Quomodo Medicus nomine
Kevorkian Christi Natalem abrogaverit
Some days ago I received as a gift a little book which has made
a minor stir among Latin buffs. It is a translation from English
into Latin of Doctor Seuss’ famous children’s book, How the Grinch Stole Christmas. The problems of translating an English text full of made-up words
like “Grinch” into Latin were formidable, and the translators
do it in a most creative way. The title in Latin of Doctor Seuss’
classic becomes, Quomodo Invidiosulus nomine Grinchus Christi Natalem abrogaverit (How the envious little wretch named Grinch abolished the birthday
of Christ)
In 1998, what or who abolishes the birthday of Christ? Who tries
to steal Christmas now? One clear candidate, it seems to me, is
the now infamous Dr. Kevorkian of Michigan, the retired pathologist
who does away with sick people as if they were dogs or horses.
Dr. Kevorkian steals Christmas by treating life as a collection
of experiences rather than a gift. The Grinch tried to steal Christmas,
you may recall, by dressing up as Santa Claus and taking all the
presents under the trees and removing all the food for the feasts.
Then he discovered that Christmas was still observed, because
the presents and the good food were only signs of a deeper gift.
For us, of course, the great gift is Jesus, our Savior. He comes
to give us new life and to remind us that all life is a gift.
And that is what Dr. Kevorkian cannot understand or accept. For
him, life is a possession, not a gift. And since life is only
a possession, it can be disposed of when its owner so desires.
Extolling this view of life is how Dr. Kevorkian stole Christmas
(Quomodo Medicus nomine Kevorkian Christi Natalem abrogaverit
).
There are only two kinds of arguments for euthanasia. The first
is based on owning your life. Already in the last century, some
philosophers and novelists began to talk of suicide as the ultimate
act of self-control or self-possession. That is, of course, an
illusion, for death is the surrender of all control or possession;
and killing oneself is always an act of despair. It means a person
has given up all hope. The second kind of argument is based on
escaping from suffering. In actual fact, pain control is so far
advanced now that suffering can be alleviated in almost all cases.
The fear of suffering, however, creates a strong case for accepting
a “right to die”. Right or no right, we will all die. The basic
question, therefore, is always: since I must die, what is the
meaning of life?
Christmas tells us the meaning of life. As the people in Dr. Seuss’
book showed the Grinch, the meaning of Christmas doesn’t lie in
having a lot of presents or enjoying fine food, good though presents
and food might be. The meaning of Christmas, instead, lies in
being generous. In the eyes of faith, the meaning of life lies
in being generous with one another because God is generous with
us. At Christmas we discover again in Jesus that God is infinite
generosity; and in God’s generosity to us and our generosity to
one another, we discover again the meaning of life.
Suicide, assisted or not, is never really an act of generosity.
Self-sacrifice, by contrast, is always an act of generosity. Jesus
was born in order to save us from our sins, and he saved us by
accepting death, the consequence of sin, and conquered it once
and for all. He sacrificed himself for our salvation. The difference
between killing oneself and sacrificing oneself for others is
the difference between despair and hope, between fear and trust,
between indifference to the bonds that unite us and love that
moves us to give ourselves for others.
Sometimes at the very bottom of paintings of the angel telling
Mary that she is to be the Mother of the Savior, the artist paints
a small picture of Christ lying in the tomb. This shows us the
destiny of the child who begins to lie in Mary’s womb at the annunciation.
Such paintings remind us that life is a gift which has its own
cost. We accept it to share it, and in sharing it generously we
discover life’s meaning, although not without cost. God becomes
man so that each of us can be reborn from God. In that belief,
no one can steal Christmas. Our lives and their meaning are secure.
May this Christmas, the last before the opening of the great Jubilee
year, engrave deep in our hearts and conviction that life is a
gift. May it inspire greater generosity. And may the newlyborn
Savior, son of God and son of Mary, fill your lives with joy in
the year to come.
Sincerely yours in Christ,
Francis Cardinal George, O.M.I.
Archbishop of Chicago
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