That Which Has Breath

The Supreme Court has overturned Roe v. Wade. And I’m scared. I’m scared for all of the women and girls who will die in desperation. I am scared of all of the fear and shame that will live in more women and girls. I am scared that this is just the opening of a door that will lead to the ripping away of rights and protections of people in this country. And I’m scared that I am too exhausted to fight.

As people in a country that declares liberty and justice for all we are extremely disconnected. We’ve lost our way. We’ve come to find pleasure in the pain and misfortune of our fellow Americans. We’ve decided that our neighbor is now our enemy. Those who are celebrating the end of Roe v. Wade say that there are choices between sex and no sex, as if we are not created to be sexual human beings who have sex for pleasure, as if rape, incest, human trafficking, etc. doesn’t exist.

As an ordained clergywoman in the United Church of Christ, I am afraid that there is nothing new that I can say that would make anyone reconsider their position against abortion, but I will use my words anyway. When we encounter someone who seeks abortion, there is at minimum two people involved. The mother and the fetus. I’m not going to try to make a case at what stage a fetus is a human. I’m just going to say that there are two humans involved: the mother and the unborn. If I were to sit with a mother who was about to make this decision, I would have to say that I would have more compassion for the mother. As a human, I would find it extremely difficult to have more compassion for what I can’t see, touch, hold or witness lungs filled with the breath of the Holy Spirit. The person I must have more compassion for is the one that I can connect with, hug, cry with, and support. 

We’ve lost our compassion and empathy for the mother and instead claim it for that which has not taken a breath. Brené Brown says that “in order to empathize with someone’s experience, you must be willing to believe them as they see it, and not how you imagine their experience to be.” As a mother who easily became pregnant the two times I wanted to, who has health insurance, who takes birth control, who is in a loving and stable relationship, who is a whoopsie baby myself, I could easily project my experience as what other women could have if they made better choices.

But I know, my story isn’t anyone else's but my own. My story, my experience, what I think I would do if I was in that situation, doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is my ability to make a connection with another human, living and breathing person, especially in their moments of utmost vulnerability. 

Jesus’s command to love neighbor is not an easy way to live and follow Christ. It’s a lot more difficult to love the neighbor next store who you don’t agree with because she had an abortion, than it is to love someone that does not even yet exist. Our lectionary text from last Sunday in Galatians 5 says it all, “serve one another in works of love, since the whole of the Law is summarized in a single command: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ If you go on snapping at one another and tearing each other to pieces, be careful, or you may end up destroying the whole community.”