The Poor Among Us: Why We Go To Guatemala

“Guatemala is not enough,“ bemoaned a fellow theology teacher, a man who leads student mission trips to Central America.  As we sat a retreat house after visiting a Guatemalan garbage dump community he explained,  “I have too many conservative students and parents saying, 'Gosh, the poor in our country don’t know how good they have it.'”   He is a man who prioritizes social justice in his religious and political views, and although I am not an adamant proponent of liberation theology or progressive moral theologians, I also found my heart speeding up with frustration at the idea that students did not understand why they went to Guatemala, that so many did not take to heart the plight of the impoverished in their own cities, their own schools, their own families.  And so I asked myself: why do we go to Guatemala? 

 

While talking to a group of rising seniors at an all boys high school who were serving in Guatemala, there was clearly one story that had affected them most deeply.  It had occurred during their first hours in Guatemala just a week before my arrival.  I know that the young men had gone to Guatemala City’s largest cemetery to lookout over the city garbage dump.  They had seen for the first of many times that week: thousands of humans looking for recyclables, sorting quickly through dump truck loads of trash, looking from afar much more like ants swarming over a rotten piece of food than individuals with the great dignity of being children of God.  But to this sight, the overpowering smell of methane gas, the hundreds of circling vultures, the young men quickly became accustomed.  In fact, they never described this scene to me.  But what clearly did leave a lasting impression was their encounter with death.   

On top of that lookout, the young men learned that the average lifespan of people in the dump community is less than 55 years of age; disease, amputations, and deaths from truck/worker accidents are not uncommon. Looking around the cemetery, the young men saw bones lying at the foot of broken tombs - the leftover contents of tombs whose bodies were dumped into the garbage to be searched for valuables when the tomb upkeep fee was not paid.   

The high school boys went from this site to the home of a student who attends the free school that they were helping to build on the outskirts of the dump.  While the dump outlook was eye-opening and the scattered bones unnerving, nothing prepared the team for what they would encounter most personally in the invasion community home that they visited next.  When they arrived at the house, they found out that the nine month old daughter of the family had died just hours before and was lying out in state in the family’s squalid one room shack.  They were invited to enter.  Knowing that many of the boys had not seen a dead person, let alone an unembalmed nine month old girl in the presence of her weeping mother and stoic father, their teacher decided to pray for the family outside of the home.  The father and mother joined them.  Each boy shook the hand of the father.  Each expressed his condolences in a mix of broken Spanish and simple English.  The baby had Down Syndrome and was unable to receive the medical attention needed for her heart.  Not a day had not gone by when these boys did not talk about this experience - the pain of shaking the father’s hand.  Beginning their mission work with this encounter with death, the boys spent the rest of their week working with children, half dead themselves: living in the midst of incredible poverty, disease, physical and sexual abuse, alcoholism, hunger, violence, and torn families.

And so one can imagine someone saying “the poor people in our city don’t realize how lucky they are.”  When a person who believes that “poor people are lazy and entitled” encounter this, he has one of two options: to change his presumption or make an exception, “poor people are lazy and entitled except those hardworking, tragic souls who live in Guatemala City.”  If the latter is the reaction of a student, the thousands of dollars spent to send students to the trash dumps of Central America was an utter waste.  So why do we bother sending students as missionaries to provide small help to people with such need?

Because as Catholics, as human beings, we have the deepest obligation to care for the poor, to be good Samaritans.  But not just the poor some 3,000 miles away.  For most, a missionary trip to Guatemala happens once in a lifetime, yet we are reminded in the opening lines of Gaudiam et Spes, “The joys and the hopes, the griefs and the anxieties of the men of this age, especially those who are poor or in any way afflicted, these are the joys and hopes, the griefs and anxieties of the followers of Christ.”  Like the Good Samaritan who stopped on the side of the road to care for the man who fell victim to robbers on his way from Jerusalem to Jericho, we are called by Christ to care for those in need. We go to see the hunger and the poverty of the garbage dump communities to alleviate the suffering of people around the world, but we also go to raise our own awareness of the effects of poverty.  Of material poverty in our own cities, yes, but more importantly to become aware of the invisible poverty all around us.  We forget that like the Good Samaritan, we too meet people half dead every day in our ordinary lives.  We travel to Guatemala to open our eyes to poverty - in all its forms.

 Mother Teresa so famously wrote, “The greatest disease in the West today is not TB or leprosy; it is being unwanted, unloved, and uncared for. We can cure physical diseases with medicine, but the only cure for loneliness, despair, and hopelessness is love. There are many in the world who are dying for a piece of bread but there are many more dying for a little love. The poverty in the West is a different kind of poverty -- it is not only a poverty of loneliness but also of spirituality. There's a hunger for love, as there is a hunger for God.”  

So we travel to Guatemala to ready ourselves to serve the poorest among us - the sad, the lonely, the heartbroken, those without faith.  We ready ourselves to see misfortune, to slow down enough to notice the poverty in our school, our workplace, our church, our home.  We learn to avoid hurrying by from parking lot to office, from cubicle to cubicle, from classroom desk to desk, from room to room in our very home.  And then like the Good Samaritan, we learn to be unafraid to get close and to care for the immediate need of those closest to us: unafraid to smile, to ask questions, to offer prayers, to let go of petty preferences, to laugh and cry, to speak the unpopular truth, to bring the fallen away to formation and the Sacraments, to bring Love, to bring God.

As I reflect on the wretched poverty of Guatemala, I think of the words of Blessed Mother Teresa, “The hunger for love is much more difficult to remove than the hunger for bread,” and I remember that Guatemala is not enough, but it is a first step.  In the Body of Christ, we are all connected.   In the voice of Jesus, St. John Chrysostom wrote, “I am not saying to you: solve all my problems for me, give me everything you have, even though I am poor for love of you.  I only ask for some bread and clothes, some relief for my hunger [...] My love is so great that I want you to feed me.”  What a great mystery that Jesus would choose to use us to care for the needs of His body and that in caring for the members of his body, the object of our charity is ultimately Jesus himself.   

No Novocain: The Crumbling of America's Abortion Empire

State Senator Wendy Davis stood for over 12 hours before the Texas Legislature this month, a final attempt to hold back the pro-life tidal wave. Her dramatic filibuster temporarily stopped a Republican bill that would restrict abortion in Texas, but her efforts, and those of her raucous supporters, demonstrate the hopeless nature of their fight. To oppose a bill that would require abortion facilities to be clean is a desperate measure. President Obama tweeted, “Something special is happening in Austin tonight.” Yes, Mr. President, something special is happening. The logic of abortion has failed and our nation will soon be one that protects all life.

In America, abortion law is a tangled web of legislative and judicial decisions. Choruses of “well, I’m personally opposed, but…” show increasing discomfort with abortion and over half a million young people flock to the capital every January for the march for life. The fetal pain bill and three high-profile fetal murders that came to light this spring highlight untenable inconsistency in our laws.

Last week, the House of Representatives passed the Pain-Capable Fetal Protection Act, a measure that would restrict abortion once the fetus is able to feel pain. Overwhelming medical evidence has found that by 8 weeks, a fetus responds to touch. By 20 weeks, an unborn baby recoils from pain and releases a stress hormone like our bodies do when we get cut, bruised, or burned. Carol Everett, a former owner of an abortion clinic, appeared before the House State Affairs Committee in Texas.  She testified, “I was in the abortion business for six years, and I watched babies under sonography pull away from the instruments when they were used on them…babies do have nerve endings; they do feel pain.”

So why does pain matter? Why do abortion advocates so quickly change the subject to talk of a woman’s privacy? Pain makes us uneasy, and for good reason. If babies feel pain when their lives end (the procedures are more gruesome than one might think) and if it is our duty as a nation to be as accepting, as compassionate, as humane as possible, then ignoring the pain of unborn babies contradicts these ideals. Their silence does not mitigate their physical agony.

The trade-off between violating an unborn child’s life and a woman’s privacy rests on a single question: is the fetus a person who deserves protection?

If so, the government cannot deny unborn babies equal protection under the law. If women and unborn children are both persons, the latter cannot be killed in order to alleviate a woman’s distress. If fetuses are merely masses of tissue, they should be lawfully treated as part of the woman’s body, something she can do with as she chooses. Three recent fetal-murder cases provide the country's most recent consensus.

In Florida, John Andrew Welden tricked his girlfriend into taking abortion pills. Although he was the father of the child, he disagreed with his girlfriend’s decision to keep the baby and took action to end the pregnancy. The fetus was only six weeks old, a stage of pregnancy at which abortion is legal. Welden is charged with first-degree murder.

In Cleveland, three women and a young girl were freed from Ariel Castro’s house after a decade of horrific captivity. One woman testified that he raped her and, after discovering she was pregnant, starved and punched her in the stomach until she miscarried the baby. In addition to numerous accounts of kidnapping and rape, he is charged with murder for the unborn child’s death.

The recent high-profile trial of Kermit Gosnell publicized, to the near-universal horror of Americans, his deplorable abortion practices. The image of a doctor snipping the spinal cords of fully developed babies who survived abortions has made Americans think twice about what abortion really entails. Surely, those women felt they had no other choice, but the deaths of their newly born children are a grave injustice.

In 2003, Congress passed the Unborn Victims of Violence Act:

Whoever engages in conduct that violates any of the provisions of law…and thereby causes the death of, or bodily injury to, a child, who is in utero at the time the conduct takes place, is guilty of a separate offense under this section…the punishment for that separate offense is the same as the punishment provided under Federal law for that conduct had that injury or death occurred to the unborn child's mother.

This is profound. It marks a movement toward protection of unborn children and growing discomfort with inconsistency in the laws. But why should elected officials care at all? Shouldn’t they allow individuals to debate this issue in order to focus on more important issues in politics?

I am not so naïve as to think the Democratic Senate will pass the Pain-Capable Fetal Protection Act in the near future, but pro-life politicians should not give up. If we are blind to the vulnerable members of society – babies who writhe in the burning fluid of a saline abortion, pregnant women who fear the future, men who regret lost fatherhood – then we have failed. If the honorable politicians of the United States of America abandon abortion legislation for the sake of “pressing” issues, to whom should the good people of this earth turn when those with power have looked away? If the government – the institution designed to protect the lives of its people – deserts the most vulnerable, it would be a moment of the highest shame in the history of humanity.

Pregnant women should have choices – just like any other American – but they should not have the choice to kill a unique human being who can yawn, smile, itch his nose, and feel pain for which he is given neither an epidural nor Novocain. These women do need support and options – options that protect the emotional, psychological, and physical dignity of the mother and the child. Politicians like Senator Davis, who fight against requiring cleanliness in abortion clinics, have shown their true colors and their disregard for the lives of pregnant women, expectant fathers, and unborn children. The nation of death is fading away. America is changing.

A Pro-Woman Response to Plan B

Removing age restrictions on emergency contraceptives resembles a noble call for freedom of opportunity and equality, but it instead portrays a lack of familial support and a misunderstanding of femininity in today’s society.

U.S. District Court Judge Edward Korman approved the Obama administration’s concession that makes Plan B One Step, an emergency contraceptive, available to all women regardless of age. The Obama administration had originally appealed an April 5th ruling by Judge Korman that made Plan B One Step available over-the-counter, but instead decided to submit a plan for compliance and dropped the appeal. Based on the concern that most young girls would be embarrassed and scared to approach a parent or adult after having sex, the federal government has ruled that girls should be able to take control of their own bodies to prevent an unwanted pregnancy without parental permission or a doctor’s prescription.

At first glance, this seems to be a triumph for female equality. It is true that boys and men of all ages can buy condoms – so shouldn’t girls and women be able to buy contraceptives if they are to be treated equally? Theoretically, yes, but condoms and hormonal contraceptives are inherently different. According to Plan B’s website, the pill works by “preventing ovulation, possibly preventing fertilization by altering tubal transport of sperm and/or egg, [and by] altering the endometrium, which may inhibit implantation, stop ovulation or prevent implantation of the embryo.” If a girl is sexually active at the onset of puberty, she does not suddenly become an adult. She is still a young woman who needs the support and care of a parent, counselor, or relative. If she thinks she is pregnant, a girl under 17 should consult a trusted adult – someone other than the stranger behind the pharmacy counter – before taking a powerful drug. Although approaching an adult with such a problem would certainly be difficult and embarrassing, the adult would inform her of the medical attention she needs after becoming sexually active. A young girl who can buy emergency contraceptives without consulting an adult is not likely to be seeking proper medical care or receiving information regarding healthy relationships.

Exposing 12-year-old girls to such a powerful medication without parental supervision, gynecological medical attention, or a doctor’s prescription is irresponsible. Requiring some counseling or parental permission before buying emergency contraception would also encourage young girls to seek assistance after being raped or assaulted. Instead of remaining alone out of fear and embarrassment, they must be given proper medical and psychological care.

The age limit on emergency contraceptives is certainly a burden on young girls, but the government has a precedent of restricting actions based on age or developmental maturity.

Alcohol consumption, school attendance, driving, and marriage are actions reserved for citizens of a certain age, so limiting birth control for women under 17 would be consistent within our laws.The fact that young girls are vulnerable and still dependent on adult care is not a moral judgment on contraception or premarital sex. Unwanted pregnancy has life-changing consequences, but the weight of that decision should not rest solely on the shoulders of a student in middle or high school. Regardless of her course of action regarding pregnancy, a sexually active 12 year old, just like any other girl, needs the support and guidance of a trusted adult until she is emotionally and physically mature. That is the pro-woman action.

A 12-year-old is still under the supervision of a parent or guardian and is not as physically, socially, or emotionally mature as a 17 year old woman. It is a natural phenomenon that females carry the burden of pregnancy after sex, but instead of isolating them with a “just take care of it” attitude, they should be helped when most in need. If a parental figure is not present, the emergency contraceptive allows that parent, role model, or guardian to remain absent at a very important time of a girl’s life. Allowing girls to buy Plan B One Step is one large step in the wrong direction for those interested in protecting young women.