"Let's Play Planned Parenthood!" by Stephanie Gray

Image Source: http://www.unmaskingchoice.ca/endthekilling/postcards

When I was little, I routinely said to my sister and friends, “Let’s play house!” or “Let’s play doctor!”  Indeed, it is common for young children to enjoy replicating in their imaginary world of play land what they see adults do. 

With that in mind, let’s imagine that two siblings are playing in their living room.  “Let’s play Planned Parenthood!” one little girl cries to her sister.  “Okay!” she responds.  So they gather their Barbies and their baby dolls and ask Mom to lend them some scissors.  Mom, figuring they’re doing arts and crafts, says, “Sure!”

The little girls then proceed to cut off Barbie’s limbs and cut open their dolls’ heads.  Now imagine the Mom walks in on this display and understandably shrieks, “WHAT ARE YOU GIRLS DOING?!?!?!”  They innocently reply, “We’re playing Planned Parenthood! We’re harvesting tissue!”  Something tells me that their mom would not celebrate their budding sense of “reproductive justice,” but would instead make an emergency call to a child psychiatrist about how to handle children who dismember dolls.

If we wouldn’t want children to play such a game in their imaginary world, why would we want adults to act in such a way in our reality world?  And that’s the very point the Canadian Centre for Bio-Ethical Reform powerfully makes with this postcard of theirs (front and back).

Our very different intuitive reactions to a child’s declaration, “Let’s play house!” versus “Let’s play Planned Parenthood!” reveals there is something gravely disordered with the latter.

When I Went to Auschwitz, by Stephanie Gray

Nine years ago I travelled to Poland; while there, I visited Auschwitz.  That came to mind today, August 14, because this day marks the day that a saint, Father Maximillian Kolbe, was murdered by the Nazis.  I went to the very cell where that atrocity occurred, and this was my reflection to family and friends back home:

Our next morning was extremely sobering as we went to Auschwitz I and Auschwitz II/Birkenau concentration camps.  I'm finding it difficult to find the words to describe the experience of walking around a place built for such evil.  It was gut-wrenching.

We were shown how the SS viewed everything about the Jews and other prisoners as a commodity and refused to let anything go to waste. They used clothes for soldiers and other Germans; they used hair for socks, felt stockings, and yarn; they used even human ashes from the ovens for fertilizer.  Human life was viewed as disposable, an object to be used or discarded.

Two images stand out in my mind in particular: 1) a newborn baby's white knitted sweater amidst rows of clothes and 2) piles of medical aids (crutches, leg braces, etc).  Children?!  Sick people?!  It is impossible to understand how they could harm anyone, but one is especially bewildered at how they could attack the most weak and vulnerable.

At the entry to one of the buildings, the museum placed this quote by George Santayana, "The one who does not remember history is bound to live through it again."

And this is how, regrettably, the tragedy of the Holocaust lives on.  While society may remember the specific event of the Holocaust, it seems to forget the philosophy behind it.  When we fail to recognize the inherent dignity of human life, when we persist in considering the sick and the young (pre-born) as a burden, an inconvenience, or as having a low quality of life (the Nazis believed in “lives unworthy of life”) then our society maintains the very mentality that drove the SS to such destruction.

LIGHT AMIDST DARKNESS

This is why a Polish man who lived during the time of the Holocaust is such an inspiration to me: St. Maximillian Kolbe.  He was God's gift to a dark world, bringing an example and a message of hope for “such as a time as this.”

One of the most emotional moments at Auschwitz I was at Building 11 (execution block), cell 18, the cement basement cell where Father Kolbe was killed, a priest who freely offered to take the place of a fellow prisoner who had been sentenced to death.  For two weeks Kolbe sat cold and naked without food or water.  He helped calm those within the cell and surrounding ones by singing and praying.  The museum made a memorial to Kolbe in that cell and tells his story by saying the following: “Within concentration camps there were some resistance movements that were organized.  We tell Kolbe's story because he showed the greatest resistance to the Nazis: by staying human.”

In preparation for that trip, I had read a book about St. Kolbe called A Man for Others, by Patricia Treece.  In it is this powerful quote from Saint Kolbe, worth remembering on this day in particular:

“When grace fires in our hearts, it stirs up in them a true thirst for suffering...to show...to what extent we love Our Heavenly Father..for it is only through suffering that we learn how to love...In suffering and persecution [we]...reach a high degree of sanctity and, at the same time...bring our persecutors to God.”

Butterfly Children, by Stephanie Gray

     If you want to figure out if something is truly necessary in life, ask yourself, “Without it, would I die?”  In light of that perspective, one can certainly conclude that food is a necessity for survival.  It would therefore make sense that consuming food would bring nourishment that makes us feel good, not bad.  Consider, though, the case of Jonathan Pitre, a 14-year-old boy growing up in Ontario.  While food does nourish his body, it comes with a painful cost: eating causes blisters inside his throat. 

     Jonathan has a rare and excruciatingly painful genetic condition called epidermolysis bullosa (EB).  It is so debilitating that friction on his skin causes blisters on his body too.  In a moving documentary that can be seen here, one is exposed to the horrifying effects this condition has on Jonathan’s body: bandages that daily wrap around his fragile, skeletal frame, are removed to reveal his scaly, blistered, and cracking red skin.

     People like Jonathan are described as “Butterfly Children.”  When asked to explain why that is, Jonathan says, “They call us butterfly children because our skin is as fragile as a butterfly’s wings.  As much as a butterfly is pretty and gentle, we have the heart of warriors.  We very much are stronger than we appear.”

     A warrior Jonathan most certainly is.  Indeed, this small-in-stature teenager who relies heavily on others (such as his fiercely devoted mother) to daily care for him, has a strength to endure unimaginable pain.  He has a strength to continue moving forward in life, showing that hope is possible amidst suffering.

     How?  In reflecting on the documentary, three answers come to mind as highlighted in Jonathan’s life:

1.      The necessity of community.

2.      The importance of a shared experience.

3.      The power of the human will.

     When asked where his strength comes from, Jonathan reflects, “[My] strength comes from people around me, ‘cause they do believe in me, that I can get through it.”  Indeed, there is something about the encouragement and “cheerleading” of another that can drive us forward.  Consider why business people hire personal coaches, or why gyms offer personal trainers— it's because we humans thrive on relationship with others. We need their encouragement. We weren't meant to be alone.

     Indeed, when Jonathan had the opportunity to watch an Ottawa Senator’s game, and asked if he would be watching one player in particular, he responded, “A team isn’t just made of one player, it’s all of them, so I’ll be watching the whole team.”

     Jonathan not only experienced the necessity of community, but also the importance of a shared experience.  A life-changing moment for him was in 2012 when he attended an EB conference.  Why?  Because previously he had met no one with his condition.  Suddenly, a whole new world was opened up to him, a world of being “understood” in a deep and profound way.  He said, “I knew that I wasn’t alone anymore.”

     What is striking, is the effect meeting others like him had on him—it expanded his empathy and his desire to look outward.  He said, “I knew since then that I was going to become an ambassador.  I want to start helping other people with EB.”  This conviction of his brings to life the words of Holocaust-survivor Viktor Frankl who wrote, “The more one forgets himself—by giving himself to a cause to serve or another person to love—the more human he is and the more he actualizes himself.”

     Finally, Jonathan shows us the power of the human will.  There are others like him, with profound suffering, who don’t have the positive outlook on life that he has.  So while many can share the same experience—suffering—not all share the same response.  The response is what we individually choose.  And we can choose optimism, persistence, and drive, just like Jonathan has.  This reflects the power of the human will, which Frankl also speaks about:

     “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”

Making All Things New, by Stephanie Gray

Photo Attribution: Texas Radio & The Big Beast

There are some emotional pains that are so excruciating, so deep, and so overwhelming that words are inadequate to describe the agony.  In such experiences, the deepest and most guttural of sobs seem to provide no relief.

That kind of suffering came to mind when I met a beautiful college student at my recent talk at an American university this past week.  She approached me afterwards to thank me for giving her something she didn’t have previously: a way to articulate the reasons behind the pro-life position in order to make “The Case for Life” (the title for my talk in which I equipped the audience to persuasively defend the right to life of pre-born children).  After she thanked me, she made a significant disclosure:

“I had a baby last December.”

She then told me her story: her parents wanted her to have an abortion.  She didn’t know back then how to make the case for life to convince them it was wrong to meet their wishes, but she nonetheless knew it in her heart.  And so, even if she couldn’t articulate it with her tongue, she would not allow abortion to be the answer.

An unplanned pregnancy. 

An unmarried student. 

A betrayal by one’s own parents who wanted their grandchild dismembered. 

Agony. 

Utter agony.

As she walked through that trial, a parallel suffering was being lived by two others: there was a married couple who lost not one, not two, but three children to sudden deaths.  Children should expect to one day bury their parents, but parents should never have to bury their children.  This couple had to bury three.  Torture.

But these parallel journeys would intersect.  Two crises would meet and mysteriously produce beauty: “I gave my baby up for adoption,” the student told me, “to a couple I knew for four years who had had three children and all of them died.”

She took out her phone and showed me a most precious picture of her baby girl. What joy for her to know that she played a role in bringing the gift of life, and its fruits of joy, to a couple who had known such deep sadness.  What a joy for the adoptive parents to know that they played a role in receiving the gift of life and affirming the courageous and loving choice of this young woman.  What a joy for both parties to know that when faced with the neediness of a little child, their response was a spirit of responsibility, generosity, and love.

Amidst the crisis pregnancy, the stirring in this student’s heart to consider adoption was as though God was whispering what He said in Revelation 21:5 “Behold I make all things new.”

Amidst the great loss of their children’s deaths, the adoptive couple’s reception of new life was as though God was breathing into them, “Behold, I make all things new.”

And 24 hours after that baby girl’s birth, her grandfather who had previously wished her aborted, called his daughter to apologize, and to thank her for giving life to his grandchild that he had held the day before—in that moment of mercy, it was as though the written word of God came to life yet again:

“Behold, I make all things new.”

Lessons from a Fire, by Stephanie Gray

Photo by MICHAEL MANIEZZO

One year ago, shortly after 7am, on a morning I had planned to sleep in, I was awoken by a fire.  Yelling startled me awake and when I looked out my bedroom window where I used to live in Brampton, Ontario, I saw that my breathtakingly beautiful place of worship, an all-wood onion-domed Ukrainian Catholic Church, was surrounded by fire trucks.  Initially, I just saw smoke.  But it quickly turned to flames.  And it didn’t take long until the whole building was engulfed by a fiery inferno.

Six days before, I had experienced deep serenity as I stepped onto my patio to watch the setting sun light up the evening sky, illuminating the church’s dramatic silhouette.  It was as though a piece of a Ukrainian village had fallen from the sky and landed in a field in Brampton, bringing quiet and peace to the most populated part of Canada, the Greater Toronto Area.  People of all faiths and backgrounds regularly drove up to take in the awe and wonder of St. Elias the Prophet’s magnificent architecture.  When people would walk in, they would be hushed by the presence of the sacred.  The smell of incense and beeswax candles (the only form of lighting for the whole sanctuary, excepting sun beams shining through windows) were sweet to the senses.  The floor to dome iconography that took 10 years to complete was breathtaking to behold.  St. Elias was an experience of Heaven on earth.  In every way, it drew the human experience to heights that went beyond this world.

But less than one week later, I sat stunned and in shock as I watched St. Elias burn—literally—to the ground.  I can’t quite get an image out of my head, of my dear shepherd, Fr. Roman Galadza, sitting on the frozen ground between the rectory and the church, his black cassock blowing in the bitter wind, head in hands, as he watched what he had labored to build for over 25 years disappear before his eyes.  Agonizing.

I have so many memories from that day—hearing gut wrenching sobs, hundreds of people flocking to grieve, religious leaders of all kinds coming to express condolences, but what stands out most is two-fold, and both are Fr. Roman’s example.  Amidst this loss, Father knew what was most important—who the church was built for, not the building itself.  And so, with deep concern for the Body of Christ, he asked the firemen if they would attempt to rescue Our Lord.  Donning their oxygen masks, several brave men entered the inferno and successfully collected the Body of Christ and His holy word—The Gospel Book.  A fireman told me later that when he saw his colleague walking from the church, hunched over, carrying something wrapped in a blanket, he panicked thinking, “A body! Oh my gosh! There was a child in there.”  No, there was not, but what—who—his colleague was carrying demanded a kind of reverence with which he so carefully cradled the Sacred, that which we would give to a precious child—and more.

Then there was what Father did only a couple hours after the fire.  As more and more people flocked to the parish house, Father quickly prepared a prayer service for us all—and it was a service of thanksgiving.  That is right: amidst anguish and loss, he immediately focused our perspective by leading us to give thanks.

In his booming voice he recited from Job 1:21, “The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away,” and we responded as Job once did: “Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

And a second time he boldly declared, “The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away!”

“Blessed be the name of the Lord!” we cried.

And a third time his voice thundered: “The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away!”

We shouted, “Blessed be the name of the Lord!”

This example has stayed with me ever since, and has been a source of consolation in trying times.  It is easy to give praise when life is good—but can we give praise when life gets difficult?  Can we maintain the perspective that no matter what we experience, God is good?  Can we continually give God the praise He is due?

At St. Elias on April 5, 2014, it was so tempting to only lament what we had lost, but the leadership of Fr. Roman challenged us to give thanks for what we had received—to remember the 25 beautiful years the church building had been a sanctuary for prayer, praise, and healing. 

Life delivers both joys and sorrows, and we cannot always control these.  But what we can control is our response—and look for opportunities to express gratitude and praise amidst the most trying of times.  Moreover, while objects may cease to exist, subjects do not.  How much more tragic than the destruction of a beautiful building is the destruction of a beautiful soul?  Protecting and nourishing the temple of the Holy Spirit should be our primary aim.

Indeed, each Sunday at St. Elias, and now in a school gym until the new church is built, the congregation lifts its voices and reverently sings,

“Let us who mystically represent the Cherubim, and sing the Thrice-holy Hymn to the life-giving Trinity, now lay aside all cares of life, that we may receive the King of all, escorted invisibly by ranks of angels. Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.”

As we continue in this Easter season, let us remember that material possessions or not, we can receive the King of all.  So let us lay aside all cares of life.

Address at Westmont College Chapel by Stephanie Gray, March 16, 2015 in Santa Barbara

40 Days by Stephanie Gray

We are now at the half-way point of Lent.  It is also the half-way point of an international movement: the 40 Days for Life Campaign which consists of three elements: 1) prayer and fasting, 2) constant vigil, and 3) community outreach in response to the killing of the youngest of our kind through abortion.  On Sunday in Vancouver we marked the middle of this campaign with a rally outside Vancouver’s largest abortion clinic.

 At that gathering I gave a speech about 4 principles we need to take to heart as we follow the call to be salt and light, and those lessons are extracted from Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s words in his Letter from Birmingham Jail:

“There was a time when the church was very powerful -- in the time when the early Christians rejoiced at being deemed worthy to suffer for what they believed. In those days the church was not merely a thermometer that recorded the ideas and principles of popular opinion; it was a thermostat that transformed the mores of society. Whenever the early Christians entered a town, the people in power became disturbed and immediately sought to convict the Christians for being ‘disturbers of the peace’ and ‘outside agitators.’ But the Christians pressed on, in the conviction that they were ‘a colony of heaven,’ called to obey Gad rather than man. Small in number, they were big in commitment. They were too God-intoxicated to be ‘astronomically intimidated.’ By their effort and example they brought an end to such ancient evils as infanticide and gladiatorial contests.”

Just as the early Church, through God’s grace, brought an end to historical evils, we too can help bring an end to present-day evils by seeking Dr. King’s advice to

1)      Be thermostats,

2)      Enter a town,

3)      Press on, and

4)      Obey God

If you consider a thermostat in contrast to a thermometer, the latter merely records the temperature—it tells us something, whereas the former actually adjusts the temperature.  A thermostat is the controller which turns heat or cool air on or off to ensure an environment is at the proper temperature.  Likewise, we must step back and say what is the ideal “temperature” for our culture—how ought things be?  And when we identify what should be the way (i.e., respect all human life) then we must work to bring our culture up to that level. 

One 40 Days for Life volunteer in Wisconsin did just that.  Standing alone on a cold day, praying outside an abortion clinic, he saw a couple whose hearts were cold as they walked into that clinic to kill their child.  But the volunteer adjusted the temperature—he conveyed warmth by lovingly looking at them and saying, “God bless you two.  No, wait—God bless all three of you!”  That’s all it took—a witness, a kind gesture, a correction of words for greater accuracy and the couple was changed.  They left the clinic and months later a baby boy was born.

Not only must we be thermostats, we must “enter a town”—in other words, in order to change the culture we must engage the culture.  The early Christians reached many because they took their message directly to the people.  We all ought to do an inventory of who we know, or who has been placed in our path, and how we can reach out to them. 

Not only should we create opportunities to engage those we know, but we should seize opportunities that arise.  Unfortunately I didn’t do that a couple days ago, and hope others can learn from my mistake: I was at my cousin’s house alone when the doorbell rang.  A Liberal party candidate was canvassing the neighborhood and I simply said, “The homeowners aren’t here” so she gave me a flyer for them and that was it.  As I took the flyer to the kitchen I realized I had just missed an important opportunity—knowing that that candidate’s leader Justin Trudeau’s abortion-supporting views are so extreme he said he will force MPs in his caucus to vote against any legislation restricting abortion, I should have engaged the candidate in a discussion about that.

Thankfully pro-life students at UBC did seize a similar opportunity just last week when they decided to throw together a protest in response to Justin Trudeau speaking on their campus.  When I joined them at this demonstration, I spoke with a student who initially thought abortion was okay, but when he looked at an image of an abortion victim and when I took him through basic pro-life reasoning about human rights, he admitted that that made sense and thanked me.  That exchange wouldn’t have happened if we hadn’t engaged the culture—so let’s re-capture the spirit of the early church and do just that.

Of course, we also need to press on—and that can be difficult when an injustice seems never-ending and when we don’t always see the results.  Several years ago a friend of mine told me that even though she was raised in a pro-life home and was taught and believed that abortion was wrong, when she got pregnant in her twenties everything changed—she told her doctor she wanted an abortion and was given a number to a clinic where she was going to get it done.  But one day when she was driving to work she noticed a mini-van in front of her with a bumper sticker which displayed a quote by Mother Teresa: “It is a poverty to decide a child must die so that you may live as you wish.”  Her heart softened, she rejected abortion, and several months later gave birth to a baby boy. 

The people in the blue mini-van have no idea that their pro-life proclamation saved a baby—but it did.  That is proof that we may never see the fruits but our job is to press on, and trust that God will use our efforts to bring about great good.

Finally, in all things we need to obey God, remembering that all His commands are summed into one: Love.  We are called to love God and love neighbor, and love is wanting the other’s good.  That’s what drives pro-lifers to stand and pray and reach out and circulate the pro-life message—it is willing the good of the pre-born as well as the born.  Of course, it is love which drove Jesus to the cross.  And so, at this mid-way point of this 40-day journey, let us remember to take up our cross and follow Christ, just as the early church martyrs did.

End of Life Decision-Making: The Details, by Stephanie Gray

A couple years ago, a friend of mine, who is a young husband and father, was diagnosed with a brain tumor.  His wife contacted me for counsel on handling end-of-life decision-making should things move in that direction, and she wrote me the following:

 “We are in the midst of writing up our Power of Attorneys and part of that includes the following statement: ‘If the situation should arise in which there is no reasonable expectation of my recovery from extreme physical or mental disability, I direct that I be allowed to die and not be kept alive by cardiopulmonary resuscitation, mechanical respiration, artificial nutrition, or other artificial means.’

I am just wondering what your thoughts are on the ethics of withholding feeding tube in an 'end of life' situation.  Do you consider it an artificial means of preserving life the same as keeping someone on a ventilator?  I somehow feel it is quite different and shouldn't lumped into one statement.  Is there discussion around this topic?”

In light of Canada’s recent Supreme Court Decision, I thought it would be beneficial to publish my response to her as a resource for others who may find themselves in similar situations.  So here it is:

My heart goes out to you having to think of this right now. I do have some thoughts on end of life issues and interventions and wording guidelines that I'd be more than happy to share with you.  On matters of end of life, the morality of what to do is often difficult to wade through because in order to determine the ethical we have to really understand the medical, and these days the medical can be quite complicated and varies according to each person’s unique condition and situation.  Knowing what to do can be determined, but it takes a bit more digging. 

I would therefore caution against any type of general statement like you have because I think it allows for too much interpretation and if you don’t have a pro-life physician, the doctor’s determination of “extreme” physical or mental disability could be problematic.   This article here further explains why one should be cautious about general statements.

I should note that that link and others below all go to documents written by Catholics.  Because that is my background and I am very familiar with the National Catholic Bioethics Center (from which almost all my links are drawn) I nonetheless provide them to you, knowing your different background, because I’ve never found anything more extensive and consistent with natural law principles than these.  It’s not that other good documents aren’t out there, but it’s that these are what I know and I think very logical and grounded in principles that, at their core, cross denominational boundaries.  Let me know if that's okay or not.

Anyhoos, when I took my certification in health care ethics, one of the things we were taught is to distinguish things which are proportionate versus those which are disproportionate (instead of things like concern for general disability, as that can lead people to make decisions based on “quality of life” which is very subjective).  I’ve attached the reading for it I was given, but in brief, the main things to focus on would be whether a particular intervention hasa hope of benefit or not and would it be excessively burdensome or not.  This article draws on that principle when it comes to DNRs (“Do Not Recuscitate”) and I think it says it better than I could so if you don’t mind I’ll just point you to it.

Regarding nutrition and hydration, I would classify that as care, rather than treatment, even when requiring some artificial assistance to get the process going, as food and water are basic necessities for our survival.  Therefore, rather than a general statement to withhold these, I think that has to be determined from the perspective of whether administering them would be excessively burdensome (again, back to that proportionate/disproportionate standard).  For example, when someone is in their dying stages, administering food and water could possibly cause more pain and little to no benefit, so it could ethically be withheld, not to speed the dying process, but to avoid causing pain to someone who is already in the dying process.  But that has to be determined on a case-by-case basis to know what the administration, in a specific scenario, would actually do.  This document provides some helpful insights on nutrition and hydration, although a good chunk of it relates more to those in a “vegetative” state.

There’s also helpful information related to that topic, along with respiration, which not only distinguishes artificial hydration and nutrition from ventilators, but also makes the point that determining whether one should maintain the use of a ventilator or not should still be run through the “proportionate versus disproportionate” test.  You can read about this here and here. 

Another perspective to bear in mind is that when someone dies, to determine the ethics of our commissions or omissions surrounding their death, we should ask, “If I act or do not act, and the person dies, what will be their cause of death?”  Will it be their underlying disease/condition, or will it be our act or omission?  If it’s the latter, there’s a problem.  If it’s the former, that is tragically a part of life.

Admittedly, sometimes when we do one thing (e.g., administer pain medication), it can have two kinds of effects—a good effect (pain goes away) and a bad effect (the medication hastens death).  If the act is consistent with the Principle of Double Effect, it can be justified.

All this to say, I think the wisest choice in end-of-life issues is what is described at the end of the first article I linked to:

“There is a better choice available to Christians than a living will. We can choose a surrogate, a living person, who will make health care decisions in real time on our behalf if we are rendered unable to do so. The proposed surrogate (also called a "health care proxy") is someone who cares deeply about us, who loves us, and is reasonably able to make decisions in accord with our known wishes and with our best medical and spiritual interests in mind. Filling out a form to designate our health care proxy is something that each of us should do as a sensible way to prepare for difficult end-of-life situations that may arise. Preparing such a document can also prompt us to begin discussing these important topics more effectively with our families and loved ones.”

This way, the specific circumstances of each scenario that arises in the future will be dealt with, and ethically analyzed, in the present moment, rather than hypothesizing about the future.  In fact, the NCBC organization I draw my information from, has a 24-hour ethical consult line that anyone, not just Catholics, can call to get an ethical analysis based on specific medical situations that arise.

I hope this helps.  Again, please let me know if you’d like to discuss any of it, and please be assured of my continued prayers for you and your family.

Peace be with you, Stephanie

Note: My friend responded, “This is so very helpful.  Thank you so much.  I had not found as much clarity or peace in speaking to other people to this point.”  Most encouraging is that almost two years since our exchange, her husband has had two brain surgeries to remove the tumor and is doing very, very well!  Please keep them in your prayers.

Stephanie Gray's Presentation at Students for Life of America 2015

One Shade of Gray by Stephanie Gray

“Why?”  It’s a question toddlers teach us to ask over and over again.  I found myself asking that question as movie theatres prepare to roll out 50 Shades of Grey: Why have more than 100 million copies been sold?  Why have presumably 100 million women read this particular story?  Why is it so magnetic?  So I messaged a friend of mine, whose Facebook wall has been filled with a countdown for the film—was she willing to share her perspective? She said she’d call in 15 minutes.

What she told me was not what I was expecting.  She focused very little on the kind of sex in the story that is the focus of so many articles critiquing the tale.  Instead, she started off by telling me that the main character, Christian Grey, was horrifically abused as a child.  That his mother beat him, starved him, and did all kinds of other despicable things to him.  He was adopted at the age of 8, but by then untold abuse had been inflicted on this vulnerable child.

His victimization worsened.  When he was 15, his adopted mother’s friend convinced him to have sex with her, in what became an adult woman dominating and beating this teenage boy in multiple sexual encounters.

From a psychology perspective, it’s not surprising that as he became an adult, Christian pursued women who looked like his mother and then engaged in violent sex where he had control and enjoyed beating them—doing to them the violence he presumably wished he could have done to his mother when she hurt him so horrifically as a child.

And so the old adage is true: hurting people hurt people.  But if we want to help hurting people become healthy people, we don’t let them hurt others.  What if Christian’s mother was just acting out on him an abuse that had been done to her?  Would we think that okay?  What if the adopted mother’s friend was just acting out on Christian something that had been done to her?  Would we think that acceptable?  Then why would our culture think it okay for Christian to act out on women the domination that had been inflicted on him?

Just because we can understand why people do what they do, it doesn’t mean we tolerate what they do.  Consider lawyer David Dow’s TED Talk: One of his clients, Will, was executed for committing murder.  Setting aside the death penalty debate, what is heartbreaking about Will’s story is that his life, from its beginnings, was fraught with horror: His father abandoned his mom when she was pregnant with Will.  His mom, who had paranoid schizophrenia, tried to kill Will when he was five.  He lived with his brother until that brother committed suicide.  He was bounced between relatives’ homes until he lived on his own—at the age of 9.  Knowing all this can make us feel empathy for Will.  But it doesn’t take away the wrongness of what Will did by committing murder.  

We don’t have control about whether we are victims.  But we do have control about whether we become victimizers.  Unfortunately Will was both victim and victimizer.  So was Christian Grey.  Neither man should be glorified in their role as victimizers just because they should be sympathized in their role as victims.

Yet the temptation is strong perhaps because, as my friend informed me, the story wrestles with topics so near and dear to women’s hearts: self-worth, acceptance, woundedness, and unconditional love.  My friend even noted, “Millionaire, good looking man who wants to be with me.”  It touches on the desire to be provided for, the desire to be accepted.  It touches even on a woman’s desire to nurture (my friend informed me that Ana loved Christian more when she learned of him being abused), but it’s vital this not be overlooked: Christian Grey needed a proper counselor and spiritual healing, not a human to use as a sex toy.  Until he had worked through his woundedness—which is possible—he was incapable of being in an interdependent, life-giving, loving, romantic relationship.  In his unhealed state, he was employing the manipulation and domination characteristic of people who hurt others—and that is not love; it is not a relationship to be admired or desired (As director of the National Center of Sexual Exploitation points out here).

So when 50 Shades of Grey arouses in women desires in the feminine heart, but gives a response that is the dysfunction of Christian and Ana’s relationship, it provides a counterfeit.  Some may think it is love, (just as someone with a counterfeit bill may think it is real) but ultimately their relationship doesn’t coincide with love’s true meaning, which St. Thomas Aquinas so beautifully defined as “to will the good of another.”  If we do not will the good of another, then we will use.  If we do not will the good of another, then we will abuse.  

If we do not will the good of another, and if we were made to will the good of another—if we were made to love and be loved—then we will experience the destructive consequences that flow from going against this nature (should we then be surprised that “According to research from Michigan State University, young women who read Fifty Shades of Grey are more likely than nonreaders to exhibit signs of eating disorders and have a verbally abusive partner. Beyond that, women who’ve read all three of the books in the series were more likely to binge drink and have multiple sexual partners—all of which are behaviors commonly exhibited by women in abusive relationships”)

In light of that, let’s consider, for a moment, what we would do if we had a $100 bill and was informed by a cashier it was a counterfeit.  Would we keep it?  Would we give it away to others?  Or would we throw it out?  If 50 Shades is a counterfeit of what real love is and we throw it away, what do we replace it with?  First, we find our identity in Christ, our Creator, knowing that He loved us so much He willed us into existence and He died for us.  He accepts us.  He loves us unconditionally.  He heals our wounds.  He desires our good.  Then, we follow in Christ’s footsteps and we live authentic love. 

What does that look like?  Dietrich von Hildebrand so beautifully declared, “In the case of truly being in love…I become more sensitive and more reverent.”  Consider beautiful, fragile, and valuable things in our world—how do we treat them?  How do we handle 100-year-old, million dollar pieces of art?  What do we do when the sky is suddenly and dramatically painted with brilliant reds, oranges, and yellows as the sun sets?  What happens when we are hiking and come upon a waterfall cascading down a mountain with wild flowers growing in the lush meadow?

In these moments do we seek to disturb?  To destroy?  To disfigure?  Or do we step back with caution and care, in order to marvel?  If we love these things, we will respect them.  If we love these things, we will preserve them.  If we love these things, we will pause with awe and silence and behold their wonder.  

If that is how we would respond to something in creation, how much more should we have reverence for creatures, for the human person who is more beautiful and more valuable than any created object?  The thought of Christian Grey desecrating the artwork or destroying the beautiful scene with his rough and dehumanizing behaviors is stomach-churning.  How much more, then, should we be pained that he do that to a woman—that he desecrate, defile, and despoil an individual who is unrepeatable, irreplaceable, and breathtakingly beautiful.

Consider for a moment what fairy tales we tell our children—they are stories of love, sacrifice, heroic virtue, of using power responsibly, and of focusing on the good of the other.  Sexual intimacy should be a manifestation of this kind of beautiful love, while 50 Shades is the exact opposite.

Consider more of Dietrich von Hildebrand’s words that we should aspire to in our relationships:

“The mark of being in love is the clearest antithesis to sex appeal, to mere sexual attraction.  Regarding the other only as sexually fascinating and experiencing an isolated sensual desire represents a phenomenon radically different from the true state of being in love. In this state, the beloved stands before us as something immeasurably precious, whose beauty awakens reverence in us…A man who is truly in love gazes upon his beloved with the awareness that ‘I am not worthy of her,’ although with his whole heart he hopes that his love may be requited.

“In the case of isolated sensual desire, where I find someone merely enticing, I am drawn into the periphery.  I even become less sensitive, less reverent.  In the true state of being in love, the beloved stands before me as a person in a unique way.  I take him fully seriously as a person.  In a mere sexual attraction, the partner is an object for my satisfaction.  In the case of truly being in love, the whole charm of the other sex is embodied in the one beloved person, whereas in sensual desire the other is just one good representation of the other sex among many…

“How much more noble and reverent, more aware, and consequently more lovable is a man made by love!  How much richer the cosmos becomes for him and how he is led even to a greater religious depth!  For one truly in love, the sun shines more brightly, nature becomes more beautiful, and his entire life is elevated to a higher plane.”

So, as we embrace this vision of authentic love, let us reject its counterfeit like 50 Shades.  As the movie comes out this weekend, let’s make a commitment to not only refuse to watch it, but to also boycott theaters that run it by not giving them business the whole time 50 Shades is out.  In fact, my boyfriend and I were going to go to a movie tonight, but because that same theater is also playing 50 Shades, we refuse to give the theater our business and will be explaining why to the manager.  It is important we send a clear message that this kind of harmful treatment of other humans is not to be glorified and celebrated and that, instead, the alternative—willing the other’s good—is the life-giving example to follow.