A Parable for Our Times

U nfortunately, the U.S. Park Service no longer provides crowd counts, meaning there was no official guesstimate of the number assembled Jan. 22 for the annual March for Life in Washington, D.C. Although this cannot be said with absolute certainty, based on the 17 other marches I 've covered, I'm positive there were at least 100,000 joyous pro-life diehards in the procession that briskly moved from the Ellipse to the steps of the Supreme Court. The crowd size was so overwhelming, the sea of people spilled over from the streets onto the sidewalks. Everywhere you looked, there were pro-lifers chanting, singing, praying.

Amazingly, I did not observe even a single pro-abortion heckler along the way. Usually there are some very unpleasant characters who love to razz us.
In years past the only thing as certain as NARAL President Kate Michelman's annual Chicken Little speech was a freeze-frame shot in every newspaper showing a handful of pro-abortionists waving their placards as tens of thousands of pro-lifers streamed past the Supreme Court. Not this year.

While several newspapers I read carried quotes from pro-abortionists supposedly ensconced at the Supreme Court, their presence was so minuscule I could not even find them.

What to make of this non-appearance? A major reason, I would suggest, is that our opponents are growing weary. They have had very limited success recruiting younger women and the trendlines are not moving in their direction. Even the pro-abortion establishment is beginning to concede that attitudes are changing. (See below.)

While we can't look into their hearts, I have long believed that to traffic in the blood of unborn children and the misery of desperate women must sap their strength, leaving them bone-weary, riddled with guilt, and deeply unhappy. If that weren't bad enough, as they get older, holes will appear in the layers of defense mechanisms they have put on like coats to keep the chill from their hearts. Unbeckoned, memories they've managed to repress begin to invade even their dreams.

Pro-lifers are not immune to weariness. Our people are human beings, after all. But we are strengthened, sustained, and supported by our memories. You know you need never apologize for what you have done or try to keep it under lock and key in the attic of your soul for the work you have rendered is noble. I would like to offer a story, now permanently etched in my mind, which illustrates the point.

Last week was "Boy Scout Sunday" at our church, with all phases of the worship service led by Troop 295. Our scoutmaster preached half the message, our pastor (an Eagle scout himself) delivered the second half. Just prior, my son, David, led what we call Children's Time. The little ones listen to a mini-sermon geared to their age and interests before going to their own classes.

David chose the parable of the "talents." You'll recall that this is the story of the Master who before he goes away gives each of his three servants resources to invest. Two take what their Master gave them and invest wisely, doubling what he had entrusted them with; the third hides what he was given under a rock. Each then has to give an account when the Master returns.

In calling on the congregation to volunteer their services on behalf of our church's ongoing projects, Jim, our pastor, built upon David's insights, adding the imagery of a quilt. Repeatedly, he reminded the congregation that God can weave what we might see as small and insignificant - - mere "patches" - - into something that brings warmth and comfort to those in need.

Both David and Pastor Jim's observations are powerful metaphors that speak directly to what you have done on behalf of the vulnerable, the defenseless, and the unwanted.

Some pro-lifers are able to devote only a small portion of their time and talents to the greatest civil rights cause of our age. Others are able to assume greater responsibilities - - not a cause for pride but rather humility that we have been so honored. In either case, the task is to "invest" wisely what we have been given on behalf of the unborn. (Knowing pro-lifers I am confident none will ever hide those abilities under a rock.)

Collectively, our efforts are also like the bits of cloth that are woven together to make a lovely quilt. Individually they might not seem like much to us, but together they form a beautiful tapestry that protects life. This was made real to me last Sunday in a very profound way.

During Communion, we sang a hymn of commitment and dedication. I happened to look to my right, where I saw a little girl, one of our church's most adorable kids, a youngster who comes with us each month on our trip into Washington to distribute food and clothing to the homeless. Sometimes the men on the streets are not so happy to see us. But when she offers a cup of coffee or a blanket or a coat, no one can resist.

I watched in admiration as, without looking at the hymnal, she gamely sang (most) of the beautiful lyrics. The hymn painted a picture of sinners reaching out to God. More important, the words also assured us that He had been reaching out to us long before we thought to look to Him.

This child has cystic fibrosis. Her long-term prognosis is grim. But our congregation knows that whatever the outcome God will never abandon or forsake her. She is and always will be in His hands.

Whatever the day-to-day ebb and flow, the cause of unborn babies will prevail because you refuse to abandon these precious little ones or their mothers. That is why you never fall into the trap of pitting mother against child. On the contrary, your love for them both seamlessly weaves together compassion, concern, and comfort.

The Supreme Court's cursed Roe v. Wade decision made over 38 million little ones orphans in the eyes of the law. Refusing to stand idly by, you use your talents to convince millions of women that, while they may have the legal right to lethally evict their little ones, if they allow others to help they will come to understand that there is always a home in the heart for their tiny unborn children.

There are many desperate women out there who think no one cares that they have a crisis in their lives. Our goal must be to make sure they know that we have long been reaching out to women in situations just like theirs.

Each day in America the fate of thousands upon thousands of children hangs by a thread as troubled women weigh the choices. Will they choose life or death?

The great joy of being a pro-lifer is the quiet assurance that if we, in love, are fortunate enough to intersect the orbit of their crisis pregnancy we can alter its trajectory in the direction of life. What a blessing!

Please keep that foremost in your mind as together we gradually win the day for unborn children and their mothers.

dha