I’ve seen that phrase bandied about and, IIRC, attributed to Napoleon. Whether I’m remembering that attribution correctly or not, it predates Napoleon by about 700 years. It comes from the Decretum Gratiani, a foundational source of Roman Catholic canon law. Its meaning is to allow for exigent circumstances. In the immediate context in the Decretum, specifically for the celebration of the mass.
After having stated that the sacrifice must be offered on the altar or in a consecrated place, Gratiani adds, “It is preferable not to sing or listen to the mass than to celebrate it in places where it should not be celebrated, unless it happens because of a supreme necessity, for necessity has no law “ (nisi pro summa necessitate contingent, quintal necessitas legal non habet). More than rendering the illicit licit, necessity acts here to justify a single, specific case of transgression by means of an exception.Giorgio Agamben, State of Exception, tr. Kevin Attell, The University of Chicago Press, 2005, p. 24.
I would liken this to my days as a student pastor, in seminary. I was authorized to perform the sacraments (only two for us Protestants) at my church building, but not anywhere else. (Our joke was that the Holy Spirit left us when we left the church grounds, and only re-entered when we crossed the property line again.) But that didn’t stop me from taking communion (one of the two) to people who couldn’t get to church. Necessitas legem non habet.
Which is a far cry from saying necessity is the mother of dictatorship; or even of “states of exception” (what Anglo-Saxon jurisprudence calls “martial law.”)
But such, as someone observed (I want to say Lewis Carroll?) is human perversity.
N.B. I keep doing this for the comments. Well, that and I’m an opinionated asshole. But the comments are the better part.
The final project for my Intro to Pastoral Care class this past semester, was to describe a time you provided pastoral care or an anticipated incident of proving care. Each of us gave a presentation as part of the project. One of my classmates was a volunteer with the chaplain group at a hospital, and was during her shift was called in for a woman who had a still birth. (My classmates had a range of experience, some leading churches already, others in chaplain roles, and others with no experience at all) The mother had come to the hospital, over 8 months pregnant, when she couldn't feel her baby moving. The hospital determined the baby had died, and induced the mother to deliver. My classmate arrived after the birth and found the woman with her baby. The mother asked my classmate if she would baptize the baby. My classmate called her own pastor to ask for guidance (I don't know the denomination). She was told that in their denomination they don't baptize still births, but they may in others, and was left with the impression it would be ok to do if that is what the mother requested. The mother had no set denomination and didn't attend a particular church. The hospital is Catholic, and my classmate knew the next shift would be staffed by a Catholic priest. She worried that baptism is not allowed for a stillbirth in the Catholic tradition, so she arranged to perform the rite before the end of her shift.
ReplyDeleteTo a person, the class was supportive of my classmates decision, this group of students from a wide variety of denominations or none at all. Was she ordained? Was it denominationally appropriate? What are these theological questions in the face of a grieving mother? Later, my classmate spoke to the priest about what she had done. He quietly said, that if the mother had requested baptism, he would have performed the rite. Necessity.