignity. We have to reflect more on why the Lord decided so, but we cannot simply treat the Church as a sociological construct and change it according to our will."

Quinn asks if it is possible that someday this decision could be reversed, to which Ratzinger responds, "It is impossible because it is part of the deposit of faith." But maybe a different pope will view the matter differently? Ratzinger says, "There are certain things the pope cannot do if he is to be obedient to the will of God, and this includes allowing the ordination of women. The Church's magisterium [teaching office] is not like a government which can overturn the decisions of its predecessors." But in the making of such decisions shouldn't the Church be more open and democratic? "I think," says Ratzinger "we must reflect more on what democracy in the exercise of authority would mean. Is truth determined by a majority vote, only for a new 'truth' to be 'discovered' by a new majority tomorrow? In the fields of science or medicine such a method of arriving at the truth would not be taken seriously. A democratic magisterium in that sense would be a false magisterium."

Quinn wonders whether Ratzinger and this pope are not trying to impose uniformity on the Church. Not uniformity but unity, says Ratzinger. "It is very important to distinguish between the two." Unity is not just a vague ideal but must be based in the truth, "and that truth cannot be relativized. It has an objective content and it is one of the tasks of the Church to teach what that content is." Then, with an eye toward some Catholic ecumenists, "It is odd that sometimes those who search most ardently for unity with other churches overlook the need for unity within their own church."

Against Ecclesial Omnipotence

While some depict him as the hard-nosed Panzerkardinal, Ratzinger is a very gentle man, almost infinitely patient in engaging opposing arguments. Key to his thinking is the connection between understanding and faith as obedience. "We must follow his way before we can begin to understand." Overlooked in many discussions of women's ordination is the fact that the Catholic position is one of self- limiting modesty. There may be good reasons for ordaining women, we may earnestly want to ordain women, but the position is that the Church is not authorized by her Lord to do so. A close associate of the Cardinal's put it to me this way: "Even if one takes the position that we don't know whether or not the Church is authorized, it means there is uncertainty. Does anyone really believe that the Church can or should ordain in doubt?"

Addressing the question in the London Tablet, Fr. Avery Dulles takes a similar tack: "As a final consideration favoring the Pope and the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, one might consider where the burden of proof must lie. To me it seems clear that the presumption must be on the side of tradition. Even if it were shown to be probable that the whole tradition had erred, that probability would not clear the way to ordaining women, for the sacrament of holy orders could not be properly conferred unless its validity were certain. In view of the arguments given, I do not see how one could obtain certitude that women could be validly ordained to the priesthood."

Dulles notes that John Paul II has many times, and most recently on September 3, 1995, emphasized that the Church's inability to ordain women is entirely separate from the Church's strong affirmation of the equal dignity of women. Dulles comments: "He called for the full involvement of women in the various areas of the Church's life, including theological teaching, liturgical ministry, and pastoral care 'except in those tasks that belong properly to the priest.' To accomplish this integration while reserving the priestly and episcopal office to men is one of the major tasks confronting the Catholic Church in the coming generations."

The Sins of Dr. King

The Martin Luther King, Jr., Plagiarism Story, edited by Theodore Pappas, has been published by the Rockford Institute (Rockford, IL, $10), and has renewed, here and there, the discussion of the gap between Dr. King's public and personal lives. In these pages, I have frequently referred to Dr. King in admiring tones, and just as frequently we get letters asking whether I don't know this or that about his personal life. Yes, I know. I was not an intimate of Dr. King's but I knew him fairly well, and I still admire him, with an admiration marked by deep ambivalence.

There is now no dispute about the fact that Dr. King plagiarized much of his doctoral dissertation at Boston University. And, for all the overheated language of his little book, Pappas establishes that much of the prestige media tried to hide or belittle King's wrongdoing, while some academics tried to disguise plagiarism by reference to "creative borrowing" and similar euphemisms. In addition to his plagiarism, which was not limited to the doctorate, it has been public knowledge for a long time that Dr. King was something of a philanderer. Does this mean he was not a great man? In his splendid book, The Southern Front, Eugene Genovese speaks of King as a "constructive historical figure" and adds, "Great men, more often than not, commit great sins." There is a measure of truth in that, but historical greatness does not excuse grave sin, as I expect Genovese would agree.

I have read all the major books on Dr. King and the movement that he led, and the best, in my judgment, is the late Ralph Abernathy's When the Walls Came Tumbling Down. The book was savaged by reviewers and soon went out of print, because it sometimes showed King in a unflattering light and, perhaps more important, because it made clear the utterly bourgeois intentions of the original civil rights movement. But Abernathy knew Dr. King better than anyone, and his account rings true.

The greatness of Dr. King was in his articulating with unparalleled public effectiveness the truth that the only American future that is socially sustainable and morally acceptable is a future of "black and white together." And the truth that people should be judged "not by the color of their skin but by the content of their character." That his own character was deeply flawed is a judgment that cannot be denied. But he was a friend, a leader of genius, and one of the most impressive human beings I have known. He has now faced a judgment infinitely more important than ours, and I pray it is a judgment of mercy. Meanwhile, his name is rightly held in public honor, not as a model of Christian sanctity but as a representative of the belief that "the American dilemma" of black-white relations is not beyond hope. In the face of mounting separatisms and counsels of despair, both black and white, that is a belief to be carefully cherished.

Harvesting the Killing Fields

In June of 1994, the American Medical Association's Council on Ethical and Judicial Affairs issued an opinion that permitted the "harvesting" of organs for transplant from living infants with anencephaly (see Gilbert Meilaender, "Second Thoughts About Body Parts," page 32 in this issue). The idea, and the practice, is that doctors and hospitals would target anencephalic babies; not waiting for the infants to die, but killing them by a timetable that permits snatching the functioning organs from their still live bodies. (Or does "body snatching" apply only to the dead?) Worse, if there is a worse, the Council's opinion seemed to endorse a "higher brain function" criterion for determining candidates for organ harvest, thereby opening the door to the medically sanctioned, time-tabled killing of whole classes of patients: coma victims, those with severe mental disabilities, and a good many of the dying whose organs may be in demand.

After three requests from the AMA's House of Delegates for reconsideration, the Council at last reversed its opinion in December of 1995. The driving motive may have been fear of something like an insurrection in the AMA. Although they were defeated, two proposals to limit the Council's power-one from the Young Physicians Section and another from the Utah delegation-reached the floor of the House of Delegates. The Council, however, gave scientific reasons for its reversal: imperfect diagnostic tools for the determination of anencephaly and lack of proof that anencephalic babies lack consciousness.

Any defeat of the forces bent on turning doctors into active killers is to be applauded, as is any affirmation of care for patients put at risk by the flaccidity of current medical ethics. The cited reasons for the Council's reversal, however, leave untouched, and may reinforce, the disturbing notion that medically determined "higher brain function" is the right definition of human death. The pressures and temptations to "harvest" the organs of still-living patients are powerful, and it is widely agreed that effective regulation is almost impossible under that definition of death.

Chicago's Joseph Cardinal Bernardin, addressing the AMA House of Delegates at the same December session in which the Council reversed its stand on anencephalic infants, reminded the AMA members that medicine is a vocation. Some doctors "have succumbed to the siren songs of scientific triumph, financial success, and political power," and have thus allowed medicine to grow "increasingly mechanistic, commercial, and soulless." To "renew their covenants" doctors need to remember that they have "moral obligations" far beyond their legal or contractual ones.

The AMA's Council on Ethical and Judicial Affairs knows that one point of medical ethics is the protection of patients from the activities of unethical doctors. What apparently is not fully understood is that the protection of patients requires the protection of doctors against those who would make them agents of death. Every doctor faces hard cases and, in consultation with families and others concerned, knows that there is a time when dying must be allowed to take its course. There is a very big difference between such cases and the killing of a living patient, even though some ethicists seem eager to fudge the difference. The Ramsey Colloquium (FT, February 1992) got it right in setting out the imperative "always to care, never to kill." That is no less true when caring means simply alleviating pain and being with, waiting with, the dying. When there are organs that are in demand the thought arises, almost inevitably, that the dying might yet do some good by dying a little sooner. The AMA reversed the decision that doctors should act on that thought in one limited case, but it is by no means evident that the AMA has recognized the evil of the thought itself. Medical ethics is about protecting patients by controlling unethical practices, but the understanding of what is ethical is dangerously pliable unless it is understood that the constituting mandate of medicine is always to care, never to kill.

The Fact of the Matter About Catholic Politics

"How and Why the Catholic Church Engages the Body Politic." That's the title of a detailed address delivered at Colorado College last fall by Mark Chopko, general counsel to the U.S. Catholic Conference (USCC). Published in the December 7, 1995 issue of Origins, the address invites a careful reading, and not only by Catholics. Mr. Chopko is a gifted lawyer, but he is a lawyer, and it is therefore not surprising that his reflection is marked by an intense concern-one might almost say obsession-with protecting the Church's tax exemption. This requires, in his view, the repeated assertion that the political positions of the USCC can in no way be called partisan. "The fact of the matter is," he says, "because of the diversity of the Church's agenda, it becomes increasingly difficult for people to categorize Catholics. What the bishops offer is a set of values and principles as well as broad experience in dealing with those in need. In brief summary, what the Church affirms and promotes is human rights, and it denounces and condemns violations of those rights."

"The fact of the matter" is by no means so evident. So many commentators have pointed out that the "diversity" of USCC positions is overwhelmingly on the side of the Democratic Party that one risks being tedious in mentioning it again. And it should be noted that this "fact of the matter" is highlighted chiefly not by conservative critics but by liberals who consistently praise the bishops for their opposition to the Republican insurgency. Note also in Mr. Chopko's statement the swift move from the positions embraced by "Catholics" to the positions defined by what "the bishops offer." On a great host of disputed questions in the political arena, it is suggested that Catholics take their cue from the bishops. Survey research and voting analyses show that this is contrary to "the fact of the matter." But the question is whether the Catholic laity should march in political lockstep with the bishops. It requires a high order of old-fashioned clericalism to answer in the affirmative.

Mr. Chopko's exposition is enlightening on several scores, but there is a deep incoherence at the heart of it. On the one hand, we are told that the bishops have a distinctive vision of the just and humane society, while on the other we are told that it is a good thing that "it becomes increasingly difficult for people to categorize Catholics." If the bishops are effectively communicating their distinctive vision should it not result in Catholics being distinctive? Now "the fact of the matter" is that the bishops are not effectively communicating their vision, and the further "fact of the matter" is that that vision is hardly distinctive, being, with a few very important exceptions, the conventional wisdom on the Democratic left. Mr. Chopko suggests that "the diversity of the Church's agenda" has the happy result of Catholics being pretty much like everybody else. That, one might protest, is a very high price to pay for protecting the Church's tax exemption. Happily or otherwise, relatively few Catholics, and relatively few Americans, embrace the USCC position of being liberal Democrats on everything except abortion, euthanasia, and school choice. One might conclude that tax exemption is effectively protected by the ineffectiveness of the bishops in promoting "the diversity of the Church's agenda."

No Order of Importance

On the distinctiveness of the bishops' agenda, there is another illuminating passage in Mr. Chopko's address. He says that the agenda "highlights" sixteen issues. "I list them, as the statement does, alphabetically: abortion; arms control, arms trade, and disarmament; capital punishment; communications; discrimination and racism; economy; education; environmental justice; euthanasia; families and children; food and agriculture; health, AIDS, and substance abuse; housing; human rights; immigration; international affairs and the United Nations; refugees; regional concerns: Eastern Europe, the Middle East, Latin America, and Asia; violence; welfare reform."

That's a long list, and under each of the sixteen "highlighted" issues (actually, we count twenty on his list) are numerous policy specifics. A careful reading of the bishops' 1996 statement on "Political Responsibility" comes up with a count of more than fifty policy specifics on which the bishops take a position. The bishops have repeatedly said that abortion is their number one priority, and it does appear first on the list-but only, as Mr. Chopko notes, because it comes first alphabetically. If abortion were designated as "unborn children" or "protecting the unborn" or "respect life," it would presumably be way down on the list. Of course, what Mr. Chopko calls the bishops' "values and principles as well as broad experience" can be extended to taking a position on almost everything under the political sun. But does anyone believe-do the bishops believe-that they have competence or a distinctively Catholic contribution to make on these many disputed questions? On farm support? On the UN budget? On organizing cyberspace? On government housing programs? On the effectiveness of welfare experiments? And on and on and on.

The vaunted "diversity of the Church's agenda" lends a measure of moral support for a beleaguered liberalism in the political arena, and the inclusion of a few issues that offend liberal sensibilities may effectively confound IRS definitions of partisanship. The end result, however, is not a vision of leadership but a catalogue of liberal Democratic prejudices joined to what other liberals view as a few Catholic moral hang-ups. In addition to the tragedy of undermining the credibility of the bishops, this political agenda is profoundly discouraging to those Catholics who believe that some questions, such as abortion, deserve more than a merely alphabetical priority. "How and Why the Catholic Church Engages the Body Politic" is a very important subject. Now that their lawyer has addressed it from the angle of preserving liberal respectability and protecting tax exemption, one hopes that bishops will take up the task of addressing that subject in the light of Catholic doctrine. If or when they do so, they will find ample sources to draw upon in the social teaching of John Paul II, which, in starkest contrast to the statements of the USCC, is more interested in the cardinal doctrines of the Christian faith than in the next election.

Robertson Davies, R.I.P.

"The intellect of man is forced to choose," claimed William Butler Yeats, "perfection of the life, or of the work." The Canadian novelist Robertson Davies (who died on December 2, 1995, at the age of eighty- two) did a great deal of very fine work. But if he had ever been forced to choose between Yeats' stern alternatives, he would have decided without hesitation for life: a rollicking life, a boisterous life, a life, one might say, that strove always to be larger than life.

Davies was in fact an eccentric of the kind we don't see much anymore- primarily, I think, because it takes so much real effort to create a genuine character with which to face the world. Most of us seem unwilling nowadays to pay either ourselves or the world the courtesy of that much exertion. Of his undergraduate strolls around Oxford adorned with a walking stick, broad-brimmed hat, and monocle, a 1937 student magazine declared, "Unless someone pretty desperate comes along, Robertson Davies looks like being the last of the real undergraduate 'figures.'" From the beginning to the end of his long, enjoyable life, he never ceased to be a figure.

Without the work to back it up, however, there is something a little false, a little prissy, about eccentric character. Davies was certainly a character. But he could afford to be, for he was a worker as well. In 1990, he delivered for the Institute on Religion and Public Life our annual Erasmus Lecture (published as "Literature and Moral Purpose" in FT, November 1990). It was a typical Davies performance: a literary stroll so charming that the listeners hardly noticed the extent to which they had been brought around to share the lecturer's sensibility. Davies had real learning-his first work was a significant study of boy actors in Shakespeare-and he had the charm and skill to wear his learning well.

It is on his novels that Davies' reputation ultimately rests, though novel writing was for him almost an afterthought following his earlier careers in journalism and the theater. After a successful undergraduate career in Oxford's dramatic society, Davies worked as a stage manager at London's Old Vic theater before returning to Canada. Working for a newspaper in Ontario, he created and popularized the social commentator "Samuel Marchbanks," a distinctly Canadian curmudgeon. (Davies was also an inveterate practical joker: he once wrote a hilarious piece for a Canadian magazine accusing himself of plagiarizing from Marchbanks.) Though successful in journalism, he never found quite the success he sought in the theater, and in 1951 he turned an idea for an unproduced play about an amateur production of Shakespeare's Tempest into Tempest-Tost, his first novel. The rest, as they say, is history. Eleven novels followed, at least three of which made him a perpetual candidate for the Nobel Prize: the Dickensian Leaven of Malice, the Jungian Fifth Business, and the Rabelaisian The Rebel Angels.

Whether or not he actually deserved the Nobel Prize is a question I leave for other heads to ponder. In his later years, as the head of Massey College, a graduate school at the University of Toronto, Davies found the ideal reward for his lifetime of work in Canadian letters and the ideal setting for his large character. The thought that there will be for us no more of his novels-with their high Anglican squabbles (Davies was received into the Church of England in the late 1930s), their deep knowledge of human foibles, and their real love for humankind-is a sad one. So, too, is the thought that there will be for us no more of his jokes, his charm, and his style. Our loss is the angels' gain.

While We're At It

Sources: John J. DiIulio, Jr., on the coming crime explosion, Weekly Standard, November 27, 1995. Harold J. Berman lecture on "Law and Logos," DePaul Law Review, Vol. 44, No. 1. David Quinn on Cardinal Ratzinger, and Ratzinger quoted, Sunday Business Post (Ireland), December 17, 1995; Avery Dulles on women's ordination, Tablet, December 9, 1995. On "harvesting" organs for transplant from living infants with anencephaly, American Medical News, December 25, 1995.

While We're At It: "Ballad of the Goodly Fere" by Ezra Pound, from Personae; Copyright 1926 by Ezra Pound; reprinted by permission of New Directions Publishing Corp. On pornography in Kenosha, Wisc., Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, November 7, 12, and 13, 1995. Review of Ian McKellan's Richard III by Terrence Rafferty in New Yorker, January 22, 1996. Michael Bourdeaux on role of Western churches in dealing with Soviet bloc, Tablet, November 11, 1995. George Kennan on Autopsy on an Empire by Jack Matlock, New York Review of Books, November 16, 1995. On Michael Medved, New Jersey MetroWest Jewish News, November 23, 1995. Glenn Loury on black youth, Public Interest, Fall 1995. New York Times op-ed musings, December 2, 1995. On Dutch Lutheran Church blessing of gay relationships, ENI Bulletin, November 21, 1995. Harvey Cox on "The Transcendent Dimension," Nation, January 1, 1996. On George Delury, New York Times, December 15, 1995. Graham Walker on pro-choice logic, Human Life Review, Winter 1996. Neal Freeman on Bill Rickenbacker, National Review, December 11, 1995. Charles Krauthammer on medicalizing morality, Public Interest, Fall 1995. Irving Kristol on religion, Public Interest, Fall 1995. On Chelsea House gay books series, Washington Post, October 27, 1995. On National Council of Churches in Australia and racial separatism, ENI Bulletin, December 18, 1995. On controversy over awarding of Peace Prize at Frankfurt book fair, Economist, October 21, 1995. On Catholic Church in Ireland, New Criterion, December 1995. Bernard Bailyn on The American Revolution in Indian Country by Colin G. Calloway, New York Review of Books, October 5, 1995. A. J. Bacevich on Commentary and the return of religion, Weekly Standard, December 4, 1995.