It was a religious duty they were observing, but the Pope chose to speak to them not of prayer or sacraments, but about threats to religious liberty, the proper relations between Church and State and the role of the Catholic citizen in a secular nation.

His appeal to all Catholics to defend religious liberty could not have been more timely, as the very next day the Obama Administration announced new regulations denying any conscience exemption whatever from the requirement that private institutions, including religious ones, pay for abortifacient drugs and elective sterilizations in their health care plans.

The new rule so crudely and obviously violates the First Amendment, which guarantees the right to free exercise of religion as the first of our civil liberties, that Catholics of all stripes have risen as one against it. There aren’t many documents the president of the USCCB and Sr. Carol Keehan of the Catholic Health Association (who famously bucked the bishops to promote Obamacare) could sign jointly, but there they are in the press release, united in fierce objection to an unjust regulation.**

Why would anyone distort the Bill of Rights to compel private institutions built by private citizens to buy and distribute products that poison conscience?

It’s because increasingly “freedom of religion” is coming to be understood as a shriveled “freedom of worship.” You may attend any house of worship you like, and you may believe as you wish: in private. The right to live in accordance with your beliefs is something else again.

The Holy See is familiar with this contraction of civil liberties, since it champions the rights of Christians all over the world, particularly in Islamic nations, which claim to honor religious liberty, even while compelling Christians to observe Islamic law and making it a crime to speak openly of their faith.

This is why the First Amendment guarantees free exercise of religion, not merely freedom of religion.

A wholesome separation of Church and state does not mean, “Shut up.” The Pope sees this clearly.

“The legitimate separation of Church and State cannot be taken to mean that the Church must be silent on certain issues, nor that the State may choose not to engage, or be engaged by, the voices of committed believers in determining the values which will shape the future of the nation.”

He’s clear also that the Church has no right to impose its faith on others. To the extent ideas flowing from or undergirded by faith are embodied in the law, it has to be because they are true by nature of the dignity of each human person or because religious citizens have persuaded their fellows that they are sound.

“The Church’s witness . . . is of its nature public: she seeks to convince by proposing rational arguments in the public square.”

The Constitution of itself is insufficient to defend civil rights, however. Noble as it is, it is merely a tool which can be put to the service of wildly differing notions of liberty. What gives it its content—or used to—is the Declaration of Independence.

As Benedict notes, “At the heart of every culture, whether perceived or not, is a consensus about the nature of reality and the moral good, and thus about the conditions for human flourishing.”

Praising our nation’s founding, he goes on to say, “In America, that consensus, as enshrined in your nation’s founding documents, was grounded in a worldview shaped not only by faith but a commitment to certain ethical principles deriving from nature and nature’s God.”

Echoing Proverbs 25:11, Lincoln once described the Declaration as an apple of gold within a picture of silver (the Constitution). “The picture was made not to conceal or destroy the apple, but to adorn and preserve it. The picture was made for the apple — not the apple for the picture.”

For Lincoln and the Founders, the Constitution serves and secures the inalienable rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness bestowed on each of us by nature’s God.

Benedict notes that the moral consensus embodied by the Declaration is eroding. The political battles for the right to life, the defense of marriage and the free exercise of religion are the body politic asking ourselves whether we are still committed to the moral principles of the Declaration or will now put the Constitution at the service of a radically different conception of the human person.

** Editor’s Note: Since this column was penned, Sr. Carol Keehan has accepted a “compromise” that the bishops reject, putting them once again at odds. You can read the bishops’ reason for rejecting the compromise here.

This article was first published at Catholic News Agency

At the same time, a largely leaderless Republican Party has itself experienced a period of soul-searching. Perhaps as a credit to the novel Constitutional Puritanism of Ron Paul, a new wave of political rhetoric that hearkens back to just before the American Revolutionary War has gained a following. At first, this movement looked to be no more than a scattering of “Tea Party” protests across the country. However, as news breaks of massive federal deficits and a Democratic government seemingly content to ram through new spending, including an unpopular “reform” of healthcare, many people feel as though something about our current administration has to change. Something has gone wrong, enough is enough, and perhaps if we retrace our steps back to the original documents on which our political structure is based, we may find a solution. If this is the direction popular sentiment is headed, books like political pundit Glenn Beck’s Common Sense (which, as the subtitle acknowledges, is “Inspired by Thomas Paine”) and Ron Paul’s own The Revolution: A Manifesto may represent a political movement with potential for growth. In addition to merely calling for a sort of Constitutional Originalism, it seems to me that there is something a little ominous in this pre-Revolutionary rhetoric. In particular, it seems to suggest the possibility (or even the merit) of a violent overthrow of the United States government if no more peaceful means for substantial change can be employed. If so, what should Catholics think about this?

Pope Pius IX looks to have quashed revolutionary sentiments entirely in rejecting the thought that “It is lawful to withhold obedience to legitimate rulers, indeed even to rebel.” This was listed as one of many modern errors in his famous Syllabus . In Etsi multa luctuosa , Pope Pius IX further explained that the Church teaches that the faithful should “inviolably keep [obedience] to the supreme princes and their laws insofar as they are secular” however the Church “has restricted this fear of princes to evil works, plainly excluding the same [fear of punishment] from the observance of the divine law”. That is to say, rendering to Caesar what is Caesar’s involves obedience to the secular laws of the land insofar as they do not violate our more fundamental obligation to give to God what is God’s. If the State calls us to sin, we may not obey. In all other respects, we are to submit to those who rule over us.

In response, one who would seek to defend the legitimacy of rebellion might draw upon the qualifier “legitimate” –- arguing that it is wrong to disobey or even to rebel against legitimate authority, but it is an open question whether our current government is indeed legitimate (or will continue to be so in the future). The Revolutionary War that gave birth to this nation was justified along similar lines. The founders argued in the Declaration of Independence that people posses a ‘right to revolution’ in certain circumstances. Thus,

“[T]o secure these rights [of Life, Liberty, and Pursuit of Happiness], Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government […].”

As the power to legitimately rule a people derives from the consent of the people, so the thinking goes, then it is perfectly legitimate for these same people to deny consent when the government deprives people of their rights. If the ruler continues to hold office after the consent of the governed has been denied and even defends his position with force, the argument continues, then he is no better than a usurper of power and can be justly taken out of a position of authority by the people, in whom all power ultimately resides.

This pattern of argument must be rejected by the faithful Catholic. In his encyclical Diuturnum , Pope Leo XIII writes plainly:

“Indeed, very many men of more recent times, walking in the footsteps of those who in a former age assumed to themselves the name of philosophers, say that all power comes from the people; so that those who exercise it in the State do so not as their own, but as delegated to them by the people, and that, by this rule, it can be revoked by the will of the very people by whom it was delegated. But from these, Catholics dissent, who affirm that the right to rule is from God, as from a natural and necessary principle.”

Pope Leo XIII continues that democracy is a legitimate means to select such a ruler, provided certain conditions are satisfied, but once a leader is justly selected power is not derived from below, so to speak, but is granted to him by God. Consequently, Pope Leo argues, the ruler

“will by that very reason immediately acquire a dignity greater than human […] Whence it will behoove citizens to submit themselves and to be obedient to rulers, as to God, not so much through fear of punishment as through respect for their majesty; nor for the sake of pleasing, but through conscience, as doing their duty. And by this means authority will remain far more firmly seated in its place. For the citizens, perceiving the force of this duty, would necessarily avoid dishonesty and contumacy, because they must be persuaded that they who resist State authority resist the divine will; that they who refuse honor to rulers refuse it to God Himself.”

The entire encyclical is worth reading in full, but these selections should put to a definitive end any idea among Catholics that a repeat of our revolutionary war may be justified. This becomes even clearer when we take seriously the fact that our initial Revolutionary War was illegitimate and cooperation with it immoral; although patriotic feelings often cloud this plain fact, the “social contract” justification for revolutionary war espoused in the Declaration of Independence was seriously flawed. The bloodshed that followed from it was blood shed in a deplorably immoral way. Any thought of repeating this war must be vehemently rejected among Catholics as engaging in serious sin.

It is admittedly very difficult to acknowledge, but Barack Obama and the Democratic Congress (as well as the justices on the Supreme Court) have power because God has granted power to them. Not only should they not be challenged insofar as they have power, but (as Pope Leo explained) they should in fact be esteemed and honored: possessing a dignity and majesty that is not merely human, but comes from God. I pray all Catholics are reminded of these facts as anger over the deficit and healthcare “reform” bill mounts, and the revolutionary rhetoric continues to heat up. We are called to respect and honor those who rule over us, and to submit to them unless they command us to sin.

I am asking these questions because of the use of rights language being made in public discourse about health care. To be honest, I find the application of rights language in regard to health care troubling for several reasons, even though I am inclined to think that some kind of basic health care is legitimately thought of as a right.  If I sound conflicted — well, I am.

Here is the problem as I see it. In this country, rights language is enshrined in our foundational documents and serves a very specific purpose: to limit the power of the government.

From the Declaration of Independence:

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. — That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, — That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness.

The point of the mention of rights in this document was specifically to draw a line between what belonged to man as man, given him by his Creator and what belonged to man that was contingent upon some condition, including some form of government. The point of government, according to this, is to secure life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. This document gives the reason for the existence of our government, while the Constitution outlines the form that a government existing for that reason ought to take. Hence rights language, as it appears in the Constitution, is directed toward limiting the power of the state over the person, and the power of the federal government over the several states.

But the right of others also restrains persons and every right creates concomitant obligations. If others have the right to liberty, then I as a citizen am restrained from unduly restricting their liberty. I become obligated to tolerate actions by my fellow citizens that may displease me because while my fellow citizen has a right to liberty, I do not have a right not to be displeased. If, due to my displeasure, I attempt to restrict the liberty of my fellow citizen, the government acts to secure his right.

In a great many areas of life, this delicate equilibrium between rights and mutual obligations and the role of the state has been tested and retested. Freedom of speech, freedom of religion, right of trial by jury, right of redress — these are all areas in which there is a huge body of case law that spells out the what limits, if any, the state may place upon each right. Extrapolating from these rulings, one can locate one’s obligations as a citizen — we are all mutually obligated to tolerate many things that may not please us in order that our government function so as to secure the rights of all. In order for the government to function at all, of course, it has to have the authority to levy taxes and other authorities all based ultimately on a coercive power that is justifiable only, according to our founders, in order to secure our rights.

Things change though when the “rights” under consideration become, not merely what one has the power to do — such as speak freely, assemble with others, vote, worship as one sees fit — but become rights to have something, such as “affordable housing” or “affordable health care”. Do all people have a right to affordable housing? Does their right to affordable housing trump my right to set a rent price on my property that the market will bear? What if they cannot afford to pay enough to cover the expenses of my ownership of that property? Do all people have the right to affordable health care? Do we mean by that that everyone must have access to the same level of care regardless of ability to pay? What obligations will become incumbent upon us and what limitations on other rights will the rest of us incur once we accept this premise?

It seems apparent that rights language in such contexts — discussing what concrete goods one has a right to, as opposed merely to what one has a right to do — fundamentally alters the role that “rights” historically played in the political thought of our nation. Rather than limiting governmental power, this rights language greatly expands it and seems to change the motivation of the coercive power of the state.

Do we perhaps need some other language to talk about this other than the language of “rights”? And if so, what is it?