Nuala O’Loan‘The sacredness of each new life is fundamental to my understanding of the world which God made’, writes Nuala O’Loan
It can be hard to think what must have been in Mary and Joseph’s mind as they made the journey from home to Bethlehem, knowing that Mary’s baby was due any day. It must have been such a worry.
Then, when they got to Bethlehem, there was no accommodation to be had, and they ended up taking refuge in a stable, where the baby was born. I think men must have written the Gospels because nobody thought to tell us whether there were any other women with her.
I suspect there must have been and that those who loved this brave young girl would not have left her to travel alone.
But the difficulties did not end there. Just a short time after the baby was born, they received the news that King Herod was going to kill all the baby boys, and they had to flee to Egypt for safety for their little child. How scaring that must have been. Much like the plight of refugees across the world, running with whatever they can carry to strange lands.
There is indeed much food for thought in the Christmas story. Mary’s little boy child was at risk from the moment of his birth. Nothing was easy for his young parents and they struggled to provide a safe home where the little boy could grow up, much-loved and cherished.
History
Abortion is not a new concept. Men and women have killed unborn children throughout history, because they were not wanted. Yet Mary and Joseph welcomed and honoured the child who came, so unexpectedly, into their lives.
Those early days of pregnancy are a precious time. Yes, they may well involve sickness and discomfort, but they also bring with them the knowledge that new life is growing within the mother’s womb.
I remember so clearly the joy of those early months and how I came to love each of my children before they moved. As the weeks went on, the time came in each pregnancy when I felt the first fluttering of life. I remember it so well: remember how I wondered was that really it? Did my little baby really move? The little flutters became stronger, turning into clearly identifiable arms and feet poking from inside my womb. The babies seemed to like music too, and seemed conscious of voices.
But the brutal reality is that not all babies are wanted in the same way and some babies are rejected, even before birth. Abortion is lawful now in so many countries, though not, at the present moment in Northern Ireland, apart from very special circumstances. However those who advocate ‘a woman’s right to choose’ are unceasing in their calls for the introduction of abortion there. This I oppose absolutely.
The sacredness of each new life is fundamental to my understanding of the world which God made. Our duty to protect life at all stages is part of our common humanity. We all know that a new-born child is no more able to protect itself than an unborn child.
Babies are totally reliant on those who feed, cleanse, nurture and love them. The womb is one place where a child should be totally safe, and yet in so many countries that is not the case. Society is even adopting two forms of language to describe unborn children.
Pregnant mothers wear little badges on public transport saying ‘Baby on Board’ so that fellow travellers will know that they need special care.
When mothers go to antenatal clinics the nurses speak gently of “your baby” and parents marvel at the little one who can be seen moving on the scan.
But when the baby is not wanted, it becomes a ‘foetus’, and abortion is, they say, the compassionate response to the women whose needs must be given priority. The unborn child is a problem. Abortion is a convenient solution to the problem.
The battle to save the lives of millions of children across the globe is still a battle which is worth fighting. We may meet it at unexpected times.
I was recently honoured to be asked to join the British Medical Association’s Medical Ethics Committee. I thought that I might be able to make a contribution to the debates about end-of-life care, the care of the vulnerable etc. But at the very first meeting which I was to attend, I saw that on the agenda was a consultation document from Northern Ireland about the introduction of abortion on grounds of rape and foetal abnormality.
Reading the papers, I learned that the BMA already has a policy that Britain’s 1967 Abortion Act should be extended to Northern Ireland. Thinking about it I came to the conclusion that I could not in conscience participate in a meeting where the accepted starting point was that the Abortion Act should be extended to Northern Ireland in its entirety. I wondered should I go to the meeting and fight for a negative response to the Northern Ireland consultation.
Resigned
I decided in the end that I could not take any part in the meeting, so I resigned from the committee. The problem is that, by so doing, I accepted that I could play no part in the BMA’s development of medical ethics across the huge range of medical activity involving the care of people at all the vulnerable moments of their lives right to the very end. It was a difficult decision. Yet life is about difficult decisions.
Mary and Joseph made a profoundly difficult decision when they took their new-born baby away, fleeing from King Herod, embarking on that dangerous, lonely journey.
As we contemplate the wonder of Christmas let us remember, not just the Christ-child, but all those little children who are denied the life for which they were made by the divine Creator, because there is truly no room for them in this wonderful, challenging world of ours.