Texting, abortion and Band-Aids.

Texting and driving.

Not to do it is a no-brainer. Am I right, or am I right?

Wrong. People text and drive all the time. This is because people don’t know how to wait.

In my state, the fight for a law that bans it has been in the news for years. And there are a couple of things about this that boggle my mind.

First, that a law designed to make texting while driving illegal is shot down. Second, that there needs to be a law.

A law, while when necessary is good, is also like a Band-Aid. This is because the problem is not that it is legal to text and drive. The problem is that we are raising people who need to be told not to text and drive.

Apparently, we as a culture are not instilling in our children the values or the sense that make a person able to conclude on his or her own that it is a bad idea to text and drive. Apparently, we are instilling in them the opposite: that you, your needs, your wants come first. Which is why kids become adults who don’t know how to wait.

So a law that makes it illegal to text and drive is a Band-Aid. It aims to make the result of the problem disappear, but it doesn’t solve the problem.

The other law fight I hear about a lot is the one to ban abortion. And that law is like a Band-Aid, too. It aims to make the result of the problem disappear, but it doesn’t make the problem disappear.

This is because the problem is not that it is legal to abort a baby. The problem is that we are raising people who need to be told it’s a bad idea to have sex when you aren’t prepared to be a parent.

Apparently, we as a culture are not instilling in our children the values or the sense that make a person able conclude on his or her than that sometimes, it is better not to have sex. In fact, we are instilling in them the opposite: that you, your needs, your wants come first. Which is why kids become adults who don’t know how to wait.

What if our culture raised kids who could wait?

Abortion, contraception and egocentrism.

A day or two before the start of winter break, my high school class congregated in our English teacher’s classroom. We were freshmen. From her desk, the teacher described for us the food she planned to prepare for her family’s impending Christmas dinner.

“Our turkey is already thawing,” she said.
I shook my head and furrowed my brow and my jaw probably dropped.
“A turkey?” I laughed. “Who eats turkey on Christmas?”
I scanned the room and waited for signs of solidarity from my (now awkwardly) silent classmates.
One of them finally spoke.
“Um… everyone?”
Taken aback, I couldn’t concoct a response. Everyone eats turkey on Christmas? I thought. No way.
Somebody else had to ask: “What do you eat on Christmas?”
“Lasagna…” I said. “I thought everyone did!” 
Red in the face but a good sport about it, the incident ended in laughter. I’ve shared the story before, but it warrants a retelling, as it’s a great illustration of egocentrism. Egocentric describes a person when he or she lives like what’s normal for him or her is (or should be) normal for everyone, like the way he or she perceives something is how something is (or should be) universally perceived. So it’s egocentric, for instance, to assume that because my family eats lasagna on Christmas, all families eat lasagna on Christmas.
Egocentrism is normal in childhood and adolescence. Kids still have a lot to learn.
Apparently, so do adults.
Twice today, I stumbled upon online commentary — one post about abortion and one post about contraception — written by people whose opinions on both are, basically, the exact opposite of mine. To sum up both arguments, the abortion writer asserted that consenting to sex is not consenting to pregnancy and that because sex and procreation are disconnected in our culture now, we ought to treat them like they should be. The contraception writer asserted that a woman deserves the right to control her fertility and any other perspective (i.e. that of my church) is an assault on people who have vaginas.
(For the record, I have one, and I do not feel assaulted.)
But to the point:
I’m reminded of some of the people I’ve encountered whose opinions also oppose the aforementioned two — the people who hold up signs with pictures of aborted babies on them, who picket in effort to see Roe v. Wade reversed, who say bad things to and about the women who choose to use the pill.
There’s always been, and always will be, a lot of argument between both sides.
Like…
“It’s just a bunch of cells.” v. “It has a soul.”
and
“Sex is recreational.” v. “Sex is for babies and bonding.”
You catch my drift.
Well I’ve reached a point at which I’m pretty frustrated with both sides.
Why?
Because of egocentrism.
Because you have the half who believe it’s just a bunch cells telling the half that believes it’s a baby that abortion ain’t no thang because it’s just a bunch of cells. You have the half who believe it’s “my body, my choice” telling the half that believes our bodies are not our own that we should be pro-choice because these are our bodies and therefore our choices.
Then you have the half that believes a baby in utero has as much value as the woman in whose uterus it grows telling the half that believes if it’s in utero it isn’t a baby… that abortion is wrong because it results in the death of a baby. You have the half that believes “it’s ok to have sex when you’re not fertile, but it’s not ok to turn off your own fertility” because it turns sex from selfless (as it should be) to self-focused telling the half that doesn’t believe sex should be selfless that we ought not to control our fertility, lest we turn sex into a selfish act.
In other words, you have a bunch of people saying “Because I believe X, you should live your life like X is true.”
So basically, you have a bunch of people living like what’s normal for them (like the belief that what’s inside a pregnant woman’s uterus is a baby) should be normal for everyone, and like the way he or she perceives something (that sex is recreational, for instance) is how it should be universally perceived.
And there are two hunches I have about this.
1. That there is an incredible lack of empathy for each other on both sides.
Try for a second to see the world through the eyes of somebody whose opinion is the opposite of yours. Because if I believed what’s inside a pregnant woman’s uterus is just a bunch of cells, I’d think abortion ain’t no thang, too. And if you believed what’s inside her uterus is a baby — no matter how small — your heart would break, too, every time you hear about an abortion. Stop arguing and start talking. Say, “I feel this way because I believe X.” Invite the person who disagrees with you to empathize with you, and offer them empathy, too — even if they don’t. It goes a long way.
and
2. That on both sides, this is actually less of a fight for rights and more of a set of impassioned efforts to turn the world into one where believing what you believe will be easy.
I only can speak for my side — that is, the side that is for neither abortion nor contraception — when I say this, but I have seen so much judgment and so little modeling. If we are going to be pro-life, we ought to be pro-life consistently. What is life-giving about wearing a grim reaper costume outside an abortion clinic? What is life-giving about parading across a college campus with pictures of aborted babies? And why is it that we really fight for the reversal of Roe v. Wade? “Too many abortions” is not the problem. Abortion is a symptom, and the reversal of Roe v. Wade would be a Band Aid. So do we fight for its reversal because we want to see an end to abortion, or is it because we want the world to validate what we believe?
Do we engage in wars with each other because we’re trying to change the world for the better, or because we’re trying to change the world into us?
Do we want laws and institutions to cater to us because we’re right and they’re wrong, or because we’re dying to live where it’s always safe to believe what we believe?
(Note to self: it’s never gonna be.)

Books in 2012: unPLANNED

unPLANNED: The dramatic true story of a former Planned Parenthood leader’s eye-opening journey across the life line is — as of this afternoon — the eleventh book I’ve read in 2012.

The book (written with Cindy Lambert) is by and about Abby Johnson, a woman who worked for Planned Parenthood for years, until shortly after she assisted in an ultrasound-guided abortion. During the procedure, she held the ultrasound probe on the patient’s belly and watched the unborn baby react to the cannula (the tube used to remove a fetus from a uterus). Her life (and her values and career) changed instantly.

It says a lot about unPLANNED (and/or about my taste in books) that I read it in under 24 hours. I started it last night, slept with it in my hands and finished it today under the porch fan by the light of the afternoon sun. I found the book fabulous, as a Roman Catholic Christian, and as a woman, and as a writer, and as a mental health professional. Johnson shares her experience of becoming a Planned Parenthood volunteer and employee, of encountering the Coalition for Life (a pro-life organization a couple doors down from the Planned Parenthood where Johnson worked in Bryan, TX) and of discovering over time that the Coalition’s goals resonated more with her than Planned Parenthood’s did.

Some thought provoking excerpts (sometimes followed by commentary):

A talking point Johnson would use while employed by Planned Parenthood, to explain part of the organization’s purpose: 

“The only way to reduce the number of abortions is to reduce the number of unintended pregnancies. The only way to reduce the number of unintended pregnancies is to provide additional funding for contraception.” -page 42

Um, I can think of at least one other way. (Just sayin’.) In the book, Johnson never said whether she is or isn’t still a proponent of the use of contraception to control fertility. The latter line in the above excerpt irks me. This is not solely because I am a proponent of chastity (which involves abstaining from sex before marriage), but because of all else contraception accomplishes. I haven’t discussed contraception much publicly, but for now is this: One of contraception’s purposes is to prevent the unprepared from becoming parents. It says “yay for fewer unfit parents!” loud enough that nobody hears the following over the noise: if you are unprepared to be a parent, maybe you are actually unprepared to be having sex.

What a great definition of integrity:

“…I particularly admired how his faith shaped his values and choices. I sensed a strength and consistency in his life—an integration of his beliefs with his practices…” -page 50

On being a churchgoer simultaneously as she worked for Planned Parenthood: 

“On Sunday mornings, I felt like a spiritual misfit, surrounded by people in touch with God while I just felt left out in the cold. But I wanted to belong—really belong—among other Christians. I was careful to avoid conversations about where I worked.” -page 63

This passage is a great example of what Harriet Lerner wrote in The Dance of Fear, the book I blogged about yesterday: “The extent to which you hide something important about yourself or another family member is a good barometer of shame.”

A really good point (read it to the end):

“When it was clear I wasn’t getting anywhere, I turned to head back into the clinic. But I’d only taken a step or two when I turned back to [a pro-lifer who often prayed outside the clinic] and said, ‘You know—‘ He looked taken aback, as if he thought I was going to get nasty. But I just thought he should see our point of view. ‘There have always been people like us—like Planned Parenthood—defending the rights of women and human rights in general. Isn’t that what the emancipation movement was about in the 1800s, and then in the early 1900s, the suffrage movement? In World War II, people tried to stand up for the Jews. And now there are people like us, standing up for the reproductive rights of women, just as the suffrage movement stood up for their voting rights.’

He listened respectfully, and then he simply said, ‘Abby, you don’t have to justify your job to me.’

What? Justify my job? ‘I’m not justifying,’ I said. ‘I just want to explain—“

‘And you don’t have to explain what you’re doing either. The truth is, you just cited two instances of injustice—[regarding] the slaves and the Jews—that could only exist because a whole segment of our population was dehumanized. Society’s acceptance of that is what allowed injustice to continue. And that’s exactly what Planned Parenthood does to the unborn.’ -page 84

On the pro-choice friends she lost, and other people — the ones who prayed at the gates of the Planned Parenthood in Bryan, TX, who — even before Johnson quit her job — became her friends:

“But the process of seeing previously close friends turn away from me because we now disagreed about the crucial issue of abortion reminds me of the very different brand of friendship I’m also seeing in action these days. I’m thinking of people like Elizabeth, Marilisa, some friends from church and even college days—people who befriended me and stood by me for years even though they did not agree with what I did at Planned Parenthood, even though they do not believe in abortion. Those people modeled for me something far deeper, far stronger than situational friendship: they loved and accepted me even when I was (or am) doing something they found morally objectionable. They didn’t just talk about love—they put flesh on that concept.” -page 220

And I think we can all learn from that.

– – – – –

Click here to read about all the books I read in 2012.

Click here to learn more about unPLANNED.

Click here to learn more about Abby Johnson.