Each of Us is Called to Serve
Part Two of TwoBy Burke J. Balch, NRLC Academic
Director
Editor’s note. The following is
an address delivered to the graduates of the
NRLC Academy last Friday.
These are the times that try men’s souls. The
summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink
from the service of their country; but he that stands it now,
deserves the love and thanks of man and woman.
My friends:
Let us tonight openly face the stern
truth, directly and boldly: as we assemble for the graduation of the
Class of 2009 of the National Right to Life Academy, there is all
too much to unite our time with the darkest days of 1776 when Thomas
Paine penned those lines.
We have just seen the election of a
President who is so sworn a foe of the helpless children yet within
their wombs that he is pledged to support a bill that would strike
down all legislation that might meaningfully protect any of them
from violent death.
The foes of life confront us on every
side. To the demand for unabated abortions is now joined a swelling
call for euthanasia.
The cry of almost all the seats of
leadership, of the formers as of the purveyors of public opinion,
seems ever against the protection of the helpless and the
vulnerable.
Do we look to the scientists, to
illustrate with compelling proofs the humanity of the victims? The
National Academy of Sciences, the scientific journals, all the
organs of the scientific establishment, with rare exception instead
loudly agitate for inhuman experimentation upon the victims, and the
exploitation of their organs for transplant.
Do we look to the doctors, trained to
heal and schooled to save life? The American Medical Association,
which in the 19th Century led the effort to protect
unborn children, educating legislators and the public about their
living existence from the very moment of conception, today lends its
prestige and support to those of its members whose daily occupation
is to kill them.
Walk into virtually any campus, virtually
any newsroom, virtually any place where the educated, the
well-to-do, the elite gather, and dare to assert the human equality
of the very young, of those not yet born–and you will be met less
with rebuttal than with scorn.
My friends, in America of 2009, you will
know from all the organs of sophisticated opinion that abortion is
respectable–and that we in the pro-life movement are not.
It is, we think, the world turned upside
down. How can it be sophisticated and civilized to be
discriminatory, and beyond the bounds of respectability to insist on
human equality? How can it be sophisticated and civilized to be
violent, and beyond the bounds of respectability to call for loving
alternatives to violence? How can it be sophisticated and civilized
to dehumanize and destroy the helpless and vulnerable, and beyond
the bounds of respectability to seek their protection? How?
My friends, in history’s scale we are not
alone in lack of respectability. The well-known PBS series on the
Civil War included this quote from historian Barbara Fields:
Those appointed or self-appointed as
spokesmen for “respectable” opinion in the loyal states agreed [that
the war was an issue between free, white citizens: between unionists
and secessionists] even when they disagreed heatedly on the
conclusion to be drawn from it. Some might believe that property
rights, including rights to human property, must be held inviolable,
others that slavery must not be allowed to spread, yet others that
neither goal mattered compared to preserving the Union undisturbed.
Nevertheless, as respectable citizens of sound and practical sense,
all concurred that the aggrieved parties in the struggle of North
against South were white citizens, and that the issue should be
decided on the basis of what would best promote such citizens’
desires and interests.
But wars, especially civil wars, have a
way of making respectability scandalous and scandalousness
respectable, and that is just what the American Civil War did.
Abruptly, people whose point of view had never been respectable
became the voice not just of morality but of practical common sense
as well: abolitionists, black and white, calling not just for the
containment of slavery but for its eradication; free black people
demanding a right to take an active part in the war; and especially
the slaves themselves, insisting on the self-evident truth that
their liberty, like everyone else’s was . . . inalienable.
In 1844, James Russell Lowell wrote a
poem to summon his generation to the fight for what was right rather
than currently respectable:
Once to every man and nation, comes the moment to
decide,
In the strife of truth with falsehood,
for the good or evil side;
Some great cause, some great decision,
offering each the bloom or blight,
And the choice goes by forever, ‘twixt
that darkness and that light.
Then to side with truth is noble, when we
share her wretched crust,
Ere her cause bring fame and profit, and
‘tis prosperous to be just;
Then it is the brave man chooses while
the coward stands aside,
Till the multitude make virtue of the
faith they had denied.
For what truth, for what good, do we of
the pro-life movement fight? You will recall that in Roe v. Wade
Justice Blackman deemed it necessary, before elevating abortion to a
constitutional right, to try to discredit the Hippocratic Oath, by
which for millennia new physicians had pledged to refrain from
abortion and euthanasia. The great anthropologist Margaret Mead
wrote this about the epochal significance of that Hippocratic Oath,
now cast aside by contemporary medical schools who substitute far
other words for their graduation ceremonies:
For the first time in our tradition there
was a complete separation between killing and curing. Throughout
the primitive world, the doctor and the sorcerer tended to be the
same person. He with power to kill, had power to cure, including
specially the undoing of his own killing activities. He who had
power to cure would necessarily also be able to kill.
With the Greeks the distinction was made
clear. One profession, the followers of Asclepius, were to be
dedicated completely to life under all circumstances, regardless of
rank, age, or intellect. The life of a slave, the life of the
Emperor, the life of a foreign man, the life of a defective child.
This is a priceless possession which we
cannot afford to tarnish. But society always is attempting to make
the physician into a killer–to kill the defective child at birth, to
leave the sleeping pills beside the bed of the cancer patient.
It is the duty of society to protect the
physician from such requests.
The man who was assassinated in Ford’s
Theater right across the street from our headquarters, who died in a
building just two doors away from where we gather tonight, wrote
these words to the Congress:
Fellow citizens, we cannot escape
history. We of this . . . generation will be remembered in spite of
ourselves. No personal significance or insignificance can save one
or the other of us. What we do will light us down in honor or
dishonor to the latest generation. We shall nobly save, or meanly
lose, the last, best hope of earth.
Solemnly I assure you: each of you is
called to serve. In what role and in what manner your individual
contribution can best be given must depend on circumstances and your
own appraisal of your talents and opportunities. But whatever
particular way you are called to serve –
Let it never be said of this movement and
of your generation that when the time of testing came, you fell
away.
Let it rather be said, by the historians
of the 21st Century, that in the darkest hour– when the
fight for life seemed to tremble on the edge of being lost– a
stalwart band yet raised high the torch of truth and the lamplight
of compassion and with renewed effort and unremitting dedication
found somewhere and somehow the way again to turn the tide and stem
the age of death.
We have done our best to help you take
the torch of leadership from we who go before. And now, we send you
forth to bear onwards that torch of truth, that lamp of compassion–
that fight for life– with our blessing, our support, and our hope.
Part One |