By Grace Acosta
Terri Schiavo is not the poster child for the rights of the disabled or the “culture of life.” If anything, she is the poster child for people suffering from eating disorders, for people who have yet to draw up a living will and for legislative bodies that write laws that apply exclusively to a single family. I just read about a living will that was actually amended to read, “I really, really, really, really mean this,” and another one that stipulated, “Even if Congress passes a new law to keep me alive, I still refuse additional treatment.” No kidding, it’s really, really, really, really come to that.
The Schiavo debacle was, according to House Majority Leader Tom DeLay, a case of a willful judiciary gone amok. Activist judges (those who allow gay marriages or the withdrawal of feeding tubes, not those who park the Ten Commandments affixed to a boulder in the middle of a government rotunda) beware, because DeLay wants you punished; he wants you out. Sen. John Cornyn even argues that judiciary activism has led to recent episodes of courtroom violence, ignoring the patently obvious fact that courtroom violence occurs when deranged people are reluctant to serve prison time for their crimes.
Unfortunately, it’s not just our legislators who wear their threatening, punitive hearts on their sleeves. Catholic priests representing both Christ and the Schindler family accused the presiding judge of Schiavo’s case of being “out to kill Terri from the beginning,” while publicly denouncing Mark Schiavo as a wife-beater, adulterer and murderer. I don’t know when Christian leadership got to be so nakedly hostile, but as Max von Sydow’s character in “Hannah and Her Sisters” observes, “If Jesus came back to Earth and saw what was being done in His name, He’d never stop throwing up.”
If I were Terri’s parents, and I were pleading with my son-in-law to allow Terri’s feeding tube to be reinserted, I wouldn’t do it in front of cameras and reporters. I would request a private meeting, apologize for publicly accusing Mark of spousal abuse and murder, and respectfully ask for his assistance. I would try to approach with humility, not self-righteousness, try to appear resolute, but understanding. I would expect that my own behavior could significantly affect the outcome, while knowing that nothing in life is guaranteed.
If I were one of Terri’s spiritual supporters and wore a priestly collar around my neck, I would preach unity and avoid incendiary accusations. If I were a Terri/Right to Life supporter, I wouldn’t have my children arrested for dramatic effect. If I were a hammer, I’d hammer in the morning, and if I were DeLay, I would refrain from mouthing for the religious right and stepping into a private family matter until my own legal scandals were over.
I am, however, none of the above. I am only one of millions who watched the drama unfold, felt troubled by what I saw and now wonder whether our nation will ever learn how to dialogue respectfully and peacefully about life’s thorniest issues. I hope to God we do, because the last person I need in a time of family crisis is DeLay.
