A Moment of Grace for...Planned Parenthood?

Today the Center for Medical Progress released a third undercover video of Planned Parenthood staff talking nonchalantly about "procuring" intact organs after an abortion. Typically, the Center (a pro-life fact-finding organization which presented itself to Planned Parenthood as a "tissue procurement" middleman) provides an edited video for sharing on social media, with the unedited or complete footage available on line as well.

There has been a bit of an escalation as we have gone from one video to the next, with the tone becoming (as if that were even possible) more callous and matter of fact about the challenges of modifying a procedure (the abortion) in order to harvest the greatest number of usable organs, and the best approach to handling the "fees" the organization expects for this service to science. Today's video, we are warned, is extremely graphic. I have decided to stick with transcriptions rather than subject my memory to the images of an unspeakable horror.

In this continuing public relations nightmare, Planned Parenthood has attempted several different approaches, typically describing the video producers as violent lawbreakers while apologizing for the insenstive "tone" of the doctors whose frankness about dollars and cents doesn't square with the "caring" image the organization has spent so much money fostering. The reactions to the revelations has also left PP official sputtering that the videographers failed to get signed releases for the filming, and used "deception" to spread "false tissue donation rumors". Since the video released today shows the actual remains of aborted babies, Planned Parenthood even has the gall to accuse the videographers of violating patient privacy (since the mothers did not sign a consent form for their child to appear on camera?). (A press release warned the news media not to make the mistake of putting any of this content on the air, lest they, too, fall afoul of the law.)

Yet I pray that this a "moment of grace" for Planned Parenthood, the way "hitting bottom" is a mysterious moment of grace for an addict. These videos (and those to come) are holding a harsh mirror to an organization that, for decades, has promoted itself as the best friend of modern woman. Hopefully, many of the women who have trusted Planned Parenthood to look out for their best interest are now seeing what the organization really looks out for, and will go elsewhere. Hopefully, many of the women who work for or volunteer at Planned Parenthood will find that their desire to help women in need has been manipulated in favor of the bottom line, and will look for more positive ways to accompany women in need. Hopefully, even the well-compensated hierarchy of Planned Parenthood will feel the first healthy waves of shame that can invite them to re-evaluate the time and mental energy they have devoted to a destructive cause.

Abby Johnson (former director of Planned Parenthood and author of unPlanned) remembers when she was involved in harvesting fetal organs for Planned Parenthood. She helped establish "And Then There Were None," an organization that helps abortion industry personnel transition out of the sickening business. (It's not as easy as saying "I quit!"; people need jobs, but they also need healing.)

Pray also that in some way known only to God, these horrible revelations will provoke a moment of grace in women who, having had abortions at Planned Parenthood, signed forms donating the "tissue" for research. Many of them might have thought that the good of  medical research could offset the harm and loss of the abortion itself. The fact that Planned Parenthood coldly calculated just what "fees" it could gain for process and handling their babies' body parts may traumatize these women; it is important that we not only pray for them in this delicate hour, but be very careful of what we say (and how we say it) with regard to women who have had recourse to abortion out of fear, desperation, force or ignorance (an ignorance Planned Parenthood has worked hard to foster).

Read about the mission of "And Then There Were None" in their newsletter archives, and you'll see grace at work. We could be witnessing a moment of grace even now.

Update: Here's a first-hand description of an unlikely moment of grace for one former abortion clinic counselor: http://www.harvestisabundant.blogspot.com/2015/07/how-many-women-did-i-counsel-for-second.html?m=1

An out-of-the-way New Orleans Must-See for Catholics

Like most New Orleans Catholics, I grew up at least slightly aware of "Father Seelos," a kind Redemptorist who had spent just over a year in the city--almost a hundred years before I was born. Those months happened to coincide with a yellow fever epidemic which claimed the 48-year-old priest's life. In his all-too-brief ministry, the saintly Bavarian made a huge impression, and the city claimed him as one of its own, despite the much better claims of Baltimore (where he was ordained) and Pittsburgh (where he followed St John Neumann as pastor of St Philomena's parish).

Holy cards of "Servant of God Francis X. Seelos" were as common as
images of Our Lady of Prompt Succor. When my Dad's cousin Thomas was diagnosed with terminal colon cancer, we didn't just visit him: we pinned a relic of Father Seelos on his hospital gown. (Tommy lived another ten years, caring for his wife through her ordeal with Alzheimer's, and, mission accomplished, followed her in death three weeks later.) When Mom was dying, I held a first class relic of Father (now Blessed) Seelos in her hand, counting on him and Our Lady to escort her to God's presence.

So why is it that until this summer I had never visited the Assumption Church where Father Seelos was parish priest, and where he was buried? Maybe because it was in an unfamiliar, out-of-the-way part of the city. All I can really say is that the opportunity never really came up, and I never actually pursued it. Until Sister Julia Mary (on her "good bye tour" of the city) posted pictures from the Seelos Shrine on Facebook and I saw what I had been missing. The GPS app on my phone showed that Assumption Church was not all that far from the Quarter, and we really could find our way there without too much trouble. I convinced my sisters to make a visit part of our "French Quarter Day" on a sweltering Saturday.

Now in my office.

For some reason, I wasn't all that keen on beginning at the clearly marked Visitor's Center. (I preferred to be more discreet!) But that is the only way in: the Church doors facing the street are bolted shut. (I tried them. Both.) Happily, when we rang the bell, it was my sister Jane's best friend who was on volunteer duty that day. She was thrilled to see us (and even admitted praying that we would be able to connect that weekend, somehow). She showed us the well-prepared one-minute "tour" presenting the Blessed's life and artifacts (none of us felt called to imitate the "Cheerful Ascetic" in his penitential practices, though seeing his "cilicium" really made me question my own expectations of comfort and pain-free living). There was even a wax museum-style depiction of his
last pastoral act: visiting and anointing a man who was dying of yellow fever. (After leaving the man's bedside, Father Seelos returned to the parish and collapsed, stricken with his own final illness.) The gift shop was well-stocked and comfortable (so much for penances!): I even got a small statue for my office shrine, and bonus holy cards for anyone who hasn't yet heard of the good Father.

Finally, a group of us were escorted to the Shrine itself, its entry facing a lawn where once Father
Seelos' rectory had stood. (The approximate spot of his room was marked.) There is a long foyer with a winning statue of Father Seelos, and several paintings of his life and ministry (including the time he spent with St John Neumann, his novice director), as well as the narrow old casket in which he was first buried. In a chapel, a large and ornate reliquary, modeled on Bavarian architecture, holds the Blessed's mortal remains. Overlooking it is a Bavarian statue of Our Lady which first arrived at the parish during Father Seelos' tenure, and which he himself had blessed. A shrine volunteer held a  Crucifix (it is connected to the miracle which led to Seelos' beatification in 2000) and invited each us us in turn to bless ourselves with the Crucifix and to entrust our intentions to Seelos' intercession. She then led us in a spontaneous prayer. ("I have a learning disability," she explained, "and I just haven't been able to memorize the official prayer.") We also had time to visit the fabulous Church with its hand-carved high altar and the soaring pulpit (hand-carved) from which Father Seelos preached.

It was too hot (the heat index was well over 100º) to spend much time outside, but the area between the Visitor Center and the Church seemed ideal for a day of retreat; the life-sized statue of Jesus in Gethsemane really inspired the desire to "stay with Me."

So, if you find yourself in need of some spiritual refreshment while in New Orleans, the Seelos shrine is definitely one landmark you won't want to miss!

Robert E. Lee and the dignity of defeat

While I was visiting my family in the Deep South, verbal battles raged on social media and in the

local newspapers about the desirability of removing all monuments to Confederate leaders, and renaming streets and squares. The murders in Charleston, inspired by (or at least blamed on) a romantic notion of the Confederacy as some sort of lost glory for the white race, rendered every one of those tributes questionable. Ideas were floated in New Orleans to rename avenues like the Jeff Davis Parkway after notable African-American contributors to the city (Xavier University President Norman Francis was one of the suggested honorees). The mayor recently proposed dismantling the monument in Lee Circle, but this is one monument that was not a belated attempt on the part of the KKK to create a past in its own image, having first been dedicated in 1877, less than twelve years after Lee's surrender.

I think Robert E. Lee is the one Confederate leader we ought to recognize with honor. Not because he led an army. Not because he fought for slavery or under the more palatable (and universally acceptable) banner of "states rights." We need Robert E. Lee as an example of dignity in defeat, just as we need to recognize Ulysses S. Grant not only as a President, but as a general who did not demean his adversary or place a crippling burden on the surrendering army. Lee and Grant saw a greater good at stake than the victory of one or the other army: their war correspondence acknowledges the desire to stem the loss of blood and property on both sides. That was what the surrender at Appomattox sought; that was the only motivation Lee had to put pen to paper.

So many times in social media, the climate really does resemble a battle in which the favored weapon is the ad hominem comment, with the lawsuit running a close second. It is not enough that florists and bakers be ordered to provide a product or service; they must receive crippling fines and sentences to re-education programs, and forever bear, in references on social media by the victorious party, the scarlet letter (H for "hater"). They are the losers. They aren't allowed anything but scorn.

That is why I would prefer to see New Orleans' Lee Circle remain as it is: not as a monument to the supposed glories of the Old South (New Orleans never did really fit in to that "Gone with the Wind" image), but as a reminder of the immense dignity even of the defeated, and an exhortation not to crow over the loser, or heap punishments upon them (history proves that this only creates resentment and leads to new wars). The stature of Robert E. Lee testifies that, even when someone is "on the wrong side of history," there can still be much about them that deserves honor.

Convent update

The summer season in our Pauline community is generally the time for the celebrations of vows and jubilees, as well as entrance into novitiate. This centenary summer has than the usual number of celebrations: we already marked our centenary in a solemn way with Cardinal O'Malley, and shortly after that witnessed Sr Emi Magnificat's perpetual profession of vows.

This Saturday we will celebrate our sisters' Jubilees: Sister Mary Jerome and Sister Hosea mark 25 years of vowed life; Sister Mary Agnes, 60 years, and 99-year-old Sister Mary Augusta, 75 years. The next day, the novitiate will expand to welcome three young women who have completed the two-year postulancy in St. Louis. And then on Monday, we will witness (as far as possible in this life) the completion of that journey, laying to rest Sister Mary Gabriella, who slipped away from this life while I was home visiting my family. The death notice sent to all the communities noted that Sister Mary Gabriella (who had been declining visibly all year, but was still mostly mobile) did not finish her journey here without first finishing dessert: thin as a rail, she had a prodigious sweet tooth and her local superior had brought a last, welcome treat up to her room just hours before she died.

Some years back, I asked Sister Mary Gabriella a bit of her vocation story, and a few anecdotes about her life as a Pauline, including her experience as a missionary in Pakistan.


May she rest in peace.

Blessed Alberione's Travel Prayer

I'm off! Time for me to visit family, sleep in and read, read, read! That's right: vacation! I was happy to find a direct flight to New Orleans (they're sure not easy to come by), but I will still be praying Blessed James Alberione's safe driving prayer, which seems to cover all the angles, especially that wherever I go, I spread the "good perfume of Christ" to all I encounter.

Jesus-Truth,
Enlighten me to travel only and always in charity and with my gaze fixed on Heaven, my ultimate destination.

Jesus-Way,
Be my guide, that I may have complete self-control, a sure eye and constant moderation.

Jesus-Life,
Whever I go, be for me and for those whom I accompany or meet, joy of spirit and salvation of soul and body.

My Guardian Angel, kindly precede me and guard me.

Amen.