One of my closest friends terminated her pregnancy nearly a decade ago. At the advice of her doctor and in discussing the pregnancy with her husband, she ultimately chose to end the life that was being formed inside her.
I love her, and that will never change. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, I know she believes she made the best decision for herself and her marriage. She has repeatedly declared that the abortion was a compassionate response to the baby forming in her womb who would, had she been brought to term, face a lifetime of medical complications, including Downs Syndrome.
I wish my friend had chosen differently.
She will tell me, when the discussion comes up, that I don’t understand, and that as a celibate man I never will. She tells me that no one – including our government – should be able to interfere with a woman’s reproductive rights. She tells me that this issue is THE issue of our time, and we must as a nation stand-up for a woman’s bodily autonomy.
You know as well as I do that the pro-life response to such arguments is usually this: What about the child’s autonomy? Why is that unique life being snuffed out, regardless of how that life came into existence?
In the end, then, it seems – at least on the surface -- to be a battle between two opposing goods: the rights of a woman to choose what she allows to happen within her own body and the rights of a life begun in the womb to be actualized and lived outside the womb.
Obviously, we know where the Church stands: that comes as no surprise. Our Church always has and always will be that voice for the unborn. She will always claim that every society is built on the bedrock of defending the ones who have no voice; fighting for the ones that can’t fight for themselves.
Because of our recent history of child abuse within the ranks of Roman Catholic clergy the world over, our voice as Church is usually ignored, to our forever shame. We needed to do better for our children, quite frankly, and if we had, then perhaps our advocacy on behalf of the defenseless and voiceless from the womb to those who suffer at the end of life might not be brushed off as unimportant or hypocritical.
Yet here we are in 2024: most ignore the Church when it comes to matters of morality.
My role as pastor – and the heart of the Church’s mission – is to make missionary disciples who live the commands of God and the teachings of Christ, no matter how hard they may be. Christ was always about forming our consciences and our lives to reflect his, and to open us to His saving grace. That’s it.
Thus, I do believe that today’s Gospel offers a way to address who we want to be as a Church, as a society and as a people who want to support both women and life in all its vulnerable stages. Interestingly, the advice comes as he finds his cherished disciples arguing with each other about a matter of importance: who’s the greatest.
Jesus responds: You want to be great? Then drink from the cup.
Drinking from the cup was the culmination of Christ’s mission of love and salvation for us, his beloved. He drank from the Cup of Suffering at the Last Supper, knowing full-well that he would take on the effects of every sin we would ever commit so that we didn’t have to pay the price for them. He drank from the Cup of Sacrifice while on the Cross, drinking deeply to the dregs of the chalice so that we would be set free from hell in all its many manifestations, both in life and in the life to come.
His final words, in fact, were ones that indicate how deeply he drank from the Cup of Suffering and Sacrifice: “I thirst” -- I thirst for life, not death. For healing, not slavery to sin. For love and true freedom, not hatred and division.
As He has done, so must we: Will you and I drink from the same Cup?
If we claim to do so – or want to do so – then there is only one conclusion: we have to serve the least among us. The voiceless. The forgotten. The ones that are often considered inconvenient.
And for us, as Church, that includes both the woman and the unborn child.
Most of the world repeats the lie that all the Catholic Church cares about is the embryo in the womb, not what happens beyond birth.
But I want to call out the lie of Satan when it comes to this Church he hates. There is no organization anywhere that does as much for women who face crisis pregnancies than the Roman Catholic Church. We are the ones who run shelters for women with children; our pregnancy resource centers are second-to-none; and when state governments don’t try to limit us due to our beliefs on marriage, we have an incredible adoption resource program.
We also are the one who help women pick-up the pieces after an abortion: when they believed doing so would fix a relationship or quiet the raging fear within. From my experience working with Project Rachel, abortion never fully solves anything – although it may seem to in the immediate tempest of emotion, fear and uncertainty.
To that point, though, we also have to renew our efforts to listen to the real experiences of women who are pregnant and believe they can’t carry a child to term. As Church, we must not close doors to listening and accompaniment when women say their bodily autonomy matters – what’s truly at the heart of that belief? We have to fight for better child-support structures within society, especially for women who choose life. We must accompany mothers and fathers beyond the time of birth in order that they come to feel support, love, and the courage needed to drink from the Cup of Sacrifice. For that’s really what it is: a woman who chooses life is drinking the Cup of Sacrifice. A man who doesn’t run from his responsibility is drinking from the Cup, as well. We can’t leave them alone in that before, during or after the delivery room.
We also can’t abandon the woman who chooses differently, just as Jesus never abandoned those who made heartbreaking and sometimes very broken choices in their lives.
Next month as American citizens, we will be asked to vote for our future president, knowing that the one elected will make decisions about how we as a nation define the rights of women, the unborn, the disabled and the elderly. My vocation as priest is not to tell you for whom you should vote; but as one who is responsible for the souls our Lord has entrusted to me, I am asked to remind you of the sacred obligation of forming your conscience in the way Christ and His Church would have us do. Pray for our country. Fast these next weeks for a virtuous leader. Don’t leave Christ out of your decision when you enter the polling station. He should inform everything we do, not just regulate 50 minutes on a Sunday.
And for my Maryland parishioners, please let me ask you to carefully consider Question #1 on the upcoming ballot. From all that I have read, it is asking us to enshrine abortion as a constitutional right but whose wording is vague and could be dangerous for pregnancy resource centers like the one here in Cecil County as well as for the conscience rights of Catholic hospitals, medical providers and all people of faith. The Church is asking us to vote “No” on that question. I’ll leave it to your prayer and conscience formation to make that decision.
If I may, I’d like to end with a story that puts much of this challenge in perspective. Last weekend, I returned to my parish church for its 175th anniversary celebration, the very parish where I was raised, educated and returned to teach. It was and will always be home for me.
As I walked up the well-worn steps into the vestibule, the very first person to greet me was a young woman by the name of Erin. She is about 30 now, but was 12 when I first got to know her. She immediately ran up to me, hugged me with all her might, and told me how much she missed and loved me.
To think: the very first person that welcomed me back to my parish home after having been away for quite a while was a young lady who might not be here had her mom not been willing to drink from the Cup.
Erin has Downs Syndrome. Her health is not always great. There are many daily challenges, and will be for the rest of her life’s journey.
But I just can’t imagine living in a world where Erin doesn’t exist.
As I watched Erin serve Mass last Sunday, I also caught glimpses of her Mom, a woman who undoubtedly was told that life would be easier if termination happened; a woman who had to wrestle with the fears and anxieties that come with raising a special-needs child. All mothers do, that’s for sure.
And yet, there in pew four near the Blessed Mother statue sat a woman who chose to drink from the Cup and who gave a voice to one who the world might say doesn’t deserve to have one. I watched her smile as Erin brought the bishop his crosier, a seemingly insignificant moment but one that meant the world to her little girl. It was a moment of pure joy for mother and daughter. A moment of joy for the entire congregation.
Ultimately, the choice is never easy when it comes to such decisions related to life. It’s never easy to drink from the Cup.
But we must help those who do. We must continue to love those who choose not to.
As the Letter to the Hebrews reminds us: “Let us confidently approach the throne of grace to receive mercy and to find grace for timely help” – especially for the voiceless, the powerless, and those who need us to be their advocates.
Especially for those like Erin and her mom.
They need us now to be their voice more than ever before.