by Gabrielle Tremblay

A wise Jesuit priest, Fr. Larry Gillick, S.J., once told me that “a good education coaches a person to listen, reflect, and respond to invitations.” Only three months into my first year of law school, I have already encountered numerous invitations at the University of St. Thomas – lunchtime presentations inviting me to reflect on my future goals as an attorney, professors inviting my class and I to a moment of peace in prayer or reflection at the beginning of class, or peers inviting me to learn more about them in conversation. This reflection is about a more large-scale invitation that I received at St. Thomas – the invitation to pursue a Law and Catholic Studies Joint Degree (JD/MA).

Growing up in a small town in northwest Wisconsin, I did not have a Catholic education until my undergraduate career at Creighton University (Omaha, Nebraska). I majored in philosophy and history, and pursued research on Catholic theology, feminism, and domestic violence. I fell in love with the humanities and even more with research. At the same time, these opportunities invited me to reflect on the value of justice – a value that played a large part in my decision to attend law school and still motivates me as I study law.

As an undergraduate, I also felt at home in Creighton’s community. I first accepted the offer to attend law school at St. Thomas because it was clear during my visit that its kind and welcoming community resembled the community at Creighton. It was only after deciding to attend St. Thomas law that I discovered the JD/MA program. This would be the perfect opportunity to combine both my desire to become a lawyer and my passion for the humanities and research.

The Master of Arts in Catholic Studies involves both a deep dive into all humanities’ disciplines and research. It takes a holistic approach to teaching the Catholic tradition by offering classes in Catholic literature, culture, theology, philosophy, and more. Not only will these classes fill my desire to continue studying humanities, but the required master’s thesis will also satisfy my intellectual curiosity which I explored through research in my undergraduate studies.

The Catholic Studies course offerings and independent thesis invites students to think critically about values which is essential for the next generation of lawyers. During law school orientation at St. Thomas, each first-year law student is required to take a class called Moral Reasoning for Lawyers. There we discuss the trend of law students often becoming morally indifferent through a traditional legal education. Students spend three years reading cases but never meeting the real people behind them. Discussions of values are rarely introduced in class. Students feel that the law is whatever the judge decides rather than reflecting any higher moral or ethical values. To assuage these tendencies, St. Thomas law has several offerings like the Moral Reasonings for Lawyers class. Another of these offerings is the JD/MA joint degree, and I am so grateful to supplement my legal education with a master’s degree that invites critical thinking about values.

Of course, I am frequently asked, “what are you going to do with a Master’s in Catholic Studies?” This question implies I come up with “practical” use for my joint degree. For many students, the Master’s degree in Catholic Studies opens opportunities serve their communities through ministry. Although this is likely not the case for me, this is not a concern for me because I believe education does not always require a “practical” use to be worthwhile. Too often education as merely a tool for intellectual and spiritual development is deemed “impractical” as if that were a bad thing. For me, the opportunity to continue what I began at Creighton through humanities studies and research is a good in itself.

Not only do I enjoy the critical thinking about topics in the humanities, but my reflections on values of justice, fairness, and equality, were a large part of my motivation to attend law school. The times that I lose sight of this purpose are the times that my motivation to study law tends to decrease. I think it is essential for the next generation of lawyers to critically think about values because we are entering a profession that enforces laws that ought to reflect society’s values, and in turn applies those laws in ways that affect real people’s lives and aspirations. Opportunities like the JD/MA are vital for us to learn how to “listen, reflect, and respond to invitations” that this world will present us when we enter the law profession, whether that be an invitation to mentor a younger lawyer or to take a difficult pro bono case. All in all, if you’re like me, and you want to be a lawyer while pursuing intellectual and spiritual growth through the humanities and Catholic tradition, this is my invitation to you to consider the Juris Doctor – Masters in Catholic Studies at the University of St. Thomas.

Gabrielle Tremblay is a Murphy Scholar and 1L at the University of St. Thomas School of Law in the JD/CSMA program.

“Student Perspective” is a recurring blog series which highlights the various activities of the Murphy Scholar graduate students during their fellowship.

by Paul Befort

Each year, the Murphy Scholars participate in a program series focused around a theme which delves into the philosophical and theological foundations of law and policy matters.  I was fascinated by the vision of this year’s series since, as a former seminarian and a Master in Catholic Studies aspirant, I consider myself to have scratched the surface of the beauty and truth present in the Catholic faith. But this year revealed a fantastic depth to what I thought was an old topic: natural law.

The world has its own way of doing things. Unfortunately, this way of doing things is no longer closely connected with natural law. Why is this a problem? Isn’t natural law just an antiquated medieval mode of thought that is somewhat outdated in terms of solely shaping an appropriate worldview? I thought it was losing relevance until I heard three St. Thomas professors; Fr. Austin Litke, O.P., Dr. William Stevenson, and Msgr. Martin Schlag present on the subject throughout the semester.

Natural law, when referenced today, largely comes from the teachings of Saint Thomas Aquinas in his Summa Theologica, Prima Secunda Pars, question 91. Natural law is God’s eternal law. God is the eternal law. We are all designed to participate in the natural law by our participation in the life of God. Natural law is therefore imprinted on our hearts, integral to each of us. Natural law is our guide to what it means to live our humanity to the fullest. The more we follow natural law, the more we participate in the eternal law Who is our ultimate end. The more in accord with natural law we are, the more human we are because we are living in accord with the design that God intended.

In Romans 2:15: Saint Paul talks about the law inscribed upon our hearts. At times our feelings might be at odds with this law, but the transcription of the law into our hearts is not on an emotional level, flawed by original sin, but rather on an intellectual level. Right reason will lead us to closer union with God. Our reason knows what is better for us than our feelings. We know, intellectually, that excess and comforts do not allow us to flourish in the long term. But our physical appetites are insatiable when not governed by reason. Our participation in the natural law is how we are the happiest long term.

Since under the natural law all is a gift from God, through a natural law lens, life is about growing in personal virtue to more fully participate in the life of God who has given us everything. A Christian’s civic life flows from a sense of grateful duty, therefore.

Straying from the natural law has caused problems. I was most affected by how the modern view of education is at odds with the natural law’s view of education. In medieval times education was focused on growing in personal virtue; mentor-to-mentee relationships were typically how this came about. Teacher-and-pupil relationships could become truly human relationships of discipleship. Today, now that civic life is no longer about personal virtue and trying to make a return to the Lord, education and relationships of all kinds often become fake and contrived. Teacher-student relationships are often limited to a sixteen-week term. Networking too is not about real encounters with another person, but about what can be gained from the other. Volunteering is not about making a return to the Lord, but about padding a resume. The focus has moved away from God and the Eternal Law, becoming more about economic advantage.

Social justice is a modern concept on how we can make a better society without God. It borrows from the natural law and our Christian past to deduce that humans have dignity. But it uses a distorted reference point. Social justice focuses on rights that are inherent to human beings for who they are (rather than because of who God is), and this dictates a legal and educational system that attempts to cultivate a virtuous society from the top down. Instead of personal virtue, which then flows out to change society on the individual level, social justice contends that human beings can be perfected of things like racism, etcetera, when institutions are perfected. Of course, legislating morality rarely works. Success in modern society, when not flowing from an interior place of virtue or a response to the Goodness we have received, currently involves using others to pad one’s resume.

Natural law sets us free from social contrivances for organic relationship with the Eternal Law. Everything else flows from there. It is a law that does not constrain us but allows us to have freedom for what we are created to be: truly human through a relational participation in the Eternal Law.

Paul Befort is a Murphy Scholar and 1L at the University of St. Thomas School of Law in the JD/CSMA program.

“Student Perspective” is a recurring blog series which highlights the various activities of the Murphy Scholar graduate students during their fellowship.

By Caleb Callanan

Each year the University of Notre Dame’s de Nicola Center for Ethics and Culture’s fall conference is the meeting place of world class Catholic thinkers, philosophers, and academics as they come together to address the most pressing issues of our time from an interdisciplinary perspective. While I may not be a world class Catholic thinker, philosopher, nor academic, I was fascinated by the theme of this year’s conference “’And It Was Very Good’: On Creation”. My interest in topics like the Imago Dei, natural law, and human dignity and their interwovenness with both the law and Catholic social teaching is precisely why I was excited to join the Terrence J. Murphy Institute as a Murphy Scholar; so, the opportunity to explore these important topics with some of the best and brightest from around the world was a great honor.

I was blessed to be able to join seminarians from Saint John Vianney College Seminary, Catholic Studies majors from the University of Saint Thomas, and others from the Murphy Institute as we travelled to Indiana for the conference. Naturally, with a group like this the thought provoking and presupposition challenging conversations began well before we even stepped foot on Notre Dame’s campus. Our group was fortunate enough to stay in the campus’ parish center for our visit and the walk to the conference center each morning took us past the Grotto of Our Lady of Lourdes. This shrine to Our Blessed Mother, located in the center of a prestigious university, served as a beautiful reminder that our Catholic faith is synonymous with the pursuit of knowledge.

As I have Thomas Aquinas for my confirmation name, attended the University of Saint Thomas for my undergraduate degree, and am now continuing my studies at the University’s School of Law, I have grown quite familiar with the Prayer of St. Thomas Aquinas and I saw every word of it in action through the professors, speakers, and other attendees I had the pleasure of conversing with at the conference.

Grant, o merciful God, that I may ardently desire, prudently examine, truthfully acknowledge, and perfectly accomplish what is pleasing to Thee for the praise and glory of Thy name. Amen

This prayer served as a guide as my fellow conference goers and I attended lectures and presentations from leaders in a diverse array of fields. From classical art and music experts to astrophysicists, biologists, theologians, and monks; the presenters at the conference covered topics ranging from bioethics and mathematics in creation to craft beer brewing as an act of co-creation. The common thread joining these myriad topics was that they all pointed to the divine in us, the “in His image” that we all share which is the source of human dignity. This was an idea I had hoped to explore at the conference and was especially pleased to see this recognition of one another as children of God wasn’t lost, as it so often is, when the conversation turned to politics and law.

It felt like a respite from our modern political climate to witness and participate in conversations and debates on the most contentious of issues where these topics served not as the flashpoints of rage that they typically function as, but rather as means of deepening our own and each other’s understanding of the fundamental questions of the day and working together to propose better laws and solutions. The cooperative nature of these debates stemmed from all who were involved desiring to defend human dignity, despite the stark differences of opinion on how to best achieve this. It was through observing this that I saw firsthand how the best parts of our laws and legal system are those that (perhaps even unintentionally) follow Catholic social teaching on human dignity and natural law.

Hearing ethicists, scientists and theologians discuss the development of technologies and sciences that are giving rise to increasingly sophisticated forms of artificial intelligence, neural organoids and lab made chimeras made it clear to me that technology, society, and the law are on a collision course. For this reason, we need now, more than ever, to look to and bolster the best parts of our legal system and laws; those that celebrate the image of God in each of us, protect human dignity, and advance the Common Good. This will be a challenge, but after hearing from but a few of the many brilliant attendees at the conference, I am confident that with the Grace of God, it is a challenge we are well prepared for.

I am grateful to the Terrence J. Murphy institute for making my attendance possible and look forward to applying all that I learned as I continue my legal education.

Caleb Callanan is a Murphy Scholar and 1L at the University of St. Thomas School of Law.

“Student Perspective” is a recurring blog series which highlights the various activities of the Murphy Scholar graduate students during their fellowship.

5 of 5 in series by Sarah Moon

In a more obscure novel, Death Comes for the Archbishop, renowned American novelist and Pulitzer Prize winner, Willa Cather, tells the tale of historical figures Jean-Baptiste Lamy and Joseph Machebeuf. These figures were missionaries in the New Mexico Territory in the late 1800s. Bishop Latour, the fictionalized name of Jean-Baptiste Lamy, travels through the territory ministering to all he encounters, whatever their circumstances. The novel spans his entire career and ends with his death. One passage captivated my heart and mind upon first and subsequent readings of the novel:

During those last weeks of the bishop’s life, he thought very little about death; it was the Past he was leaving. The future would take care of itself. But he had an intellectual curiosity about dying; about the changes that took place in a man’s beliefs and scale of values. More and more life seemed to him an experience of the Ego, in no sense the Ego itself. This conviction, he believed, was something apart from his religious life; it was an enlightenment that came to him as a man, a human creature. And he noticed that he judged conduct differently now; his own and that of others. The mistakes of his life seemed unimportant.[1]

Throughout this blog series, I have tried to keep readers in a contemplative mindset as they approach the physician-assisted suicide/Medical Aid in Dying (MAID) debate. To allow Cather’s words to soak in, read that passage one more time.

“The future would take care of itself.” Bishop Latour is a man who knew his identity as a beloved son of God. A son that would meet his Father once he died. So, he fixed his gaze on life and creation. Through this contemplation, the bishop was able to have more mercy for others and grew in empathy as he suffered.

Death is the moment our souls meet the Lord; whereas dying is the experience one has in the moments leading up to death.[2] These moments could be mere seconds to what seems to be excruciatingly long days.

The healthcare industry throws endless options for hospice, pain relief, and mode of death. The shortcoming with all of these options is that they all revolve around bodily suffering and healing. The healthcare industry has greatly neglected the need for spiritual healing while dying. This isn’t to say it isn’t ever mentioned, but rather the spiritual needs seem to be the last thing mentioned. The item in a list that is just placed there to make the list seem long and comprehensive.

But why such a disconnect with the meaning of death and how to best prepare for it? The Catechism of the Catholic Church is explicitly clear when it says, “The Christian meaning of death is revealed in the light of the Paschal mystery of the death and resurrection of Christ whom resides our only hope”.[3] The short answer is if palliative care specialists and policymakers do not start with an understanding of Christ’s passion, it is difficult if not near impossible to make any substantive headway in palliative care improvements.

There is a medieval Christian text called Ars moriendi (Latin for “The Art of Dying”) that was given out during bubonic plague outbreaks to help people prepare for death if priests were in short supply.[4] This text had nothing to do with medicine or pain relief in the way Americans would understand it, but rather it was focused on preparing the soul for the moment of death—the moment a soul meets the Lord. What if, in today’s world, we took a page out of the Ars moriendi and flipped the list to start with the spiritual needs of the dying rather than the bodily needs? What if the first call for someone in their last hours in the hospital was to a priest for Confession instead of more morphine? What if the nourishment of the soul was prioritized over the nourishment of the body? To shift palliative care to prioritize the soul’s preparation for death and then address the body’s needs requires a major cultural shift in how society views our own bodies, and it isn’t going to come from political speeches or doctor’s orders. Now, I’m not suggesting we neglect physical needs, but rather I am suggesting that we reframe our first principles so that our second principles are ordered and appropriate in caring for the dying. It is going to come from the conversion of individual hearts. It is going to come from experiencing the dying of others and preparing yourself for your own death. I see three realities come to life during the intimate and tender last moments of someone’s life– the spiritual battle that occurs while dying, the encounter of grace during those final moments, and the communal nature of the dying process.

Spiritual Battle

St. Augustine laments in his Confessions, “Thou hast made us for thyself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it finds its rest in thee.”[5] Augustine understood that this earthly life was a steppingstone rather than a final home. This is an important ordering needed to fully embrace the questions surrounding dying. If a person understands the telos (Greek for “end”) of their life in this manner, they can better see the purpose of suffering and the process of dying. They will also have clarity on the spiritual attacks to expect in these final moments. If death is the moment the soul meets the Lord, then it is a realistic assumption that the Devil would be present, making a last-ditch effort, to steal souls.[6]

Encounter of Grace

With any battle, there must be opposing forces. With a spiritual battle, there is the Devil and there is God fighting for your soul. The act of dying it’s not simply reduced to a desolate war zone but also a place to encounter God’s grace. An encounter of grace is the intervention of God in this world. There are moments of grace throughout most novels, but I would argue that they are most obviously present around times of death. If dying is the Devil’s last-ditch effort, it is also God’s. It’s an opportunity for people to have their hearts converted. The thing about encounters of grace is that one must accept the invitation of grace. God will never force himself upon people, and if there is much suffering and pain present in the dying person, these encounters of grace can be easily missed or ignored.

Communal Nature

This brings me to my final reality of dying which is that it is a communal event. Life on earth is communal, so why wouldn’t the final moments of said life, the moments of dying, be communal? Humans learn from each other and being with dying people helps others learn about the experience they will face someday. Albeit the details of their death may vary, the preparations for the soul to meet the Lord should be similar. However, humans only learn how to prepare for death by experiencing it in some tangible way. Do we see and encounter dying people though? More and more Americans are dying in hospice care or the hospital with doctors and nurses around instead of family. As affluence increases so does the amount of elderly in care facilities. Many of today’s elderly are not being taken care of by their families in the home with their children and grandchildren. I assume good will with this decision. Most people do wish to take care of their parents and the elderly. There are circumstances where external and specialized care like hospice is necessary. However, the decision to outsource care has become the rule instead of the exception. One of the unintended consequences of this is that less people are seeing the dying process. They are not taking part in this intimate moment in a person’s life.

Death is not something to fear, but rather it is something to embrace by preparing properly. For Christians, this means putting on our armor as we enter our final spiritual battle right before we meet our Lord because death is not the end—rather the beginning. Scott Hahn explains it well when he says, “The mortality rate for each of us is 100 percent, the immortality rate for each of us is also 100 percent.”[7] This ordering and understanding of life and death is a major blind spot in palliative care along with many Americans facing death today. Too many people see death as an end. And to see it as an end makes it easy to miss the realities of dying. It is easy to not gear up for the spiritual battle of your soul. It is easy to miss God’s grace being offered. And it is easy to isolate oneself, to not burden others, in one’s suffering cutting off the reality that dying is a communal event. We must reorder how we approach death and dying to help us see the disorder that is present in the growing physician-assisted suicide/Medical Aid in Dying practice.

In previous articles, I have proposed ways to oppose physician-assisted suicide at a macro level through policy, but that leaves the micro level untouched. This is where the Church and its members can be of help. With a long history in healthcare, the Catholic Church is losing grounding in that sector, but the Church’s presence there is needed now more than ever. Hospital chaplains and prayer groups for the dying are of utmost priority if our society is ever going to reorder the dying experience. In the Twin Cities, there is an apostolate called Curatio, that consists of a group of Catholic physicians that pray for each other’s patients.

People outside the healthcare field play a role in converting hearts as well. At the end of each Sunday Mass at my parish, the whole congregation prays a Hail Mary for the next parishioner that will pass away. Through this continual practice, I have found myself more aware of the realities of dying. This is a way we, as a parish community, can partake in the communal aspect of dying by preparing said person for their final spiritual battle. At the hour of their death, Mother Mary will be with them, praying without ceasing.

In our own homes and families, I suggest having conversations about death and dying. Talk with your parents or children about taking care of older generations. For children of aging parents, if the conversation slips into desolation by your parents mentioning how they may be a burden on you, stop them right there. Affirm their unconditional human dignity. Then continue with the conversation by asking questions about why they think that. The culture has subtly conditioned people to think of themselves, especially in healthcare, as a very expensive bill. This hasn’t stripped someone of their dignity, but it sure has made it cloudy to see the truth. Have conversations about how you can help in those final years, months, or days of your parents’ lives. And finally, prayerfully consider the option of intergenerational living. Invite them into your home, if possible, to allow them to die in a community surrounded by their loved ones.

For parents, be honest about your desires and concerns with dying. To promote a culture of life instead of culture of death, Christians must talk about these issues and fears surrounding dying. Set expectations of being cared for by your children at a young age, so that it becomes normalized. If you have the opportunity, be an example to your children by opening your own home. Americans value freedom and the ability to do whatever they want without interfering in others’ lives a great deal, and it is going to take a major cultural shift to unravel that ideology. But we must start somewhere. Prayer and conversations with loved ones is the place to start.

[1] Cather, Willa. Death Comes For the Archbishop. Pg. 287-288. Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., 1927.

[2] Augustine, Saint, and Marcus Dods. The City of God. New York: Modern Library, 1950. Print.

[3] Catholic Church. Catechism of the Catholic Church. 2nd ed. Vatican: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 2012. Print.

[4] Thomas, Columbia. “Improving Spiritual Care at the End of Life by Reclaiming the Ars Moriendi.” The National Catholic Bioethics Quarterly, vol. 20, no. 4, 2020, pp. 647–862.

[5] Augustine, Saint, and Maria Boulding. The Confessions. Vintage Books, 1998.

[6] Thomas, Ibid. 733

[7] Hahn, Scott, and Emily Stimpson Chapman. Hope to Die: the Christian Meaning of Death and the Resurrection of the Body. Emmaus Road Publishing, 2020.

Sarah Moon, MPH studied public health administration and policy at the University of Minnesota and currently is studying Catholic Studies at the University of St. Thomas. She works as a middle school science and math teacher at a classical Catholic school in the Twin Cities area.

4 of 5 in series by Sarah Moon

For the past few years, the Minnesota House of Representatives has attempted to introduce the End-of-Life Option Act HF 1358 and SF 1352 which proposes an option for physician-assisted suicide or, as the bill refers to it, Medical Aid in Dying (MAID). Year after year, the bill has been sidelined for numerous reasons, but mainly for the lack of bipartisan support. This is a heavily Democratic party bill for the state. However, support has steadily increased each year. I wonder how support will look for the 2022 legislative session with the sobering reality of a pandemic that left many severely ill and hospitalized with long lasting symptoms and pain.

In this series, Euthanasia in America, readers have had the chance to think about their stance and what they believe to be true of dignity, freedom, and suffering. (If you haven’t read those articles, I strongly encourage you to start at the beginning before diving into the bill itself).

Now it is time to put those foundational beliefs into action. To start, I pose three questions for the reader:

1. What is human dignity and where does it come from?
2. While dying, how should freedom be offered to and expressed by patients?
3. What role does suffering play in the world if any?

These are all things to keep in mind when making a prudential judgment about Minnesota’s End-of-Life bill.  With these in mind, let us look at some specifics of the bill which I will offer my own analysis of as a public health professional.

Bill Overview

Before I provide my own analysis of the bill, it seems reasonable to introduce the bill with some of its core concepts and key changes to Minnesota’s bill which are absent in the ten other states with MAID acts. At the core of this bill is the desire to give control and autonomy to terminally ill patients while making medical decisions and to alleviate some level of suffering.

There is a long section at the beginning of the bill with a few key terms that are defined by the authors in which I find important to highlight. The first is who qualifies for MAID. It is proposed that anyone over 18 years of age who has not been coerced, has a prognosis of six months or less to live, and is deemed mentally capable can request life-ending medication. People must understand who the population is that will be directly affected by this bill. The second distinction I want to highlight is the term informed decision. “Informed decision means a decision by a qualified individual to request and obtain a prescription for medication pursuant to this section that the qualified individual may self-administer to bring about a peaceful death, after being fully informed by the attending provider and consulting provider of… [their state of health and various options].”[1] My eye was drawn to the word peaceful. Upon further reading, there was no clarification as to what a peaceful death or peace meant in this context.

The Good

Starting off with what I appreciated about the proposed law is a good exercise in humility. In Subdivision 5 Paragraph C, all MAID requests must be submitted in writing by the requesting individual and an advanced health care directive will not suffice. This will help ensure that this is the patient’s wish. In that same section, it states that, “the consulting health care provider shall offer the individual an opportunity to rescind the request.” This gives patients a clear out to their decision to accept life-ending medication.

On the provider side, there is a safeguard for physicians who do not wish to participate in MAID. In Subdivision 11 Paragraph C, a provider has a choice in participation, and if he or she declines, they may transfer the patient to another provider. Informed consent and conscientious objection are essential to any medical policy, but they aren’t the highest of virtues when making medical decisions.

The Bad

There are many areas of this bill that are vague and contradictory to current laws in Minnesota and since hearings haven’t started for the 2022 session, I don’t know how lawmakers would answer my (and many others’) objections. First off, the way the author defines terminal disease gives me pause. It is stated that a terminal disease means “an incurable and irreversible disease that has been medically confirmed and will, within reasonable medical judgment, produce death within six months”.  The words incurable and irreversible leave no room for human error. The language is so definite and ignores the fact that “medical mysteries” or miracles do happen.

A few things in Minnesota’s bill are different than the previous MAID bills in other states. The bill’s main author, Representative Mike Freiberg, spoke to the University of Minnesota Center for Bioethics this past January about some of these changes.[2] He noted that he intentionally included a wider net of providers who could authorize life-ending medications. Nurse practitioners are included in this new bill but have not been in the past. The other changes he made were that no witness signature was needed to confirm that the patient orally requested medical aid in dying and that there was no waiting period between the requests of a terminally ill patient. In other states, patients must wait up to 14 days to make their second request. In Minnesota, however, that waiting period has been diminished because it can be seen as a barrier to this option.

Finally, Section 7 has to do with death certificates. These six paragraphs are the most revealing about the whole issue. In these paragraphs, it is stated that death certificates will not include that life-ending medication was administered, that the cause of death will be listed as the underlying terminal disease, and that the death will not be designated as a suicide or homicide. What is revealed in this language almost seems like shame. If this is an acceptable and honored way of dying, why wouldn’t it be ok to mention it on one’s death certificate? To make no mention of MAID on a death certificate is both inaccurate and misleading. Inaccurate because the primary cause of death were the life-ending medications. The underlying condition could be a secondary cause of death that attributed to one’s decision to end their life, but I don’t believe it should be considered the primary cause of death. This choice by the authors can also lead to misleading statistics. For example, when researchers look at cancer mortality rates, they may analyze death certificates and the primary cause of death. There would be an overstated amount of cancer deaths in a state with MAID laws because the coroner cannot accurately code the cause of death. If MAID is a good thing for Minnesotans, I believe that the state, physicians, and patients shouldn’t be afraid to admit it on death certificates.

The Confusing

Lastly, the confusing parts of this proposed bill. There are many parts that use broad, vague language when referring to what it means to be mentally capable or, terminally ill.  So too, even the conscientious objection section needs some work on bulking up protections for those providers who refuse to participate.

My main concern is found in Section 3 Paragraph 1 in which the authors write, “no person or health care facility shall be subject to civil or criminal liability or professional disciplinary action, including censure, suspension, loss of license, loss of privileges, loss of membership, or any other penalty for engaging in good faith compliance with sections 145.871 and 145.872.” Essentially this is saying there’s no penalty to providing information about killing oneself and/or knowingly prescribing lethal drugs. This is contradictory to Minnesota’s homicide statutes though. In Section 609.215 of MN Statutes, it is written that, “whoever intentionally advises, encourages, or assists another in taking the other’s own life may be sentenced to imprisonment for not more than 15 years or to payment of a fine of not more than $30,000, or both.”[3] The only exceptions to law are found below and there are two about health care providers. The first exception is about administering drugs to alleviate pain and the unintended consequence is death. This would not include the administering of drugs designed to kill someone. This is all confusing because it seems to be that before HF 1358 can be enacted, the Minnesota homicide statutes would need to be modified as well.

Next Steps

There is much to digest in this proposed law. Ultimately, I believe, at its core, it is a poorly written and immoral law. If you come to a similar conclusion, there are ways to stay connected and to get involved. I recommend following the MN Alliance for Ethical Healthcare’s website and email updates about this law throughout the year and reading their publications and patient stories. Write to your legislators! This cannot be overstated. There are online templates for emails to oppose this bill, but one mustn’t stop there. Write a handwritten letter stating your opposition to this bill as well. Find out when you can visit the capitol building to meet with your lawmakers.

There is more to dying than having autonomy and control. There’s beauty, grace, and hope. Come back next week to see how dying can be just that.

[1] Revisor.mn.gov. “H.R.1358 – 92nd Legislature (2021): End-Of-Life Option.” February 22, 2021. https://www.revisor.mn.gov/bills/text.php?number=HF1358&type=bill&version=0&session=ls92&session_year=2021&session_number=0.

[2] Mike Freiberg, “The Minnesota End-of-Life Option Act: Medical Aid in Dying is a Compassionate Option for Terminally Ill Patients,” UMN Center for Bioethics, January 28, 2022. https://bioethics.umn.edu/events/minnesota-end-life-option-act-medical-aid-dying-compassionate-option-terminally-ill-patients.

[3] Revisor.mn.gov. “609.215 Suicide – Minnesota Statutes (2021).” https://www.revisor.mn.gov/statutes/cite/609.215.

Sarah Moon, MPH studied public health administration and policy at the University of Minnesota and currently is studying Catholic Studies at the University of St. Thomas. She works as a middle school science and math teacher at a classical Catholic school in the Twin Cities area.

3 of 5 in series by Sarah Moon

And I a worn out bone-bag hung with flesh.

Death would be blessing if it spared the glad

But heeded invocations from the wretch.

But now Death’s ears are deaf to hopeless cries,

His hands refuse to close poor weeping eyes.[1]

In the opening passage of Consolation of Philosophy, Boethius is lamenting in his jail cell after being wrongly convicted for treason. He has been stripped of his power and influence and knows he will die in jail. These few stanzas speak to a grief to which few of us can fully relate. However, I believe these lamentations could be echoed by many people who are contemplating euthanasia. People nearing death may experience physical pain, emotional distress, grief, and fear while dying, but might they also experience love from others and God and hope for eternal life with God? Indeed, euthanasia cannot be discussed without including the role of suffering in one’s life. This is the third primary conversation, along with human dignity and freedom, that must be parsed out in each one of our hearts and then between individuals.

In my experience in the public health field, I have found that many of my colleagues talked about an idea of needless suffering. “Needless” meaning “avoidable” in this case. I tried to get on board with the mass extinction of suffering in the world through public health measures, but I was exhausted. Burnt out from trying to care about every injustice and cause of suffering in the world, I became apathetic to it all. I lost my hope for a utopia on earth where everyone lived in peace and harmony. It wasn’t until the midway through my graduate studies where my clouded idea of our Earthly life was made clear through God’s grace and mercy. He broke through my heart of stone and replaced it with a heart of flesh which brought me back to my Catholic faith. At that time in my life, I had been working to create the Garden of Eden again. In this, I rejected the reality of the Fall, sin entering the world, and Jesus’s redemptive suffering on the cross for all of humanity.

Adam and Eve were never supposed to die, but death is a consequence of their fall from grace.[2] Even Jesus, who is fully God and man, wasn’t free from suffering. But his suffering was redemptive. He redeemed our death to be more united with us in heaven.10 As our country continues to lose its Christian identity, we continue to lose meaning to our existence and suffering. Without God, there isn’t a good reason for suffering. If He is not the end goal, if Heaven is not the end goal, then disposal of our biological bodies becomes open for debate.

This blog isn’t all doom and gloom. I believe that our society is capable of talking about suffering. Albeit a difficult and vulnerable conversation, it is one that can bear bountiful fruit between people who externally couldn’t seem more different. Why? Because suffering is a human experience. It doesn’t discriminate based on gender, age, socio-economic status, or geographic location. Suffering may look different, and there are plenty of instances of people downplaying others’ pain because it “could be worse.” Once people can strip away initial judgments of suffering, a beautiful conversation on the role of it can be had by all. It is a conversation that must be had before any talks of end-of-life care can take place.

[1] Boethius, and V. E. Watts. The Consolation of Philosophy; Translated with an Introduction by V.E. Watts. Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1969. 3.1.1

[2] Catechism of the Catholic Church. Vatican City: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 2019. N. 1008-1009

Sarah Moon, MPH studied public health administration and policy at the University of Minnesota and currently is studying Catholic Studies at the University of St. Thomas. She works as a middle school science and math teacher at a classical Catholic school in the Twin Cities area.