I’ve been to the March for Life many times over the years, but this year I was particularly struck by the eye-popping contrast between the attitudes of the pro-life participants and of the few pro-aborts that appeared along the way. Never had I noticed such a dichotomy between the joy and hope in the pro-life movement and the bitterness, anger and pain felt by those who call themselves pro-choice.
The night before the March, as we gathered in joyful and hopeful prayer at the Human Rights Monument, a heckler from across the street couldn’t stop himself from screaming, so deep was his anger. He screamed that he wished that our mothers had aborted all of us. Essentially, that means he wishes we were dead. In return, we added an intercession for him in our prayer service.
During the March, as we arrived at the corner of Elgin and Lisgar streets, there were a few dozen pro-aborts with signs, just like last year. They were angry and vulgar in the way they behaved as we passed by. Everything they said and chanted was about me, me, me. My rights. My body. My ovaries. So self-centred and self-absorbed. They scream for their own rights, while we stand up for the rights of others, not our own. Such a contrast. I felt sorry for them.
As the March continued, we turned the corner at Bank and Laurier. On the sidewalk, was a young lady of about 20 years old. When she saw us, she literally went hysterical. There’s no other way to describe it. I’m not exaggerating. She was screaming at the top of her voice, waving her hands, pacing up and down, on the verge of crying, extremely anxious and disconcerted. I suspect that she’s had a bad experience with abortion and is in need of deep healing. I pray for her.
Two blocks further north, when we reached Albert Street, there was another young lady standing by herself with a coffee in one hand and her middle finger sticking out prominently on her other hand. She didn’t say anything, she just stood there and offered everybody her finger. Even as young kids were walking by her and staring at her finger, she didn’t have the decency to pull it down. Suddenly, a man in the March screamed to her “We love you too! Would you like a hug?” The young lady didn’t know how to respond.
My friends, the momentum is shifting. Even as our adversaries show persistence and resilience in defending their cause, we can read in their attitude and body language that they are deeply wounded. Their destructive “choices” have taken a toll on them. Many of them are bruised, battered, desperate. That’s not a sustainable position. As they abort and contracept themselves into oblivion, their numbers will dwindle with every passing generation.
More importantly, we know that Christ will triumph in the end, even if it takes 1 million years. So we have the assurance of being on the winning side. That’s something to be very hopeful about.