Making All Things New, by Stephanie Gray

Photo Attribution: Texas Radio & The Big Beast

There are some emotional pains that are so excruciating, so deep, and so overwhelming that words are inadequate to describe the agony.  In such experiences, the deepest and most guttural of sobs seem to provide no relief.

That kind of suffering came to mind when I met a beautiful college student at my recent talk at an American university this past week.  She approached me afterwards to thank me for giving her something she didn’t have previously: a way to articulate the reasons behind the pro-life position in order to make “The Case for Life” (the title for my talk in which I equipped the audience to persuasively defend the right to life of pre-born children).  After she thanked me, she made a significant disclosure:

“I had a baby last December.”

She then told me her story: her parents wanted her to have an abortion.  She didn’t know back then how to make the case for life to convince them it was wrong to meet their wishes, but she nonetheless knew it in her heart.  And so, even if she couldn’t articulate it with her tongue, she would not allow abortion to be the answer.

An unplanned pregnancy. 

An unmarried student. 

A betrayal by one’s own parents who wanted their grandchild dismembered. 

Agony. 

Utter agony.

As she walked through that trial, a parallel suffering was being lived by two others: there was a married couple who lost not one, not two, but three children to sudden deaths.  Children should expect to one day bury their parents, but parents should never have to bury their children.  This couple had to bury three.  Torture.

But these parallel journeys would intersect.  Two crises would meet and mysteriously produce beauty: “I gave my baby up for adoption,” the student told me, “to a couple I knew for four years who had had three children and all of them died.”

She took out her phone and showed me a most precious picture of her baby girl. What joy for her to know that she played a role in bringing the gift of life, and its fruits of joy, to a couple who had known such deep sadness.  What a joy for the adoptive parents to know that they played a role in receiving the gift of life and affirming the courageous and loving choice of this young woman.  What a joy for both parties to know that when faced with the neediness of a little child, their response was a spirit of responsibility, generosity, and love.

Amidst the crisis pregnancy, the stirring in this student’s heart to consider adoption was as though God was whispering what He said in Revelation 21:5 “Behold I make all things new.”

Amidst the great loss of their children’s deaths, the adoptive couple’s reception of new life was as though God was breathing into them, “Behold, I make all things new.”

And 24 hours after that baby girl’s birth, her grandfather who had previously wished her aborted, called his daughter to apologize, and to thank her for giving life to his grandchild that he had held the day before—in that moment of mercy, it was as though the written word of God came to life yet again:

“Behold, I make all things new.”

Lessons from a Fire, by Stephanie Gray

Photo by MICHAEL MANIEZZO

One year ago, shortly after 7am, on a morning I had planned to sleep in, I was awoken by a fire.  Yelling startled me awake and when I looked out my bedroom window where I used to live in Brampton, Ontario, I saw that my breathtakingly beautiful place of worship, an all-wood onion-domed Ukrainian Catholic Church, was surrounded by fire trucks.  Initially, I just saw smoke.  But it quickly turned to flames.  And it didn’t take long until the whole building was engulfed by a fiery inferno.

Six days before, I had experienced deep serenity as I stepped onto my patio to watch the setting sun light up the evening sky, illuminating the church’s dramatic silhouette.  It was as though a piece of a Ukrainian village had fallen from the sky and landed in a field in Brampton, bringing quiet and peace to the most populated part of Canada, the Greater Toronto Area.  People of all faiths and backgrounds regularly drove up to take in the awe and wonder of St. Elias the Prophet’s magnificent architecture.  When people would walk in, they would be hushed by the presence of the sacred.  The smell of incense and beeswax candles (the only form of lighting for the whole sanctuary, excepting sun beams shining through windows) were sweet to the senses.  The floor to dome iconography that took 10 years to complete was breathtaking to behold.  St. Elias was an experience of Heaven on earth.  In every way, it drew the human experience to heights that went beyond this world.

But less than one week later, I sat stunned and in shock as I watched St. Elias burn—literally—to the ground.  I can’t quite get an image out of my head, of my dear shepherd, Fr. Roman Galadza, sitting on the frozen ground between the rectory and the church, his black cassock blowing in the bitter wind, head in hands, as he watched what he had labored to build for over 25 years disappear before his eyes.  Agonizing.

I have so many memories from that day—hearing gut wrenching sobs, hundreds of people flocking to grieve, religious leaders of all kinds coming to express condolences, but what stands out most is two-fold, and both are Fr. Roman’s example.  Amidst this loss, Father knew what was most important—who the church was built for, not the building itself.  And so, with deep concern for the Body of Christ, he asked the firemen if they would attempt to rescue Our Lord.  Donning their oxygen masks, several brave men entered the inferno and successfully collected the Body of Christ and His holy word—The Gospel Book.  A fireman told me later that when he saw his colleague walking from the church, hunched over, carrying something wrapped in a blanket, he panicked thinking, “A body! Oh my gosh! There was a child in there.”  No, there was not, but what—who—his colleague was carrying demanded a kind of reverence with which he so carefully cradled the Sacred, that which we would give to a precious child—and more.

Then there was what Father did only a couple hours after the fire.  As more and more people flocked to the parish house, Father quickly prepared a prayer service for us all—and it was a service of thanksgiving.  That is right: amidst anguish and loss, he immediately focused our perspective by leading us to give thanks.

In his booming voice he recited from Job 1:21, “The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away,” and we responded as Job once did: “Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

And a second time he boldly declared, “The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away!”

“Blessed be the name of the Lord!” we cried.

And a third time his voice thundered: “The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away!”

We shouted, “Blessed be the name of the Lord!”

This example has stayed with me ever since, and has been a source of consolation in trying times.  It is easy to give praise when life is good—but can we give praise when life gets difficult?  Can we maintain the perspective that no matter what we experience, God is good?  Can we continually give God the praise He is due?

At St. Elias on April 5, 2014, it was so tempting to only lament what we had lost, but the leadership of Fr. Roman challenged us to give thanks for what we had received—to remember the 25 beautiful years the church building had been a sanctuary for prayer, praise, and healing. 

Life delivers both joys and sorrows, and we cannot always control these.  But what we can control is our response—and look for opportunities to express gratitude and praise amidst the most trying of times.  Moreover, while objects may cease to exist, subjects do not.  How much more tragic than the destruction of a beautiful building is the destruction of a beautiful soul?  Protecting and nourishing the temple of the Holy Spirit should be our primary aim.

Indeed, each Sunday at St. Elias, and now in a school gym until the new church is built, the congregation lifts its voices and reverently sings,

“Let us who mystically represent the Cherubim, and sing the Thrice-holy Hymn to the life-giving Trinity, now lay aside all cares of life, that we may receive the King of all, escorted invisibly by ranks of angels. Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.”

As we continue in this Easter season, let us remember that material possessions or not, we can receive the King of all.  So let us lay aside all cares of life.

Address at Westmont College Chapel by Stephanie Gray, March 16, 2015 in Santa Barbara

40 Days by Stephanie Gray

We are now at the half-way point of Lent.  It is also the half-way point of an international movement: the 40 Days for Life Campaign which consists of three elements: 1) prayer and fasting, 2) constant vigil, and 3) community outreach in response to the killing of the youngest of our kind through abortion.  On Sunday in Vancouver we marked the middle of this campaign with a rally outside Vancouver’s largest abortion clinic.

 At that gathering I gave a speech about 4 principles we need to take to heart as we follow the call to be salt and light, and those lessons are extracted from Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s words in his Letter from Birmingham Jail:

“There was a time when the church was very powerful -- in the time when the early Christians rejoiced at being deemed worthy to suffer for what they believed. In those days the church was not merely a thermometer that recorded the ideas and principles of popular opinion; it was a thermostat that transformed the mores of society. Whenever the early Christians entered a town, the people in power became disturbed and immediately sought to convict the Christians for being ‘disturbers of the peace’ and ‘outside agitators.’ But the Christians pressed on, in the conviction that they were ‘a colony of heaven,’ called to obey Gad rather than man. Small in number, they were big in commitment. They were too God-intoxicated to be ‘astronomically intimidated.’ By their effort and example they brought an end to such ancient evils as infanticide and gladiatorial contests.”

Just as the early Church, through God’s grace, brought an end to historical evils, we too can help bring an end to present-day evils by seeking Dr. King’s advice to

1)      Be thermostats,

2)      Enter a town,

3)      Press on, and

4)      Obey God

If you consider a thermostat in contrast to a thermometer, the latter merely records the temperature—it tells us something, whereas the former actually adjusts the temperature.  A thermostat is the controller which turns heat or cool air on or off to ensure an environment is at the proper temperature.  Likewise, we must step back and say what is the ideal “temperature” for our culture—how ought things be?  And when we identify what should be the way (i.e., respect all human life) then we must work to bring our culture up to that level. 

One 40 Days for Life volunteer in Wisconsin did just that.  Standing alone on a cold day, praying outside an abortion clinic, he saw a couple whose hearts were cold as they walked into that clinic to kill their child.  But the volunteer adjusted the temperature—he conveyed warmth by lovingly looking at them and saying, “God bless you two.  No, wait—God bless all three of you!”  That’s all it took—a witness, a kind gesture, a correction of words for greater accuracy and the couple was changed.  They left the clinic and months later a baby boy was born.

Not only must we be thermostats, we must “enter a town”—in other words, in order to change the culture we must engage the culture.  The early Christians reached many because they took their message directly to the people.  We all ought to do an inventory of who we know, or who has been placed in our path, and how we can reach out to them. 

Not only should we create opportunities to engage those we know, but we should seize opportunities that arise.  Unfortunately I didn’t do that a couple days ago, and hope others can learn from my mistake: I was at my cousin’s house alone when the doorbell rang.  A Liberal party candidate was canvassing the neighborhood and I simply said, “The homeowners aren’t here” so she gave me a flyer for them and that was it.  As I took the flyer to the kitchen I realized I had just missed an important opportunity—knowing that that candidate’s leader Justin Trudeau’s abortion-supporting views are so extreme he said he will force MPs in his caucus to vote against any legislation restricting abortion, I should have engaged the candidate in a discussion about that.

Thankfully pro-life students at UBC did seize a similar opportunity just last week when they decided to throw together a protest in response to Justin Trudeau speaking on their campus.  When I joined them at this demonstration, I spoke with a student who initially thought abortion was okay, but when he looked at an image of an abortion victim and when I took him through basic pro-life reasoning about human rights, he admitted that that made sense and thanked me.  That exchange wouldn’t have happened if we hadn’t engaged the culture—so let’s re-capture the spirit of the early church and do just that.

Of course, we also need to press on—and that can be difficult when an injustice seems never-ending and when we don’t always see the results.  Several years ago a friend of mine told me that even though she was raised in a pro-life home and was taught and believed that abortion was wrong, when she got pregnant in her twenties everything changed—she told her doctor she wanted an abortion and was given a number to a clinic where she was going to get it done.  But one day when she was driving to work she noticed a mini-van in front of her with a bumper sticker which displayed a quote by Mother Teresa: “It is a poverty to decide a child must die so that you may live as you wish.”  Her heart softened, she rejected abortion, and several months later gave birth to a baby boy. 

The people in the blue mini-van have no idea that their pro-life proclamation saved a baby—but it did.  That is proof that we may never see the fruits but our job is to press on, and trust that God will use our efforts to bring about great good.

Finally, in all things we need to obey God, remembering that all His commands are summed into one: Love.  We are called to love God and love neighbor, and love is wanting the other’s good.  That’s what drives pro-lifers to stand and pray and reach out and circulate the pro-life message—it is willing the good of the pre-born as well as the born.  Of course, it is love which drove Jesus to the cross.  And so, at this mid-way point of this 40-day journey, let us remember to take up our cross and follow Christ, just as the early church martyrs did.

End of Life Decision-Making: The Details, by Stephanie Gray

A couple years ago, a friend of mine, who is a young husband and father, was diagnosed with a brain tumor.  His wife contacted me for counsel on handling end-of-life decision-making should things move in that direction, and she wrote me the following:

 “We are in the midst of writing up our Power of Attorneys and part of that includes the following statement: ‘If the situation should arise in which there is no reasonable expectation of my recovery from extreme physical or mental disability, I direct that I be allowed to die and not be kept alive by cardiopulmonary resuscitation, mechanical respiration, artificial nutrition, or other artificial means.’

I am just wondering what your thoughts are on the ethics of withholding feeding tube in an 'end of life' situation.  Do you consider it an artificial means of preserving life the same as keeping someone on a ventilator?  I somehow feel it is quite different and shouldn't lumped into one statement.  Is there discussion around this topic?”

In light of Canada’s recent Supreme Court Decision, I thought it would be beneficial to publish my response to her as a resource for others who may find themselves in similar situations.  So here it is:

My heart goes out to you having to think of this right now. I do have some thoughts on end of life issues and interventions and wording guidelines that I'd be more than happy to share with you.  On matters of end of life, the morality of what to do is often difficult to wade through because in order to determine the ethical we have to really understand the medical, and these days the medical can be quite complicated and varies according to each person’s unique condition and situation.  Knowing what to do can be determined, but it takes a bit more digging. 

I would therefore caution against any type of general statement like you have because I think it allows for too much interpretation and if you don’t have a pro-life physician, the doctor’s determination of “extreme” physical or mental disability could be problematic.   This article here further explains why one should be cautious about general statements.

I should note that that link and others below all go to documents written by Catholics.  Because that is my background and I am very familiar with the National Catholic Bioethics Center (from which almost all my links are drawn) I nonetheless provide them to you, knowing your different background, because I’ve never found anything more extensive and consistent with natural law principles than these.  It’s not that other good documents aren’t out there, but it’s that these are what I know and I think very logical and grounded in principles that, at their core, cross denominational boundaries.  Let me know if that's okay or not.

Anyhoos, when I took my certification in health care ethics, one of the things we were taught is to distinguish things which are proportionate versus those which are disproportionate (instead of things like concern for general disability, as that can lead people to make decisions based on “quality of life” which is very subjective).  I’ve attached the reading for it I was given, but in brief, the main things to focus on would be whether a particular intervention hasa hope of benefit or not and would it be excessively burdensome or not.  This article draws on that principle when it comes to DNRs (“Do Not Recuscitate”) and I think it says it better than I could so if you don’t mind I’ll just point you to it.

Regarding nutrition and hydration, I would classify that as care, rather than treatment, even when requiring some artificial assistance to get the process going, as food and water are basic necessities for our survival.  Therefore, rather than a general statement to withhold these, I think that has to be determined from the perspective of whether administering them would be excessively burdensome (again, back to that proportionate/disproportionate standard).  For example, when someone is in their dying stages, administering food and water could possibly cause more pain and little to no benefit, so it could ethically be withheld, not to speed the dying process, but to avoid causing pain to someone who is already in the dying process.  But that has to be determined on a case-by-case basis to know what the administration, in a specific scenario, would actually do.  This document provides some helpful insights on nutrition and hydration, although a good chunk of it relates more to those in a “vegetative” state.

There’s also helpful information related to that topic, along with respiration, which not only distinguishes artificial hydration and nutrition from ventilators, but also makes the point that determining whether one should maintain the use of a ventilator or not should still be run through the “proportionate versus disproportionate” test.  You can read about this here and here. 

Another perspective to bear in mind is that when someone dies, to determine the ethics of our commissions or omissions surrounding their death, we should ask, “If I act or do not act, and the person dies, what will be their cause of death?”  Will it be their underlying disease/condition, or will it be our act or omission?  If it’s the latter, there’s a problem.  If it’s the former, that is tragically a part of life.

Admittedly, sometimes when we do one thing (e.g., administer pain medication), it can have two kinds of effects—a good effect (pain goes away) and a bad effect (the medication hastens death).  If the act is consistent with the Principle of Double Effect, it can be justified.

All this to say, I think the wisest choice in end-of-life issues is what is described at the end of the first article I linked to:

“There is a better choice available to Christians than a living will. We can choose a surrogate, a living person, who will make health care decisions in real time on our behalf if we are rendered unable to do so. The proposed surrogate (also called a "health care proxy") is someone who cares deeply about us, who loves us, and is reasonably able to make decisions in accord with our known wishes and with our best medical and spiritual interests in mind. Filling out a form to designate our health care proxy is something that each of us should do as a sensible way to prepare for difficult end-of-life situations that may arise. Preparing such a document can also prompt us to begin discussing these important topics more effectively with our families and loved ones.”

This way, the specific circumstances of each scenario that arises in the future will be dealt with, and ethically analyzed, in the present moment, rather than hypothesizing about the future.  In fact, the NCBC organization I draw my information from, has a 24-hour ethical consult line that anyone, not just Catholics, can call to get an ethical analysis based on specific medical situations that arise.

I hope this helps.  Again, please let me know if you’d like to discuss any of it, and please be assured of my continued prayers for you and your family.

Peace be with you, Stephanie

Note: My friend responded, “This is so very helpful.  Thank you so much.  I had not found as much clarity or peace in speaking to other people to this point.”  Most encouraging is that almost two years since our exchange, her husband has had two brain surgeries to remove the tumor and is doing very, very well!  Please keep them in your prayers.

Stephanie Gray's Presentation at Students for Life of America 2015

One Shade of Gray by Stephanie Gray

“Why?”  It’s a question toddlers teach us to ask over and over again.  I found myself asking that question as movie theatres prepare to roll out 50 Shades of Grey: Why have more than 100 million copies been sold?  Why have presumably 100 million women read this particular story?  Why is it so magnetic?  So I messaged a friend of mine, whose Facebook wall has been filled with a countdown for the film—was she willing to share her perspective? She said she’d call in 15 minutes.

What she told me was not what I was expecting.  She focused very little on the kind of sex in the story that is the focus of so many articles critiquing the tale.  Instead, she started off by telling me that the main character, Christian Grey, was horrifically abused as a child.  That his mother beat him, starved him, and did all kinds of other despicable things to him.  He was adopted at the age of 8, but by then untold abuse had been inflicted on this vulnerable child.

His victimization worsened.  When he was 15, his adopted mother’s friend convinced him to have sex with her, in what became an adult woman dominating and beating this teenage boy in multiple sexual encounters.

From a psychology perspective, it’s not surprising that as he became an adult, Christian pursued women who looked like his mother and then engaged in violent sex where he had control and enjoyed beating them—doing to them the violence he presumably wished he could have done to his mother when she hurt him so horrifically as a child.

And so the old adage is true: hurting people hurt people.  But if we want to help hurting people become healthy people, we don’t let them hurt others.  What if Christian’s mother was just acting out on him an abuse that had been done to her?  Would we think that okay?  What if the adopted mother’s friend was just acting out on Christian something that had been done to her?  Would we think that acceptable?  Then why would our culture think it okay for Christian to act out on women the domination that had been inflicted on him?

Just because we can understand why people do what they do, it doesn’t mean we tolerate what they do.  Consider lawyer David Dow’s TED Talk: One of his clients, Will, was executed for committing murder.  Setting aside the death penalty debate, what is heartbreaking about Will’s story is that his life, from its beginnings, was fraught with horror: His father abandoned his mom when she was pregnant with Will.  His mom, who had paranoid schizophrenia, tried to kill Will when he was five.  He lived with his brother until that brother committed suicide.  He was bounced between relatives’ homes until he lived on his own—at the age of 9.  Knowing all this can make us feel empathy for Will.  But it doesn’t take away the wrongness of what Will did by committing murder.  

We don’t have control about whether we are victims.  But we do have control about whether we become victimizers.  Unfortunately Will was both victim and victimizer.  So was Christian Grey.  Neither man should be glorified in their role as victimizers just because they should be sympathized in their role as victims.

Yet the temptation is strong perhaps because, as my friend informed me, the story wrestles with topics so near and dear to women’s hearts: self-worth, acceptance, woundedness, and unconditional love.  My friend even noted, “Millionaire, good looking man who wants to be with me.”  It touches on the desire to be provided for, the desire to be accepted.  It touches even on a woman’s desire to nurture (my friend informed me that Ana loved Christian more when she learned of him being abused), but it’s vital this not be overlooked: Christian Grey needed a proper counselor and spiritual healing, not a human to use as a sex toy.  Until he had worked through his woundedness—which is possible—he was incapable of being in an interdependent, life-giving, loving, romantic relationship.  In his unhealed state, he was employing the manipulation and domination characteristic of people who hurt others—and that is not love; it is not a relationship to be admired or desired (As director of the National Center of Sexual Exploitation points out here).

So when 50 Shades of Grey arouses in women desires in the feminine heart, but gives a response that is the dysfunction of Christian and Ana’s relationship, it provides a counterfeit.  Some may think it is love, (just as someone with a counterfeit bill may think it is real) but ultimately their relationship doesn’t coincide with love’s true meaning, which St. Thomas Aquinas so beautifully defined as “to will the good of another.”  If we do not will the good of another, then we will use.  If we do not will the good of another, then we will abuse.  

If we do not will the good of another, and if we were made to will the good of another—if we were made to love and be loved—then we will experience the destructive consequences that flow from going against this nature (should we then be surprised that “According to research from Michigan State University, young women who read Fifty Shades of Grey are more likely than nonreaders to exhibit signs of eating disorders and have a verbally abusive partner. Beyond that, women who’ve read all three of the books in the series were more likely to binge drink and have multiple sexual partners—all of which are behaviors commonly exhibited by women in abusive relationships”)

In light of that, let’s consider, for a moment, what we would do if we had a $100 bill and was informed by a cashier it was a counterfeit.  Would we keep it?  Would we give it away to others?  Or would we throw it out?  If 50 Shades is a counterfeit of what real love is and we throw it away, what do we replace it with?  First, we find our identity in Christ, our Creator, knowing that He loved us so much He willed us into existence and He died for us.  He accepts us.  He loves us unconditionally.  He heals our wounds.  He desires our good.  Then, we follow in Christ’s footsteps and we live authentic love. 

What does that look like?  Dietrich von Hildebrand so beautifully declared, “In the case of truly being in love…I become more sensitive and more reverent.”  Consider beautiful, fragile, and valuable things in our world—how do we treat them?  How do we handle 100-year-old, million dollar pieces of art?  What do we do when the sky is suddenly and dramatically painted with brilliant reds, oranges, and yellows as the sun sets?  What happens when we are hiking and come upon a waterfall cascading down a mountain with wild flowers growing in the lush meadow?

In these moments do we seek to disturb?  To destroy?  To disfigure?  Or do we step back with caution and care, in order to marvel?  If we love these things, we will respect them.  If we love these things, we will preserve them.  If we love these things, we will pause with awe and silence and behold their wonder.  

If that is how we would respond to something in creation, how much more should we have reverence for creatures, for the human person who is more beautiful and more valuable than any created object?  The thought of Christian Grey desecrating the artwork or destroying the beautiful scene with his rough and dehumanizing behaviors is stomach-churning.  How much more, then, should we be pained that he do that to a woman—that he desecrate, defile, and despoil an individual who is unrepeatable, irreplaceable, and breathtakingly beautiful.

Consider for a moment what fairy tales we tell our children—they are stories of love, sacrifice, heroic virtue, of using power responsibly, and of focusing on the good of the other.  Sexual intimacy should be a manifestation of this kind of beautiful love, while 50 Shades is the exact opposite.

Consider more of Dietrich von Hildebrand’s words that we should aspire to in our relationships:

“The mark of being in love is the clearest antithesis to sex appeal, to mere sexual attraction.  Regarding the other only as sexually fascinating and experiencing an isolated sensual desire represents a phenomenon radically different from the true state of being in love. In this state, the beloved stands before us as something immeasurably precious, whose beauty awakens reverence in us…A man who is truly in love gazes upon his beloved with the awareness that ‘I am not worthy of her,’ although with his whole heart he hopes that his love may be requited.

“In the case of isolated sensual desire, where I find someone merely enticing, I am drawn into the periphery.  I even become less sensitive, less reverent.  In the true state of being in love, the beloved stands before me as a person in a unique way.  I take him fully seriously as a person.  In a mere sexual attraction, the partner is an object for my satisfaction.  In the case of truly being in love, the whole charm of the other sex is embodied in the one beloved person, whereas in sensual desire the other is just one good representation of the other sex among many…

“How much more noble and reverent, more aware, and consequently more lovable is a man made by love!  How much richer the cosmos becomes for him and how he is led even to a greater religious depth!  For one truly in love, the sun shines more brightly, nature becomes more beautiful, and his entire life is elevated to a higher plane.”

So, as we embrace this vision of authentic love, let us reject its counterfeit like 50 Shades.  As the movie comes out this weekend, let’s make a commitment to not only refuse to watch it, but to also boycott theaters that run it by not giving them business the whole time 50 Shades is out.  In fact, my boyfriend and I were going to go to a movie tonight, but because that same theater is also playing 50 Shades, we refuse to give the theater our business and will be explaining why to the manager.  It is important we send a clear message that this kind of harmful treatment of other humans is not to be glorified and celebrated and that, instead, the alternative—willing the other’s good—is the life-giving example to follow.

On Assisted Suicide and Perspective: A Practical Response, by Stephanie Gray

Image source: Wikimedia Commons, Adam Jones

Last Friday as I flew to Texas to speak at a mother-daughter event, I stared out the airplane window at the majesty of the setting sun which had painted the sky red, yellow, orange, and blue in a breathtaking scene of beauty, and my mind wandered to a stark contrast: the turmoil going on back in my own country.  February 6 was a dark day for Canada, for it was the day our Supreme Court overturned the law prohibiting assisted suicide.

In between flights that day, I saw my newsfeed and e-mail fill with messages of deep sadness, fear, and dread.  These were, and are, healthy reactions to a horrifying decision that attacks the dignity of the person.

Now that the news has settled over the weekend, it is good to take a moment to reflect on the importance of perspective.  Holocaust-survivor Viktor Frankl, in his book Man’s Search for Meaning, reminds us of a truth we must cling to during these dark days: “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances.”

The bad news is that the sick and vulnerable are in danger in Canada.  The good news is that we are in control of our response to this horrible set of circumstances.  No judge or government or individual can take away how we respond.  So a question each one of us must ask is this: Are the sick and vulnerable, in my circle of influence, in danger?  Each of us determines the answer to that question.

Consider Lord of the Rings, a story revolving around a young hobbit, Frodo, who inherits the Ring of Power and who is charged with the grave responsibility of transporting it to a volcano to destroy it.  At one point, Frodo laments, “I wish the ring had never come to me.  I wish none of this had happened.”  And the wizard Gandalf, replies, “So do all who live to see such times.  But that is not for them to decide.  All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.”

That is perspective.  And that is what we must continue to come back to in light of the Supreme Court’s decision.  While it is understandable that we lament, “I wish the court had never decided this.  I wish euthanasia didn’t happen in Canada,” we should focus more on how we have the power to decide what to do with the time that is given to us, how we can choose our attitude in this present circumstance.

So what are we going to do with the time that is given to us?

I heartily recommend supporting worthy causes like The Euthanasia Prevention Coalition.  Then, when it comes to a practical level, I think our primary response to Friday’s decision should be to love more deeply, and influence more positively, the people around us.  If no one asks for assisted suicide, and if strong people protect weak people from medical personnel who would be tempted to kill the vulnerable, assisted suicide and euthanasia won’t happen.  So what does that mean?  Each of us, in our particular circle of influence, should seek out those around us who we can 1) be a friend to and 2) be an advocate for.

Be a Friend

Many years ago, pro-life speaker Camille Pauley spoke about how she visited an elderly, unresponsive man in a hospital.  She spent time visiting him not for herself, but for him.  It didn’t matter that he couldn’t hold a conversation with her, because what mattered was that she communicated, by her time and presence and love, that he was valuable, that he was unrepeatable and irreplaceable, and that he had dignity by his very existence, not by anything he could do.  By simply “Being With” (the name of the program she developed for this very outreach), she affirmed his worth.  If someone is not made to feel like they are a burden, but instead made to feel that they are worthy of our time, they are unlikely to ask for assisted suicide.

Practically speaking, I think we all could do an inventory of our family and friends and think about one or two in our circle who most need special attention, and then be intentional about spending more time with them.  We could also seek out one or two people we don’t yet know that we will make time for.  I recently sent this message to my pastor and encourage others to copy and paste the same:

In light of the Supreme Court's decision to overturn Canada's prohibition on assisted suicide, I believe one of the best ways we can respond to this horrible ruling is for everyone to make sure that the people in their circles of influence don't ever ask for assisted suicide--to make sure that everyone in our circles of influence feels loved and supported and cared for. 

So in asking, “What can I do?” it occurred to me that there could be someone at our church who is an elderly or disabled person who is shut in with no family or friends who could use some visits and help.  So I was wondering if you know of a parishioner like this who could be blessed by someone forming a friendship to spend time with them?  If so, could you please connect me to them?

Alternatively, signing up to visit at a local elderly home is another practical way to be present and loving to the vulnerable.

Be an Advocate

Besides being a friend, we also need to be an advocate.  The dictionary defines this as “a person who speaks or writes in support or defense of a person.”  If one of your family or friends is hospitalized, are you equipped to ask the right questions and seek out the right information to ensure their medical treatment is handled in an ethical fashion?  Several years ago I took a certification course in health care ethics through the National Catholic Bioethics Center (NCBC) in Philadelphia.  Thanks to the NCBC’s resources, when my friend with a brain tumor was facing possible end-of-life issues, I was able to share their advice for ethical decision-making with his wife. 

Whether you know how to ethically handle end-of-life care (e.g., how does one determine whether an intervention is proportionate versus disproportionate?), or whether you know where to look for what is the right course of action, another important point for consideration is this: do you have the legal power to ensure the right thing is done for your loved ones?  Last night I confirmed that I have Power of Attorney for my parents should they ever be incapable of making medical decisions on their behalf.  This was a legal document I signed several years ago and you can bet, should it ever need to be enforced, that I will make decisions on their behalf that respect their dignity.  You can bet I will ensure doctors respond by alleviating suffering, not eliminating the sufferer.

If you are a health care professional, you can advocate for your patients by practicing ethically and not allowing the Supreme Court’s decision to cause you to do anything different except that it motivate you to be more loving, attentive, and compassionate, someone who exemplifies what it means to be a part of a healing profession.

When we are tempted to be overwhelmed by the gravity and far-reaching consequences of the Supreme Court’s decision, let us remember that we are in control of our response.  Rather than despairing or being overwhelmed, let us remember the words of Bishop Untener of Michigan who said, “We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that.  This enables us to do something, and to do it very well.”

Be a friend.  Be an advocate.  Let us each do that very well.

Learning to Weep by Stephanie Gray

Image source: File:Sépulcre_Arc-en-Barrois_111008_12.jpg

I can still remember the day—it was pouring rain.  Water was dripping from my hood and the guy I was speaking with, who was equally soaked, moved with me under a roof overhang.  I had just met this student on a university campus where he revealed profound suffering: he had been sodomized as a child, was so poor that he and his single mother had lived on food stamps, and he struggled with suicidal tendencies.  I remember at one point in the conversation, as I prayed for inspiration for the right words to say, all I could do was weep.  And as I let the tears pour down my cheeks, the rain continued to fall from the sky as if the Heavens were also weeping at his pain.

That encounter came to mind when I heard about Pope Francis’ recent visit to the Philippines when he was asked by a 12-year-old, who had suffered great poverty and abuse, why God allows innocent children to suffer.  And Pope Francis echoed a sentiment then that he’s expressed several times throughout his pontificate: Let us learn how to weep.  When we do so, we seek to understand—we seek to acknowledge the painful journey of the other. 

Let us learn how to weep.

It has been said, “Tears are words the heart can’t express,” and in the face of another’s wounds, it is often the best way to communicate sympathy.  I remember a team member coming to me on a university campus where I’d trained her to dialogue with students about abortion.  She had had a particularly tough encounter with a very angry young man who was a homeless student and spoke about horrible evils he’d experienced in life.  He had been threatening, had been yelling and swearing.  And she came to me in tears.  But her tears weren’t because she feared for her own safety.  They weren’t tears of feeling hurt by him.  They were tears of hurting for him.  She told me she felt his pain so deeply that she was overcome with sorrow.

Let us learn how to weep.

Several years ago when I spoke at a camp for the National Evangelization Team (NET), training young Catholic missionaries in pro-life apologetics, I arrived an evening early and took part in their night of Mass, prayer, and praise and worship.  In the preceding days I had met many university students who had shared their stories of suffering with me, including the horror of rape.  During that night of prayer and song, I remember being overcome with tears as I thought about all the pain these young souls were carrying.   

Let us learn how to weep.  When we do so, we maintain a softness to our spirit that allows us to be gentle with peoples’ fragility and sensitive to their suffering and needs. 

In 2013, Pope Francis spoke in Lampedusa, a small island off the coast of Italy where migrants often travel there by sea from Africa, many of them losing their lives during the rough journey.  In remembering such tragedies there, Pope Francis said the following during his visit:

“Who among us has wept for these things and things like this?  Who has wept for the deaths of these brothers and sisters?  Who has wept for the mothers carrying their babies?  For these men who wanted something to support their families?  We are a society that has forgotten the experience of weeping, of suffering with.”

Let us learn how to weep.

Love Unleashes Life: A Talk at the Geaux Forth Conference

On January 21 I presented to 1,400 teenagers at the Louisiana Right to Life Geaux Forth Conference in conjunction with the March for Life in DC.  Here is the recording: