I know that phrase carries a lot of baggage. For decades, it has been reduced in the American political arena to a single issue: abortion. But as a priest who tries to follow Jesus of Nazareth, when I say I am pro-life, I mean something much bigger, much deeper, and far more demanding.
Being pro-life means that I believe every person’s life is sacred, not because of what they can produce or how perfect they are, but because they are created in the image of God. It means honoring the dignity of each person, from the moment they come into being until their last breath, and sometimes even beyond that as we grieve, remember, and pray for them.
It also means that we do not get to pick and choose whose lives we respect. If we say we are pro-life but ignore the refugee, the prisoner, the elderly, the disabled, the addict, or the unhoused, then we are not really pro-life. We are simply partisan.
A Listening Heart in a Complicated Debate
I do not believe that blanket bans on abortion further the cause of life. There is nothing pro-life about forcing a mother to continue in a dangerous pregnancy when the unborn child has little or sometimes no chance of survival. There is nothing pro-life about implying that the victims of rape are at fault for their circumstances, or about dismissing their stories. And there is certainly nothing pro-life about politicians and charlatan clerics playing head games with women who are already scared and vulnerable.
To be truly pro-life requires that we have a listening heart. It means that we approach these situations not with slogans, but with compassion and humility. Before we start quoting theology at someone, often from a distant or comfortable perch, we must first understand the particular cross they are carrying.
There can be no one-size-fits-all approach to this issue. The only thing I am certain is anti-life is the habit of assuming the worst about the person on the other side of the debate table before we’ve even sought to understand them. Love begins with listening. If we fail at that, we cannot claim to be standing for life.
Pro-Life Is Not a Political Slogan
The tragedy of our time is that something as holy as the reverence for life has been weaponized. We have let political movements turn “pro-life” into a wedge issue rather than a guiding moral compass.
Jesus never told us to choose which neighbors deserve our compassion. He simply told us to love our neighbor as ourselves. That means love for the unborn and for the mother in crisis. It means love for the refugee family at the border, for the Black teenager navigating unjust systems, for the trans kid terrified to walk into school, for the aging prisoner whose life still has worth in the eyes of God.
A consistent pro-life ethic calls us to fight poverty, resist war, care for the environment, defend access to health care, and make sure children have food and education. It is not a slogan. It is a way of living the Gospel.
Where This Conviction Comes From
For me, this conviction isn’t abstract. I’ve sat with mothers trying to decide between paying rent and buying medication for their child. I’ve prayed with families who lost loved ones to gun violence. I’ve walked the streets with outreach workers seeking shelter for people sleeping on church steps.
These moments drive home that the “pro-life” label means nothing unless it translates into a commitment to protect and nurture the lives around us in all their fragility.
A Call to All of Us
To be pro-life is to live with a bias toward mercy. It asks us to look for the face of Christ in the vulnerable, the inconvenient, and even the enemy. It requires sacrifice, of time, comfort, sometimes reputation.
If you, like me, are tired of seeing the phrase “pro-life” used as a political cudgel, I invite you to reclaim it. Let’s remember what it really means to follow the Lord who said, “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly” (John 10:10).
A Pastoral Word
If you’ve felt pushed away from faith by the way these debates have been waged, you are not alone. Many have walked away in grief, anger, or despair. I want you to know: the heart of God is not partisan. The heart of Christ is for you.
Wherever you are on your journey, there is room for you here. Together, we can work for a world that is truly pro-life—where love is not rationed and where no one is disposable.
Call to Action:
If this vision of being pro-life resonates with you, I invite you to subscribe, share this reflection, and join the conversation. The Gospel calls us to build a culture of life that is as wide as God’s mercy.