By W. Keith Kahle, M.D.

January 22, 1983 marked the end of a decade of abortion on demand in America. Some people are still wondering what all the fuss is about, but many of us are deeply disturbed by the events of the past ten years. For us, it is a good time to take stock of where we have been and where we are going in this ministry. It is also a good time to reflect upon the danger of becoming too preoccupied with the past or the future.

Looking back at the deaths of over eleven million unborn babies can easily make us angry and resentful and contemplating the future can give us an overwhelming sense of urgency, even hopelessness. The most difficult thing is to live our lives in the present. It is a great temptation to become so wrapped up with the pro-life social movement, to put so much effort into mastering the difficult issues being debated, that we are constantly living in the past or the future. We can forget that our activism and familiarity with the issues are not nearly as important as our small individual acts of love or our willingness to share personally in a human experience of suffering. Living in the present requires a conscious effort when you’re deeply committed to a cause.

At virtually every pro-life talk I’ve ever attended, there’s always one question which seems to trouble people the most. They say “Yes, I can see what you mean. I can see that this is a human life, and I am troubled by the pictures of aborted babies. But tell me this: What am I supposed to say to a woman who simply cannot afford another child? What am I supposed to say to a woman who has been told that her baby will have Down’s syndrome, or who is pregnant after being raped? I mean, it is one thing to say that abortion is the killing of a human life. But what do you offer these people, with genuine problems as an alternative to abortion?”

The necessity of living in the present comes home to us in the form of the cry of an anguished woman, in the sob of grief-stricken parents. At this moment of encounter with a specific, suffering human, the moral arguments against abortion just don’t seem to be much help. They remain valid arguments, but are largely inappropriate for the occasion. The troubled woman contemplating abortion needs something from us besides a lecture on morality. We are faced with the essence of our Christian calling. Who is my neighbor, and what is my personal responsibility to her?

The truth is that you and I can offer nothing. We can only respond from a position of weakness, not strength. It is only when we confront the awful certainty of our own inadequacy to meet anyone’s needs that we can begin to help, because until then we cannot really share in the weakness and suffering of another. We are simply too busy trying to be their savior. We must first realize that, given different past experiences and different social pressures, “…but for the grace of God…”, we are all potential abortionists. Only when we have emptied ourselves of any illusions about our moral superiority can Christ begin to use us effectively in His pro-life ministry. Only then can we begin to respond with love rather than anger or pity.

I must face the fact that I am unable to solve the vast majority of the problems people have. I am doomed to failure and disillusionment if I see my primary role as problem-solver. Nothing I can do or say will take away the pain of the parents of the handicapped baby. They must grieve for the perfect child forever lost. I probably won’t be able to take away the unhappiness from the woman whose career plans are disrupted, and whose future is suddenly uncertain. It is essential to understand this. The abortion solution has such great appeal because it promises to solve the problems I know I cannot solve. The price of that solution, though, is always an innocent human life. The abortion alternative is based upon a lie, because it claims to solve problems by virtue of being able to kill without victims. We Christians are challenged to embrace the truth which embracing a distressed neighbor who might not be open to that truth.

There are some specific things I can do to help, but there are pitfalls even here. Several organizations offer counseling on positive alternatives to abortion, and in many situations a referral to one of those organizations is appropriate. The danger, though, is that I can pat myself on the back for my good deed, when all I have really done is abandon the person who needs me. I can fail to recognize my relief at no longer having to struggle with the problem myself. We all have the tendency to take the easy way out. It is much easier to tell someone to get an abortion than to help them struggle through a pregnancy.

The unborn victims of abortion desperately need us to speak up for them. But in the final analysis, I don’t think it will be our voices which decide the issue. A person’s mind might be stimulated by a good argument, but his heart is much more likely to be captured by an unconditional act of love.

Are you and I willing to be a friend to someone whose problems we can’t solve, and whose motives we can’t understand? Are we willing to listen, to simply be there? Are we willing to take a girl with a problem pregnancy into our own homes, to share our time and wealth with her? Are we able to befriend her afterwards, if she has an abortion despite our best efforts to help? The success of the Right to Life movement depends very much upon our individual efforts to give to others the unconditional love as Jesus Christ. As Father John Powell has said, the world can fight a fighter or debate a debater. But what do you do with a lover?

(Dr. Kahle and his wife, Patti, and their children live in Smyrna. He frequently speaks on behalf of the pro-life movement in the archdiocese and submitted this article to The Georgia Bulletin.)