So, not too long after my blog post about my views on abortion (which I maintain) I declared a truce with a family member with whom I profoundly disagree on the subject. Put simply, I did not wish to threaten our relationship, such that it is, by pushing the issue. My father instilled in me the notion, at an early age, that while friends and colleagues may wax and wane, family is forever, and whenever there's conflict within the family, the responsibility falls to the younger member to bite his or her tongue and let it go.
Oh man, is that ever hard when it comes to gender politics.
My extended family is, by and large, very conservative and very Catholic. When my mother refused to have me baptized as an infant (which came up when, at her baby shower, she received a christening gown) several members of my father's side of the family insisted that my mother was putting me in danger of hellfire. You can imagine, then, how most of the family feels about abortion. Most people are only casually pro-life, in that they certainly would not condone the practice in the lives of anybody they know, and they certainly wouldn't vote for someone whose platform emphasized being pro-choice, but they're not especially militant or vocal about those beliefs. There are, however, a few members of my family who are extremely vocal about being anti-abortion. In fact, one could argue that their zeal for fighting abortion is a defining aspect of their characters.
This puts me in something of an uncomfortable position. I am absolutely opposed to legally restricting a woman's access to abortion, but that doesn't mean I think abortions are a great thing and should be simply the easiest medical procedure to get. I believe they should always be a port of last resort, and I believe we as a society have a responsibility to do what we can to reduce instances of elective abortions... but banning them won't do shit. All it would do is turn it into a back-alley operation, risking the health and safety of women and girls all over the country.
That said, my pro-choice stance certainly doesn't define my character, and it certainly doesn't define my political views. Hell, where abortion is concerned, I tend to lean much more towards the center than most of my peers with whom I agree on other political issues. I care much more about LGBTQ* issues, gender equity, and fighting poverty than I do about abortion. I don't especially care for the policing of women's bodies, but I genuinely believe that if women are lifted out of poverty and are able to negotiate social power structures, a lot of the underlying issues that lead women towards elective abortions would fade. I know I would be a lot less worried about getting pregnant if I was more financially stable and if childcare were more affordable.
At any rate, when I initially called the truce on issues of abortion, I backed off on my more direct social media posts on abortion. I'd linked the family member with whom I disagreed to this blog, called the truce, and moved on with my life. Initially it almost seemed like he too had backed off from more inflammatory posts, but as time has gone on, both he and his wife have gone back to posting increasingly more inflammatory anti-abortion messages. The ones that get me the most are the ones that make theological statements that basically line up pro-choice messaging with satanic messaging, or the ones declaring that atheists are bound for hellfire. As a pro-choice, progressive Christian who has studied medical ethics from a theological perspective (although I'm certainly no expert) it's so, so hard for me to not jump in the ring and make counter arguments. Instead, my partner gets to hear these counter arguments, during which he dutifully nods before hugging me and reminding me why I called the truce in the first place:
1. My family is the single most important thing to me.
2. There are more important things to argue about.
I would rather save my words for more fundamental theological arguments, such as our responsibility as Christians to serve everybody, and all the many, many times the Bible calls us not to horde our worldly possessions, but to share our bounties with those who have not been given the same bounties.
It saddens me to think that the Church is waning to such a degree because of the hatred in the hearts of a few. I see so many people my age who are so hungry to make the world a better place, who have so much energy, but who lack the institutional organization and focus to actually get shit done. We're a generation waiting on the world to change. The Church could serve as that focal point to help organize young people to go out into the world and do the work that needs to be done-- to feed the hungry, to heal the sick in body and mind, to shelter those with no place to call home-- after all, this has been a defining mission of the church since its inception. Yet, because we as Christians have allowed ourselves to be defined by our own, modern Pharisees, my brothers and sisters have turned their backs on the Church... many have turned their backs on Christianity altogether.
Oh man, is that ever hard when it comes to gender politics.
My extended family is, by and large, very conservative and very Catholic. When my mother refused to have me baptized as an infant (which came up when, at her baby shower, she received a christening gown) several members of my father's side of the family insisted that my mother was putting me in danger of hellfire. You can imagine, then, how most of the family feels about abortion. Most people are only casually pro-life, in that they certainly would not condone the practice in the lives of anybody they know, and they certainly wouldn't vote for someone whose platform emphasized being pro-choice, but they're not especially militant or vocal about those beliefs. There are, however, a few members of my family who are extremely vocal about being anti-abortion. In fact, one could argue that their zeal for fighting abortion is a defining aspect of their characters.
This puts me in something of an uncomfortable position. I am absolutely opposed to legally restricting a woman's access to abortion, but that doesn't mean I think abortions are a great thing and should be simply the easiest medical procedure to get. I believe they should always be a port of last resort, and I believe we as a society have a responsibility to do what we can to reduce instances of elective abortions... but banning them won't do shit. All it would do is turn it into a back-alley operation, risking the health and safety of women and girls all over the country.
That said, my pro-choice stance certainly doesn't define my character, and it certainly doesn't define my political views. Hell, where abortion is concerned, I tend to lean much more towards the center than most of my peers with whom I agree on other political issues. I care much more about LGBTQ* issues, gender equity, and fighting poverty than I do about abortion. I don't especially care for the policing of women's bodies, but I genuinely believe that if women are lifted out of poverty and are able to negotiate social power structures, a lot of the underlying issues that lead women towards elective abortions would fade. I know I would be a lot less worried about getting pregnant if I was more financially stable and if childcare were more affordable.
At any rate, when I initially called the truce on issues of abortion, I backed off on my more direct social media posts on abortion. I'd linked the family member with whom I disagreed to this blog, called the truce, and moved on with my life. Initially it almost seemed like he too had backed off from more inflammatory posts, but as time has gone on, both he and his wife have gone back to posting increasingly more inflammatory anti-abortion messages. The ones that get me the most are the ones that make theological statements that basically line up pro-choice messaging with satanic messaging, or the ones declaring that atheists are bound for hellfire. As a pro-choice, progressive Christian who has studied medical ethics from a theological perspective (although I'm certainly no expert) it's so, so hard for me to not jump in the ring and make counter arguments. Instead, my partner gets to hear these counter arguments, during which he dutifully nods before hugging me and reminding me why I called the truce in the first place:
1. My family is the single most important thing to me.
2. There are more important things to argue about.
I would rather save my words for more fundamental theological arguments, such as our responsibility as Christians to serve everybody, and all the many, many times the Bible calls us not to horde our worldly possessions, but to share our bounties with those who have not been given the same bounties.
It saddens me to think that the Church is waning to such a degree because of the hatred in the hearts of a few. I see so many people my age who are so hungry to make the world a better place, who have so much energy, but who lack the institutional organization and focus to actually get shit done. We're a generation waiting on the world to change. The Church could serve as that focal point to help organize young people to go out into the world and do the work that needs to be done-- to feed the hungry, to heal the sick in body and mind, to shelter those with no place to call home-- after all, this has been a defining mission of the church since its inception. Yet, because we as Christians have allowed ourselves to be defined by our own, modern Pharisees, my brothers and sisters have turned their backs on the Church... many have turned their backs on Christianity altogether.
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