Abortion is the attempt to destroy and to remake human nature in our own image, instead of God’s image. It is based on the right of individual choice and the freedom of self-creation. We see ourselves as the definers of our own truth, our own counterfeit reality, and thus commit idolatry.
The root of sin is to reject the truth. For more than 49 years, our society has colluded in a lie and has chosen to live in the darkness and the bondage of deadly falsehood.
It is outrageous to seek the license to kill the innocent unborn for mere political advantage. It is shameful that with the legalization of abortion, the unborn baby must die for the benefit of gaining and retaining constituents for the temporal purpose of harnessing political power.
Those who actively promote abortion need to be reminded of what our Lord Jesus said: “What profit would there be for one to gain the whole world and forfeit his immortal soul?” (Mt 16:26)
All Catholics, clergy as well as laity, must stand strong and united in this most consequential fight against such deceitful human sacrifice. The intrinsic evil of the wholesale slaughter of the innocent cries out for justice.
Michael Coyle lives in Charlotte.
The obituary about the death of Deacon Bob Desautels (March 25 Catholic News Herald) gave the kind of understated account that the humble deacon would have liked. But it did not come close to capturing the enormous inspiration he was to those who served with him in any of his ministries, and to many of those who just observed him from the pews of St. Leo the Great Church. Sometimes the work of a humble man needs to be set out as a light for all to see, not hidden under a basket (Matthew 5).
The article mentioned that he earned the Purple Heart in Vietnam. It does not explain that he was a disabled Vietnam vet, carrying the effects of his wounds from that war with him for the rest of his life. The most obvious effect of his service and wounds was that he gradually lost more and more of his sight. He could not read normal-sized script without magnifiers that he wore over his glasses, as can be seen in the picture accompanying the article.
The VA supplied him with an oversized laptop for when he needed to read anything beyond a few lines. He used it when he was proclaiming the Gospel at Mass, when preaching (as he did one Sunday a month until the pandemic struck), when leading worship services at the jail, and when leading the Stations of the Cross on Fridays in Lent. To lead the Stations, he also needed a movable platform to move the laptop from station to station; when he could not find anything to suit, he built it himself.
His eyesight eventually deteriorated to the point that he had to give up his driver’s license. When that happened, he purchased a motorized scooter that could move at around 10 miles per hour. He didn’t need a driver’s license for that, and it enabled him to get around to his various ministries and to visit the sick.
The article mentions that he led the jail ministry. He became involved at the Forsyth County Jail in 2002, when he was asked to substitute for two weeks. The person he was supposedly substituting for never returned, and Deacon Bob continued for 18 years, leading a service for Hispanic inmates more than 40 times a year until the pandemic shut it down. The jail calendar listed “Catholic Mass”; in fact, he led a service in Spanish except on the comparatively rare occasions when a priest could be present. He could not speak Spanish, despite spending time in Mexico to try to learn the language. So each week he would listen to a recording of the parts of the service that he would have to read. He also attracted a group of people to join him in the ministry, including some native Spanish speakers. Deacon Bob thought of his role as bringing the Eucharist, Jesus Christ Himself, to the jail.
The article mentions that he served as scoutmaster to his sons’ Boy Scout troop until they all earned the Eagle Scout designation. He continued as the Scouts’ chaplain after that, even though the troop met at a neighboring parish, well beyond walking distance, until the pandemic. He couldn’t drive, but there were usually volunteers to drive him. When no one else volunteered, his wife Peggy drove him. She, like the wife of every deacon, was his partner in service.
He never gave up. As Father Brian Cook, his pastor for 14 years, said during his eulogy at the funeral Mass, many people faced with his various ailments would have curled up on the couch. With the aid of the VA, he even worked to improve his eyesight, and shortly before the pandemic, he regained sufficient use of his sight to get his driver’s license back, although he was restricted to daytime use. He did not use the highway, only streets where he could drive slowly and safely,
Besides all this, he participated in the “normal” life of the parish. He regularly led the Benediction that was celebrated at the end of Wednesday Eucharistic Adoration, which fortunately never shut down during the pandemic. He led a group that met each week, sometimes by Zoom, to reflect on the next Sunday’s Gospel. Finally, he served as the presiding deacon over monthly Ultreyas involving some 30 cursillistas.
His life of service should be an inspiration to anyone suffering from disabilities. To some people, a disability is a reason (or excuse) to stop contributing to society, tending only to their own situation. Deacon Bob took the opposite view. He figured out what he could do and how he could contribute, and then he did it in every way possible.
Above all, Deacon Bob cared for people. He was something of a magnet, drawing people to the ministries and programs he served. Parishioners loved Deacon Bob. His care for people also exhibited itself when he distributed Holy Communion. When people approached, with arms crossed because they did not wish to receive that day, he took his time blessing them. It slowed down the Communion line, but when Deacon Bob blessed you – whether you were a child not yet able to receive Communion, an adult not receiving that day, or an inmate in the jail – you knew you had been blessed.
His many contributions to several parishes over nearly 40 years as a deacon is a powerful example of what one deacon can mean to the life of the Church. That’s something any man discerning the permanent diaconate might want to consider.
Sometimes we should proclaim what a humble man did – not to praise him, but so that his work can serve as an example for others. This, I suggest, is one of those times.
William Irwin is a member of St. Leo the Great Parish in Winston-Salem.