There I was, waiting in line at Gus’s market with a few groceries for the evening’s supper, when a man about my age came in, saw me dressed in my clericals, pointed a finger at me, and came over to say that abortion is always wrong and women who have them and people who help are equally at fault.
This guy was of the type who wanted only to give his opinion and not engage in much of a dialogue. I was able to say that I hope God’s compassion and mercy outweigh whatever God’s sense of right and wrong and punishment is. But the man pressed on. They’re all going to hell, he said. Only God gives life, and only God can take it away. I countered that isn’t it also God’s decision, not ours, to decide who is going to hell. Put yourself in the shoes of the other, I suggested. He didn’t make the leap to imagining himself as a pregnant woman. He put himself in the position of the physician and said that he’d never perform an abortion.
I’m still not sure if he saw me, a priest, as an ally who would reassure him, or what. He said he had to go and scurried off. I didn’t have the chance to tell him that I know several women who have had abortions for a variety of well-considered reasons, even as the decisions were difficult, and I trust that they’re all right with God, and God with them. I didn’t have the chance to tell him that I once paid for an abortion from my rector’s discretionary fund.
The woman was an off-and-on regular at our soup kitchen. She was pushing 40, had a young child that she could barely manage, and was living with the man who got her pregnant (he was abusive, but he provided her a place to live – a seedy, extended-stay motel). She admittedly could barely care for herself. Sometimes I had to talk her and her child down from their disruptive behaviors during lunch. There’s no way I can have this baby, she said. Could you help?
She told me where the clinic was and called them to let them know that I would come the day before her abortion to pay the bill. The clinic was a storefront in a strip mall on the edge of town. It was licensed and proper … and known to the anti-abortion protestors. When I got out of my car, wearing my clericals, a lone protestor called to me from across the parking lot, asking what my business was and calling me to repentance and conversion for the sin I was committing and abetting. The receptionist buzzed me in, I showed my identification and said who I was there for. She took my credit card, ran the payment, and handed me the receipt. That was it for me. The woman went the next day and terminated her pregnancy.
The Episcopal Church does not have one firm stance on abortion, unlike many other Christian denominations. Some clergy and lay people are adamantly anti-abortion. Others are adamantly pro-choice. We Episcopalians trust the individual conscience on such matters, and our clergy will (or should) offer kind and generous counsel when asked. And yes, if it is within a priest’s own conscience and means, we may help financially as I did.
God’s blessings and peace,
Dan +
+A post-script: a few days after I wrote this, I received in the mail the latest issue of The Anglican Theological Review. The issue is dedicated to scholarly essays abortion and the Episcopal Church. I read about some of the resolutions past General Conventions adopted and several articles framing the Episcopal/Anglican theological understanding of and pastoral and liturgical approaches with people who have had abortions. It is a fascinating and timely read.
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