I wish everyone well at the March for Life, which I’ve attended many times over the decades. I’m happy that the President will be addressing those gathered, even if by satellite hookup. It still says much, sending a message to the country, to law enforcement, to the courts. That can only have positive results.
Meanwhile, I’m the designated hold-down-the-fort priest for pretty much all of far-Western WNC: emergency room calls for the various hospitals, last rites for who needs them in the various parishes, things like that.
I am flooded with memories of tragedies of abortion, both the babies and the mothers. I think of the hypocrisy of various policies, the winks and nods of Catholic monies going to murderous activities through clever NGO collections that look more like Acorn or PP than anything else. I think of all the enemies in the episcopacy I’ve made because of my going against their “don’t rock the boat” agendas. It comes to mind, hard, that I’ve not done enough, that babies still die, that the devastation continues.
I also think of the conversion stories, the new-found respect for life, especially among our young people who are put off by the selfish arrogance of the aging monsters of big-business abortion. I also think of those babies who are now adults because they were saved by those praying and bearing witness.
Pictured above are the seminarians of the Pontifical College Josephinum in Columbus, Ohio, reciting the Rosary outside an abortuary. I taught many of them. Many are now priests. The tide is changing. It is. Prayer is so important.