There Is No Fear In Love

In 1968, a Stanford biologist named Paul Ehrlich wrote a best-seller titled "The Population Bomb." The premise? We have surpassed the ability of the earth to sustain life at its current population trajectory. Ehrlich predicted that by 1990 half of Americans would die of starvation because there would be too many mouths to feed and not enough food; India and China would simply die out, as would England by the year 2,000.  To stave off the population explosion--our only chance of survival--forced sterilization was seen as justifiable and necessary to prevent future lives and mouths to feed ("Coercion?" he wrote, "Perhaps. But coercion in a good cause.") Compulsory abortion, too, as a "solution to the problem."

"Indeed, it has been concluded that compulsory population-control laws, even including laws requiring compulsory abortion, could be sustained under the existing Constitution if the population crisis became sufficiently severe to endanger the society."

I grew up as a very fearful and anxious kid. I worried about everything--breaking down in a car away from home on family vacation; global warming; scarcity of resources; overpopulation, you name it. I was elected our high school's Environmental Club president my senior year, and spent much of that time raising awareness about the extinction of bison or something in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. So, I was aware of the kinds of issues Ehrlich wrote about in his book, and a sense of urgency and panic unless something drastic was DONE RIGHT NOW to save our planet was the vibe du jour in the mid 90's. If you would have asked me if the "solutions" proposed by Ehrlich in The Population Bomb--abortion, forced sterilizations, population control--were justifiable, well...look at the alternative. We don't really have a choice. As Ehrlich admitted in later years, "I expressed more certainty because I was trying to bring people to get something done." The book sold 2 million copies, and there are still people alive today to read it, (should they choose to waste their time in that way.)

Fear is a strong motivator. It wasn't even a year ago that the news was streaming with alarm bells about the Zika virus and pregnancy. In the U.S., according to a Harvard poll, 59% of Americans believed abortion should be permitted after 24 weeks if there is a "serious possibility of microcephaly due to Zika. Demand for abortion more than doubled in Brazil and Equador. But the alarmism outpaced the reality, with tragic consequences: Of the 628 abortion requests in Brazil attributed to Zika concerns, only six to 83 children would have actually been affected. In other words, for every possible child affected with microcephaly, 7 to 113 unaffected pregnancies would have been terminated due to fear of the virus.

I'm told that in the U.S., 87% of children with downs syndrome are never born, but aborted. Whenever Deb and I go to the doctor after a pregnancy, we are asked if we want genetic testing, I suppose to determine these kinds of things ahead of time. We always decline, but it's still a jarring proposition, because the implication is that termination of the pregnancy is always an option should anything come up.

We thank God for our two healthy kids (and remember our two that we hope to see in Heaven someday). But I wonder sometimes if we fashion idols in the process. "Boy or girl, either is great," we're told, "as long as they are healthy, that's all that matters." "You are blessed to have two healthy kids."

But what if we have a child that is not born healthy? What if we have a child with health issues, genetic abnormalities, or worse? What then? It would be wrong of me to act as if I don't think about these things, of have a degree of anxiety about their possibility. And I'll share something else with you, too: the only thing that keeps me from losing sleep in perpetuity on the matter...is my faith.

When Deb and I were married, in the same vein as my parents, we established that divorce was never an option for us. There is no Plan B. I think not having that option on the table has been beneficial for our marriage, but truth be told it is because of the Church's teaching on the matter, and that we have faith that that is not God's plan, for as Jesus said to those ask it is lawful to divorce one's wife, "Have you not read that from the beginning the Creator made them male and female...therefore what God has joined together, no human being must separate" (Mt 19:4-6). We are in a valid sacramental marriage, with no valid out, save death (haha), so we are forced by necessity to work out whatever we need to because there's no other valid option; we have no choice. Marriage is hard enough, without the temptation for the option to divorce. If it was on the table, I think it would too tempting to not use it when things get bad.

Divorce is to the death of a marriage as abortion is to the death of a child--both presented as viable options in the culture should things "not work out." It takes a radical trust, and to a degree a certain kind of stubborn conviction and sometimes a simple gritty obedience, to say "I choose life" in the midst of incredible odds stacked against life. I was reminded of this in an incredibly moving story about a family that did just this when they discovered the child they were carrying had Trisomy 18, a genetic disorder their doctor emphatically stated "was incompatible with life." He advised termination of the pregnancy. "Get this behind you quickly," he told the mother "and get on with your life. You can try again." The baby, if she survived more than a few minutes after birth, would in any case most likely be so deformed as to be completely dependent and never have a "normal life." But she wouldn't live anyway, so termination was really the only logical choice.

But the doctor, like Paul Ehrlich and his predictions about half of America dying out from famine, was wrong: Krissy survived. And not just for a few minutes, but (at the time of the article's publication) fifteen years and counting. She is completely dependent, cannot feed herself, and cannot speak. But her mother describes her as "the greatest teacher I've ever had" for her, her husband, and Krissy's four brothers.

I don't know any other institution--human or divine--that so firmly and uncompromisingly stands for the dignity of LIFE in all its stages, "from conception to natural death" than the Catholic Church. The Church and those who adhere to her teachings have taught me a lot about fear and trust.  When you operate under the illusion of control--control of your life, control of the future, etc--everything is a cause for anxiety. But for someone with a childlike faith--the kind of faith worthy of emulation--they simply trust that they are in good hands. This is why I love St. Therese of Liseux's spirituality, her "Little Way." She recognizes, with absolute conviction, that she is nothing without God, can do nothing apart from Him. Her "way" is complete and total dependance on God as Father, as well as offering her suffering to the Lord as a means of sanctification.

One night when I was struggling with this call to be open to life (a struggle that lasted years), however and whenever it may come, I googled "Catholic babies fear" and came across a blog written by a woman named Leila about trusting the Lord...even with your fertility. I wrote her an email and she graciously wrote back a few days later. It was encouraging because she recognized the role fear plays in the kinds of decisions we make, even and especially when those fears keep us from following the will of God for our lives. But she was kind of a fearless woman, and that lack of fear came from a confidence in trust that the Lord means what he says, that He truly loves us and wants only what is best for us (if we would only listen to him), and that the Catholic Church is the church established by Christ to impart His teachings authentically and through the divine inspiration of the Holy Spirit--God Himself. She encouraged me to trust and not fear, to not pay heed to the cultural narrative that is so strong that sees babies as burdens to pay for, rather than gifts from God to be celebrated and thankful for, and not to play into the fear. It softened my heart just enough for God to start working. I don't know what's coming, but I pray for God's grace to be able handle it, and it helps me to rest easy. "I lie down in peace and sleep comes at once, for you alone Lord make me dwell in safety." (Ps 4:8)

Why is it so hard to trust? Why do we give into fear? I suppose it carried over from the Fall, when Adam and Even listened to the lies from something other than the source of Truth itself. The consequences of listening to the wrong voice were catastrophic. Even today, the lies, the whispers from the culture persist, and millions of lives lost as a result. The only antidote to the lies is to get to know the Good Shepherd's voice so we are not led astray. As we grow in love through trust, fear is edged out, for "there is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love." (1 John 4:18)

Those who make it through, those born--even with the most severe of physical and mental deformities, whose parents trusted when nothing made sense--are precious teachers, who teach us--sometimes through suffering--a suffering we probably would not have chosen for ourselves--and sometimes through joy, the kind that comes with utter and complete dependance with no room for ego. They are marked by complete reliance on those who love them, those who care for them. I have to believe--for other families, and maybe even our own, should God choose it--that they come to teach us a Little Way, to take us by the hand and help us home, in a way completely confounding to the world. For the Kingdom belongs to such as these.