On this anniversary of Roe v. Wade a clarion call: "We shall not weary, we shall not rest!"

From Fr. Richard John Neuhaus, July 2008:

We contend, and we contend relentlessly, for the dignity of the human person, of every human person, created in the image and likeness of God, destined from eternity for eternity—every human person, no matter how weak or how strong, no matter how young or how old, no matter how productive or how burdensome, no matter how welcome or how inconvenient. Nobody is a nobody; nobody is unwanted. All are wanted by God, and therefore to be respected, protected, and cherished by us.

We shall not weary, we shall not rest, until every unborn child is protected in law and welcomed in life. We shall not weary, we shall not rest, until all the elderly who have run life’s course are protected against despair and abandonment, protected by the rule of law and the bonds of love. We shall not weary, we shall not rest, until every young woman is given the help she needs to recognize the problem of pregnancy as the gift of life. We shall not weary, we shall not rest, as we stand guard at the entrance gates and the exit gates of life, and at every step along way of life, bearing witness in word and deed to the dignity of the human person—of every human person.

Against the encroaching shadows of the culture of death, against forces commanding immense power and wealth, against the perverse doctrine that a woman’s dignity depends upon her right to destroy her child, against what St. Paul calls the principalities and powers of the present time, this convention renews our resolve that we shall not weary, we shall not rest, until the culture of life is reflected in the rule of law and lived in the law of love.

[...]

The culture of death is an idea before it is a deed. I expect many of us here, perhaps most of us here, can remember when we were first encountered by the idea. For me, it was in the 1960s when I was pastor of a very poor, very black, inner city parish in Brooklyn, New York. I had read that week an article by Ashley Montagu of Princeton University on what he called “A Life Worth Living.” He listed the qualifications for a life worth living: good health, a stable family, economic security, educational opportunity, the prospect of a satisfying career to realize the fullness of one’s potential. These were among the measures of what was called “a life worth living.”

And I remember vividly, as though it were yesterday, looking out the next Sunday morning at the congregation of St. John the Evangelist and seeing all those older faces creased by hardship endured and injustice afflicted, and yet radiating hope undimmed and love unconquered. And I saw that day the younger faces of children deprived of most, if not all, of those qualifications on Prof. Montagu’s list. And it struck me then, like a bolt of lightning, a bolt of lightning that illuminated our moral and cultural moment, that Prof. Montagu and those of like mind believed that the people of St. John the Evangelist—people whom I knew and had come to love as people of faith and kindness and endurance and, by the grace of God, hope unvanquished—it struck me then that, by the criteria of the privileged and enlightened, none of these my people had a life worth living. In that moment, I knew that a great evil was afoot. The culture of death is an idea before it is a deed.

In that moment, I knew that I had been recruited to the cause of the culture of life. To be recruited to the cause of the culture of life is to be recruited for the duration; and there is no end in sight, except to the eyes of faith.

[...]

In the midst of the encroaching darkness of the culture of death, we have heard the voice of him who said, “In the world you will have trouble. But fear not, I have overcome the world.” Because he has overcome, we shall overcome. We do not know when; we do not know how. God knows, and that is enough. We know the justice of our cause, we trust in the faithfulness of his promise, and therefore we shall not weary, we shall not rest.

Eliminating the retarded

Two articles I've read in the past few days have coincided. Amy Julia Becker writes on the First Things blog a response to new prenatal genetic screening for Down Syndrome:

In a letter to the editor of the New York Times, William Motley, a geneticist of Oxford University, writes, “Fighting Down syndrome with prenatal screening does not ‘border on eugenics.’ It is a ‘search-and-destroy mission’ on the disease, not on a category of citizens. . . . ” Similarly, a pediatric cardiologist writes about Down syndrome: “Tremendous social, medical and monetary burdens are inevitable parts of this disorder . . . these (prenatal) tests are invaluable, should be made available to all, and may help individuals possibly avoid a very significant life-changing illness.” Much as Mr. Motley might want to claim that prenatal screening is not about a category of citizens, the practical result of what he advises is indeed to eliminate an entire group of persons.

In a recent collection of essays titled Theology, Disability, and the New Genetics, Hans Reinders states a countervailing claim: “Life is good as it is.” Life is good as it is. It sounds simple. Theologically, it rings true. And yet the vast majority of individuals in our culture choose to terminate a pregnancy if they learn that their baby will be born with a disability. Why? If life is good as it is, why is it considered good by many in our culture to ensure that children with disabilities are not born at all?

As Reinders writes, “many people with disabilities resulting from genetic disorders experience their own lives as good.” I can certainly affirm this statement in the case of our daughter Penny, who has Down syndrome. Penny is nearing her third birthday, as she would proudly tell anyone who cares to ask. Her days consist of playing with blocks and balls and running to the playground, of reading books, of entertaining those around her with proclamations like, “Uh-oh spaghettios!” and “Okey-doke!” She loves her little brother “Wilwum.” She loves bagels and music and school. In general terms, we aren’t concerned about her health or development, and neither is she. Her current challenges include learning to swallow her drool instead of letting it dribble down her chin and learning to tell us before she needs to use the potty. In other words, there is very little that is “not good” about Penny’s life.

Today we hear that Guinness World Records has recognized Bert Holbrook, 80, of Waseca, MN as the world's oldest man with Down Syndrome.

“He understood the excitement” but not the specifics, [Bert's nurse] said.

Foley said Holbrook’s health coincides with that of most 80-year-olds.

“He’s definitely slowing down and tires easily but maintains his same daily routine.”

That includes lunch twice a week at the Waseca Area Senior Citizens Center.

Amy Julia Becker admits the real difficulties and suffering that can accompany a severe disability, but also notices how often the person is viewed as a burden not because of a specific challenge but rather just because they exist in a certain way.

Much of the alienation and stigma people with disabilities experience is a product of societal norms rather than of problems intrinsic to the disabilities themselves. Take the mainstream media. The New York Times reports: “The 5,500 children born with Down syndrome each year in the United States suffer from mild to moderate mental retardation, are at high risk for congenital heart defects and a variety of other medical problems, and have an average life expectancy of 49.” Suffer. High risk. Defects. Problems. This reporter goes on to write, “One doctor asked about studies suggesting there is a higher risk of early-onset Alzheimer’s disease in people with Down syndrome, potentially saddling parents with another caretaking burden as they themselves age.” Again, the language is telling—saddling, another burden. [...]

The medical establishment demonstrates a similar prejudice. Penny, according to technical language, was born with a birth “defect” or “abnormality.” And she was presumed to be unhealthy, even though we left the hospital on time, two days after she was born. She had scored an eight out of ten on her Apgar test, an echocardiogram indicated that her heart was sound, and she had no other medical issues. Nonetheless, we took with us a list of all the things that might go wrong, including leukemia, celiac disease, thyroid problems, crooked teeth, and spinal instability. None of those, by the way, were even potential immediate concerns. If our social perceptions changed, much of the supposed suffering that comes from disability would be eliminated. (emphasis added)

Around 92% of women who have their child diagnosed with Down syndrome through prenatal screening choose to abort the child. How many lives would be different today had Mr. Holbrook's mother had this option? Would the world be a better place without him, or without people like him? Is the compassion of Bert's caregivers misspent, better to have been given elsewhere to someone who "deserves it"?

I know that it can be very difficult to care for a person with a lifelong disability. But is the solution to engage in a seek-and-destroy mission against those who are created different?

The unique contribution of Judaism to the dignity of women and family life

Michael Novak at First Things:

In the temples of its neighbors near and far, Israel saw that ritual acts of prostitution and sacral couplings between religious leaders and women (or men) were routinely performed. Sexual activities were placed at the core of worship ceremonies in virtually all cultures, even including pre-mosaic Israel. Only in Israel did the prophets rail against these activities, and repeatedly drove them from the temple. The ancient world considered sexual “normality” to be fulfilled in the ungoverned sexuality of males, to which women were merely instrumental. In many of the cultures surrounding Israel, sexual acts between males were given equal or even superior value to those between males and females. In those cultures, little differentiation was made between homosexuality and heterosexuality. The important difference to people then lay in who did the penetrating and who was penetrated, not in which gender played which role.

Against this common vision of sexual normalcy stood the towering Moses. He taught Israel, virtually alone, to embrace a new standard for human sexual life. This standard gave its blessing solely to sexual acts between a man and a woman in the covenanted relationship of monogamous marriage. What a great channeling of sexual energies this provision achieved. What a great concentration of energies it brought to the world. What great, non-instrumental dignity it gave to women.

Many elites in other cultures continued to exhaust their energies in polymorphous sex. They expended whole days on the arts of pleasure—the smells, the scents, the music, the languorous bodies of dancers. And in this sexually saturated world, women remained mere instruments. As Norman Sussman wrote, “The woman was seen as serving but two roles. As a wife, she ran the home. As a courtesan, she satisfied male sexual desires.” When sensory pleasures are considered the highest aim of life—not study nor inquiry nor civic virtue—economic and cultural development is heavily retarded.

Is sexual activity the highest end of life? For Moses and the people of Israel, it assuredly was not. It was of course a great good, and one essential to the perpetuation of the human race. Sexuality was not meant to be repressed. But it was meant to run—and to run deep—in only one channel.

From this sublimation there arose two great social consequences. First, women achieved sexual equality with men in the holy union of marriage. “In His image [God] made them, male and female He made them” (Genesis 1:27). This text says clearly that the divine radiance in human life shines through the marital union of man and woman. Therein, each person finds completeness. Only together, fully one, does the married couple bear the image of the Creator.

The second great consequence is to channel immense energy into society through its fundamental unit, the family—and not just energy, but also a continuity of consciousness, and the dream of a more perfect future. Thus Judaism gave birth to the idea of progress. Judaism introduced the ancient world to the reality of progress. Judaism sees itself as always unfinished, always unsatisfied. “Next year in Jerusalem,” when “the lion will lie down with the lamb” and the Messiah will at last appear. Each family, at the family table, carries these hopes forward into the future. Making progress is always, in time, an unfinished business. (continue)

How to help uninsured children

This is great! Our clinic is way across town, too far to drive since we moved.


Study: Most Children Strongly Opposed To Children�s Healthcare

Every baby a woman gives birth to is dying

Mark Shea writing for Catholic Exchange has an article about how to respond to a Catholic couple who aborted a baby with spina bifida and anencephaly (no brain):

And I think the best thing we can do with this situation is not adjudicate the souls of people we don’t know anything about concerning a choice they have already made (since that is way too much of a temptation to judge them, especially in cyberspace where judgment and condemnation flow like wine), but to first ask ourselves how we might respond rightly in a similar situation.

In talking to my wife Janet, (the actual baby carrier in this family), she points out the following:

First, ultrasounds have been wrong.

Second, miracles happen sometimes.

Third, and most salient here: every baby she has had is dying. The question is simply, when? Most of them, God willing, will die in 50 to 70 years. But they could die in five minutes.

When we put it that way, we suddenly realize: Knowing that the baby is going to die sooner rather than later is no reason to kill the baby. It is, says Janet, a reason to love the baby for as long as you can while it’s here. That’s very painful, but that is the risk we take every time we choose to love because everything we love in this world is mortal. It may be objected that an anencephalic baby cannot appreciate our love. I would reply that a healthy baby does not appreciate our love either, because a healthy baby has no more mind than a baby born without a brain. The whole point of parenthood, especially in its earliest stages, is radical self-giving (like Christ) to a being who is wholly incapable of giving anything back besides a sucking reflex. It’s an analogy of the grace of God, the great wake-up call, enfleshed, that It’s Not about Me and What I Get from It. A short course in the life of the Blessed Trinity.

In contrast, the unspoken contract, it seems to me, of much of our culture is that the baby is there for the sake of the parents and if the baby is not Perfect, then the parents have the right to break the deal.

Katherine Kersten on polygamist raid in Texas

KK asks some important questions regarding the removal of over 400 children from a polygamist compound in Texas:

First, marriages involving girls in their early teens—and social pressures that encourage under-age marriage—is child abuse, plain and simple. There should be no liberal or conservative divide on this point.

But let’s think about polygamous living arrangements as a basis for this raid. Today, traditional notions of marriage are under attack. We hear everywhere that anyone who is “committed” to another should not be denied the “right” to marry. Our constitutional jurisprudence is warming to the idea that many aspects of behavior involve a “right to privacy,” and that marriage is within that zone.

As a result, what moral, social or legal response can we give today to members of Yearning for Zion who demand that polygamy be decriminalized?

This question is relevant not only to obscure Mormon sects. In Canada and Europe, some Muslims are already demanding state recognition of plural marriage. To the right of privacy and equal protection under the law, they add religious freedom as a justification.

Another point: The Texas raid wrenched hundreds of children away from their mothers. According to Time, 77 of these youngsters are under the age of two. The children are now living in a variety of temporary facilities and foster homes, and are being supervised by a foster care system that is already overtaxed. Was grave harm done to these children and their mothers when Texas authorities seized and refused to return them? The answer seems clear, and should make us shudder.

When this story first broke it reminded me that all of our talk of "tolerance" and church signs proclaiming "WE WELCOME EVERYONE TO OUR TABLE!" is really a mask for a whole lot of discrimination. We all discriminate by drawing a line somewhere. Religious freedom is not absolute: If you marry off 12 year old girls to 45 year old men as part of your religion you should be stopped. "Tolerance" in a church is not absolute: If the pastor who "welocmes all" hired an unrepentent child molestor as a youth leader, he has done wrong by welcoming the pervert.

It is not a choice between being "welcoming" or "intolerant." The question is simply, Where do YOU draw the line? In a culture where no foundation of universal morals is recognized, all that remains is the whim of public opinion backed by the power of the state. Might not my own marriage lived according to my religion be eventually viewed as dangerous to my children?

Have I glimpsed my family's future?

Sally Thomas at the First Things blog contrasts the Lego affectations of her sons and daughters.

Now, presumably in the new Lego dispensation girls can play with whatever they want, though I haven’t met many girls who find Star Wars riveting enough to want to put together the Ultimate Collector’s Milennium Falcon (5,195 pieces). As I look at the picture of this item, here at my desk at home, the telepathic effect is such that my ten-year-old son, at choir practice right now, feels his heart rate go up inexplicably; while the teenager, sitting beside him, merely experiences a brief frisson of apathy and then swats him with her Voice for Life workbook and hisses, “Would you please not breathe so loudly?” Such is the telepathic effect of their behavior, that I can read it from a mile away.

Even my four-year-old, who likes to play Star Wars because she thinks Leia is pretty, and who also likes putting Legos together because that’s what there is to do around here, gives the Lego catalogs only a passing glance before her brothers seize them up in fevered hands and paw them to pieces. All those machines, she clearly thinks. And not a rabbit or a fairy or a pair of ruby slippers among them. Of course, she’s just this minute stomped with great purpose on some kind of Star Wars ship—it had a lot of clone troopers on it, that’s all I know—which her five-year-old brother undoubtedly left for a reason on the floor in the doorway to this room. This leads me to think that Lego has missed its mark with the ponies and the Sunshine House. What they really need is a line of Terminator Princesses who fight everybody.

From the lips of a saint(?)

Me: Tomorrow is Sunday, so we get to go to Church! And I think you can go to Sunday school again.

Peter: I like Sunday school now. I always get hungry, and they give me food there!