“What specifically characterizes the laity is their secular nature. It is true that those in holy orders can at times be engaged in secular activities, and even have a secular profession. But they are by reason of their particular vocation especially and professedly ordained to the sacred ministry. Similarly, by their state in life, religious give splendid and striking testimony that the world cannot be transformed and offered to God without the spirit of the beatitudes. But the laity, by their very vocation, seek the kingdom of God by engaging in temporal affairs and by ordering them according to the plan of God. They live in the world, that is, in each and in all of the secular professions and occupations. They live in the ordinary circumstances of family and social life, from which the very web of their existence is woven. They are called there by God that by exercising their proper function and led by the spirit of the Gospel they may work for the sanctification of the world from within as a leaven. In this way they may make Christ known to others, especially by the testimony of a life resplendent in faith, hope and charity. Therefore, since they are tightly bound up in all types of temporal affairs it is their special task to order and to throw light upon these affairs in such a way that they may come into being and then continually increase according to Christ to the praise of the Creator and the Redeemer.” (Lumen Gentium, no. 31)
We are living through a moment in which questions about sex, marriage, consent, and human dignity are being debated publicly and passionately. Catholics have something important to contribute to these conversations. To serve the Truth well, let us take time to reflect and remember what we actually believe. Above all, we should be spending extra time in prayer, begging the Lord of Heaven to send forth his Spirit to instruct us inwardly in what is good and true, and to give us the right words to speak in wisdom when called upon. (cf. Mt 10:19–20)
I would like to share with you some of my own reflections. I hope they are helpful to you.
The Catholic understanding of marriage begins with something much bigger than romance. Marriage is an image of God’s covenant with Creation. Scripture repeatedly uses the language of marriage to speak about God’s relationship with his people: God is the faithful bridegroom; his people are his bride; heaven itself is portrayed as a wedding feast. St. John Paul II therefore called marriage a kind of “primordial sacrament”: a visible sign of God and his relationship with humanity.
Notice what kind of covenant God makes. God’s covenant is not temporary, conditional, or merely symbolic. He gives himself faithfully to his people; he does not abandon them when they are unfaithful. Marriage therefore reflects something about the very character of divine Love: it is permanent, exclusive, and open to life. Spouses give themselves to one another in a covenant that endures their whole lives, in exclusive fidelity to one another, bringing forth new life. This is why the Church speaks of marriage as ordered both to the good of the spouses and to the raising of children—the so-called “unitive” and “procreative” dimensions of marriage. These are not two unrelated purposes that happen to be attached to the institution of marriage. They are two aspects of the same, single purpose: the marriage covenant is unitive because it is open to life, and procreative insofar as it is unitive.
This also explains why marriage is not merely a private arrangement between two consenting adults. Because marriage itself announces something about the covenant between God and humanity, it has a public meaning. The spouses are, in a real sense, witnesses to the world of what a divine covenant looks like. (cf. Eph 5:32) Marriage is therefore a prophetic and evangelical service—not principally a mutual service exchanged between the spouses, but rather a joint service the spouses perform together for the sake of the world. By the pattern of their life together, spouses announce what a covenant looks like and call Creation toward a faithful relationship with the Creator.
This is why the Christian understanding of sex is so profound. In the marital act, husband and wife give themselves to one another bodily (consummatum) in a way that corresponds to the covenant they have forged with one another by vow (ratum). This is why we must not and cannot regard sex as merely a pleasurable activity to which people may attach whatever meaning they wish. The sexual act has an intrinsic meaning of its own: it speaks the language of complete, faithful, exclusive bodily self-offering. It is the token and emblem of a total gift of self—we can even speak of marital sex as a “sacramental”—a gift that is per se ordered toward new life.
Thus understood, because it is the one-flesh union of man and woman made in the image and likeness of God, the marriage covenant is nothing less than an icon of the Creator creating Creation—of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit bringing forth all things from the fruitful fullness of the mutual indwelling of the Persons of the Most Blessed Trinity in the Unity of the Godhead. Within the heart of marriage, the marital act—I mean sex between married spouses—becomes an icon of the mystery of the Incarnation, that is, of the full revelation of this eternal covenant between Creator and Creation. Accordingly, just as in the Most Holy Eucharist the Word made flesh offers himself to his creatures in their flesh, so also in the marital act the spouses commune in the most mutual and indwelling fashion. This is why the Eucharist is called a wedding feast and a wonderous exchange.
Christians proclaim that “the Word became flesh and dwelt among us” (Jn 1:14), words that are on our lips daily when we pray the Angelus. God did not merely communicate his love to us from a distance, but entered bodily into our world and wedded himself in the Second Divine Person to our humanity. The Christian vision of marriage and sexuality takes the body seriously precisely for that reason: the body is not incidental to who we are or to how we love. Each human person is a body-soul unity, one nature that is both corporeal and spiritual. The soul is the form of the body, not as contained by it, but as containing it. The body expresses the soul of a human person, just as the sacred humanity of Jesus reveals the divine Person of the Word. By the Incarnation, God took to himself human flesh as the preeminent instrument of divine revelation. What we do in our bodies, whether we know it or not, is caught up in this mystical dynamic of God’s self-revelation.
These sublime truths must not be treated as abstractions. If we cherish them and meditate upon them, they shall inspire in us deep love and longing for the God to whom they refer. “O God, you are my God—it is you I seek! For you my body yearns; for you my soul thirsts.” (Ps. 63:2) They also give us a very practical framework for thinking about sexual ethics. Sexual acts are not morally significant merely because two (or more) people do or do not consent to them. Consent matters enormously: violating someone’s freedom or autonomy is a grave offense. But consent answers only one question. It does not tell us what the act itself is or whether the thing chosen (or forced) is worthy of human beings in the first place.
Catholic moral theology gives us a remarkably useful vocabulary for thinking through these distinctions. Every human action can be considered according to three ethical dimensions: object, intention, and circumstances.
Object: What am I actually doing? Intention: Why am I choosing to do it? What am I trying to accomplish? Circumstances: What are the surrounding conditions—who is involved, what is happening, when and where it occurs, and what consequences or other relevant factors are present?
These questions belong together, but they are not interchangeable. A good intention does not automatically make a bad act good. Circumstances can make an action more or less serious, but they do not transform a bad act into a good one. And consent, important as it is, belongs principally to the question of how a person participates in an action; it cannot by itself answer the question of whether the action is good.
These distinctions are particularly important in conversations about sexual morality. We should be able to say clearly both that consent matters profoundly and that consent is not the whole of sexual ethics. A person can freely choose something foolish, degrading, or wrong. The fact that something is chosen voluntarily tells us something important about the act, but it does not magically make every chosen object good.
This in turn requires us to think carefully about what we mean by freedom. Freedom is not simply freedom from constraint—the absence of any rule, obligation, or limitation. Human freedom is ultimately freedom for something: for truth, for goodness, for wholeness, for human flourishing, and ultimately for the Love by whom and for whom we were created. (cf. Col 1:16) A person who is free from every restraint but unable to live well is not, in the fullest sense, free.
For this reason, we should not oppose or be troubled by the legitimate exercise of authority to establish and preserve the conditions in which human beings and communities can flourish. The Church, civil governments, universities, parents, and other persons entrusted with authority must sometimes restrain individual action within their proper sphere of competence. This is right. Such limits must be carefully discerned, proportionate, and genuinely ordered to the common good. Authority must never become an excuse for arbitrary control or the suppression of legitimate personal autonomy. But neither should we imagine that every constraint upon individual choice is therefore an attack on freedom. Properly understood, freedom is not the absence of all boundaries. It is the freedom to pursue what is truly good, within a social order that helps human beings become what they are capable of becoming.
Autonomy (from Greek words meaning “a law unto oneself”) presupposes righteousness and responsibility. (cf. 1 Tim 1:6–11) The truly autonomous person does not do whatever he or she wants, as though “autonomy” meant independence from all duties and responsibilities imposed from outside. The proper terms for that situation would be licentiousness (giving oneself permission to disregard the moral law), lawlessness (the rejection or absence of positive law), and, in the social order, even anarchy (the absence or impotence of legitimate authority). In contrast, the autonomous person does what justice and charity requires, even in the absence of a positive law, because the moral law—what is intrinsically good and true—has been so deeply internalized that he or she freely does what a just law would have required. In this light, we can see how profoundly “autonomy,” especially “bodily autonomy,” is fundamentally misunderstood in many contemporary conversations.
It would be a shame to keep the Catholic faith to ourselves. I am sharing the above reflections not principally for your private consideration. I hope they will spur you into action. Again, I encourage you to spend extra time in prayer and reflection in order to develop and refine your own thoughts and attitudes on the events of the day. Most of all, I hope you will realize that the profundity of Catholic truth gives us a way to enter public conversations and bring the Gospel to bear on the events of the day without simply parroting “the Church teaches...” at people who do not yet share our beliefs.
In fact, people often already possess fragments of good moral intuition that Catholic theology can give a clearer articulation. We hear many people saying, “That is wrong.” “That is degrading.” “No human being should be treated that way.” “Some things should never be done to another person.” “The authorities should do (or should have done) something about this.” These are not merely subjective expressions of taste or opinion. These are moral claims; they are truth claims. They present a golden opportunity for Catholics to enter the conversation. Whatever the religion, politics, or ideology of the person making these claims, we Catholics can and must be able to affirm what is true and good, to make distinctions and clarifications where necessary, and so lead the campus community toward Christ—whether they realize it or not. The “laity are called in a special way to make the Church present and operative in those places and circumstances where only through them can it be the salt of the earth.” (Lumen Gentium, no. 33)
This is part of our responsibility as Christians. The Lord Jesus tells us that we are salt of the earth, leaven in the dough, and light for the world. We are not called to retreat from difficult conversations because our neighbors do not yet speak the language of Catholic theology. Much less are we permitted to stand aloof, as if their plight were not our problem. We are called to help our neighbors see more clearly what they may already see in shadow: that human beings are endowed with an infinite dignity; that sex is sacred; that our choices have real moral meaning; that some things are objectively good and some objectively evil; and that freedom is not simply the power to choose whatever we want, but the capacity to choose what is truly good.
The Church has spent over two thousand years thinking and praying carefully about these questions. We possess a rich intellectual tradition concerning the human person, freedom, intention, action, virtue, marriage, sexuality, and the common good. We should not keep that vocabulary for ourselves. We should share it generously: not wielding it to win arguments, but to help our neighbors think more clearly about what it means to be human.
To do so is to exercise our baptismal munera, our participation in Christ’s threefold office of priest, prophet, and king, duties we were all charged with a share at baptism. Priest, by offering our daily lives to God and so bridging the gap between the Church and secular world. Prophet, by affirming people’s basic moral intuitions, leading them from gut feelings toward the deeper truths, even when they do not yet have the words to name them. King, by ordering the affairs of our own personal life, setting boundaries and standards to strengthen the moral life of our communities, helping good things rise, and working so that our campus may be more and more permeated by the spirit of Christ through us, the members of his Body.
IV. Nine Concrete Suggestions for Seasoning, Leavening, and Enlightening Cornell
Pray before you speak. Before entering a difficult conversation about sex, marriage, politics, or human dignity, take a moment to pray for wisdom, charity, and the right words. Ask the Holy Spirit to help you speak the truth without fear and without judgment. “Not that of ourselves we are qualified to take credit for anything as coming from us; rather, our qualification comes from God.” (2 Cor 3:5)
Know your Catholic Faith and learn the vocabulary. Spend time studying the faith and learning the basic distinctions of Catholic moral theology: object, intention, and circumstances; freedom and responsibility; virtue and vice; dignity and the common good. You cannot share what you do not possess.
Affirm what is true. When someone makes a sound judgment—“That is degrading,” “No one should be treated that way,” “That is wrong”—affirm it. You do not have to endorse everything else that person believes in order to recognize and strengthen what is true.
Don’t be a relativist. When someone expresses a moral intuition, do not stop at “I agree” or “I disagree.” That may only reinforce a subjective relativism. Instead, ask: Why? What about this is right or wrong? What does it reveal about human dignity? What kind of freedom is at stake? Help move the conversation from reaction to reflection.
Don’t be a fundamentalist. Speak authoritatively, don’t merely invoke authority. Instead of defaulting to “The Church teaches...”, try explaining why something is true in terms your conversation partner can understand: human dignity, the nature of the person, freedom, love, justice, flourishing, or the common good.
Be a friend who tells the truth. Do not participate in gossip, degrading jokes, sexual boasting, or conversations that treat other people as objects. Put a stop such behavior. When possible, name the misbehavior and gently redirect the conversation. If necessary, shake the dust from your sandals and depart. Your own conduct can change the moral atmosphere of a friend group. But if salt loses its savor, what is it good for? (cf. Mt 5:13)
Use your influence to make something better. Within the spheres actually entrusted to you—your roommate situation, student organization, laboratory, workplace, team, or friend group—help establish practices and expectations that promote human dignity and flourishing. Do not tolerate, but rather denounce hookup culture. Prohibit it within the scope of your own dorm or apartment. Kingship begins with the little kingdom actually placed in your care.
Make room for the good to grow. Invite people to dinner. Welcome someone who is isolated. Start a serious conversation. Bring friends to Mass, Bible study, or a Catholic event. Support something that builds community. Leaven works from within, and usually rather quietly.
Enter the public square. When an issue involving human dignity, sexuality, freedom, justice, or the common good arises on campus, do not hold back or hope that someone else will speak. Read carefully, think critically, pray, and when you have something true and charitable to say, say it. You do not need to win the argument or look smart. Your task is to bear witness to what is True and Good. Your words may bear good fruits in ways you will never learn about.
Prelims are upon you. The last thing you need is national news cameras filming B-roll as you try to go about your day. Nor do you need 29 paragraphs of extra reading. For some of you, the events of these weeks will cause particular bitterness, anxiety, and sadness, as they bring to mind your own experiences of sexual violence, accusations, sins, and other painful experiences. We know too well what it means to call this life a “vale of tears.” But God “comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction.” (2 Cor 1:4) Let us bear gently and kindly with one another. Please know of my prayers for you. I am available to talk anytime, as are Father Dan and Father David as well.
I entrust you all to the care of Our Lady of the Most Holy Rosary, Our Blessed Mother of Good Counsel, Seat of Wisdom, Virgin Most Chaste, and Help of Christians.
Finally, I ask you to pray a Rosary, offering it with and through the intercession of St. John Henry Newman, patron of Catholic communities at secular universities, that all of us in the Cornell Catholic Community, individually and collectively, will accept our God-given responsibility to be the salt, leaven, and light that is so very needed at Cornell.
Sincerely yours in the Lord,
Deacon Matthew October 7, 2026 Our Lady of the Most Holy Rosary