The Fall of Roe: One Year Later

I was at the Supreme Court a year ago. It taught me about faith.

The night after Roe v. Wade fell, I walked down the street in front of the Supreme Court to see the candlelight vigil. Hundreds of people swarmed the pavement, holding candles aloft in the night sky as they protested the Court’s decision in Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization that returned the abortion debate to the state level. Sitting on a curb, I asked the man next to me to tell his story. Born a Catholic, James left his church for an Episcopal church that was more liberal and had traveled all the way from San Francisco to the nation’s capital, right in time for the most controversial Supreme Court decision in our lifetimes. Watching the crowd of protestors against the Court, its six conservative justices, and both political parties deemed complicit in the fall of Roe, James articulated his outlook for the future of the country. “Generation Z is giving me so much hope,” he said, looking out at the packed streets illuminated by the candlelight. “It gives you faith in the country that everything’s not f*cked.” And I sat there and realized I’ve almost never disagreed with someone more.

The purpose of the opening story isn’t to convince you James is a good Christian, a heretic, or anything in between. In fact, he’s only part of a wider divide America’s experiencing right now. By all indicators, James believes his position on legal abortion is perfectly compatible with Christianity’s message of compassion, forgiveness, and mercy. Conversely, pro-life Christians maintain that their opposition to abortion is compatible with Christianity’s message of the value of life, our responsibility to protect God’s creation, and the Biblical mandate to defend those less fortunate. A year after the fall of Roe v. Wade, I’m left to think about where we go from here.

As you know if you’ve literally ever read my work, I’m a pro-life Christian. I’m unapologetic about my belief that life circumstances don’t determine the value of someone’s life, an innocent child least of all. But I’m also honest about the limits of that philosophy. Horrific cases like a 10-year-old rape victim in Ohio present serious moral quandaries—not because of confusion about whose life has value, but because both lives possess inherent value. I can’t pretend that I, and many other committed Christians, haven’t been spurred to renewed soul-searching because of such tragedies. I am similarly aware that Christians who support abortion deal with a similar, if not greater, number of moral quandaries. It brings to mind two obvious questions: how do Christians get to such different positions, and how do we move forward from here?

Part of the answer to the first question lies in the priority differences between conservatives and liberals. Ten years ago, social psychologist Jonathan Haidt released The Righteous Mind, his tome on the moral foundations of conservatives and liberals. Part of the problem, says Haidt, is that liberals value care and fairness more than conservatives, and conservatives value traditions more than their liberal counterparts, as represented by the bent of their respective talking points: “Liberals speak for the weak and oppressed. They want change and justice, even at the risk of chaos … Conservatives, on the other hand, speak for institutions and traditions. They want order, even at some cost, to those at the bottom.” But more telling than this is the difference in philosophical focus. “Conservatives tend to focus more on personal responsibility,” notes Haidt. “Liberals tend to focus more on victims and the poor.”

I’d argue that these broader distinctions hold true for politically liberal and conservative Christians and manifest in a plethora of issues, abortion included. Conservative Christians are more apt to point out that with sex comes the potential for pregnancy, and that a prudent sex life is one way to reduce unplanned pregnancies. Liberal Christians, conversely, are more likely to point out where such ideological systems fail, whether it comes to rape victims or the racially disparate impact abortion-related policies can have on poor communities. That’s not to say that no conservative Christians focus on helping victims or that no liberal Christians care about personal responsibility, but it is to note a general trend in the issues that each side chooses to highlight.

Liberal and conservative Christians are not going to figure out magically harmonious solutions to the issues that matter. I still maintain James and other pro-choice Christians are fundamentally, Biblically wrong about abortion, and I’m sure they’d say the same in return. But on a broader scale, I and my right-leaning friends need our left-leaning brothers and sisters in Christ in a major way—to keep us from falling into our temptation to forget about victims, focus solely on the law, and forget grace. To build on one of Arthur Brooks’ timeless points about polarization, conservative Christians need liberal Christians and their passion for the poor, the victims, and the ‘least of these.’ Liberal Christians need conservative Christians and their tenacity in defending the value of truth, respect for order, and the quiet, peaceful life in all Godliness.

It doesn’t mean that we’re all right—we can’t be. It doesn’t mean that we agree more—we shouldn’t. It does mean that we need to realize the blindspots in our own focus and emphasis, and the people we disagree with can be the perfect path to doing that. When it comes to talking to the majority of our fellow Americans about abortion, that’s a tool we can’t afford to ignore.

Picture credit: “Roe v Wade Overturned,” Ted Eytan. License here.