Anyway, like so many things of this era, the language and emphases are not always right on target. But they’re playing the right game.

I started to launch into a monster explanation of why that is the case, but it occurred to me that maybe I should put this reflection into a separate post. So maybe you’ll get that later, if I finish it. :)

It’s icky in part because it cedes to “chance” what some of us would like to think is in “God’s” hands, but also because it seems to pass over a critical part of the whole process — the part that embraces the mysterious nature of the origin of life, and submits to whatever God has in store. As you point out, we cannot simply “call” children into existence at will; God Himself must decide to take a hand in this. Avoiding pregnancy through NFP is not inherently and directly a violation of the natural law, but it can destroy the appropriate spirit in which we should approach something so momentous, insofar as we start to view childbearing as a kind of precise science, to be manipulated for our own convenience.

Most of all, Weigel’s words are offensive because they imply that people who have not taken pains to learn about fertility are somehow not consciously or deliberately participating in procreation in a way that NFP users are. And that, of course, is ridiculous. Just because you weren’t conscious that this particular marital act was especially likely to lead to conception, doesn’t mean that you just left the whole business “to chance.” All normal adults understand the basic facts of human reproduction; if they conceive children in inappropriate ways (i.e. out of wedlock) we certainly don’t accept the excuse, “Well, it was just chance.”

What I so often come back to in these conversations is that there are two ways of improperly appreciating the mystery of procreation — one, by trying to make it into a direct and controllable science, and the other, by failing to enjoy and marvel over the fact that we ourselves do consciously and willingly participate in procreation. Children are conceived through a particular and deliberate act of their parents — one that we don’t need to engage in at all, and one that we are very well aware has as one possible consequence the begetting of new life. A person who told himself, “I must not try to beget children, because that is God’s prerogative and not mine. Therefore, I will engage in marital relations only when physical desire compels me, or as a way of fostering intimacy with my spouse, but not specially in hopes of begetting a child,” would not have understood properly. It is the right and privilege of a married person to “try” to beget new life; this is one of the great honors that has been granted him in assuming the married state. He must be mindful, certainly, that his efforts are only one part of the equation, and yet they are an important and necessary part of the equation, and that’s part of the mystery too.

It seems clear to me that some level of rational deliberation must always have been exercised by married couples with respect to family size, whether that’s, “I don’t feel ready for another pregnancy right away, so perhaps I’d better keep nursing,” or, “it’d be hard for her to have a baby while I’m away at sea — perhaps I’d best sleep on the floor until I leave so I don’t get tempted,” or “one more glass of wine and he’ll be in a mood to try for a son!” or “I’ve heard that these herbs might increase my chances of conceiving.” When I was in the Peace Corps in Uzbekistan, I heard all manner of theories about what would make people more fertile or less, or increase the chances of having a son or a daughter — I’m convinced that all societies have had this sort of thing to one degree or another. Of course, a good percentage of the Uzbek ones were just silly superstitions, whereas we have much better information, and together with more effective methods come more pressing moral questions, and a need for more nuanced treatment of them. Sometimes we may yearn for simpler, more ignorant times, not totally unreasonably, but I guess my feeling is just that that cat’s *way* out of the bag by now… so it’s good that we have writers like Hildebrandt and, yes, JPII, to help us work through the questions, and approach marriage in the right spirit.

By the way, how many people suffering under true grave circumstances are going to be thinking about sex, never mind even NFP? For instance, you’ve found yourself caught in the middle of genocidal civil war; of course everyone’s first thought is to break out the thermometer and the NFP charts.

At any rate, I was intrigued when I came across that passage in Weigel - I find such language rather alarming. Catechesis on marriage and family is a beautiful thing, but when we start bowing to pressures to regulate the birth of our children - and the only reason given is so that their births be not left to chance - that creeps me out.

In any case, Clara, we all know that NFP can only be used for grave reasons, and so attempts to instill NFP into the marriages of all Catholics is, at the least, misguided, though if it is never misused, what a great thing!

How about a reflection on HE Bishop Tissier de Mallerais’ interview with Angelus?

My favorite part was -

Q: Which books do you think are most essential for the faithful in these days?

Tissier de Mallerais: For all, their missal (Mass book) and their catechism. For young men, books on the social kingship of Christ. For young ladies, books on cooking, sewing and how to furnish a home.

I was surprised not to see a response from the Cornell Society’s Ladies Auxiliary on the WDTPRS blog about what I’m sure a modernist would call the good bishop’s “misogyny.”

I know we’ve been through this a thousand times, but playing with fertility is an old, old game; now that our power in this regard is increased, careful theological treatment of it — as well as useful teaching aids to explain Church teaching — were very necessary. Let’s not spoil the happy occasion by fixating on the misplaced enthusiasms of a few!