
It is something of an irony that Sanctity of Human Life Sunday was immediately followed by a holiday commemorating Martin Luther King, Jr. – a champion of the bloody abattoir known as Planned Parenthood.
From King’s acceptance speech for the Margaret Sanger Award:
The Negro constitutes half the poor of the nation. Like all poor, Negro and white, they have many unwanted children. This is a cruel evil they urgently need to control. There is scarcely anything more tragic in human life than a child who is not wanted. That which should be a blessing becomes a curse for parent and child. There is nothing inherent in the Negro mentality which creates this condition. Their poverty causes it. When Negroes have been able to ascend economically, statistics reveal they plan their families with even greater care than whites. Negroes of higher economic and educational status actually have fewer children than white families in the same circumstances.
You can read the entire thing here, if you like, on PP’s website.
“There is scarcely anything more tragic in human life than a child who is not wanted.” You’re right, Dr. King. But shall I tell you something? More tragic even than this is the man who speaks soaringly of justice and equality while casting a benevolent gaze upon the slaughter of innocents.
Like Paul, you held the coats of killers. Did you know it? Is there a Damascus road in your story? Would there have been, had you lived to see their legacy?
You had a dream, Dr. King, one in which your children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.
I have a dream, too. I and millions with me. One in which we will one day live in a nation where tearing children to pieces will be seen for the icy-veined butchery that it is.
“No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.”
Allow me to echo that, Dr. King. Believe me: justice is coming. And when it comes, it will be swift, and it will be mighty, and it will be unsparing. The tiny torn bodies in the trash heaps are crying out – and their Creator is no deaf deity.