By Kevin Hershey
There was a recent letter to the editor suggesting that the University's pending smoking ban is anti-Catholic.
The writer feels that it would be against the teachings of Christ to marginalize a group of addicts without offering them assistance or opportunities for reform. The basic concept we are dealing with in the smoking ban is taking a group of people already marginalized in society and further excluding them.
Indeed, it sounds like a modern form of the leper colonies that existed in biblical times.
Although this concept certainly seems contrary to Christ's teachings, I have to ask myself, what could be more classically Catholic than that?
While the letter writer makes a good point that it is unchristian to establish rules and regulations meant to exclude a certain subgroup, these kinds of rules are not at all inconsistent with the views of the Catholic Church on several other subgroups. Since when do we have qualms about being so unlike Christ? Since when do us Catholics hesitate to cast the first stone?
There may not be any doctrine or theology against those who smoke, but the Catholic Church has been strong in oppressing other groups for centuries and smokers should not expect to be treated with any special privileges. Consider the Church teaching on homosexuality. It is completely acceptable for a person to be gay, but it is considered an abomination to put that sexuality into practice. Similarly, Church doctrine has a "special" place for women. Women are greatly valued and even in some ways uplifted by Catholic teaching, but only as long as they stay away from places of power.
Who knew that you need a penis to consecrate the Eucharist or that a vagina can interfere with one's ability to read the Gospel?
Even if you take a look at the Virgin Mary, who we exalt as the model of feminine perfection and blessed among all women, you'll see that we value her for her unquestioning submission and complete lack of sexual activity.
The place of a woman in the Church is important, but it is preferred that she cloister herself in a convent, use her voice to lead us in the responsorial psalm (but never to preach), or serve as a vessel for reproducing as many young Catholics as physically possible to sustain future generations of believers. If she goes beyond these narrow boundaries or has a desire for the advancement of her gender, she is in danger of being considered inflammatory or undermining authority. If a group as large and as powerful as women have not been able to break the stained glass ceiling, the future does not look bright for smokers either.
We also have a "special" place for those who do not accept the primacy of the Catholic Church as a means to salvation. We open our doors to people of all faiths and welcome their attendance at our Masses, but only under the condition that they abstain from receiving the body and blood of Christ.
Basically, we invite non-Catholics to the feast, but refuse to feed them once they get there. Does that sound like Jesus? Personally, I have trouble imagining sitting down to dinner with Christ only to see Him picking and choosing which guests at His table merit food.
As I recall from reading the Bible, the New Testament is jam-packed full of story after story of Jesus breaking bread with and seeking the company of prostitutes, lepers, tax collectors and other assorted outcasts.
The exclusivity of the bread at Mass invites us to ask the question, "Which is worse: Protestant or prostitute?"
Apparently, it is the faithful Protestant who is somehow undeserving of Christ's body.
In the past several centuries, the Church has distanced itself from the radicalism and social activism that Jesus established. It has followed the classic model of the "oppressed becoming the oppressor." Jesus Christ was, after all, not exactly the prudent model of societal perfection that the Church has come to uplift today. He was known to push the envelope and go against the grain, dining with sinners and working on the Sabbath. Many figures uplifted by the Church today were known for going against the grain of their time and even some, such as St. Teresa of Avila, were brought up before the Inquisition. Unfortunately, the Catholicism has become the new watchdog against many of society's marginalized: women, homosexuals, non-Christians and possibly now smokers on our campus. It now uses the power it has gained throughout the years to oppress and exclude, rather than uplift and include.
So, given the Church's intolerant and condescending sentiments toward many groups of people, it looks like smokers should not expect the Church to provide a shoulder for them to lean on. I'd say, fear not, smokers.
The Church will make a special place for you too. That place may be similar to that of gays; it's okay to be a smoker, just stop smoking.
After all, hate the game, not the player, but for now, your "special" place seems to be off campus. Like good Catholics, we are respecting you as long as you stay away from us. We are establishing modern-day leper colonies by ostracizing you for your condition.
While I have never been a smoker, I know it can be hard to find a place to belong, a place free of judgment and stigma. If you are looking for such a welcoming space, the Catholic Church is probably the wrong place.
Try elsewhere.
If you remain hopeful, however, keep in mind that it took the Church over 300 years to accept the ideas of Galileo. Maybe there will be a place for you at the table of Catholicism in a few centuries.
Kevin Hershey is a sophomore English and Spanish major
