Faith and Reproductive Freedom

Led by Rev. Alison Miller with Dana Buhl

and the new C.A.R.D. Team (Caring and Action for Reproductive Dignity)

Call to Worship

By Rev. Alison Miller

Our sanctuary is a place for the indwelling and upswelling of love.

We gather for spiritual nourishment and fortification

To allow that love to flow and carve a path

Even when there doesn’t seem to be a way.

Before Roe fifty years ago, many paths were closed.

After Roe, there were many paths that still needed opening.

While some worked to carve new paths,

Others worked to throw down boulders in those paths,

And for a time, they have limited loves movement.

But, we who believe in sexuality education

will continue to offer OWL, Our Whole Lives, to our children, youth, and adults,

and anyone who wishes to join us.

We who believe in freedom

will not let others trample on our faith values.

We who believe in amplifying the voices of those on the margins

will not stop learning how to do that more and more effectively.

We who believe in justice

will not tire of our efforts to remove those boulders,

even if we must learn how to carve under them, climb over them, and go around them.

We will forge a path for a love rooted in collective liberation.

May this hour and our lives be about that kind of love.

Homily, “Faith and Reproductive Freedom”

By Rev. Alison Miller

Today, we join with hundreds of other Unitarian Universalist congregations who have said Yes! to the UUA’s Side with Love campaign and are holding a service on the Anniversary of Roe vs. Wade. As my colleague, the Reverend Sarah LaWall, referenced in her remarks, our congregation in Dallas played a pivotal role in that case. An example is that the women in The Alliance of that church were involved in writing an amicus brief for the case, as well as galvanizing support throughout Texas from then until now.

Unitarian Universalists said Yes! to reproductive freedom and dignity, justice, and healthcare access alongside of Dallas UUs in every part of the country. Here in Portland, we have members who played a pivotal organizing role in our state. Two examples are: Mabsie Walters served as president of NARAL – the National Abortion Rights Action League – from 1971 – 1973 and Jesalee Fosterling engaging as one of the founders of Planned Parenthood in Portland. Those are but two names. I know there are others, and I hope you’ll continue to share the stories with me.

As we all know, as soon as the US Supreme Court upheld a person’s right to choose, religious and political conservatives have made efforts to limit that right. In 1978, sermons preached by the Reverend Alan Deale could be heard from this pulpit denouncing Ballot Measure 7 aimed at prohibiting state funding for abortion. In 1981, our congregation was asked by Planned Parenthood to be petitioners in a lawsuit challenging the state’s restriction on accessing abortions with Medicaid Funds. We said Yes! and the suit was ultimately successful. These are critical examples of our engagement because having the legal right to an abortion is not the same as having access. We must eliminate the barriers of distance, economics, gender and racial inequities in order to ensure that reproductive freedom is truly available to all.

In this time of severe, harmful limitations to abortion access all around our country, it is vital that we who live in a state with the most robust reproductive freedom legislation are not complacent. It is our role to listen and amplify the voices of women of color, trans, nonbinary, and gender nonconforming folks in our congregation and in our state who can share the work that remains undone, so we can press forward as collaborative agents of change. It is our role to support and to be guided by our siblings in faith in Idaho who live in one of the worst states in terms of abortion access and to follow their lead as to how we can best serve justice as their neighbors.

A couple of weeks ago, I visited Planned Parenthood Columbia-Willamette and met with the CEO, Anne Udall. She shared with me that the closest clinic to Idaho is in Bend, which is still hours away. They are now seeing that half of their clients are coming from Idaho.

At one point I was pre-med and held an internship in a Family Planning Clinic in Brooklyn and counseled people on their options when they were pregnant, and I am a pastor who continues to counsel people who are in spiritual discernment about their options. I want to name and claim just how important it is that we name this abortion is not just a legal right and a healthcare right, it is a sacred right. Our bodies are sacred, and our right to self-determination about what happens to them is sacred.

Today, following this service, there is an exhibit in Buchan, where we are bearing witness to this truth, which is grounded in our first principle: “We covenant to affirm and promote the inherent worth and dignity of every person.” Every person who has ever had to choose herself when the pregnancy threatened her life… every person who knew that they couldn’t support another child… every person who was never given access to information about contraceptive methods… every person who wasn’t ready or certain they never would want a child… every person who chose birth even when they were told they shouldn’t… every person who didn’t want to be linked to that act of violence forever… every person who doesn’t want or need to share why… every person who became a healthcare provider who includes abortion as part of care… every person, every body, every story, every one of their and your lives are sacred.

So many of us in our sanctuary, in our state, and in our country have stories connected to abortion, reproductive loss, birth, adoption, fertility, infertility, economic injustice and racial injustice as a part of healthcare. This topic includes seeds that sprout in many places for us. Whatever your story is, please know that you are loved and holy and worthy of healing and wholeness.

Simply put. It is pro-life, pro-love, pro-family, and pro-faith to ensure that every person has access to the full spectrum of healthcare to terminate a pregnancy, and the full spectrum of healthcare to carry a fetus to term, and just laws and policies that help a parent to care for a child after they are born. So, let us continue to be a source of Yes! and collaborative agents of change until there are no exceptions. May it be so! And, amen.

Abortion Stories:

Intro by Dana Buhl
Stories from Focus on Abortion: Americans Share Their Stories book and exhibit ©2022 by Roslyn Banish
with litany between by Rev. Alison Miller

Intro by Dana Buhl:

We soon will be hearing abortion stories as told by a diverse range of identities in the book and exhibit, Focus on Abortion: Americans Share Their Stories by Roslyn Banish. Her book highlights stories of sixty-two people who, as she writes, “found and developed their voices to speak about abortion at a time when stigma and silence still weigh heavily on our society.” She goes on to say, “By harnessing the power of their nuanced stories, my hope is that they will build bridges of understanding between disparate voices in the often-polarized conversations around abortion.”

We wish to uplift that each of the stories told is unique, authentic. And while there are cultural themes as well as themes of oppression that run through the stories, we want to remember that the individual stories do not represent the experiences or perspectives of all people who share gender, age, racial, ethnic, religious, or sexual identities.

Some details of the stories we will hear are graphic, some may be triggering, some may resonate strongly with our own personal, family or relational stories. It’s important for everyone with us here today, and those who are watching from home, to know that your wellbeing is important. We invite you to do what you need to take care of yourself.

If you are here in the Sanctuary and wish to light a candle in one of the side galleries at any point during the service, please feel free to do so. Move as you need to. Soon, we’ll have call and response while lighting candles here on the chancel. At home, you’re invited to join the ritual by light a candle yourself, or using the chat and type a lower case “i” to represent an ignited candle.

My abortion happened thirteen years ago when I was 17. It was the summer between graduation from high school and going away to college, and I was working part-time at a restaurant. I was feeling off, not sure what was going on. Finally, I went to Planned Parenthood in Pasadena–I always want to give a shout-out to them—and I found out I was pregnant. It was far enough along where I could not do an at-home medication abortion, so I scheduled a procedure for about two weeks after that.

I remember very particular things about the day of my abortion. I had to go pick up my boyfriend who got me pregnant. I was running late. I was super, super stressed. At the clinic, I remember distinctly another couple there for an abortion. They were laughing and giggling. I was really moody, really closed up. My boyfriend at the time was like, “Why are you so angry? Why can’t we be like that couple over there?” I was like, “Out of all this, that’s what you’re upset about?” Who goes to an abortion appointment and is angry that their girlfriend is moody about it?

I remember vividly the nurse who was there with the doctor. She held my hand the whole time. Just at that moment I felt the comfort that I needed. At the time of my abortion, only my boyfriend knew about it. I was definitely never going to tell my mom. I was sure that telling her would open all these doors for conversations we’d never had, like sex, like dating. If we didn’t talk about sex, and we didn’t talk about relationships, how do you talk about abortion?

In my family and in Chinese culture, there’s a lot of expectations, and the expectations can change depending on whether you’re a girl or a boy. For me, beyond being a good kid, being a good daughter, you were always very amenable to everything your family tells you to do. Like, if you’re a girl, then you should be acting more feminine. If I were a boy they would expect me to act more masculine or maybe go into a different field in school, like the sciences. I now have a baby named River, and I just don’t want River to go through that. River’s father and I are not gendering River. We refer to River as they/them. We’ve said that when they’re older, and they know and decide what their gender is then they will let us know.

For me, having gone through an abortion, pregnancy and a miscarriage, and then River’s birth, I would never, ever want anyone to have to go through a pregnancy that they did not want. I have a deep appreciation for a person, whether they choose to remain pregnant or get an abortion, because they’re making whatever decision they think is best for them.

First Candle

Minister:

We honor Lokyee’s story. We honor her wisdom about whether and when to remain pregnant.

Congregation:

Our choices about our bodies are respected. Our stories and our lives are sacred.

As far as I’m concerned, the climate for reproductive rights is now in the dark ages.

At the time of my abortion I was freshly out of college in Virginia. I met somebody who I could almost say was the love of my life. And I got pregnant. I realized I was too young to have a baby. I was just about to step out in the world and be a real person instead of a child. I just knew that I was not fit to be a mother at that time. And I’ve never regretted it.

When I did my abortion, it was back in 1954. I never talked to anybody about it. I think the biggest concern I had was that my parents would never know.

I had a back-alley abortion in North Carolina, done with a coat hanger. A back-alley abortion is how people did it then. I guess a person, not necessarily a doctor, just started the abortion with a coat hanger, and then you bled all over the place, and you ended up in the hospital. And the hospital seemed to be vaguely aware of what was happening.

Thank God the man that I was in love with came with me to the abortion. I didn’t question my beliefs. I knew that having the baby would be a huge mistake for two human lives. Period. And that may have been selfish but you know, we do have to take care of ourselves. Don’t we?

There’s always a little fear when you have got extreme pain and bleeding. But it got the job done. Afterwards I used to worry a bit, wondering if I could have children when I was ready to have children. And as things turned out, I did have children when I was ready to be a mother.

Second Candle

Minister:

We honor Lani’s story. We honor her courage and endurance at a time when access was denied and harm rather than healthcare was a part of choice.

Congregation:

Our choices about our bodies are respected. Our stories and our lives are sacred.

At 14, I became pregnant through incest by my cousin. This was 1968, so I had no choice but to have the baby. I was living in San Antonio, Texas. Perhaps there were girls going to Mexico to have abortions. My family, a Southern Christian family, had no knowledge of those things, and so my only real decision was whether or not to keep the baby.

My mother was unbelievably angry. When she knew I was pregnant she stuck me in a home for unwed mothers. I would have the baby, give him up for adoption, and slide back into my high school life, except that I flipped the script when I chose to keep my son. I was the only Black kid at this Salvation Army home.

I became areligious because one of the penances I had to do was stand up in front of my church and confess that I’d been a sinner. And I was so unbelievably hurt by that. I mean, I was sinned against! There was no censure available for my cousin who had made me pregnant.

Two years later I was a freshman in college at Howard University. In order to get birth control at age 16, I needed parental consent. I could not persuade my mother to sign the consent form. She just thought I would never have sex again until I got married.

Needless to say, that didn’t work. I became pregnant in my freshman year. My boyfriend at the time was in law school, and he was more than happy to pay for this abortion. Now, I was very, very lucky because I was in Washington, D.C., which legalized abortion three years before Roe v. Wade. This is 1970.

I became an activist while living in D.C., first as a volunteer and then the director of the first Rape Crisis Center. Since that first job I have been seriously involved in the women’s movement, especially around Reproductive Justice. In 1997, we founded Sister Song in Atlanta, to lift up and amplify the voices of women of color. It’s still going strong.

Third Candle:

Minister:

We honor Loretta’s story. We honor her strength and resilience to find a way in the wake of violence and to open the way for others.

Congregation:

Our choices about our bodies are respected. Our stories and our lives are sacred.

I am an obstetrician gynecologist, and I provide full scope of reproductive health care: everything from pap smears to prenatal care to abortions to birth control to delivering babies.

When I say I am a pro-life abortion provider, it takes people a while to wrap their heads around it. The word “choice,” the word “life” are so charged. I would really like to work on taking back the word “life” because I feel like as a physician, part of m y responsibility is to have a commitment to life, to supporting life. How can you say that I’m not pro-life when I have children of my own and I’m giving women their lives back when I’m doing their abortions?

In my medical school training, I was really struck by the fact that abortion was considered a separate part of OBGYN. Nobody would opt out of delivering a baby or doing a pap smear but abortion has become so polarized that people can choose not to get that training.

In my current practice, a lot of the high points have to do with the abortions I do. I see patients who have unplanned, undesired pregnancies, and I see patients who have fetal anomalies who are referred for termination as well. My practice allows me to educate a patient about their options, and it allows me to dispel a lot of myths. Surely supporting the woman and her family in whatever decision they need, by providing prenatal care or by terminating the pregnancy, is one of the best parts of what I do.

There is a stigma both about getting an abortion and about being an abortion provider. People are reticent to talk about the fact that they had an abortion. When you have a newborn, everybody wants to hear your birth story. But there isn’t that same societal acceptance around telling your abortion story and experience.

Fourth Candle

Minister:

We honor Pratima’s story. We honor her clarity about the right to bodily autonomy and her calling to educate, to heal, and to serve life.

Congregation:

Our choices about our bodies are respected. Our stories and our lives are sacred.

I took back the night I lost my virginity,

I took back the night we laid in a drunken puddle,

I took back the night I got pregnant four days after my 21st birthday

(at least that night was quiet, comfortable),

I took back the night of the abortion.

Not a regret but a reclaiming.

I still had a sadness within me that was unfamiliar.

What saved me was I found a community of people who sole purpose was to serve others.

They fought for justice, they advocated on behalf of others.

In my heart, I joined the cause, the fight, the movement, the revolution.

I was so tired, I forgot to feel sad. I grew tired of being a pity party.

I met other women who had, had abortions,

more than one,

several,

many over the years,

mostly hidden moments, not shameful, just hidden.

The things unspoken,

the date marked on your calendar for no other reason except

a silent acknowledgement.

We mark our bodies with tattoo memorials

for the babies of abortions have no place of rest,

No gravestones,

no ash remains,

we walk like queens,

3, 4, 5 abortions,

we are fertile ground.

Our bodies transformed to hold life,

our minds continue to hold what our bodies stopped holding onto.

We do not forget.

It is all just whispered,

talked about in hush tones.

Fifth Candle:

Minister:

We honor A’misa’s story. We honor her power to break the silence about abortion and to transform the landscape from isolation to healing.

Congregation:

Our choices about our bodies are respected. Our stories and our lives are sacred.

Sixth Candle:

Minister:

We honor your story.

You who can see yourself reflected in these women’s lives.

You who are trans, non-binary, or gender non-conforming and have had an abortion. You who will be having an abortion.

You who were or are the partner or a companion.

You who were a caregiver in the terrible before times where you were on your own.

You who are the caregivers of today who save lives by offering access.

You who had an abortion and desperately wanted the child.

You who knew it was the right thing and moved on.

You who were conflicted and have not been able to let go.

You who are pregnant and wondering.

You who are the advocates ready to fight for reproductive justice, dignity, and freedom. You who have a story that has yet to be shared.

Congregation:

Our choices about our bodies are respected. Our stories and our lives are sacred.

– Litany by Rev. Alison Miller

Topics: Creation

LOCATION

First Unitarian Portland

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