Abortion, War, and Capital Punishment

I would, however, highlight a basic issue: the need for an attitude or atmosphere in society which is the pre-condition for sustaining a consistent ethic of life. … We intend our opposition to abortion and our opposition to nuclear war to be seen as specific applications of this broader attitude. We have also opposed the death penalty because we do not think its use cultivates an attitude of respect for life in society. The purpose of proposing a consistent ethic of life is to argue that success on any one of the issues threatening life requires a concern for the broader attitude in society about respect for human life. [1]

These words from the late Cardinal Archbishop of Chicago unveil the pro-life inconsistency of many: we simply aren’t pro-life.  We’re anti-abortion. [This conversation began in an earlier blog post] I say this, because our conversations seem to ceaselessly begin and end with abortion.  We want to discuss at what point life begins in utero.  We argue that abortifacient drugs are no better or worse than a late-term abortion.  We describe and even visually depict the horrors of abortion.  [As an aside, if abortion is as evil as you say it is, don’t post pictures of it.  One can know evil without seeing it.] Yet abortion is not the issue.  Life is the issue.

Something unique happened in my brain a few weeks before our son was born.  I started thinking about the process of life: its conception, gestation, and eventual emergence into the world.  I began anticipating what it might be like, as a father, to promote the life and well-being of my son.  And I realized something!  Life is a difficult thing to maintain.  Sure, babies are resilient–but find one woman who thinks bringing life into the world is a process that takes no effort.  And then, sustaining life in a child post-birth takes time, effort, love, money, and of course prayer.  Every person alive on this planet has someone, whether a parent or family member, a guardian or a friend, and ultimately a God, who cared enough about them to work at keeping them alive.  This is why we call it a tragedy when a person’s life is cut short before their time.  When you meet any human being on this earth, you are meeting a person deeply loved by someone.

So when any person is killed, their death is not a passing matter.  Statistics and news reports can make us think that way, but we must disavow this bent and broken attitude.  The death of any person shatters someone’s world.  Think of the labor of love that was that person’s time in the womb, in the cradle, in the schoolhouse, and in young adulthood.  Remember the discipline of the parent–the disappointment of lost love–the joy of a birthday party–the rest after a job well done.  All these moments, treasured by the ones who sustained this person, remind us that this person is just that: a person whose life is precious!  Regardless of how they die–in war, in famine, or on death row–step into their lives and see that they are not the two-dimensional villains we have made them to be.  They are living people who are valued by someone.

This is not a matter of mere sentimentality, nor is it a philosophical argument.  It is an attempt to glimpse the heart of the God who sustains life.  We want to glimpse the heart of God, because we know that our own hearts are crooked.  Our hearts are machines created for love and easily turned to killing.  And I guess that’s the whole point.  When it comes to abortion, war, and capital punishment, it’s easy to make a quick, snap judgment.  Every one of us has the heart to pull the trigger, given the right environmental factors.  But do you have the conviction to pull the trigger?  That’s a very different thing.  Because when you enter the voting booth, I hope you realize that your finger is on the syringe, the trigger, and the button.  We are culpable for permitting our neighbors and authorities to participate in these practices–some of which are not being done ethically (e.g. see the comments on race and capital punishment here).

If we are truly mindful of the sanctity of life, we’ll begin to think more about life.  We’ll begin to pull these conversations out of the world of the philosophical abstract and into flesh and blood.  We’ll stop dealing with the fleeting passions of the heart, which is so easily bent toward killing, and begin praying for God to give us godly convictions–convictions that stand in the voting booth–convictions that are willing to stand in protest for something.  Because what’s more important than our views on abortion, war, and capital punishment is a dedication to promoting life at any cost.