Case #2: Bob and Jane are married; there’s no real doubt about that. But they aren’t ready to have children. (They are both still in graduate school, and their household budget is awfully tight.) Their pastor, who understands their situation perfectly, has proposed a “pastoral solution;” he tells Bob and Jane that they must decide, guided by their own consciences, how long they must postpone a pregnancy, and by what means.

Case #3: Ed and Diane are definitely not married, but now they are ready to take the plunge. Although they have lived in the area (in the same apartment, in fact) for over a year, they had not visited the parish church until this week, when they announced that they want a church wedding. The pastor is frankly annoyed by their attitude, because they obviously see the church as nothing more than an attractive backdrop for the wedding photos. But he does not want to create a negative impression with the young people. So he takes a “pastoral” attitude and, swallowing his pride, books a Sunday afternoon in May for their ceremony.

Case #4: Harry and Joan are teenagers in the parish confirmation class. Neither one of them can name the 12 apostles, or the 10 Commandments, or for that matter the three persons of the Holy Trinity. Neither one of them has been seen inside the parish church since the new pastor arrived three years ago. But if they are not confirmed along with the others in the class, it will be embarrassing for everyone concerned. So the “pastoral solution” is invoked, and Harry and Joan march up the unfamiliar aisle with their classmates.

Case #5: Peter and Nancy are active parishioners, members of the finance committee, and extraordinary Eucharistic ministers. One week, they casually mention to the pastor that they cannot be assigned to a Mass the coming Sunday morning, since they will be chairing a fundraising breakfast for Planned Parenthood. The priest does not approve of their involvement, but he sticks to his “pastoral” approach, and declines to be drawn into a political dispute.

Case #6: Fred and Marian and Paul and Rosemary are all patiently waiting in line outside the Reconciliation Room on Saturday afternoon as Father McCarthy comes to the end of the time he has allotted for hearing confessions. (Something like this happened the previous week, too; maybe 20 minutes a week is not enough for a parish of 12,000 people.) But the clever priest immediately sees the need for a “pastoral solution.” He gives general absolution to everyone who is waiting, and announces that he will do the same the following week.

Cui bono?

In each of the above hypothetical cases, the “pastoral solution” involves a clear violation of canon law. In some cases the “pastoral” approach overlooks situations that appear gravely sinful; at best it encourages disrespect for Church authority and a lackadaisical approach to spiritual life. Would the Curé of Ars ever have taken such an approach?

Rather than challenging parishioners to greater ascetical practice, the “pastoral approach” encourages a niggardly response to religious belief: What is the bare minimum of Christian discipline compatible with salvation? The standard of judgment used by venal bureaucrats—”good enough for government work”—is adapted for use by shepherds of Christ’s flock.

When the pastor opts for this approach, he ignores opportunities to instruct, to evangelize, to administer the sacraments, and to offer spiritual direction. In short, he endangers the welfare of souls that are entrusted to his care. In what sense, then, can his decisions be described as “pastoral?”

Last night, the answer to that question suddenly came to me in a flash. Take another look at those six hypothetical cases above. What do they have in common? In every case, the “pastoral solution” involves less work for the pastor.