Babies Now Equal to Elephants

Provided by Creative Commons License Wikimedia

File:CircusProcessionElephants1888.jpg Description "Circus Procession" 1888 artwork showing two elephants in human clothing, one of whom rides a tricycle, a clown, and 3 uniformed ... (1,853 × 1,265 (2.46 MB)) - 07:28, 5 October 2012

File:CircusProcessionElephants1888.jpg

Description "Circus Procession" 1888 artwork showing two elephants in human clothing, one of whom rides a tricycle, a clown, and 3 uniformed ...

(1,853 × 1,265 (2.46 MB)) - 07:28, 5 October 2012

Last Tuesday, the family went to the circus.  We parked the car in the parking lot, and as we were walking towards the circus, I saw a group of people who looked like they were protesting, or picketing.  I didn't want to cross a union picket line; I was concerned.  As I talked with them, I found out that they were representing animal rights groups.  They contend that the animals in the circus, specifically the elephants, were taken out of the wild, where they belong, and forced to work and live in unnatural conditions.

What I think of their contention, is not the point of this post.  The fact that these people were exercising their freedom of speech rights is important. I immediately thought of my friend Eleanor McCullen.  I wrote of her case in front of the Supreme Court in March.  

Because of the "Buffer Zone" law in Massachusetts, Eleanor could not talk to people going into an abortion clinic, like the people concerned about the elephants talked to me.  I also thought of the people who stop me on the street and ask me to sign their petition for this and/or that.  I buy girl scout cookies from little girls who sell out on the sidewalk. And every now and then, I see some people sitting outside the post office who want to impeach the president.

Think of all the people who get their message out by talking to you face to face.  But Eleanor and other pro-lifers, are denied that right, supposedly granted in the First Amendment.

That was Tuesday.  Yesterday-Thursday,  McCullen v. Coakley was decided. It was a unanimous decision.   Eleanor can now talk to people, just like everybody else can.

The sidewalk is public.  The pro-life people can now counsel people.

Justice Roberts said "Petitioners are not protesters."   And I am celebrating over this decison.

Eleanor McClellan

Tonight, my "cloistered brothers" and I listened to Eleanor McClellan.  This is the Eleanor from McClellan v. Coakley.  She told us her story.

In the year 2000 she felt moved to do something about abortion.  So she prayed.  She felt that she was just taking the easy way out and made herself go to an abortion clinic and pray.  Every week, on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, from 9-12 she prayed in front of an abortion clinic.

Then came the day when one of the counselors was sick and she was asked to step in a be a counselor.  She had no idea what to do.  A couple walked by and she said, "Can I help you?"  They just looked at her as they passed by.  A few minutes later, the man came out to smoke a cigarette.  She said to the man that she wanted to help him if he would let her.  He looked at her and seemed interested.  So she said, "Go back inside and get your wife."

He did.

Eleanor was shocked.  Soon they both came out together and she said, "I'd like to help you, can we go somewhere to talk."  She took them to her house.  Once there, she telephoned someone to come talk to them.  The couple eventually was helped.  They had the baby.  He's eleven years old now and Eleanor gets a picture of him, every year.

This became her function--counseling.  Then, in 2007, Massachusetts passed what is known as the buffer zone law.  The pro life people have to stand 35 feet away from the doors to the abortion clinic.  This definitely hampers Eleanor's counseling.  She can't get close enough to counsel people.  Yet the workers in the clinic can.  Discrimination?

But the argument Eleanor and her lawyers are using is that sidewalks are protected places of free speech, protected under First Amendment rights.

Eleanor counsels consensually.  She doesn't hold signs or yell.  She quietly talks to people.  

The opposing side kept calling Eleanor a protestor.  The court objected to this label because Eleanor doesn't protest; she counsels.  

This is a counsel case, not a protest case.  And that's how it was left.  The decision won't be decided before June.

March for Life

Wicked Awesome! Wicked Great! Wicked Sweet! Wicked Wonderful! Wicked, Wicked!

The worse part was the bus ride, but let's begin at the beginning.

The bus left St. Brendan's at 9:00 PM. We arrived at the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception at 5:00 AM. It was a miserable night of trying to sleep on the bus. The bus only stopped for us once-- for 15 min. I only had time to make a pit stop and grab a bottle of water out of the vending machine. There was no leg room on the bus. One spring had sprung in my seat. There was no room. The two bus drivers talked all night, keeping me awake--but I couldn't sleep anyway, so I shouldn't blame them. I just couldn't get comfortable.

At 5:00, it was dark, cold, and beginning to rain. We ran into the Basilica. People were in their seats already for the 7:00 AM Mass. There wasn't a seat available. Standing room only and Mass wasn't for two hours!

So I went downstairs to the Crypt where there was Adoration. I saw that that was where a lot of people were sleeping. Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament was in the Crypt Church. I knew I would doze off if I went, but I figured Jesus would understand.

But I didn't fall asleep. A blessing meant for me happened. The student brothers from the Dominican House of Studies came soon after I sat down, and led us in Lauds and Benediction.
Awesome! The only brother I recognized was Brother Augustine Marie Reisenauer, O.P. It was a gracefulled experience.


Benediction was followed by the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. I was hitting everything just right. But I have to give credit to my friend, Jean. Jean was with me and she's a veteran of the March and knew the ropes. After Mass, the cafeteria was opened for breakfast. Thanks be to God.

The March didn't start until Noon--actually two, but at Noon, the speeches start. So we had at least two hours to kill. We walked to the John Paul Cultural Center. But it was closed. Jean and I decided to go to the National Gallery of Art because it was on the route for the March. We had to there, anyway. So we took the Metro.

Forget about Charley being lost on the MTA. Jean and I got lost in the Metro. We asked about three or four different people and were sent three or four different directions. People are willing to help when you ask for help, even when they don't know, but they try. :-/

The National Gallery of Art was wicked. We spent all our time in four rooms--the religious art. We could have stayed there forever. Reluctantly, we pulled ourselves away to go to the cafeteria for lunch. We ate at the Cascade Cafe and decided to make this our main meal, because who knew what was in store for us for supper.

Trying to find the same exit that we used to enter was difficult. We used that coat check room for our belongings, so we needed to exit those particular doors. We were terribly lost, again. However, being lost in the Gallery of Art is by for much more preferable, than being lost in the Metro.

Eventually, we exited. We stood on the steps waiting for the March to go by and we would join the Massachusetts Citizens for Life group. We waited.

We waited.

We waited.

??????????

We could see the Marchers down the end of the street; what was the hold up? We waited.

Gradually, it dawned on us, and everybody else waiting, that the Marchers weren't walking down our street, as they had on previous Walks for Life. They were going a different route. So we walked down to them.

God is good. Another gracefulled moment. We walked right into where we belonged--the Massachusetts Citizens for Life.

It was a proud moment, to walk by the Supreme Court as we exercised our freedoms to protest to the Supreme Court, our disagreement with Roe v. Wade. The Freedom to Assemble and the Freedom of Speech were practiced virtually, literally, and personally.

May God bless America.