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April 17, 2008

DISCOURSE ON ABORTION AND DIVORCE

BY IVAN ERICKSON

AUTHOR OF “SONG OF THE STORM WINDS”

INTRODUCTION:

Greetings to all in the peace, love and grace of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ!

The following excerpt from my novel, “Song of the Storm Winds” is part of a conversation between Father James Madigan, fictional president of the University of Notre Dame, and some friends whom he is visiting in South Bend. Some of you readers may find the discourse on abortion offensive, especially if you or a loved one or ones have had to suffer through the tumultuous mind, body and soul rending experience of this tragedy, of which the late Pope John Paul II has termed, “The Slaughter of the Innocents.” It was in sadness and with an excruciating pain in my heart that I decided to write those words that I felt most inspired to write, with the hope that this message – though too late for those poor souls who have already suffered through this trial – will inspire myriads in the future, who are at any time contemplating abortion, not to surrender to their misguided “storm winds” that are assailing their beloved minds, hearts and souls, at this spirit rending time under the darkness of the sun. Before giving in to the temptation to have an abortion, each woman must ask herself whether these dark thoughts come from God, or from Satan and the bottomless abyss in which It resides. Do not allow yourselves, oh beloved daughters of God and sisters of Jesus Christ, to be induced into becoming a victim of “The Slaughter of an Innocent Mother’s Precious Spirit.” If you are one of those poor souls who has had a child aborted – if you have not already made your peace with God – please know that our beloved Jesus is waiting with open arms to embrace you, to forgive you, and to tell you that he will love you all the days of your life on this earth without end, and in heaven, forever more.

As the reader will note, this novel was written at the time that our beloved Pope John Paul II was still living.

EXCERPT ON ABORTION AND DIVORCE: FROM CHAPTER 18 OF “SONG OF THE STORM WINDS”:

“You touched briefly on two transgressions in our society that are probably the two most highly debated in modern times, Reverend,” affirmed Kenneth. “These, of course, are divorce and abortion. All of us here know countless people who have been involved in either one, or both, of these transgressions of God’s laws. Do you not think that the current Catholic Church, under the leadership of Pope John Paul – who is overtly and extremely outspoken against both abortion and divorce – is the cause for some of the dissension in our Church? Do you agree with the strong stand that he has taken against these current trends? It would seem to me that in the light of the high numbers of both divorces and abortions in the world, especially here in the U.S., a softer, perhaps more lenient approach is necessary, in order to keep the people from rebelling. Would a more lenient decree and a relaxing of Church canon keep more young people from falling away from the teachings of the Catholic or Christian church to which they once belonged? Would not a more permissive approach benefit exceedingly, to deter the younger generation especially from establishing their own set of laws – their own ‘moral code’, so to speak, as a myriad of them are already doing?”

Father Madigan had listened intently to the words of his good friend, Kenneth, and to his questions. When Kenneth had finished speaking, Reverend Madigan scratched his beard, as he contemplated his answer. His eyes and countenance portrayed the grief in his heart and in his spirit – as the inspired, tenor voice of that beautiful spirit, Andrea Bocelli, was heard on the stereo singing with chorus, in Italian, the romantic, yet plaintive, ‘Sogno’ (dream), by G. Vessicchio and G. Servillo. He then spoke thus:

“I thank the good LORD, our God and Father, that He has given the people of this modern world His beautiful saints to set the example and to speak words of wisdom to those of us who listen. They have helped steer many of God’s people to that narrow path in life that leads us to the Gate, Jesus Christ – who, in turn, will one day lead us to his Father in Heaven. There have been many of these saintly ones, but those that come to mind first are Pope John Paul II, Mother Teresa, Billy Graham and Martin Luther King, Jr. If all of the people of the world would read the words, listen to the words and follow the example of these beautiful saints – along with all the words of God – we would not have the terrible afflictions of divorce, abortions, racial prejudice, poverty, starvation and unrepentant sinners that abound in this world today.

I have a story that I wish to relate to each of you here, which I sincerely believe will give all of you a greater insight into the tragedies of both abortion and divorce.

In the early morning hour of each day – when I arise to kneel and do my meditation – it is at this time when I am in the Spirit, that I hear the cries of despair, loneliness, anguish and the screams and pleas for help from the children of the world – those little ones of God, who are most dear to us all. It is at this time that I come the closest to understanding the grief that our LORD and Savior Jesus Christ underwent, when He suffered the agony in the garden and his sweat became as droplets of blood. My own heart and spirit cry out in anguish, when I hear the cries of seemingly myriads of God’s little children, wailing so pathetically and forlornly for our help, like the ethereal ‘music of the spheres’.

Years ago, when I first began to hear these cries during my meditation, I did not understand from whence they came, nor did I understand the reason for the anguish of these children. But over a period of time, and after much prayer and meditation, I was given wisdom and understanding to help me discern the answers I so diligently sought. It seems that the cries were coming from two distinctly separate groups of little ones – one of the living, and the other… of the dead.

It was the cries of those who were dead that I first meditated on. These cries were the faintest to my ears and I came to understand that I only imagined these cries, because only God Himself can in actuality hear them. But they are real, nonetheless. These are the pathetic, soul rending cries of all of those victims of what Pope John Paul so aptly termed, ‘the slaughter of the innocents!’ These are the babes of the world who have been aborted! The reason for the wailing, the grief, the despair and the loneliness of these poor little babes should not be a mystery to any of us here, who have experienced love.

Once, in a dreamlike state of my meditation, the spirit of one of these precious souls appeared to me and spoke thus to my spirit:

‘In horror, anguish and in the silent screams of my soul, I was torn from my mommy’s womb like a cancerous tumor and discarded in a waste receptacle, prior to the time that I had been designated to be born! Since that tormenting moment, my wailing cries, unheard by mankind, have joined the chorus of countless others like myself, who rail in anguish all of our days and nights without end. I wail in anguish for the same reason that the others do – because I am in darkness, whether you on earth are experiencing day or night and because I am unloved.

I cry out to my mother and my father over and over again, asking them to tell me why they did not want me! How could they not want me, when they did not even know me? But my question goes unanswered and the darkness of confusion continues to enshroud my poor soul, days and nights without end. Myriads of others like me continue to ask – "why?" I myself am overflowing with a love, which I was destined to give to my parents, all the days of their lives – till they were laid to rest, till they were in this world never more.

I wail in the darkness, because I was never allowed to see the light of day. I will never nurse at my mother’s breast, or sit in her lap, or be in her arms, or feel her kisses on my face – as I so long to experience. I will never learn to walk, to talk and to tell my parents how much I love them – with hugs, kisses and words all the days of my sojourn on earth.

Before I was torn from my mother’s womb and discarded like a tumor, I thought that I was going to be a very special person – someone unique – to bring joy and happiness into my parents' lives, to light up their whole day with my smile. I have special talents, which would have made them both so very proud of me, you see.

I cry out in anguish for the brothers and the sisters that I never had the chance to get to know – the brothers and sisters with whom I would have grown up and shared in their play, their joys and their sorrows – the brothers and the sisters that I never had the chance to show my love and to experience their love – all the days of our lives without end. I cry out in anguish for all the little friends whom I will never have – whom I was to play with, to share with, to grow up with and to love and be loved by – all the days without end.

I cry out in anguish, loneliness and despair because I will never experience falling in love and marrying that special person whom God had created to be my mate, for the children that I never will have, for the grandchildren that I will never have, for my children’s-children’s-children that I will never have, even to the thousandth generation – 'til the end of time. Even in heaven, I will be heartbroken still, because I will not have the children or the descendants that I might have had, to take into my arms, to love and cherish for all eternity without end and forevermore.

And so, good Reverend Madigan, whose tears, love and kindness I have felt though, I cannot see you… that is why I and other poor babies like me cry out in anguish, loneliness and despair all our days and nights without end. We are in anguish and we rail in our loneliness, despair and sadness because we have all this love within us to give, but no one to bestow our love upon. We are in anguish, because we ourselves are unloved all of our days and nights under the darkness of the sun. I repeat, our days and nights are the same, because all is darkness to us! We do not understand. We do not know why we are unloved. We were never given the chance to show our mommies and our daddies how very special and precious God has created us to be.

So, now, in our loneliness, we will continue to cry out in the darkness, in despair – now and forever – until Jesus Christ returns at the end of time. For it is in Jesus whom all of us poor babies will be Resurrected and carried by Him into heaven, where we will live in the love and the light of the Blessed Trinity – for all eternity without end.

What am I to say to my mother and father, when I meet them face-to-face in the hereafter, Reverend Madigan? I think that I will take each of them in my arms, kiss them and hug them and tell them that I still love them – and that I will love them… throughout all eternity… and forevermore.’

The precious little spirit then disappeared, as I meditated in a dreamlike state and I have not seen it since,” Father Madigan related. “But sometimes in my meditations late at night, in the innermost recesses of my private chambers – where not even the light of the moon or the stars can penetrate, where the only light is that which comes from within me – I can still feel its precious presence and hear its lonely wails, which join in a chorus with myriads of other aborted babies, like the faraway music of the spheres, as they cry out in the darkness for the love and the life that they have been denied for all their… lonely nights… without end.”

Father Madigan ceased speaking at this time. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and covered his face with it as he sobbed audibly with tears of grief. Everyone in the room had to reach for a handkerchief or a tissue, as they all shed their tears copiously with the good Priest. After a short time, Father Madigan regained his composure and apologized for shedding tears in their presence, for he was quite embarrassed. They all thanked him and gave him words of praise and love for sharing his precious experience with them. Then, a few of them urged him to continue with his discourse, which he then did, as he spoke thus:

“I previously stated that the cries of the children, which I hear sometimes in my meditation in the early hours of the morning, come from two distinct groups. I have told you just now of the source of the first group, the little lost souls of the aborted babies. I will now tell you of the source for the second group, which are poured out from the hearts and souls of the living. These cries for help – these cries of loneliness, sadness, despair, confusion, anguish and disillusionment – are much louder and more discernible to me. And I hear these mournful cries not only in my meditation, but in my wakeful hours as well. They come from the myriad of poor little souls in this country, who are the innocent victims of the parent, or of the parents, who have been divorced one or more times. I have been involved in talking to, praying with and counseling parents and children caught up in the throes of divorce on countless occasions. Most of these occurred before I took over as President of Notre Dame, but I still work and pray with those people, whenever I can.

There was one particular family that came to me for help several years ago, when I was the Pastor in a city that I will not name. I will not name the city and will use only fictitious names of these people, to protect their privacy.

One Saturday, in the fall of the year, when I was in my private office engrossed in the final preparation of my homily for that particular weekend’s masses, I was buzzed on the intercom by my administrative assistant, Kathleen, from the front office of the rectory. She informed me that a mother, father and their four children wished to speak privately with me. I immediately went out to the front office and was introduced by Kathleen to a young, handsome and successful appearing couple, whose names were Bill and Ruth Ann.