In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Infertility Treadmill: Feminist Ethics, Personal Choice, and the Use of Reproductive Technologies by Karey HarwoodKathryn Lilla CoxThe Infertility Treadmill: Feminist Ethics, Personal Choice, and the Use of Reproductive Technologies Karey Harwood Chapel Hill, NC: University of North Carolina Press, 2007. 221pp. $22.00Karey Harwood’s The Infertility Treadmill, published in the University of North Carolina’s Studies in Social Medicine series, fills a lacuna in the infertility literature. Harwood takes (...) an interdisciplinary approach examining “assisted reproductive technologies” (ART) using current scientific, philosophical, theological, and—most importantly—her own ethnographic research. By way of a thick description of women’s experiences of infertility, she draws the reader into a rich ethical conversation regarding ARTs.Harwood “seeks first and foremost to offer an interpretation of the ethical significance of the increasing use of ART by bringing a particular set of normative or evaluative lenses to bear on a particular set of descriptive data” (8). She engaged in this study because of her desire to explore the connections between decisions to use ART and such factors as paid employment, delayed childbirth, and the ongoing balancing of work and family life. Harwood gathered her descriptive data by spending a year with the Atlanta chapter of RESOLVE (The National Infertility Association): attending monthly meetings and listening to speakers and participants as well as appraising RESOLVE’s national and local literature. She also conducted nine interviews with eight women and one man. Focusing on work and family conflicts in light of questions related to gender justice and the interplay between social and communal norms theories, on the one hand, and private and individual choice, on the other, Harwood teases out the ethical complexity surrounding ARTs.After surveying philosophical and theological literature relevant to her topic, Harwood names and examines existential concerns that emerged from her observations, conversations, and interviews with RESOLVE members. Clustered thematically, these concerns include the painful isolation of infertility, the stigma attached to using ARTs, people’s moralizing, how much treatment to pursue, what is the value in trying one more thing, socioeconomic status, and emotional awareness (62–97). Throughout her discussion of these concerns, [End Page 209] Harwood reminds ethicists of the importance of personal narratives for any treatment of an ethical issue like this.Moreover, her research leads Harwood to deduce that RESOLVE helps people with meaning-making, questions of purpose, language clarification, and various options surrounding infertility and ARTs. She asserts that the infertility experience can be a transformative one for the infertile. The decision-making process regarding the use of ARTs functioned as a type of ritual—albeit “a consumeristic ritual”—that aided people in working through the grief of infertility (157). Religious institutions have not always helped the infertile in these areas. Nonetheless, Harwood’s study leads her to conclude that RESOLVE members and leaders tend to be deficient in their capacities for challenging and critically examining how individual decisions intertwine with larger social contexts.Harwood acknowledges that her methodological decision to focus on one RESOLVE chapter limited her demographics (63–64). Moreover, although for the most part balanced, Harwood’s assessment of her findings is at times partial, even bordering on advocacy. For example, she clearly seeks to make the case that ethical analyses of infertility need to be more nuanced—incorporating more personal narrative—and that RESOLVE needs to be more open to critical self-reflection, especially the critical questioning of the “treadmill of infertility” (133). In her analysis of her findings, Harwood demonstrates how personal narratives help nuance ethical analysis. Less clear is whether RESOLVE can be or wants to be more self-critical and more questioning of its own core premises. Nonetheless, these limitations do not detract from Harwood’s important insights regarding “the infertility treadmill” and the host of issues related to ARTs—including consumerism, the role of rituals, meaning-making, suffering and grief, and gender justice, among others.Those struggling with infertility or considering ARTs will find Harwood to be an empathetic dialogue partner. Others will gain a deeper understanding of infertility’s toll by reading this book. Graduate and advanced undergraduate students will benefit from Harwood’s analysis of how personal decisions have wide-ranging... (shrink)

The Catholic Tradition requires the faithful to form and follow their conscience. This is the case even with the recognition that consciences can be malformed and one can make errors in practical judgments. Water Shaping Stone examines various aspects of this tradition regarding conscience by using, among other sources, twentieth-century magisterial documents, theologians' works, and Scripture. Kathryn Lilla Cox argues that while the Magisterium retains teaching authority, and a responsibility to help form consciences through its teaching, focusing only on the (...) Magisterium leads to incomplete formation. A more holistic vision of conscience formation means considering the formation of the moral agent to be a multifaceted process that draws on, for example, teaching, prayer, rituals, Scripture, practices, and virtues, along with relationships with the Triune God and communities of accountability. This vision of conscience formation retains the magisterial teaching authority while acknowledging discipleship as the theological basis for making and assessing practical judgments of conscience. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Beyond Apathy: A Theology for Bystanders by Elisabeth T. Vasko, and: The Limits of Hospitality by Jessica WrobleskiKathryn Lilla CoxBeyond Apathy: A Theology for Bystanders Elisabeth T. Vasko Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2015. 269pp. $29.00The Limits of Hospitality Jessica Wrobleski Collegevile, MN: Liturgical Press: A Michael Glazier Book, 2012. 168pp. $19.95At first glance it might seem as if these two books do not belong together since moving beyond apathy (...) requires engaged action, and accepting the limits of hospitality focuses attention on how we step back from particular actions. However, both Vasko and Wrobleski challenge their readers to reconsider how interaction with other people, coupled with honest reflection, stretches the contours of our comfort zones, ultimately leading to conversion, a richer embrace of each other’s humanity, and discipleship practices. Together the works require the reader to grapple with how our apathy not only is culpable as a sin of omission but also functions as another form of inhospitality. In recognizing our various sins, including apathy, how do we practice hospitality for the self while seeking forgiveness and reconciliation?Methodologically, both Vasko and Wrobleski use experience—theirs and others’—in a nuanced, engaging manner. They use narratives to illustrate theory or to prompt critical self-reflection in the context of faith. Their self-revelation is neither overdone nor naïve. Rather, both demonstrate how faith seeks understanding whereby the tradition can help make sense of lived experience, and how experiences at times require theological reconstruction of doctrine in order for the tradition to speak words of hope, salvation, and love in new contexts. Both Vasko and Wrobleski advocate, albeit with different styles, that discipleship requires an honest assessment of contemporary reality while looking toward the future, attending to evidence of an eschatological inbreaking of the kingdom. Together their works bridge the all-too-often divided arenas of theoretical study and religious practice by exploring theological claims and perspectives not their own, as well as prayer and other practices that help correct biases and ideologies.More specifically, Vasko wants to analyze why humans “repeatedly bypass opportunities for resisting violence” (9). Her decision to focus on the “category of bystander” helps her “disrupt the victim-perpetrator and oppressor-oppressed binaries and the hierarchical dualism often accompanying it” (14). This disruption of binary frameworks for considering violence and sin, both between two [End Page 215] individuals or two communities, provides a new consideration of how individuals and communities participate in structural sin, and a compelling assessment of why we are culpable for sins of omission. Vasko advances conversations about white privilege and complicity in structures of sin by considering the question of inaction when confronted with injustice. Why are we bystanders, and how can we move beyond bystander status toward solidarity in the pursuit of justice, especially as it relates to our participation in violence around bullying, racism, sexism, and LGBTQ discrimination? Her theological analysis of the bystander weaves together and demonstrates the interconnectedness of Christology, atonement theory, sin/grace, theological anthropology, and scripture. She demonstrates the importance of drawing on the social sciences for insight into structures and communal norms of behavior as well as strategies for fostering change. While grappling with a tough topic, Vasko ultimately provides a roadmap for acknowledging apathy and beginning the process of moving beyond it, even as some will disagree with the end goal of moving beyond apathy.Wrobleski, too, explores privilege, although in a more understated manner through the category of hospitality. She investigates the limits, along with “the virtues and conditions necessary to sustain the practice of hospitality over time and in diverse circumstance” (ix). It is in the exploration of providing hospitality where the question of privilege arises: Who can offer hospitality? Do we have the means to offer it? What is the risk of hospitality? What form does hospitality take and how does one extend welcome that honors and recognizes the inherent dignity of all people despite different life circumstances? These questions are considered in a richly complex and nuanced way in chapter 4, “The Limits of Security.”Wrobleski explores the communal dimensions of hospitality through narratives of various communities—her own, Catholic Worker houses, and... (shrink)