Rethinking Roe v. Wade

Rethinking Roe v. Wade

The Ministry of Magic has fallen.”

That’s the apocalyptic phrase that a good friend of mine used yesterday to convey to me the news of Justice Kennedy’s retirement.

If you don’t speak “Potter,” it’s a quote that signals the totality of the Dark Lord’s takeover of all branches of Government.

And according to CNN, my friend was right—especially when it comes to “Abortion Rights.”

with kennedy gone
Screengrab, CNN.com

According to Jeffrey Toobin, “Roe v. Wade is doomed” because of Kennedy’s departure.

And while I wish that were true, I’m not so sure.

ROE v. WADE

My aim here is not to evaluate the full scope of Kennedy’s influence, or even the net gain or loss because of his departure on other legal matters.  If you’re interested in that discussion, please see the comments section on my MySpace page.

My interest here is narrow.

It is merely to explain (without hyperbole or divisive WWE-inspired rhetoric) why young, Pro-Life Christians like myself think it would be a good thing if Roe v. Wade were overturned—despite the fact that I am about the furthest thing from a so-called “Court Evangelical” as is imaginable.

Here is the basic line of reasoning:

  1. All human beings have basic human rights.

In this way, my reason for opposing Roe v. Wade is the same as my reason for opposing slavery, Jim Crow, the Nazi holocaust, human trafficking, sexual assault, and the “ripping” of small children from their immigrant mothers to create a psychological deterrent bolstered by some out-of-context Bible verses (see here).[1]

It’s about “human rights”—not merely “reproductive rights.”

  1. Unborn children are human beings.

This, of course, is the sticking point.

It is not that my friends who disagree with me on abortion are “moral monsters” who want to murder kids.  The issue is that they differ with me on what constitutes a “human being.”

This is where the conversation must take place, because this is the point on which the whole validity of Roe hinges.

And let’s be honest, if one looks at an embryo shortly after sperm and egg unite, it is not hard to differentiate between that zygote and, say, my one-year-old son.

They look very different.

But the problem is that even if one grants this point, almost all abortions take place after this very early stage.  They take place later, when it is often quite obvious that the unborn child is, indeed, a human life.

With the advent of, say, 3D ultrasound technology, it is now far more difficult to speak of a fetus as “just a lump of tissue.”  Hence many women who are contemplating abortion change their minds upon sight of an ultrasound.

We are talking about babies with heartbeats, some of which can recoil from pain, and some of which can even respond to the sound of their own mother’s voice.

Heartbeat – 3 wks.

Hear sounds – 16 wks.

Recoil from pain – 20 wks.

Roe v. Wade says that killing those babies is permissible. I disagree.

The reason, however, is not because I want to tell women what to do with “their bodies,” but because of a conviction over the baby’s right to live.

  1. Current law is inconsistent.

As it stands now, the dividing line between “human” and “not human” is determined, in some cases, by whether one wants the child. 

And this position is inconsistent with other laws.

Case in point: If a pregnant mother is hit by a drunk driver en route to an abortion clinic, the guilty driver can legally be convicted of the “homicide” (sometimes called “fetal homicide”) of the unborn child.

Yet if the mother arrives safely, the same death of the same fetus is now fully legal.

The problem here is that human rights are not determined merely by the question of whether someone wants you to exist.

And while we may forfeit our rights, say, by committing a crime and going to jail, a fetus has done nothing of the sort.

  1. No one has unfettered rights over “their own” body.

One of the more common arguments in favor of abortion is that a woman ought to be allowed to do what she wants with her own body.  And in many cases, I agree. One of the great values of the #MeToo movement is its reminder of how frequently (and violently) women have been deprived of basic bodily respect.

Yet having said that, no one gets to do whatever they want with their body. No one. That’s actually what laws do—they regulate what you can and cannot do with your physical “self.”

Every law does that: from traffic violations, to burglary, to criminal assault.  You can’t do certain things with your body; and the most basic thing you cannot do is to unduly deprive another “body” of their right to be (See #2).

The mere fact that a baby is inside its mother does not erase the child’s unique humanity (See #3).  The unborn child has her own heartbeat, her own fingerprints, and her own right to go unmolested by others (See #1).

CONCLUSION

Of course, none of the these arguments would eliminate abortion in the extreme case that a mother’s life is in grave danger. Nor do they give Pro-Lifers permission to fight violence with violence.

Many women contemplating abortion have been placed in a terrible position.

Hence Christians especially should be known for responding to all pregnant moms (and indeed all people) with grace and truth.

Nothing hurts the Pro-Life cause more than the sense that its adherents are suspiciously selective in deciding which “lives” deserve love, respect, and hospitality (See this fantastic piece by Karen Swallow Prior).

Still, my argument does mean that Roe v. Wade should go.

If it did, it would not end abortion, but rather throw the decision back to the states (and the people) to decide which persons are worthy of protection.

And for many of us, the decision would be very difficult. Not because the “Ministry of Magic” is fallen—but because we are.

 

 


Notes:

[1] In case it’s not obvious, I’m not equating every violation in that list as equally heinous.

 


 

Like this post? Signup here to receive bonus content through my email Newsletter (“Serpents and Doves”).

Each newsletter will contain material not available on the blog, including excerpts and info on forthcoming books.

I will not clog your inbox, and I will not share your email address.

We are Seven: On counting miscarriage

We are Seven: On counting miscarriage

“How many children do you have?”

That was the seemingly innocuous question that I asked my new acquaintance as we sat around the chips and salsa at our local Chili’s.

Like most parents, he answered with a number. Then he said the part that I had not expected:

“We had two miscarriages. And we always count those.”

While I responded with empathy, I recall thinking that most of us (myself included) do not publically number our children to include the little lives that never made it to delivery.

And on many levels, that is understandable.

We all deal with grief differently.  And it would be wrong to force one way of processing a failed pregnancy on others.

OUR MISCARRIAGE

About a year and a half ago Brianna and I walked through our own experience of miscarriage. And while it was sad for me, at the time, I was primarily concerned for her well-being.

After hearing a noise in our house, I came into our bedroom to find Brianna unconsciousness from blood loss.  I panicked.  Then I phoned my mom to watch our kids; I carried Brianna’s (now) semi-conscious body to the car, did my best to place her inside, and then drove us to the hospital.

Thankfully, she was soon okay.

But the baby had been deceased for several days.

Later, as some readers can relate, there was the awkward reality of having already told some folks that we were pregnant, and now having to explain.  Partly because of this, Brianna chose to share publically that she had lost a pregnancy.  And soon after, she was overwhelmed by the many friends and family who then confided their own stories–some far more traumatic than our own.

It happens often.  But that doesn’t make it nothing.

CONSISTENTLY PRO-LIFE

In Christian circles, one hears much about the need to be “Pro-Life,” and rightly so.

While the issue of abortion is polarizing, my own view leans on both Scripture and science to conclude that an unborn child is indeed a sacred human life, however small.

Even so, the consistent application of my “Pro-Life” stance involves much more than just abortion. It is a virtue that spans from womb to tomb, and sweeps up everything from welfare to warfare within its complicated wake.

I aim to be consistently Pro-Life.

Yet this too raises questions as to how I “count” our miscarriage.

WORDSWORTH OVER CHIPS AND SALSA

In a slightly different vein, something like my Chili’s conversation also happens in a classic poem by William Wordsworth (“We Are Seven”; pub. 1798).

Its verses recount an exchange between a traveler and a simple peasant girl.

The traveler asks:

“Sisters and brothers, little Maid, / How many may you be?”

“How many? Seven in all,” she said, / And wondering looked at me.

“And where are they? I pray you tell.” / She answered, “Seven are we; / And two of us at Conway dwell, / And two are gone to sea.

“Two of us in the church-yard lie, / My sister and my brother; / And, in the church-yard cottage, I / Dwell near them with my mother.”

Yet this statement brings confusion to the traveler: “I thought that you said seven.”

“You say that two at Conway dwell, / And two are gone to sea, / Yet ye are seven! I pray you tell, / Sweet Maid, how this may be.”

The misunderstanding, of course, involves the girl’s counting of her two dead siblings (“who in the church-yard lie”) as present members of her family.

Unfortunately, the mathematical modern adult doesn’t get it:

“You run about, my little Maid, / Your limbs they are alive; / If two are in the church-yard laid, / Then ye are only five.”

WE ARE SEVEN

As I read the poem recently (outside, on a nice morning, as is legally required of Wordsworth), it struck me that perhaps the number “seven” reflects our family too.

For if I were to begin consciously “counting” the child that we lost to miscarriage, then we would indeed be Seven. –(1) Brianna, (2) Josh, (3) Lucy, (4) Penny, (5) Ewan, (6) Baby unnamed, (7) Teddy.

And while I have no plans to begin saying this whenever someone asks about my children, perhaps it is a more consistent conclusion for those of us who consider ourselves “Pro-Life.”

After all, the weight of Wordsworth’s poem lies in the child’s stubborn insistence that death does not erase a child from the family roll.

To live at all is to be woven forever into the fabric of “present personhood.” We are eternal.

For to use Donne’s metaphor, “all mankind is of one author, and is one volume.” And while death is powerful and grievous, it cannot tear out words and pages from this book.  It can only translate them–if they be written in Christ’s blood–“into a better language.”

The trouble, however—as my two-year-old reminds me daily—is that children learn new “languages” far easier than grown-ups.

Thus even our ostensibly “Christian” thinking about miscarriage can often leave us thinking as only slightly more cordial versions of Wordsworth’s adult traveler, in need of child-like wisdom:

“How many are you, then,” said I, / “If they two are in heaven?” / Quick was the little Maid’s reply, / “O Master! we are seven.”

“But they are dead; those two are dead! / Their spirits are in heaven!” / ’Twas throwing words away; for still / The little Maid would have her will, / And said, “Nay, we are seven!