Beyond Choice

By Julia Smucker

While traveling recently, I saw a button on someone’s backpack that proclaimed, “My body, my choice.” The allusion was clear, and I pondered how much importance our society places on choice. We all make choices, but is it an absolute value by which to measure everything else? Can there be choice without responsibility? Equally striking was the word “my,” carrying with it the idea that choice is a private possession, that one person can make choices in isolation. Should my choices matter only to me – even if another body is dependent on mine?

The individualism implied in this slogan has driven the abortion debate in endless circles. The tendency on both sides to frame their arguments almost exclusively in terms of individual rights has led to something of a stalemate in the public square: a woman’s right to choose comes up against a child’s right to live. Individuals do of course have genuine rights that must be respected, but to move beyond the current dead ends, something more is needed. The individual does not exist in isolation, but rather in relation to and as part of community and society. Rights do not exist in isolation, but rather they relate to certain values.

Considering values helps to shed light on the meaning of rights. We can affirm a number of positive goods at once, but also insist that these goods be rightly prioritized. Nobody is likely to deny that life is a good, and, when kept in healthy perspective, so is choice.

But when anyone’s choice is deemed more valuable than anyone’s life, the priority of values is out of order. When a woman’s choice not to be pregnant trumps the life of her child, when parents’ choices endanger their children either before or after they are born, when a disturbed man’s choice to stockpile an armory results in the death of innocents, when someone’s choice to die solely on their own terms becomes more precious to them than life itself – in all of these cases, choice has been made an idol, at a grave human cost.

When understood in relation to what is most valuable, rights can bring real depth to the conversation. For instance, Catholics believe that a person’s right to life neither begins nor ends at birth but extends throughout one’s natural life. And since this right is rooted in the dignity we all share as bearers of the image of God, it is bigger than the right to simply remain alive. This informs how we should treat everyone, especially those whose human dignity is most often disregarded: the unborn, the poor, immigrants, the imprisoned, the ill and the disabled. To see life as a value and a right is to recognize that all people deserve to be treated with dignity.

When human dignity, or even life itself, is subordinated to individual choice, it often leads to what Blessed John Paul II famously termed the “culture of death.” If we’re to find a cure for this social ill, it requires a recognition that human beings are made to live interdependently. Our choices are not ours alone: they affect others beyond ourselves. And no choice is of greater value than any life.

Julia Smucker holds an master’s degree in systematics from Saint John’s School of Theology in Collegeville, Minnesota. Since being received into the Catholic Church in 2010, she has sought to integrate the gifts of her Mennonite heritage within her newfound ecclesial home. Her commitment to nonviolence has found deep resonance with Catholic teaching on the dignity of all human life. She is a regular contributor to the group blog Vox Nova.

For the week of the 40th anniversary of Roe v. Wade, this blog is featuring guest posts by Catholic bloggers who participated in the November 2012 USCCB event, "An Encounter with Social Media: Bishops and Bloggers Dialogue."

The Potential to Be

By Sarah Vabulas

Potential. Every person has it. It’s a lot to live up to – to fulfill my potential.

What does this mean exactly? For Catholics, it means each person has dignity, that each of us is so much more than we may appear to be at any given time. We are each created to love God more every day and find God in every person despite our differences. Unfortunately, I often find myself lost amidst today’s culture, which makes recognizing God even more difficult.  I struggle to find balance in my work, my family, my social life and my prayer life. Fortunately, my family and friends continuously remind me to discern my potential.

We face daily choices of how to fulfill our individual potential (including the choice not to fulfill it). Living in a culture more confused about the truth than ever is exhausting. People, young and old, are searching for truth. When those of us who are faithful Catholics stand up for our values in the face of tough choices (whether at home or in the voting booth) we are often called intolerant. But we cannot and should not separate our faith from our ability to make crucial decisions.

Every day we are faced with choices in our relationships. Whether it be in a friendship, within a family, or in a romance, these choices affect not only ourselves but those around us. As a 29-year-old woman, I watch my peers make choices that don’t always enable them to fulfill their greatest potential. However, unlike millions of children each year, they have the gift of life to try.

My heart breaks when I hear reports of the number of abortions that take place each day in our country. We live in a great nation, one with even greater potential. Yet due to any number of reasons and a government that allows it, millions of children are not given the chance to find their potential because of abortion.

Abortion robs the dignity not only of the tiny human person who loses his or her life but of the mother and father who make this life-altering choice. The Roe v. Wade decision occurred 10 years before my birth. I shudder to think of the possibilities, the potential, of the number of my peers that didn’t get their shot at life. I often wonder how the world would be different.

My generation is full of loneliness. We are all searching for deeper community and a connection with the world. I can’t help but think that because we allow such monstrosities as abortion, this culture shift won’t change. And lately I’ve been wrestling with the intolerance of violence against children and the tolerance for abortion. To me, these things are the same.

To defeat the tolerance for abortion, we must change hearts. It is up to my generation to do so. If we recognize the potential in every life, I believe that we will live in a world where we no longer have to wonder if we are we missing a generation of friends, colleagues, leaders and heroes because of abortion. 

We are each called to fulfill the potential in ourselves. It’s as simple as that. But it’s a shame a million of us each year aren’t given the same chance to live up to it.

Sarah Vabulas, AKA “Vabs,” is a graduate of Saint Mary’s College at Notre Dame where she studied communications and theology. She has a social media presence known as the Catholic Drinkie where she blogs about her love for the Catholic faith and her pursuit of community and a tasty beverage. She coordinates the 20/30 Somethings group at her parish, the Cathedral of Christ the King in Atlanta.

For the week of the 40th anniversary of Roe v. Wade, this blog is featuring guest posts by Catholic bloggers who participated in the November 2012 USCCB event, "An Encounter with Social Media: Bishops and Bloggers Dialogue."

What Children Teach Us About Abortion

By Mary DeTurris Poust

As deeply committed as I've been to the pro-life effort over the years--going on marches to Washington, standing up in college classes to argue my point, writing columns and feature stories and blog posts--I have to admit that the shock value of abortion can begin to fade when you fight the same fight year after year, decade upon decade. We know all too well the horrors of abortion, but after a while I have found myself getting numb to that harsh reality, tired of having to say the same thing over and over.

Enter my 12-year-old daughter, Olivia, who has not yet been jaded by the larger society's blasé view of unborn babies and its acceptance of abortion on demand. Children, it seems, know intuitively that there is something terribly wrong with abortion, something incomprehensible. They have not yet been entangled in the relentless drumbeat of "my body, my choice." They can still see clearly and with honesty.

Maybe it's because children are so much closer to life inside the womb. Maybe it's because they recognize the scary possibility that someone could have chosen to end their own life before it had begun. Maybe it's because children are so pure and untainted by cynicism and selfishness and fear that they recoil at the suggestion that anyone anywhere at any time would willingly choose to kill their unborn child and see it as the "better" option, the lesser of two evils.

It's not an easy thing, to sit down with your 10-year-old or 12-year-old or 16-year-old and talk about abortion. Even as a committed pro-lifer, discussing abortion feels like I am betraying them somehow, like my role in the adult human family ties me to this evil in our midst because I have been unable to stop it, because I have carried babies in my womb and should never ever become numb to the prospect of someone ending such a life. And my children stare at me incredulous, sure I can't be right about this, about the numbers, about the methods, about the reasons.

Up until now they've assumed--probably because they spend so much time in Catholic circles where people are mostly pro-life--that their view, our view is "normal" or popular, and I've had to tell them quite bluntly, especially as they begin to spread their wings and voice opinions in public, that they face an uphill battle, that they will be made to feel they are ignorant or intolerant or hateful because they believe a life that begins at conception should be protected and nurtured from that point until natural death. It's not easy to prepare your children for the awful words you know will be thrown at them if and when they decide to share their views as they get older. My 16-year-old son has already learned to be quiet in some instances at his public school rather than risk being branded a hater because he is pro-life.

What does that say about us, about our society, about this 40-year battle that shows no sign of letting up, especially in my own state of New York, where the radical so-called "Reproductive Health Act" is being pushed so fiercely by our governor that his State of the State address sounded more like a NARAL rally?

This is where we live, not just geographically, but spiritually, intellectually. We live in a collective mindset that refuses to listen to reason, refuses to listen to the science of ultrasound, refuses to listen to the heartbeat that proclaims the right to life with less fanfare but more power than any politician pounding out propaganda from a podium. But we can also hope that the world may yet learn to listen to the wisdom of children, who know better than we adults that, in the words of Dr. Seuss, "A person's a person, no matter how small."


Mary DeTurris Poust has written for Catholic and secular publications for nearly 30 years. She is the author of six books, including the recently released "Cravings: A Catholic Wrestles with Food, Self-Image, and God" and "Everyday Divine: A Catholic Guide to Active Spirituality." She blogs at Not Strictly Spiritual and is the co-host of "Guided by Grace," a show for Catholic women on Telecare TV. She lives in upstate New York with her husband and three children.

For the week of the 40th anniversary of Roe v. Wade, this blog is featuring guest posts by Catholic bloggers who participated in the November 2012 USCCB event, "An Encounter with Social Media: Bishops and Bloggers Dialogue."

Catholics Care. Catholics Vote: Poverty and Helping People to Flourish

"The poor you will always have with you, and whenever you wish you can do good to them," Jesus says in Mark's Gospel.

This would, at face value, seem like a fairly open-ended statement. But it gets a pretty heavy degree of specificity from the U.S. bishops in the introductory note to the reissued Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship, when the bishops cite "an economic crisis ... , increasing national and global unemployment, poverty, and hunger; increasing deficits and debt and the duty to respond in ways which protect those who are poor and vulnerable as well as future generations" as one of their six areas of concern going into the 2012 elections.

If these are issues that are supposed to matter to Catholics, the bishops have certainly led by example in this area. For the Church, political engagement isn't just about what happens in a voting booth in November; it's about consistently bringing one's values and perspective to the public discussion. The U.S. bishops have brought their values to the issues of debt, poverty, unemployment and hunger in numerous letters to leaders in Congress. The Vatican has even tackled the more overarching challenge of financial reform.

Of course, every Catholic is called to engage the political process, as voters, lawmakers, advocates, etc. And all Catholics are called to, as Jesus said, do good for the poor, through whatever means are at their disposal, whether they're a teacher educating the next generation, a banker engaging in responsible lending practices or a legislator shaping public policy that will impact millions of lives. In his encyclical Caritas in Veritate, Pope Benedict XVI called this the "institutional path of charity."

On this path, Catholic teaching places a crowded cast of characters, all with their own responsibilities: government, businesses, churches and other organizations, and individuals. The Church's vision for society involves all of these stakeholders working together in a way that allows people to flourish, living life with a sense of dignity and reaching the potential God intended for them. In Catholic terms, everyone has a responsibility to promote the common good. To keep this from becoming stifling or chaotic, the Church prescribes principles like solidarity and subsidiarity.

Solidarity is the recognition of the responsibility of everyone in society to care for those who are poor and vulnerable. (The words of Jesus in Matthew 25 put this in perspective by saying that feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, etc. are requirements for entering the kingdom.) Subsidiarity is the principle that says care for the poor -- and all human problems, in fact -- should be addressed at the lowest level possible and the highest level necessary. It promotes the robust network of relationships in society, from the individual to the global. It can be seen at work when, for instance, funding from the federal government goes to finance anti-poverty programs that are regulated and administered at the state or local level, often by charities, sometimes by Catholic charities.

The goal is always human flourishing. The tangled, interconnected mess of joblessness, the economy, poverty, etc. is a political concern for the bishops because it impacts the lives and dignity of so many. "Work is more than a way to make a living," the bishops write in Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship, "it is a form of continuing participation in God's creation." And as so many people struggle in financial hardship to regain that part of their lives, it becomes apparent that "The poor you will always have with you" isn't a license to ignore the poor or assume they will disappear when times improve for everyone. Rather it's a reminder of a duty shared by everyone and articulated by the bishops:  "The economy must serve people, not the other way around."

Catholics Care. Catholics Vote: Human Life and Dignity

A funny thing happened on the way to Mexico.

As John Allen reports, while speaking to the media aboard the papal plane at the start of his visit to Mexico, Pope Benedict XVI had some strong words for certain Catholics:

"Personally, in the individual square, they're Catholics, believers," the pope said. "But in public life they follow other paths that don't correspond to the great values of the Gospel which are necessary for the foundation of a just society. It's essential to educate people in order to overcome this schizophrenia, educating not only about individual morality but also public morality."

Allen points out that U.S. Catholics are probably used to this kind of rhetoric, mostly aimed at Catholic politicians who don't uphold the Church's teaching on abortion in public policy. He then notes that Pope Benedict was actually fielding a question about social justice and the gap between rich and poor and, in effect, had taken a principle associated with the Pro-Life movement and applied it consistently across a broader spectrum of issues.

The U.S. bishops do essentially the same thing in Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship, stating that every Catholic has a duty to bring the truth of the dignity of every human person into the public square and to guide their civic actions by assimilating what the Church teaches.

When it comes to what those teachings are, the bishops offer a complete, interconnected moral framework with the right to life and the dignity of the human person at its center. When the bishops apply this principle to the political issues of the day, they, like Pope Benedict, cast a broad net:

Human dignity opposes direct attacks on human life, whether that's the unborn baby or a civilian in a combat zone.

It opposes unjust discrimination, whether it's denying jobs, housing and other opportunities based on skin color or deciding that, due to age or illness, someone should be deliberately killed.

Human dignity says that people aren't to be used as a means to an end, whether that's cloning or destroying human embryos in the name of science, going to war without sufficient cause and subsequently torturing people in the name of national security, or deliberately snuffing out a life in the name of justice or compassion.

Finally, a belief in human dignity means no one can remain oblivious to widespread human suffering, whether it's genocide abroad or poverty at home. All of these are covered when the bishops call on Catholics to speak out consistently for human life and dignity.

Doing so, of course, isn't without its share of complications and grief, especially when it collides head-on with the traditional ideological divides of U.S. politics.

Addressing a Washington gathering in 2008, Archbishop Charles Chaput, then archbishop of Denver, mused that it seemed, "The people who attack me when I speak out against abortion are the same ones who praise me when I speak out in defense of immigrants." And vice versa. The archbishop wasn't demonizing immigrant supporters as pro-abortion or suggesting that pro-lifers are anti-immigrant, but rather illustrating the widespread need for greater consistency on human life and dignity issues.

John Carr, USCCB's executive director of Justice, Peace and Human Development, has noted that any Catholic who tries to live out Catholic teaching consistently in the public square is bound to feel "politically homeless" pretty quickly. The difficulty Catholics have dealing with this quandary is reflected in the fragmented, disparate political allegiances they settle for, often giving voice to a few concerns of the Church, but diluting or dulling its moral voice on others.

While it might be tempting to throw in the towel on this mess, that approach is too simplistic and turns its back on the duty of every Catholic to get involved. Just because Catholics are often as divided as the rest of the country doesn't mean they can't be a force for good. Just as Catholics are called to form their individual consciences, they can also serve as a voice of conscience to the entire political process. The key is not to speak from mere partisan or ideological agendas, but from the conviction that sees, in the words of the bishops, "all human beings as children of God."