NOTICE: The following
article is written by the author itself and not by me, I am not trying to
violate their copyright. I will give some information on them.
ARTICLE
TITLE:
Persecution from Within
DATE: March 2007
AUTHOR: Stephanie Gray
AUTHOR
INFORMATION: Stephanie
is a seasoned and international presenter who began speaking in 1999 at the age
of 18 and who co-founded her national organization (which has grown to almost
20 staff) at the age of 20. She has given pro-life presentations across
North America as well as in the United Kingdom, Latvia, and Costa Rica.
She has spoken at many post-secondary institutions such as the University of
Toronto, York University, University of Calgary, Johns Hopkins University,
George Washington University, and the University of Sussex in England.
Stephanie has debated abortion advocates such
as physicians who do abortions, which includes debating late-term abortionist
Dr. Fraser Fellows in front of medical students at the University of Western
Ontario’s Schulich School of Medicine & Dentistry. She has also
debated Ron Fitzsimmons, executive director of the National Coalition of
Abortion Providers, Dr. Jan Narveson, Philosophy professor and recipient of the
Order of Canada, and Elizabeth Cavendish, legal director for NARAL Pro-Choice
America. Stephanie’s audiences are vast, including high schools, churches
of various denominations, seminaries, and pro-life organizations.
One presentation attendee described
Stephanie’s talk as,
"interesting, convincing, moving, [and]
excellent..."
Another said,
"I came in choice, I’m leaving
life."
Stephanie has been interviewed on multiple
radio shows, including numerous times on Catholic Answers with Patrick Coffin;
she has been a guest on television programs such as CTV News, CBC News, Global
News, SUN News, 100 Huntley Street’s Listen
Up, and the Miracle Channel’s Insight.
She has been interviewed by ABC-, NBC-, FOX-, and CBS-affiliated television
news programs throughout the Midwest of the United States.
Stephanie is Faculty at the Blackstone Legal
Fellowship and is author of A Physician’s Guide to Discussing Abortion.
She holds a Bachelor of Arts in Political Science from UBC in Vancouver, and a
Certification, with
Distinction, in Health Care Ethics, from the NCBC in
Philadelphia. Stephanie resides in Toronto, Ontario, where she is
co-founder and executive director of the Canadian Centre for Bio-Ethical
Reform.
 |
Stephanie
Gray
|
Persecution
from Within
“Stand
on the line if you’ve lost a friend to gang violence. … Stay on the line if
you’ve lost more than one friend. … Three. … Four or more.”
Those
were the instructions from a teacher being taught,
from a woman getting a glimpse into the life of students considered
“unteachables.” Her name is Erin Gruwell, and her true story is
dramatized in the inspiring film Freedom Writers that I watched a few
weeks ago.
As
a first-year teacher at an inner city school in Long Beach, California, Gruwell
inspired a group of students—many of whom were involved with gangs, drugs, and
other criminal activity—to abandon racism, to respect their fellow human beings,
and to embrace education; in short, to transform their lives for the better.
It
is a remarkable film and while many aspects struck me, one in particular stood
out as it relates to recent CCBR experiences: Gruwell was having a positive
impact on her students’ lives, yet received resistance from some fellow
educators who had never given the troubled students the attention they
deserved.
Gruwell
took the time to understand the plight of these students: where they were
coming from, what they had experienced. She got to know them. The
educators critical of Gruwell, on the contrary, did no such thing. They
did not understand the students’ experiences and thus failed to address the
students’ needs; beyond that, they even worked against Gruwell’s laudable—and effective—efforts.
CCBR
also encounters opposition, in our case from some pro-life and religious
leaders. Recently, individuals have not only been critical of our
well-researched strategy, particularly our use of graphic visuals, but at least
one has gone so far as to make and spread the erroneous claim that what we are
doing is wrong.
As
I reflect on the persecution we’re experiencing from those who should be supportive, I
realize that none of this is new. It is a cross that must be borne by all
who would fight the good fight against injustice. The most obvious
example is that of Jesus Christ who was opposed by the religious leaders of His
day, by scribes and Pharisees who should have recognized the truth of His
teachings. Instead, the Pharisees plotted how they might kill Jesus when
He cured a man’s withered hand on the Sabbath (Mark 3:6). They even
considered Him guilty of blasphemy (Luke 5:21), a charge reiterated by the high
priest Caiaphas at the trial prior to Christ’s crucifixion (Matthew 26:65).
Jesus
made it clear that those who choose to follow Him will also face persecution:
“‘A servant is not greater than his master.’ If they persecuted me, they
will persecute you” (John 15:18, 20).
And
indeed they do. In April 1963, a group of clergymen, including Catholic
and Methodist bishops, criticized Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s peaceful civil
rights demonstrations as being not only “unwise and untimely” but even
“extreme.” Although today Dr. King is credited as playing a significant
role in transforming the culture for the better, these religious leaders of the
time argued that the local black community should not support his
demonstrations nor press their cause in the streets.
Not
only did Dr. King eloquently defend his tactics in his “Letter from Birmingham
Jail” (www.kingpapers.org),
he also expressed his heartfelt disappointments:
“I
have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro’s great stumbling
block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen’s Counciler or the
Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to ‘order’ than to
justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a
positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says: ‘I agree
with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct
action’; …Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating
than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance
is much more bewildering than outright rejection.
***
“…I
must honestly reiterate that I have been disappointed with the church. I
do not say this as one of those negative critics who can always find something
wrong with the church. I say this as a minister of the gospel, who loves
the church, who was nurtured in its bosom; who has been sustained by its
spiritual blessings and who will remain true to it as long as the cord of life
shall lengthen.
“When
I was suddenly catapulted into the leadership of the bus protest in Montgomery,
Alabama, a few years ago, I felt we would be supported by the white
church. I felt that the white ministers, priests and rabbis of the South
would be among our strongest allies. Instead, some have been outright opponents,
refusing to understand the freedom movement and misrepresenting its leaders;
all too many others have been more cautious than courageous and have remained
silent behind the anesthetizing security of stained-glass windows.
“In
spite of my shattered dreams, I came to Birmingham with the hope that the white
religious leadership of this community would see the justice of our cause and,
with deep moral concern, would serve as the channel through which our just
grievances could reach the power structure. I had hoped that each of you
would understand. But again I have been disappointed.
***
“…In
the midst of blatant injustices inflicted upon the Negro, I have watched white
churchmen stand on the sideline and mouth pious irrelevancies and sanctimonious
trivialities…
“I
have traveled the length and breadth of Alabama, Mississippi, and all the other
southern states. On sweltering summer days and crisp autumn mornings I
have looked at the South’s beautiful churches with their lofty spires pointing
heavenward. I have beheld the impressive outlines of her massive
religious-education buildings. Over and over I have found myself asking:
‘What kind of people worship here? Who is their God?’…
“…In
deep disappointment I have wept over the laxity of the church. But be
assured that my tears have been tears of love. There can be no deep
disappointment where there is not deep love. Yes, I love the church…”
We
at CCBR share Dr. King’s concerns about the indifference and even persecution
from within. That is not to say a religious belief should be abandoned
because of some of its leadership. Nor is it to say that if a strategy is
being criticized that the criticizers are always wrong; there are certainly inappropriate methods and
approaches just as there are appropriate ones. The point is this: when
individuals endorse or oppose a strategy, people must carefully examine the reasons behind that
position and then test its merits by examining the other side of the
argument. This is the due diligence which CCBR takes in adopting the use
of graphic images.
We
know that what we are doing is effective; furthermore,
we have well-reasoned responses to our detractors’ claims.
We find it bewildering, then, that our critics continue to object to CCBR’s use
of graphic visuals.
But,
once more, Dr. King’s response to the clergymen who opposed him provides
insight we can apply to our present-day struggle:
“Perhaps
it is easy for those who have never felt the stinging darts of segregation to
say, ‘Wait.’ But when you have seen vicious mobs lynch your mothers and
fathers at will and drown your sisters and brothers at whim; when you have seen
hate-filled policemen curse, kick and even kill your black brothers and
sisters; …when you have to concoct an answer for a five-year-old son who is
asking: ‘Daddy, why do white people treat colored people so mean?’; when you
take a cross-country drive and find it necessary to sleep night after night in
the uncomfortable corners of your automobile because no motel will accept you;
…when you are harried by day and haunted by night by the fact that you are a
Negro, living constantly at tiptoe stance, never quite knowing what to expect
next…—then you will understand why we find it difficult to wait.
***
“…I
suppose I should have realized that few members of the oppressor race can
understand the deep groans and passionate yearnings of the oppressed race, and
still fewer have the vision to see that injustice must be rooted out by strong,
persistent and determined action.”
As
I grieved over the opposition we have faced from within, I realized that
perhaps there is another reason for grieving: could it be that our detractors
don’t really understand abortion, don’t really comprehend the oppression of the
unborn? Just as it is possible for someone to hear but not listen, it is
possible for someone to know yet not understand.
Perhaps
it is easy for those who have never been aborted to say graphic abortion photos
should not be shown. Perhaps it is easy when you are not the one being
dismissed as a “blob of tissue” and disdainfully viewed as a “clump of cells”;
it is easy when you are not subjected to dismemberment, disembowelment, and
decapitation; it is easy when you aren’t the one to endure poisoning by saline
that will burn your skin; it is easy when potassium chloride isn’t injected
into your heart to induce cardiac arrest.
But
when you imagine that baby being attacked but unable to escape; when you comprehend
a baby being in a safe place only to have it invaded by a stranger who will
kill her; when that baby cannot defend herself; when you catch a glimpse of her
body parts being ripped off piece by piece; when you realize that what you know
about this baby’s plight, most people do not—then you will understand why we
use pictures.
This
is the story of the aborted unborn. This is the story that must be
told. Their cries cannot be heard—their screams are silent. But
their victimization can
be seen. It is the images of their terrible suffering that give voice to
their cries and pierce the heart of anyone with a functioning conscience.
The
story of the unborn, while unique in many respects, is a story that bears far
deeper similarities to that of any group that has suffered brutality and
mistreatment:
“[t]he
real story is the universal one of men who destroy the souls and bodies of
other men… It is the story of the persecuted, the defrauded, the feared and
detested.”
These
words were penned in 1960 by John Howard Griffin not regarding abortion but
describing the evil of segregation in the United States. But, for those
with eyes to see, his words readily apply to the story of the unborn.
Recognizing
that it is now the unborn who are the persecuted and defrauded, we at CCBR
carefully study historical injustices and learn from the brave men and women
who responded to them.
The
aforementioned writer, Griffin, authored a compelling book, Black Like Me,
which recounts first-hand how he underwent treatments in 1959 to darken his
white skin and experience “what it is like to be a Negro in a land where we
keep the Negro down”. Through his subsequent experience, he gained
critical insight into the universality of persecution and oppression: “The
Negro. The South. These are details. … I could have been a Jew in
Germany, a Mexican in a number of states, or a member of any ‘inferior’
group. Only the details would have differed. The story would be the
same.”
We
are moved by The White Rose, a book about university students who were
killed for resisting the Nazis and for encouraging others to do the same.
One of the students perceptively asked the following:
“…Isn’t
it preposterous that we sit in our rooms and study how to heal mankind when on
the outside the state every day sends countless young people to their
death? What in the world are we waiting for? Until one day the war
is over and all nations point to us and say that we accepted this government
without resisting?”
The
book also reports about the cover-up of injustice by German newspapers:
“They
made no mention of the fact that day after day not one but dozens of executions
took place. God knows the newsreel cameras never got inside the prisons
which were crowded to bursting, though the inmates resembled ghosts and
skeletons rather than human bodies. They did not film the pale, drawn
faces behind the bars…”
One
of the students, Christl, had conviction and insight that all people of good
will should heed:
“Then
it is our duty by our behavior and by our dedication to demonstrate that man’s
freedom still exists. Sooner or later the cause of humanity must be
upheld, and then one day it will again prevail. We must gamble our ‘No’
against this power which has arrogantly placed itself above the essential human
values and which is determined to root out all protest. We must do it for
the sake of life itself—no one can absolve us of this responsibility.”
We
are inspired by the film Hotel Rwanda, which tells the story of one man
who risked his life many times to save over a thousand refugees from the
Rwandan genocide. We are emboldened by the efforts of Oskar Schindler,
who saved more than twelve hundred Jews from the Holocaust, and by the example
of Mahatma Gandhi, leader of the Indian Independence movement who confronted
British colonialists regarding their mistreatment of Indians. We draw
strength from the determination of those who fought to free the slaves of the
British Empire and from the courageousness of Lewis Hine, who photographically
exposed the plight of child labourers in the beginning of the twentieth
century.
Our
studies have taught us unmistakably clear lessons: victims always want their
sufferings to be known. And the people who respond to their plight do so
because they have become intimately aware of the injustice. They know
about good and they know about evil. Their knowledge of evil convicts
them; their knowledge of good motivates them. Having seen both life and death (Deuteronomy
30:19), they fight for the lives of the oppressed. It is through the
exposure of injustice that they and others are convicted to respond. Dr.
King expressed this very point as well:
“…we
who engage in nonviolent direct action are not the creators of tension.
We merely bring to the surface the hidden tension that is already alive.
We bring it out in the open, where it can be seen and dealt with. Like a
boil that can never be cured so long as it is covered up but must be opened
with all its ugliness to the natural medicines of air and light, injustice must
be exposed, with all the tension its exposure creates, to the light of human
conscience and the air of national opinion before it can be cured.”
Today
there is no debate about the use of graphic imagery to convey injustices from the past;
it is a “no-brainer.” People pore through history textbooks that contain
graphic images; they flock to museums that show images of yesterday’s
injustices; they line up to watch movies that convey the mistreatment of
peoples by previous generations.
Why,
then, is there a debate today about the use of abortion imagery? For the simple reason
that such imagery shows a present
atrocity not a past
one. The guilt of historical crimes lies with our ancestors, not
us. The guilt of present-day crimes lies with no one but ourselves. It is
easy to say, “Shame on them.” It is difficult to admit, “Shame on us.”
It
has been eleven years since I was in grade 10, yet I remember a poignant story
one of my teachers told: when he himself was in high school, an outcast student
was grabbed by a group of bullies. They stripped him naked, put him in a
net, and hoisted him up the school’s flag pole. Another student, outraged
at the injustice, stood up in defense of the frightened, victimized teen, only
to have the same degradation inflicted upon him. A crowd of other
students watched this evil play out; my teacher was one of them.
As
he told us this story, he asked, “Looking back, if I could have taken the place
of anyone there, who do you think I wish I would have been?” He answered
himself, “The student who was mistreated for standing in defense of the
victimized boy.”
Whenever
an injustice occurs, we have one of four roles to play: the victim, the
persecutor, the bystander, or the defender. We may not have a choice
about the first role, but we certainly do about the latter three. We can
be guaranteed that if we follow our consciences and become defenders of the
weak and vulnerable, we too will face mistreatment, not only from persecutors
but even from bystanders who are being put to shame. Enduring this we
must contemplate, “Am I now seeking the favour of men, or of God?” (Galatians
1:10).
Written
by Stephanie Gray with Brendan Huang
Canadian
Centre for Bio-Ethical Reform
March
2007
