Whenever we offer preborn babies (of the silicone
kind) on our Education Table, people naturally gravitate toward them more than
any other part of our display. They pick them up, turn them around, marvel at
the fully formed, anatomically correct features, and seem to discover anew the
miracle and sanctity of human life. We
encourage them to take one with them and use it to share the pro-life message.
At a recent event, a woman explained that she needed
another 12-week baby, not because she gave hers away or because she misplaced
it, but because her cat had actually “stolen” it.
At first, she worried her pet would use it as toy,
perhaps chewing on it or scratching it.
But that’s not what happened at all.
Rather, she saw the feline gently carrying the baby around the house, positioning it gingerly in her jaws, just as mama cat carries kittens. She snuggled with the baby when she slept, cradling it, and remained ever so protective of the baby when awake.
A common house cat recognized the inherent worth of a preborn baby, while so many humans fail to do so.
The natural instinct, whether animal or human, is to
protect life, born or unborn.
It is an instinct with which we are born. Ask a toddler what’s in mommy’s belly and she
will tell you “a baby.” No equivocation on the humanity or level of
development or wantedness. She will tell
you the unfiltered truth.
So at what point do people who support abortion forget
this self-evident truth? What impels them to violate the innate tendency to
protect, defend, nurture?
In a world that seems to protect puppies more than babies, that seems to elevate animals over humans, perhaps we should look to the animal kingdom to remind us of a fundamental fact: we mammals are wired to protect and defend life, not reject and destroy. We are made to love.
Rep. Kate Klunk, R-York, advocates for Down syndrome protection in the womb.
On June 9, the Pennsylvania House of Representatives passed a bill that would ban abortions solely because of a prenatal diagnosis of Down syndrome. This pro-life victory served as a small but significant step to promote the dignity of all human life.
The bill, known as House Bill 1500, was introduced by Rep. Kate Klunk, R-York, in December 2020.
“Most of us know of a family touched by a Down syndrome child, and know these children grow to lead joyful and fulfilling lives,” Klunk said when introducing the bill.
In current Pennsylvania law, it is legal for a woman to
receive an abortion prior to 24 weeks gestation for any reason deemed necessary
by a physician, with the exception of selecting the sex of the child. This bill
will broaden that restriction through the same means in the case of a positive
Down syndrome diagnosis.
“People with Down syndrome are living longer than ever and they’re happier than most of us,” said Rep. Kathy Rapp. “So why are many of them being aborted, why? It’s a curious and heart-wrenching question, because there never has been a better time in all of history for people with Down syndrome.”
“We need to stand up for those who do not have a voice here
in Pennsylvania,” added Klunk. “And that’s what this bill does. We have the
responsibility to stand up for those children who receive that Down Syndrome
diagnosis in the womb, and we shouldn’t allow them to be discriminated against because
they have one extra chromosome.”
Rep. Paul Schemel acknowledged unborn babies with Down Syndrome as falling under the Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990, which protects the disabled from discrimination in all areas of public life, including jobs, schools, transportation, and public/private affairs. “The principle underlying the legally protected classes is that we don’t treat certain people differently because of their condition, be it race, sex, disability, etc. We don’t treat the disabled differently just because they are disabled. That would be wrong.”
The bill came through the House with a passing vote of 120-83,
a major victory for the pro-life movement. But why is it so significant?
The reason is not only because unborn babies with Down
syndrome are receiving justice and protection, but the bill itself is one of
the first steps to shift the focus of the abortion movement from the woman
alone to the unborn child in her womb. Once we can shine a small light on the
humanity and life of the unborn, we can open a door to complete, undeniable
justice for them all.
May we continue to pray for our state senators, as they
prepare to vote on the Down syndrome bill in the weeks to come. May we pray
that Governor Wolf may also begin to see this bill in a different light. And
may we continue, one small step at a time, to proclaim the humanity in all
unborn life.
This article was originally published in the Summer 2020 edition of LifeLines and is re-published in honor of Father’s Day.
My dad was a Marine.
That alone tells you something about my childhood. We woke on first call, ate what we put on our
plate, and attempted perfect corners when making beds.
Although my father spent just three years in the
Marines, his service would have a lifelong impact on him and the family he
would make. The military gave my dad,
whose own father died when he was just eight, structure, discipline, and pride
in a job well done. These qualities would influence how he and we would live.
My dad also played ball with us, made our tea every
morning, and without so many words, showed us he loved us. He endured the loss
of his 16 year-old daughter as well as his oldest grandchild, and due to an
injury sustained during his military service, retired on disability earlier
than he would have liked. Life’s trials toughened but never defeated him. At
times, he seemed indomitable.
When I was 19, I saw a different side to my dad, one
that surprisingly emerged after having my first child.
Suddenly the man I was afraid to ask for the car, the
dad who stayed awake until everyone was home in bed, the meticulous Marine who trained
us to put everything where it belonged, was magically transformed into a big,
soft teddy bear of a Papa. All because
of a little baby girl who came into our lives at a most unexpected time.
I won’t lie. He was not happy when my now-husband and
I told him we were pregnant. But it didn’t take long for him to model the resilience
he’d demonstrated his whole life. He and my mom would support us under one
condition: I went back to school to finish my degree.
Growing up poor and without a dad, he’d never had a
chance at an education. And he wasn’t
going to let mine slip by.
He would care for our baby when I was in class. As the youngest of five, I had a hard time picturing
this because I had never seen my father even hold a baby, much less care for
one.
Then she arrived. Suddenly, the strong disciplinarian
who raised me was now held captive by a newborn weighing not even seven pounds.
With her, he was gentle, attentive, nurturing, and
even silly. My invincible and sometimes rigid father transformed into a doting and
whimsical grandfather, and for the first time revealed a vulnerability I had
never before seen.
The miracle and power of new life!
When we had our son three years later, my father helped watch both kids while I completed my Master’s Degree. He thrived on being a caretaker to them, and they thrived under his care. A special bond was formed with them, and subsequently, with all 16 of his grandchildren. “Papa” was his new vocation and he embraced it with the same enthusiasm he had embraced military life.
So it was especially hard for all of us to watch our
family patriarch, the soldier-caretaker, enter into his final battle combatting
Stage 4 Mesothelioma. Given just a few months to live, he defied the prognosis
by actively living for a full year.
Eventually, though, hospice care did become necessary.
Remaining true to self, he offered gentle instruction to the home health aide
on how to properly make a bed. Once a Marine…
He ultimately lost the battle. He entered into eternal
rest on May 1 after bidding us all good night and gently dismissing us from his
room…Always a Marine.
A man of deep faith, he leaves a rich prolife legacy
that the gift of self, whether to country or to family or even to the stranger
we encounter, is the noblest of callings. A lesson deeply ingrained in us by
his example.
Playwright John Hoover remembers a moment long ago, when a
spark was ignited inside him. Little did he know that years later, that spark would
blossom into the life-altering reality known as Viable the play.
In 1984, when attending a pro-life symposium in California,
Hoover listened to a woman speak out about her experiences as a former
abortionist. This woman was from the Middle East and had been performing
abortions for years before her eyes were opened to the painstaking reality of
abortion.
“God took the scales off her eyes,” said Hoover. “She
realized what she was doing and quickly became a pro-life advocate”.
The woman described that in early days, abortion failures
were common, which resulted in physically impaired and developmentally-challenged
children being born alive. To prevent potential lawsuits, procedures were
developed to ensure that the baby in the womb would be undoubtedly dead.
After listening, Hoover couldn’t help but wonder: “what would the world be like if women were
told the truth of abortion?”
He remembered reading a survey which first informed women about the procedures done to abort an unborn child. Afterwards, they asked if the women would still obtain an abortion. 90 percent of women responded “no.”
This alarming response gave Hoover an idea, one that he carried with him for 25 years. In 2019, he finally put it on paper.
According to the play’s website, “The Viable storyline captures an unforgettable confrontation as an aborted child visits her mother nearly 30 years later. The mother has carried guilt and grief for all that time, trying all the while to protect her emotional stability by professing the mantras that abortion providers originally used to comfort her”.
With nothing but three actors and two chairs, Viable invites viewers on a journey of
continued healing as Judy, the mother, searches for a ray of hope after walking
for decades in post-abortive shame and regret.
When asked about the primary audience, Hoover said that when
writing the play, he assumed that it would be targeted at women who had lost
children to abortion. However, everything changed on the very first night of
the production, during a scene when Judy rushes through the audience in a
dramatic exit.
Gisele Gathings, who plays Judy in the production, remembers
seeing a man walking out of the audience in tears. By the time she rushed out
of the theater, the man was standing in the lobby, sobbing.
“I wanted to comfort him!” Gathings recalled. “But I had to
get to my next scene.”
Gathings has observed that an abortion does not just affect women. Rather, all family members—fathers, grandparents, children, husbands, are part of the story, too.
“Delving into the emotions, the negative emotions of how
abortion doesn’t just affect the woman that is post abortive, but also the
family members that are involved. The cycle that passes down when abortion is
in a family, not just one person having more than one abortion, but also family
members following in the footsteps.”
To Gathings, the theme of Viable
is not abortion, but redemption through Christ.
“It is bigger than abortion. This (abortion) can lead to
various different issues and pain where people need healing. Jesus is about
life more abundantly, but also about us choosing
him and the choices we have to make. For me, Viable touches on dealing with and bringing up the pain that needs
to be healed and addressed.”
Both Gathings and Hoover hope that this play may be what
inspires families to begin conversations about their own abortion experiences,
so that feelings of hatred, betrayal and regret might be replaced with
forgiveness, grace and love.
Hoover is also excited to announce that the Viable tour is back in action. After months of show dates being cancelled due to the COVID-19 pandemic, Viable plans to resume its tour across the United States, with new dates and locations being added every day. The play will also be performed at this year’s National Right to Life Convention in Washington, D.C., on Thursday, June 24th. For more information, visit http://www.viableplay.org/.
Today I offer you some alarming food-for-thought: we are
living in a society in which people have the authority to determine that one
human being is more worthy of life than another.
Pennsylvania Representative Kate A. Klunk introduced legislation that would amend the Abortion Control Act to prohibit the abortion of a child solely because the child has been diagnosed with Down syndrome. Last session, the bill passed the House with a bipartisan vote of 117-76. Though it passed in the Senate as well, it was ultimately rejected after being vetoed by Governor Tom Wolf. However, Klunk is not going to let down that easily—she just reintroduced a similar bill known as House Bill 1500.
For those who may not know, Down syndrome is the most common
chromosomal disorder in the United States. According to the CDC, the condition affects
about 1 in every 700 births. Children with Down syndrome experience a variety
of social and intellectual disabilities, as well as a range of medical
complications. They are generally identified by physical characteristics such
as eyelids that slant upwards, decreased muscle mass, and a trademark crease
through the palms of the hands.
Aside from physical identifiers, those with Down syndrome
experience cognitive and social impairments that can vary in degree.
Over a hundred years ago, Down syndrome was a dismal
diagnosis for new parents. In 1910, children with Down syndrome typically did not
live past the age of nine. That life
expectancy soon increased to 20 years with the discovery of antibiotics, and
now, the majority of Down syndrome adults live to be older than 60.
Today, people with Down syndrome are diving into their
communities in ways never thought possible. They work in schools, health care
facilities, and all throughout the work force, and they engage in a variety of
recreational activities like music and sports. They are university
graduates, professional musicians, fashion designers, business owners and
professional athletes. In addition to these, however, those with Down syndrome
have always been friends, family members, neighbors and members of our
communities.
As writer Ziad Abdelnour wrote, “Success is not found in what
you have achieved, but rather in who you have become”.
In a research survey of over 3,000 family members and people with the disability, nearly 90 percent of siblings indicated that they feel like they are better people because of a sibling with Down syndrome.
If you’re like me, you might know of several people with Down
syndrome in your community. You are familiar with the way they can light up a
room the moment they walk in. You might remember a sense of humor, a unique
personality, or a refreshingly optimistic outlook on life. Just like many
others, those with Down syndrome can radiate a sense of joy that can impact
anyone they cross paths with, perhaps for the rest of their lives.
Currently in Pennsylvania, the only limitation to abortion
per the Abortion
Control Act is for sex-selective abortions. This seems self-explanatory—no person
has the right to deny the pursuit of life to another person based solely on the
discrimination of gender. The question left standing is: what makes Down syndrome
any different?
