When the last occupier of Oregon’s Malheur National Wildlife Refuge, David Fry, ranted his grievances against the government before his surrender, one grienvance was a resentment for having to pay for abortions with his tax dollars. It was a tense situation, and no one bothered to explain that tax dollars cannot generally pay for abortions, only in certain cases, such as rape, incest, or to save the life of the mother. Of course, for Pro-Lifers, even those exceptions are too great.
I grew up in a household where my father was pro-life and my mother pro-choice. Ironically, mom was the parent who believed in God, while Dad claimed the Bible was written by a bunch of smart Jews to keep people in line.
My mother was raised Christian Science (yet she saw doctors) while my father was raised evangelical Christian and regularly attended church at least twice a week while growing up. He rejected his fundamental Christian upbringing, yet he wasn’t an atheist, and by the end of his life, he had reached out to a higher power.
Therefore, his pro-life stand didn’t stem from his early religious upbringing, but by the fact his mother (who had been in an unhappy marriage) once confessed she would have aborted him had it been legal. I can certainly understand why Dad was pro-life.
I’m not sure if it is accurate to describe my views on abortion as pro-choice, yet I do not align myself with the philosophies expressed by those claiming to be pro-life.
I suppose, like traditional Christians, my feelings on abortion are based on my belief system. Basically, I see our physical body as a vessel—what holds our spirit. It belongs to us. It’s our private property—no one has the right to harm or inflict their will on our private property—our body.
I also don’t believe life begins with our physical body—the essence of who we are is our spirit or soul. I don’t believe our spirit or soul is created when our flesh and blood body evolves. It’s just where we settle to live out our time on this earth.
So basically, I believe a woman has the right to terminate a pregnancy in the very early stages—especially in the instances of rape. But once the embryo evolves and becomes a viable physical life—I move over to the pro-life category. While I believe a woman has the right to decide who occupies her body for nine months—if she goes past a certain point, then I feel that new body has established squatter rights. The mother has lost her right to evict.
The only time I can agree with a late term abortion is for medical reasons, especially to save the life of the mother. At that point, the rights of the mother’s physical body trumps the child’s, in my opinion.
As for the actual spirit or soul of the aborted fetus, I’m not even sure it has one yet. When does the spirit of who we are move into our body? And if that body is terminated, why wouldn’t we simply move into another unborn body?
For me, this concept was dramatically brought home when my father died. Mom and I were with Dad when he passed away. I sat beside his bed, talking to him, telling him I loved him, that he was a wonderful father, and urged him to follow the light.
Some thirty minutes after he flatlined, I remember looking at his body. It was the first time I had really looked at a dead body—one that hadn’t been tampered with by embalming and make up. It struck me how his physical body was now nothing more than an empty vessel. My father, the man we all loved, was no longer there. He had moved on. His body eerily reminded me of an abandoned building.
If you find my opinons on abortion cockamamie—you aren’t alone. One of my devote Christian friends found it hilarious. Yet, I’m very serious.
How do I know I’m right? I don’t. After all, with over 4,000 religions in the world, which one of us is right?
About four years ago I wrote a “what if” short story—It’s the future and Roe VS Wade has been overturned. American Bondage is just 99 cents and you can find it at Amazon.