Unfairly Blocked on Abortion Legislation, My Heart Breaks

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I don’t think it’s possible for me to process all that I’m feeling about this week’s North Texas Annual Conference in one post, so there will be another coming soon, celebrating all the joy and meaningful moments experienced this week - at conference and beyond. But because of where my heart is now, I must start with this:

For the first (and I hope only) time in my life, I could not participate in Holy Communion yesterday. This sacrament holds unspeakably deep meaning for me in my call as ordained clergy and my lifelong membership in The United Methodist Church. But my heart was far too freshly broken by the church where I hold my membership – The North Texas Annual Conference – and I couldn’t bring myself to forgive quickly enough to receive this sacrament from the same hands that speak of justice and equality while disenfranchising its body and our power to actually be bearers of such justice in a culture that is seeking to strip half our population of our most sacred rights to personhood and bodily autonomy.

My heart breaks for the work several of us put into researching, crafting, conversing, editing, printing, delivering, and organizing support around a piece of legislation that I dared to hope might provide a way for our Methodist Health System to combat the misogynistic forces seeking to control Women’s / trans / non-binary bodies, with (I had hoped) overwhelming support from our Annual Conference, which just renewed its covenant relationship with Methodist Hospitals of Texas. I dared to hope that by simply re-affirming our UMC Social Principle on abortion – an incredibly nuanced and theologically sound statement that understands the complexities of this issue involving “tragic conflicts of life with life that may justify abortion” – and lending our support to our Methodist Hospitals, we might offer doctors and board members support and courage (and possibly a first amendment approach) to oppose Texas laws that infringe upon our constitutional rights to exercise our religious freedom in supporting and ministering to persons who seek or need abortion health care services.

My heart breaks for the EIGHTY-FIVE Clergywomen who signed on as co-sponsors or supporters of the legislation in hopes that our Annual Conference would approve it - and we are certain that number would have been higher if we’d had more time to circulate and accept signatures - but the legislation never even made it to the floor for a vote.

My heart breaks for my clergy sisters who thanked us for bringing this legislation forward while sharing stories of their experiences as chaplains holding the hands of women faced with the most horrific decisions of terminating pregnancies because of medical emergencies; of working in hospitals with doctors who are distraught over what to do about these new laws; of serving in hospitals with ERD’s that require women to go septic before they will perform abortion procedures during a miscarriage; of sisters who shared their own experiences of miscarriages that required abortion services.

My heart breaks for the millions of women / trans / non-binary persons who will continue to be harmed by these laws in TX and other states - and that when our Conference had an opportunity to do *one small thing* to make a change in our corner of the world - our leadership said, “We don’t have time for that.”

My heart breaks for my husband, who is heartbroken for me, when he tried so respectfully and courageously to convince the powers that be that it is indeed worth our time to take up such issues - even just 30 more minutes of our time - who was also silenced along with the EIGHTY-FIVE Clergywomen who were told in that moment our voices, our bodies, our votes, do not matter.

But mostly, my heart breaks for our little girl we will soon be bringing into this world; a world where every time we think we might be making some progress for justice and equality, it feels like we get “Trumped” all over again. I’m heartbroken that she will have to face this reality not only in the culture at large, but also within the Church we serve. I’m heartbroken that she’s entering a world where men still sit on thrones, and conference platforms, and wield their heteropatriarchal power as if it has no consequence in the real world, all while preaching to us about the importance of making change in this world to bring about God’s kingdom. I’m heartbroken that someday she, or I, might just decide we don’t want any part of that kingdom if this is how its representatives lead.

I was so proud to stand with these clergy sisters pictured below as we were all celebrated six years ago on the 60th anniversary of Women’s ordination in the UMC. I am still so proud to stand with them, and all who have come into the fold since, and cannot begin to express my gratitude for their overwhelming support of this legislation at every single turn in the process (along with one amazing church admin who rushed to print and deliver 1,000 copies so we would meet the deadline for legislation to be submitted!).

If organizing has taught me anything, it’s that the most powerful change comes when we turn our heartbreak into action. You, my sisters, give me hope for the future. Keep fighting for a better tomorrow. WE are the change. WE are the ones who will move the Church from platitudes and photo opps to truly acknowledge and value our sacred worth.

God’s KIN-dom hath no fury like a woman (or EIGHTY-FIVE women) scorned. May it be so. Amen.

The Rev. Becky David Hensley, a doctoral candidate, serves as adjunct instructor at United-Methodist-related Iliff School of Theology. She is a former Public Theology Fellow at Faith In Texas. This post is reproduced with permission from her Facebook page. To reproduce this content elsewhere, contact the author via Facebook.