All Vulnerable Are "Our Vulnerable"
By Julia Greenwood
Two weeks ago, vice president Mike Pence addressed the hundreds of thousands gathered on the National Mall for the rally preceding the 44th Annual March for Life, the world’s largest pro-life demonstration: “Let this movement be known for love,” he said. “Not for anger. For compassion.”
He later offered, “I believe we will continue to change the hearts and minds of the rising generation if our hearts first break for young mothers and their unborn children,” while his own voice broke. He spoke repeatedly of love, compassion, and hope—hope for a culture of life in America and for a movement that “cares for all” and “shows respect for the dignity and worth of every person.”
On the very same day, president Donald Trump issued an executive order titled “Protecting the Nation from Foreign Terrorist Entry into the United States.” As his vice president was speaking about respecting the dignity of every human being, the president was busy signing into effect a measure that would ban citizens of seven Muslim-majority countries from entering the United States for 90 days and prohibited the entrance of refugees for 120 days.
This pair of events illustrates a theme which the Initiative on Catholic Social Thought and Public Life has spent the past year exploring, namely, the discrepancies between Catholic Social Thought and the binary that our two-party system forces upon voters. Catholic voters—and, in this case, those who subscribe to the consistent life ethic—do not have much of a home in American politics. It seems there is no party with a truly consistent life ethic and there is not much space for citizens seeking to practice Catholic Social Thought (CST).
While the issues of abortion and immigration policy are two very different issues, they are not unrelated. The principles of CST that undergird the Church’s teachings on human life and dignity—the belief that human life is sacred and that respect for human dignity is the foundation for a moral society—similarly lay the groundwork for the Church’s teaching on refugees and immigrants. To discount humanity in one arena undercuts it in another, rendering it difficult for citizens to advance the goals of CST in the current American political system.
The day after the March for life, the 18th Annual Cardinal O’Connor Conference
on Life at Georgetown addressed this very predicament. The largest student-run pro-life conference in the nation, the conference this year addressed its theme of “Working Toward a Truly Pro-Life Politics” in a panel discussion moderated by John Carr, the director of the Initiative. Carr indeed brought up the executive order that had been issued the previous day to highlight what many have identified as inconsistencies in the president’s supposed commitment to human life.
While I found this year’s march to be a joyous experience and a tremendous display of love and respect for human life and dignity, it was also—in hindsight—very much tainted by the president’s inconsistent regard for human life.
Although Mike Pence spoke about his hopes for the pro-life movement, some of his words—and the crowd’s vigorous cheers at every mention of our president—left me a bit uneasy, even before learning of the executive order. Pence spoke about Donald Trump as something of a hero to the pro-life cause, lauding his “boundless” vision and energy and his commitment to keeping his promises. “Life is winning again in America,” he said, to a thunderous roar. And seconds later: “I’ve long believed that a society can be judged by how we care for our most vulnerable.”
Pope Francis agrees. In a message for the World Day of Migrants and Refugees last September, he invoked similar language: “[T]he worth of an institution is measured by the way it treats the life and dignity of human beings, particularly when they are vulnerable.”
Recently, Mike Pence followed his claim about the basis for judging a society by naming various categories of the vulnerable, citing the disabled and the unborn, among others. What he seems to have forgotten, however, is that “our vulnerable” don’t end where American borders cease, because “our vulnerable” are not just Americans. We are not just Americans, but citizens of humanity—and “our vulnerable” includes all vulnerable brothers and sisters. Whether they are Muslim or Christian, foreign-born or U.S. citizens, born or preborn, all vulnerable are “our vulnerable,” and all people are our people.
Julia Greenwood (C'19) is an undergraduate studying American studies at Georgetown.