Ellington

Today has been an upsetting, disturbing, thought-provoking day. Six weeks ago, I discovered the Unitarian Universalists. I've never been a religious person; I'm convinced that organized religion is not my thing. That makes me something of a social outcast here in the "buckle" of the Bible Belt. Not that it bothers me personally, but it's been isolating from time to time. Discovering the UUs, as they refer to themselves, has been invigorating. But this story isn't about religion.

As I drove up to the church today, crowds stood on both sides of State Street, a half-dozen police cars scattered about, lights flashing. I knew that reproductive rights were the subject of today's forum (the UU version of Sunday school). I wasn't expecting a demonstration, but here it was—30 to 40 people on the pro-choice side of the street, and about a dozen on the pro-life side.

The pro-lifers had a sound system. Several speakers provided a relentless fire-and-brimstone sermon, surely loud enough to be heard for many blocks in any direction. The fate of the pro-choice folks was hell, hell, hell, they proclaimed, unless, of course, we would repent and follow the Bible's literal teachings and take Jesus as our personal savior. Among them was a videographer scanning the crowd on the opposite side of the street. Gory signs depicted allegedly aborted fetuses while others derided gays and same-sex marriage; a few even blamed AIDS on gays. Somehow, I think Jesus would have been appalled.

In contrast, the pro-choice group was well-behaved—almost subdued—complying with a request to respect the sanctity of the UU services. They stood quietly holding banners and signs, or milled about speaking with one another. One sign read, "If you can't trust me with a choice, how can you trust me with a child?" They were a young crowd overall, many dressed in black. Several in the group wore bandanas over their faces, leaving only their eyes free. "Those people (the pro-lifers) are taking pictures of us," one masked woman told me. "Pro-choice people have been identified from rallies like this, and some have been killed. This is a cause I would die for, but I'm not a martyr. Why put myself in harm's way intentionally?"

The Jackson UU congregation is no stranger to violence. The current pastor related to me the story of Howard Thompson: In the turbulent '60s, the KKK allegedly gunned down Thompson, a UU pastor, because of his belief in the liberal, inclusive UU creed, which openly accepts people regardless of color, sexual orientation or belief about God. Founded in Christianity, and often frowned upon by religious fundamentalists and extremists, their creed is moral and ethical but not religious. They can be accused of indecisiveness, or worse, of being a satanic cult, but my personal experience tells a different story. Members of the Jackson congregation seem to be intelligent, thoughtful, spiritual and gentle people; they are as far from a cult as chalk is to cheese.

Today, however, access to the front door of the church is built to be unassailable by drive-by shooters, and the sanctuary has no windows—the better to protect the congregation from bombs and bullets. They are also unabashedly pro-choice and unafraid to stand for their beliefs. Naturally, the pro-choice rallyists gathered in the shady UU church parking lot, while the pro-life group stood exposed to the brutal July sun on the opposite side of the street. (I firmly believe there are no accidents).

Inside, the forum session was packed, the traditional circle ever-expanding as new voices joined in. There were opposing viewpoints: Some were pro-life or religious fundamentalists; others expressed pro-choice sentiments. UUs are respectful of differing opinions, and passions were held in check; there was no loud debating or heated exchange, only an opportunity for all to be heard. Bible quotes, lies and conspiracy theories, statistics, political statements and a few stories borne out of deeply personal and emotional experiences—all received respectful, equal time for expression. Clearly, everyone in the room believed what they said; there were no pretenders. But no one's mind was changed this morning. Some, like me, walked away even more unyielding in the rightness of their opinion.

On the street, the preachers kept preaching, the banners kept fluttering, and there was no dialogue. I wonder if dialogue is even possible on such a divisive issue. It pains me deeply that there may be no meeting of minds on the issue of reproductive choice. There will always be fanatics at both ends, and our beliefs will pull us in one direction or the other. I have my opinion, and no Bible-thumping pro-lifer will ever change my mind. And no heathen baby-killer will ever change the mind of a pro-lifer.

So what's an ordinary citizen to do?

It's simple, it's democratic, it's American: Stand for what you believe in; speak your mind; carry a sign; protest a law; sign a petition; vote. The best, most memorable Americans have been committed and unashamed. As Americans, we should know that our future is in our hands; our Constitution guarantees us the freedom to shape the future. Will you take part in creating a future that you can live with, or will you sit fearfully or idly on the sidelines? We have the choice, at least for the moment, to choose. So choose your future. Resist the temptation to have it all done to you. Become a part of making something happen.

For me, I'm going to the NOW meeting tomorrow night. I'll pick up a sign and march again. I'll stand and be a voice for my freedoms: That's what it takes to keep them.