I pray that the video series by The Center for Medical Progress (CMP) will shock America and awaken our nation to the shame that is Planned Parenthood.

The tapes are dramatic, raw and honest.  Some members of the traditional media and liberal politicians say the folks who did the videos are sneaky.  The President’s official spokesman even said the White House wants to investigate how the videos were made, suggesting they were “heavily edited” to produce the desired result.  (NOTE:  CMP released the entire unedited tapes, just in case someone wants to judge the appropriateness of their editing.)

White House objections ring hollow, coming from an administration headed by a president who vows his support for abortion because a woman who gets pregnant shouldn’t “be punished with a baby.”  In a sane, just world our leaders would be appalled that someone is selling parts of dismembered babies – and they would be praising the people who revealed the scandal.

In fact, the proponents of Planned Parenthood are afraid that the truth is finally on graphic display; it is an ugly truth.  It is a truth of crushed baby skulls and tiny dismembered bodies auctioned to the highest bidder.

Bless the video producers for this courageous work.  And if they were a bit sneaky, they were simply following a long tradition by people trying to change society for the better.  The “sting” is nothing new.

Police capture drug dealers and pimps by pretending to be customers for their illicit goods and services.  For these efforts, we give our law enforcement officials awards.

Reporters expose corrupt politicians by posing as people willing to offer a bribe for a favor.  For these efforts, journalists win Pulitzer Prizes.

CMP is doing the work journalists at the major newspapers and television networks ought to be doing.  Instead, “real” journalists are simply reading the latest liberal talking points.  Instead of questioning CMP’s techniques, they should be apologizing for not getting the story first.  They have failed to report this generation’s holocaust.

Millions of innocent souls were tortured and murdered in the Nazi concentration camps of World War II.  At the end of the war, many Germans – some living in the shadows of the camps – said they had no idea what was going on inside.  As a result, in some cases liberating Allied forces marched the locals through the camps and showed them.  As you might expect, it was a shocking experience; they could not deny what they had not know or perhaps denied before.

Now is our turn.  We have seen inside the camps of Planned Parenthood.  Will we continue to deny?

 

 

 

I’m just back from a family trip to Ireland.  It was truly joyful, the marriage of this man’s only son to a young woman he completely approves of.

Some have asked whether I’m disappointed my son lives in Ireland and likely will indefinitely.  No, to be disappointed would be selfish and would put my happiness at having him near above the happiness he finds with the woman he loves, her family that has accepted him with love and the happiness I see in the newly married couple.

This is a situation that makes a man (me) proud, grateful and happy.

I found another source of happiness that surprised me a bit:  the enthusiastic expression of the Catholic faith.

Of course, there was a time when one would expect nothing less.  Irish history is a history of Catholic fidelity and missionary zeal. But with the many scandals of the past few years, reduction in vocations and increasingly secular nature of Irish culture, it would seem the Catholic faith would be hard to find.  If you believe the news media coverage of the past decade, you wouldn’t expect to find many Catholics.

My experience was different and I offer a few supporting points of evidence:

1. The wedding was a Catholic Mass, presided over by a middle-age priest full of joy about his faith, obviously thrilled to be uniting two people in Christian marriage. He joined us for the reception dinner and I had a chance to talk with him at length; he was thrilled to be a priest and optimistic about the future.
2. We visited the Marian Shrine at Knock, a moving and inspiriting place. We planned to attend Mass in the local parish, but a visiting priest entered the shrine while we were there and celebrated Mass for the pilgrims present.  He was young, dynamic, enthusiastic and a terrific homilist – a native of Belfast, serving in England.
3. We stayed at a Bed and Breakfast owned and operated by an older lady who was obviously and happily Catholic. In addition to the B&B, she cares for her disabled brother – and has for his entire adult life.
4. The country oozes Catholicism, from the ruins of ancient monasteries to modern religious sculptures along the highways.

God is so surprising.  I went for a wedding and found my faith renewed.

I’ve been scratching my head a bit after seeing picture of the White House illuminated in rainbow colors.

My head itched more when a Facebook friend suggested that it should be illuminated in red, white and blue for the Fourth of July.  After all, if you do it for gays you should do it for patriots (yes, there could be some overlap here).

And that got me to thinking that with the nation deeply in debt, the White House has a huge untapped marketing potential.  All sorts of things are named after a commercial interest:  sports arenas, music venues, football bowl games, even segments on news broadcasts – they all have a sponsor.

We’ve had the Poulan Weed Eater Independence Bowl, the Thrifty Car Rental Holiday Bowl and the Bell Helicopter Armed Forces Bowl.

The Houston Astros play baseball in Minute Maid Park.  The Indianapolis Colts play football in Lucas Oil Stadium.  Dallas’ professional soccer team plays in Pizza Hut Park.

These various companies pay big bucks to put their names on public edifices.  So I have to think someone would pay a huge sum to put their logo on the White House.

Consider the possibilities:  The JC Penny Presidential Palace…The Coke Capital Coop…The White Castle White House.

Crazy?  I don’t think so.  If you can light the nation’s home in colors to celebrate gay marriage you might as well use the place to pitch soda and sliders.

My mom often read to me (before I could read for myself).  And I especially recall the story of the Little Red Hen.  It goes something like this…

There were many animals on the farm. They lived there happily. The little Red Hen was in the farmyard with her chickens when she found some grains of wheat.

“Who will plant this wheat?” she said. “Please plant it. Then we can have more grain when the plant grows.”

“Not I,” said the Goose. “Not I,” said the Duck. “I will, then,” said the little Red Hen.

She watered it, too. Every day she checked the plants to see how they grew. After a month, the wheat grew into plants. The wheat plants had many more seeds.

When the wheat was ripe she said, “Who will take this wheat to the mill?”

“Not I,” said the Goose. “Not I,” said the Duck. “I will, then,” said the little Red Hen, sadly. “I will do it myself.”

So then she took the wheat to the mill. When she brought the flour home she said, “Who will make some bread with this flour?”

“Not I,” said the Goose. “Not I,” said the Duck. “I will, then,” said the little Red Hen.

When the bread was baked, she said, “Who will eat this bread?” “I will,” said the Goose “I will,” said the Duck .

“No, you won’t,” said the little Red Hen. “You did not help. I will eat it myself. Cluck! Cluck!” She ate it with her children, the chickens.

My mother (the Methodist) intended to instill in me a spirit of self-reliance and responsibility.  Put another way, those who do the work get to enjoy the fruit of their labor.  Having grown up on a farm, mom probably could relate to the hard-working hen.

Neither mom nor our family were ones to take a handout.  But they also were quick to share their harvest with those in need.  During the Great Depression, my grandma regularly hosted hungry travelers for dinner, folks who were just passing by and were in need of a good meal.  (And boy could my grandma make a good meal.)

A case could be made that the hen wasn’t the most generous bird in the barnyard.  On the other hand, it wasn’t as if the goose and duck couldn’t work – they chose not to.  And they expected something for nothing.

It is an old story.  And it was the hen’s choice whether to share or keep her gains for herself and her family.

Today, the story likely would end differently:

After the hen refused to share, the goose and the duck filed a complaint with a federal judge, who confiscated the hen’s bread and distributed it among the other animals in the barnyard, after taking half of it for court expenses (and because, as I’ve read, some animals are more equal than others).

Federal intervention is what happens when society lacks Catholic values and decision.  A Catholic hen would have looked around the barnyard and shared with any other birds truly in need.  And a Catholic goose and Catholic duck would never sue to get someone else’s goods.  Catholic critters would help each other in a joyful spirit.

Thus, it isn’t hard to realize that we don’t live in a Catholic society (or Christian of any flavor, for that matter).  We live in a society where the hens are selfish and the geese and ducks are often lazy.  And instead of people willingly helping each other and taking on responsibility, the government confiscates from some and makes others dependent.

All this makes for a very messy barnyard.