Religion: THE ANGUISH OF TWO DISSENTERS

• Share

FRED N., 35, is a regional-sales representative in California. He was educated at Roman Catholic schools from first grade through college. He and his wife Cathy, 31, are regular worshipers at their parish church; their three daughters attend its parochial school; one young son is still at home. Convinced that they cannot afford to have more children, Fred and Cathy for the past few years have practiced birth control. Otherwise, they are loyal Catholics—and typical in their disaffection from what they feel are the church's outdated ways, in their hopes for further renewal.

"At one time," Fred told TIME'S Mayo Mohs, "it was enough that I memorized my catechism lessons so I could go home on time. I engaged in no serious questioning of the system until my junior year of college. It would be peaceful to go back to the time when I accepted all the planned-out answers. But I, like hundreds of thousands of Catholics, can never go back. That is why there is a crisis in the church today. I wonder how long the Catholic church that I have known will survive. When this generation of hierarchy passes away (old cardinals don't really live forever, they just seem to), it will have to be replaced by a group of men who can sell their ideas. If the bark of Peter is to be a living vessel rather than a historical oddity, direction from the top must give way to a 'reasoning together.'

"I suppose that I haven't dropped out of the church because of two main facts: first, after hearing so many people say the same thing so many times, I can't quite shake the feeling that they just might be right. No one has ever proved it, but maybe there is a fire on the other side. I feel that I've got to keep up the premiums, just in case. Second, I still feel that the church has a tremendous capacity to do good, if it can only orient itself to this era of history. It could be a positive factor in mankind's quest for survival. That's why I'm a little more patient with what seems at times to be a 13th century operation.

"I'm sorry that the church isn't in the 20th century, but then, who knows precisely what to do with the 20th century anyway? We live in a time when men may be standing on the surface of the moon and other men may be transplanting human brains. You've got to look for equilibrium somewhere. The Catholic church could stand a million improvements, and it's going to have to have them, but it is better than the great foggy unknown."

"My parents," says Cathy, "were loyal immigrant Irish-Americans, completely subject to the Pope and to all of his edicts. I am not; as long as the Pope is unable to relate his teaching to the needs of all the people, I consider him fallible. Papal infallibility will never be restored until all Christians are returned to the subservient classes or until the Pope advances to a sympathy for the 'real Christian.' I am not convinced that Christ would ever condemn anyone who practiced contraception to save his family from disaster—disaster can come in many forms—or to save his fellow man from the problems of overpopulation.