Abstract
This article offers a critical theo-ethical reflection on abortion from a reproductive justice (RJ) perspective. Focusing on the socio-political structure that shapes abortion discourses and legislation and affects women’s agency over their reproductive ability, I complicate the ways of thinking about abortion. The abortion debate reveals what we, as the church, value, how we embody God’s love and justice, and how we should live. In search of the answers to these questions, the article engages in women of color’s theory and activism for RJ through the theological, the political, and the sexual. Finally, the article suggests that the Episcopal/Anglican church reconsider abortion as a social justice issue and meditate on its commitment to God’s justice in light of RJ.
Keywords
While writing this article, I have experienced “cognitive dissonance.” In early October, when the Israeli Defense Forces invaded Gaza in response to Hamas’s attacks on Israeli civilians, soldiers, and Asian migrant workers, Ohioans were divided over Issue No. 1, which would be up for vote on November 7, 2023. The ballot language of Issue 1 included “a self-executing amendment relating to abortion and other reproductive decisions.” 1 The Ohio State Government presented Issue 1 as legal protection of comprehensive reproductive rights, more precisely, an individual woman’s rights to receive any reproductive medical treatment, including contraception, fertility treatment, and abortion at any stage of pregnancy. My suburban neighborhood outside Columbus, Ohio, displayed two polarized yard signs: “Yes to Issue 1” and “No, Issue 1, Protect Children!” As November 7 approached, the driveway of my neighborhood Catholic Church was decorated with signposts which read “Choose Life!” The Republican opponents of Issue 1 argued that foreign powers financially supported Issue 1 in order to disrupt American moral emphasis on life. 2
In the meantime, the news media counted the dead bodies of Palestinians in Gaza, mostly women and children. As of November 3, 2023, women and children represented 67 percent of all casualties. 3 The dire situation in Gaza indeed threatens the lives of pregnant women, who lack access to proper maternal care, food, or water, let alone the lives of newborns and infants. Pregnant women in Gaza deliver their babies while other family members die. Even if they are lucky enough to be admitted to the hospital, they cannot expect anesthesia during C-sections, doctors who can treat them for pregnancy-related complications, or other necessary medications. 4 I wonder whether they can produce enough milk to feed their newborns or find baby formula to save their little ones.
The war stories from Gaza remind me of Jesus’s words in the Gospel of Matthew concerning the signs of the end of the age (Matt. 24). Jesus told his disciples about the signs of the end of the world filled with wars, famines, earthquakes, and false prophets. He adds a warning: “Woe to those who are pregnant and to those who are nursing infants in those days! (Matt. 24:19, NRSV)” Jesus’s words seem to be realized in Gaza. Indeed, his words describe what has happened to pregnant women and infants repeatedly during wartime. Nevertheless, sitting in a suburban house in Ohio, I could not stop thinking about Jesus’s words and Gaza. How can I reconcile what is happening there with what is happening in Ohio?
Abortion discourse or simply moral reflection on abortion through the languages of reproductive freedom, right, and choice is a luxury. An abortion debate might be possible only in so-called peacetime, as abortion and pregnancy can be among the least-discussed topics in a war zone like Gaza, where human lives become thingified. Abortion might be a forced option for some women who do not have access to safe maternal care while the future of their children is precarious. Consider the many enslaved women who committed infanticide out of despair or as resistance to the inhumane chattel slavery system. In this case, we cannot discuss the morality of abortion but only the immorality of the slavery system. Abortion cannot be discussed without reference to the situation and justice of the society that surrounds it.
Hence, despite my cognitive dissonance, I attempt to reconstruct a theological, political, and sexual discourse on abortion through a reproductive justice (RJ) frame. Focusing on the socio-political structure that shapes abortion discourses and legislation and affects women’s agency over their reproductive ability, my article complicates the ways of thinking about abortion. If the Episcopal/Anglican Church genuinely cares about God’s creation, we, as the church, should move beyond a binary thinking of right and wrong. Abortion is not a question of right or wrong. Neither is it about life (saving children) or death (killing children). Instead, the abortion debate challenges us to reflect on what we value, how we embody God’s love and justice, and how we should live. In search of the answers to these questions, my article revolves around women of color’s theory and activism for RJ through the theological, the political, and the sexual.
Abortion and justice in our society
Christian ethicist Marvin Ellison bluntly states, “Pregnancy happens. So does abortion.” 5 Not only pregnancy and abortion but also miscarriage, stillbirth, maternal death, sudden infant death syndrome, and surrogacy happen. Pregnancy is complicated. So is abortion. While abortion is entangled with various complications of women’s reproductive activities, the church and society often single out abortion as if it were detached from all other reproductive issues, including childrearing. Why? One reason is that the narrow frame of pro-life and pro-choice often governs the church’s moral imagination of reproduction. In addition, a small group of conservative Christians’ anti-abortion voices dominate the political discourse on abortion. As a result, people, including both Christians and non-Christians, conventionally think of Christianity as an anti-abortion tradition.
Abortion has been a challenging issue for the Episcopal Church. To engage the challenging issue with care and love, we should choose our moral guideposts with caution. For this article, I focus on the RJ frame as a moral guidepost to interrogate the social and moral complexities of abortion and related reproductive issues. Although justice is one of the most critical values elaborated by the church, its meanings vary. One group’s justice can mean injustice for another, especially if political and economic power is unequally distributed among social groups. The RJ framework, created by black women in 1994, some of whom cofounded the grassroots organization SisterSong in 1997, accentuates “reproductive freedom” for all. 6 The product of black women and other women of color’s theorizing and practicing justice, this framework applies the insights learned from black feminist critical analysis of racial, economic, and social inequality to U.S. reproductive politics that have often dehumanized women of color. The experiences of women of color, bound with their respective communities rather than those of middle-class white women, become the center of theorizing and organizing for reproductive freedom.
The RJ frame accentuates abortion as a social justice issue that challenges us to focus on social relations when theo-ethically contemplating abortion. Instead of delimiting the church’s moral imagination only to individual characters and virtues, we should interrogate complex and multifaceted reproductive politics, including pregnancy, abortion, prenatal and postpartum care, childrearing, sexuality, sex education, and more. A renewed moral imagination requires us to overcome the false dichotomy between sexual freedom (i.e., abortion) and religious freedom (i.e., anti-abortion) as if the two were antithetical to each other, regulating both freedoms. As religious ethicist Janet Jakobsen stresses, for justice-based sexual ethics, in this case, abortion, the church needs to shift its moral arguments over sexuality and reproduction to the creation of just social relations. 7 Just social relations can deepen our relationships with God, neighbors, and non-human living beings, enhancing religious and sexual freedom in the church community and beyond.
RJ: abortion-talk is not just about abortion
As Latin American theologian Marcella Althaus-Reid reminds us, all theology has political and sexual elements. 8 Any abortion discourse is political, sexual, and theological—all three elements are intricately intertwined. Moreover, Althaus-Reid’s analytical argument necessitates overcoming the false dichotomy between the secular and the sacred to create a theologically and spiritually liberating imagination of reproductive freedom. Hence, the RJ frame involves political, sexual, and theological elements.
Christian Ethicist Toni Bond, one of the founders of the RJ movement, narrates its beginnings as a political movement in critical response to the Clinton administration’s proposed Health Security Act of 1993. Calling themselves Women of African Descent for Reproductive Justice (WADRJ), Bond and other African American women organized a course of actions that would “put federal legislators on notice about the unique reproductive and sexual health concerns.” 9 WADRJ’s action, on the one hand, expressed black women’s deep frustration with mainstream white feminists who continued prioritizing abortion as the primary reproductive health issue facing all women. 10 It addressed the injustices of the health care system that often denied women of color complete services “due to compounded issues of race, class, and gender.” 11 Hence, besides the call for comprehensive reproductive health care, WADRJ demanded that any health care plan must (1) include universal coverage and access to health services, (2) be comprehensive, and (3) provide protection from discriminatory practices that deny health care on the basis of race, class, gender, or sexual orientation. 12 WADRJ’s political activism emphasized women of color’s right to life. This right requires affordable health care for all, and reproductive health care in particular.
WARDJ evolved into an Atlanta-based grassroots organization, SisterSong. Since its foundation, SisterSong has centered on the experiences of Black, Indigenous, Latina, and Asian American women, reflecting on and acting for RJ. According to Bond, RJ revolves around four key pillars: (1) the right to have a child, (2) the right not to have a child, (3) the right to parent the child(ren) one already has, and (4) the right to sexual pleasure. 13 These pillars accentuate that abortion cannot be singled out from women’s continuous experiences of pregnancy, childrearing, and sexual freedom. All these pillars are interconnected and considered in women of color’s lived experiences.
On a surface level, the RJ frame is about the political and the sexual. However, the profound theological meanings of life can also be found in the frame. Just as any theological reflection leads us to contemplate the meanings of life created and sustained by God, the RJ frame ultimately suggests how to make all human lives flourish. The four pillars lead us to critically interrogate the history of state control over natality that has often hindered women of color, impoverished women and their families and children, and kept them from living their fullness. What follows is a theological, political, and sexual reflection on the four key pillars of RJ. Appreciating RJ activists such as Toni Bond’s working definition of each pillar, I expand the political, sexual, and theological meanings of each pillar as a moral guidepost for abortion.
Theo-ethical reflection on the four pillars of RJ
The right to have a child (children)
The right to have a child is grounded in universal human rights. Both the World Health Organization and the Center for Reproductive Freedom unequivocally state, “All individuals have reproductive rights, which are grounded in a constellation of fundamental human rights guarantees.” 14 These rights include the right to choose whether to have or not have children, to freely decide the number, spacing, and timing of children, and to get information, education, and support to make these decisions. These decisions must be based on the best information available. 15 On a surface level, the right to have a child (children) seems coupled with the right not to have a child (children). Both rights are neither mutually exclusive nor mutually inclusive. Nonetheless, each right is examined in women of color’s distinctive historical contexts and political concerns about body sovereignty, (re)claiming of moral agency, and access to reproductive technology. The faith community contemplates reproductive rights as human rights in light of their interpretation of biblical texts. Yet, as the Bible delivers a cacophony of stories of pregnancy and childbirth, how or whether the Christian Bible can be a theo-ethical source for women’s right to have a child requires justice-oriented scrutiny.
The Bible delivers the various stories of women who pled to God to give them children. Biblical women such as Sarah, the wife of Abraham and the mother of Isaac (Genesis 21), Hannah, the mother of Samuel (1 Samuel 1:1–20), and Elizabeth, the mother of John the Baptist (Luke 1:5–25), had anxiously waited for YHWH to hear their prayers and to grant them “sons.” When they were finally pregnant and gave birth to healthy male children, these women were believed to have proven their faith. Their children—Isaac, Samuel, and John the Baptist—were symbols of God’s blessings that recognized and protected their mothers’ respectable status in a patriarchal religious society. These stories depict pregnancy and childbirth as God’s blessings rather than human rights. Pregnancy and the safe delivery of a child are also attributed to God’s will, if not a divine mystery. For instance, when Rachel, one of Jacob’s wives, demanded that Jacob give her children, he became angry with her and said that it was God who kept her from having children (Genesis 30:1-2).
The Bible also records state-sanctioned violence against newborns and infants. For instance, the Book of Exodus begins with the story of the Pharaoh’s order given to midwives to kill all Hebrew baby boys (Exodus 1:1–22). Similarly, the Gospel of Matthew narrates King Herod’s “killing of innocents” as part of the nativity story of Jesus. Out of fear of Jesus, Herod ordered his soldiers to kill infants under two years old (Matthew 2:13–18). Both cases illustrate that state power decides who should be killed and who can have the right to have children. In the Exodus story, the state manifests its power by killing Hebrew boys because of their ethnic identity and presumed revolt in the future. Similarly, the Matthean story shows the state’s necropolitical power deployed out of fear of a presumed threat to the existing political order. Thus, from a biblical perspective, having a child (children) is not simply about individual choices or rights. Instead, pregnancy and childbirth are intertwined with God’s blessing and curse, as well as state-sanctioned violence against politically vulnerable populations.
U.S. women of color’s organized RJ movement brings critical awareness of the state’s disrespect, if not denial, of their right to have a child (children). RJ activists and scholars share their intergenerational memories of the abusive sterilization of African American and Native American women. For instance, Loretta Ross, RJ activist and scholar, fought against sterilization abuse in the 1970s after she had been sterilized when she was only twenty-three years old. 16 According to Ross, in the realm of reproductive politics driven by white supremacy, black women’s bodies are viewed as allegedly hyperfertile, wantonly immoral, and primitively animal. Hence, political conservatives, including Christian conservatives, still accuse black people in general and women in particular of moral incompetence and failed parenthood (motherhood). 17
U.S. reproductive politics is still haunted by eugenics, the pseudo-scientific argument of white superiority over other races, which also attracted many Christians at the turn of the twentieth century. Centuries-old prejudices against the black body, linking it with the images of animality, hyperfertility, and high sex drive, have their historical materialist roots in the trans-Atlantic slave trade and the chattel slavery system in the United States. In the early twentieth century, the spread of contraceptives to American women partly appealed to eugenicists as a way of possibly curtailing the birthrates of the “unfit,” including Blacks. 18 For decades, U.S. government-sponsored family planning programs encouraged black women to use birth control and often coerced them into sterilization, practices which peaked in the 1970s. As a result, even in black communities, birth control and abortion have been viewed both as racial inequity (i.e., racial genocide) and as women’s rights to reproduction. 19 Black feminist legal scholar Dorothy Roberts accentuates the point that, “We must acknowledge the justice of ensuring equal access to birth control for poor and minority women without denying the injustice of imposing birth control as a means of reducing their fertility.” 20 Roberts’s emphasis shows that the right to have a child and the right not to have a child are the two sides of the same coin, which should be carefully analyzed through the intersectionality of race, gender, sexuality, and class.
The right not to have a child
This principle ensures “person-controlled, barrier methods of contraception and the ability to access those methods free of force or coercion (emphasis added by the author).” 21 Society must provide education about affordable and safe access to contraceptives, birth control methods, and abortion for all people. To be clear, women’s health and wellness often depend on these means. At the same time, we should name and analyze various impediments to exercising the right—social, cultural, religious, legal, economic, and political impediments. Can we also faithfully argue for a Christian theology that can support the second principle of RJ and, thus, expand religious freedom and expression?
The second principle is entangled with the issues of social norms, cultural expectations, and identity, represented by “motherhood.” Developing a progressive Christian proposal for surrogacy, Christian ethicist Grace Kao argues that surrogacy as a practice can be seen as a threat to public confidence in the naturalness of motherhood and the universality of the maternal instinct. 22 Kao’s insightful analysis applies to anti-abortion sentiment in the church and society. Since patriarchal society has praised motherhood as an essential character of femininity, it is simply impossible for some people to imagine that “mothers” are willing to relinquish what they made—their own children. They cannot accept the fragility of the mother–child bond. However, a woman is not a natural-born mother simply because she has reproductive organs and the capacity for impregnation. Instead, a discerning process is required of a person to be a mother (parent), regardless of whether she already has a child or is looking for reproductive assistance (i.e., surrogacy). Pregnancy and childbirth do not make a woman automatically a mother, either.
Thanks to advanced reproductive technology and adoption laws, a person can have multiple mothers—some not legally recognized as the person’s mother or involved in the person’s life at all. By the same token, a person can discern their motherhood through various means. Our society sees an increase in diverse family models beyond a blood-based heterosexual nuclear family unit. In this changing social context, women terminate their pregnancies after a discernment process. Some women relinquish their children for adoption as a way of exercising the second RJ principle. Despite women’s varied practices and understandings of motherhood, abortion practice and discourse have not been free from idealized motherhood images both in the church and society.
Along with the purported naturalness of motherhood, theological debates over ensoulment and fetal personhood complicate Christian approaches to abortion. Without critical study of sacred texts, many people assume that Christianity has recognized the moment of conception as the beginning of human life. Fetal personhood, however, can be morally ambiguous and theologically dangerous. Unlike “people” whose bodies are recognized in society and who participate in social life, embryonic and fetal personhood are abstract and dependent on theological “probability.” Feminist theologian Margaret Kamitsuka explains “a probabilist approach” found in pro-life writings, Roman Catholic encyclicals, and other magisterial documents: [A]n embryo should be accorded the full rights and dignity that any human person has, based on the probability that the embryo already is an ensouled person. “Probabilism” is a technical term referring to a mode of Catholic moral reasoning where an ethical stance is defended based on a probable state of affairs . . . [T]he theological pressure was on . . . to find ways to argue assertively for personhood from conception rather than remaining agnostic about the status of an unformed human being.
23
A probability approach raises moral, social, and legal problems. Morally speaking, any decision, particularly social policy, made on a probability cannot expect responsibility and accountability from those only with probable status as humans. In the case of abortion, not a fetus, who is probably human, but a pregnant woman is subject to punishment for their moral and legal (ir)responsibility. Probabilism, combined with patriarchy and misogyny, suppresses women’s moral agency. As Protestant feminist ethicist Rebecca Todd Peters argues, U.S. anti-abortion social policy is not so much about protecting fetal life as it is about regulating women’s moral agency. A patriarchal and misogynistic society cannot trust women’s capability to make morally sound decisions for themselves, their families, and society. 24 Women cannot be trusted because they are too emotional and sexual.
Black RJ scholars and activists add racial analysis to a white heterosexual patriarchal society’s mistrust of women’s moral capability. Namely, black women have not been trusted in the realm of reproductive politics. Let us consider an anti-abortion group’s 2010 billboards across African American communities in Atlanta, which said, “Black Children Are an Endangered Species.” From Loretta Ross’s perspective, this massive advertising campaign was a new assault on African American women’s reproductive freedom, an assault motivated by anti-black misogyny marked by the hypersexualization of black women and false racial compassion for black fetal life. 25 Ross rightly points out the racialization of political efforts to restrict women’s practices of abortion.
Similarly, Roberts describes how the probabilism embedded in U.S. laws has targeted black and other women of color. For instance, in 2001, South Carolina prosecuted Regina McKnight, a twenty-one-year-old African American woman, for “homicide by child abuse,” claiming that her drug use caused her baby’s stillbirth. McKnight served eight years out of her twelve-year sentence until the South Carolina Supreme Court overturned her conviction based on her lawyer’s failure to bring an expert who could refute the state’s outdated evidence against her. 26 A similar case in Indiana in 2015 shocked the Asian American community. Purvi Patel, an Indian American woman, was convicted of feticide and child neglect because her miscarriage was interpreted as an attempted abortion. The hospital staff, who had treated heavily bleeding Patel, interpreted her lack of emotional reactions to the loss of her “unborn child” as evidence of self-induced abortion. 27 Without interrogating the medical staff’s racial prejudice against Patel, the court punished her for neglecting the life of her fetus, a “probable” human. The following year, the Indiana Court of Appeals overturned her conviction for feticide as a misinterpretation of the criminal law. However, her child neglect conviction remained. 28 Asian American feminist scholar Priya Kandaswamy views the Patel case as another example of the Republican Party’s outrageous war against women’s bodies, particularly immigrant women of color. 29 Between 1973 and 2017, more than seven hundred women, primarily women of color, had been arrested, detained, or forced to endure unwanted medical interventions because of pregnancy-related accusations. 30 All these examples suggest that our society still sees fetuses as newborns. Women who cannot prove their willingness to protect fetuses in their pregnant wombs can be punished legally, morally, and theologically. Women of color’s will is more suspected than their white female counterparts. Moral ambiguity caused by probabilism harms women more than men and victimizes women of color more.
Theologically speaking, if human life is believed to begin at the very moment of conception, how can we grasp the theological complexities of miscarriage, stillbirth, and infertility, as well as the suffering and pain of women who mourn the loss of their fetuses? Even women who abort their fetuses need time to grieve! A probalist approach neglects women’s mourning and grief over their losses, if not punishes them. Just as Christians are not a monolithic group, their understandings of the beginning of life or personhood are diverse. A probalist approach should be treated as one of many understandings rather than a morally and theologically authoritative position.
I tentatively argue that the value of a fetal life often depends on its related parties’ hope for the fetus to become a fully recognizable member of society. In addition, fetal life is cherished and valued when it brings profound meanings of life to its related persons—parents, grandparents, a church community, and society. A fetus is not yet a person. Personhood is developed, recognized, and respected primarily when the person meaningfully participates in family life and various communities, including the church, society, and more. If a society prohibits a woman from making the thoughtful decision to seek abortion, the society undervalues her personhood rather than denies the personhood of a fetus. As Christians, we cannot reach an agreement on the beginning of human life or the personhood of the fetus. Nonetheless, we must probe theological complexities concerning what makes a person human and what constitutes personhood. This critical theological reflection also challenges us to ponder why many (conservative) Christians condone habitual killings of non-human environmental beings and wartime killings while defining abortion as a killing of “life.”
Fetal value and personhood should not govern our theo-ethical approaches to abortion. Even if a fetus is considered probably human, “probability” is not a robust moral ground to examine abortion. Here, I leave the personhood and the innate value of a fetus as ambiguous as possible because any theological and philosophical reflection on these matters cannot offer any sufficient answers. Instead, the RJ frame forces us to focus on the bodily experiences of women in general and women of color in particular when we, the church, theo-ethically approach abortion. Hence, the church needs to probe women’s experiences of abortion on a material level, seeing that abortion can be a result of their spiritual and theological discernment or women’s wisdom to build “a decent future for themselves and their families.” 31
Furthermore, a woman’s choice of abortion does not necessarily mean her/their denial of the fetal value. As Kamitsuka points out, many women acknowledge that they aborted their “babies.” 32 The church needs to see how abortion can be one of many faithful ways of expressing a woman’s will not to have a child. 33 In addition, women seek out abortion for many, often complicated reasons. These reasons beg the church to compassionately listen to the women who abort rather than condemn them. The church can further reshape an abortion discourse within “a larger Christian theology of death,” which Kamitsuka proposes. 34 The RJ frame allows us to contemplate various forms of parental discernment and the meanings of personhood, guided by informed theology and spiritual practices. The frame further accentuates that an abortion discourse should be guided by justice, not by the probable personhood of a fetus.
The right to parent the child(ren) one already has
According to Bond, The right to parent the child(ren) one already has encompasses providing families with the social and economic support they need so that families can do more than survive but thrive. This includes receiving living wages, access to clean water, healthy food, and affordable housing. It also includes living in areas that are free from environmental toxins.
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The third principle of RJ requires a broader concept and practice of social justice. We all know that raising children demands a concerted effort from their families, social institutions (e.g., faith communities and schools), and governments on various levels. Basic economic necessities for healthy food, clean water, health care, safe shelters, and decent education are prerequisites for the strong moral character growth of children if they are to be responsible members of their various communities who can collaborate with others, respect others’ differences, and consciously avoid harming others. Unfortunately, the social reality in our country is far different from what we can imagine as the ideal environment for children.
For example, historically marginalized populations, women and people of color, have been impacted by low wages. According to one statistic, 58.7 percent of minimum wage workers in the United States are women, 21.8 percent are Hispanic, 12.2 percent are black, and 14.4 percent are multiracial or Native. Over a third of the total workforce, or fifty-two million Americans, makes less than $15 per hour, which puts them below the poverty line in many states. To support a basic standard of living without food and housing insecurity, a single person without children would need between $20 and $26 per hour, depending on the state. 36 What would all of these numbers mean in the context of reproductive politics? Simply speaking, many Americans struggle to provide healthy food, appropriate clothing, safe housing, educational materials, and entertainment for their children.
Many people do not think about reproduction and childrearing in relation to “money” or the economic system. Christians, in particular, feel uncomfortable seeing their relationship with children through the monetary lens. As Economist Nancy Folbre argues, while people usually see economics as a sector motivated by self-interest, parenting is considered as the pursuit of (self-sacrificial) love rather than money. 37 However, Folbre accentuates that love is as powerful as self-interest, motivating people to invest in their children for happiness and future happiness to come. 38 Although children are not born with a price tag, they impose very real costs on their caregivers, raising questions about who should pay for them—whose children, how much, and for how long. 39 These questions create further disagreements on public policy for children’s well-being and welfare due to the unclear distinction between parental and socially shared responsibilities. Measuring the material necessities for children based primarily on food expenditures, for example, is outdated, as economically struggling families spend much more on rent, health care, and transportation than food. 40 Contrary to what many people assume, childrearing costs a lot. One study shows that private expenditures on children are more significant for children under five years old and in their early twenties than for other age groups because of the high childcare cost for under-school-aged children and the high price tag of college education. 41
Caring work is generally undervalued in our capitalist society when considered a nonmarket activity. For this reason (and many others), “the current cash and tax assistance programs for low-income parents consider care work to be ‘work’ only when it is conducted for pay.” 42 Temporary Assistance to Needy Families (TANF) and the Earned Income Tax Credit (EITC) subsidize childcare only if children are cared for by outsiders and primary caregivers who work outside the home. While many parents and caregivers (primarily women and mothers) devote long hours and money to their children, their care work does not have market value. 43 Care work is considered income-producing only when caregivers care for non-kin children and elderly people. Parents and caregivers with young children, mostly women, are forced to choose between spending devoted time with their children and working outside for income and governmental subsidies. It is becoming harder and harder for many parents to have both. In addition, children’s intellectual, emotional, and psychological development relies on the parents’ and caregivers’ characters and love. Owing to the emotional labor involved in care work, especially for childcare, Protestant theologian W. Anne Joh analogizes a care worker’s bruised heart to that of Jesus, who gave his body to the politically and economically vulnerable out of his love. 44 Childcare creates bruised hearts in many different people. Working mothers’ hearts are bruised as they leave their children in others’ hands while pursuing their careers. Yet, many middle-class professional women struggle to pay for full-time care for their children. Migrant domestic workers’ hearts are bruised. They earn money by taking care of their non-kin children in the United States while leaving their own at home far away.
Producing another child to the world can be burdensome for many women who economically struggle to survive, have multiple dependents, pursue professional careers, and feel emotionally exhausted from caring work. For these women, abortion and active use of contraceptives manifest their will to raise their existing children well. We should recognize diverse women’s various desires and life plans instead of lumping them together as natural-born mothers. To be clear, poverty is not the only obstacle to the third principle of RJ—violent racism, anti-immigrant hate, gun violence, and ecological deterioration also undermine the safety net for children and their families. Childrearing is one of the most challenging jobs even without all these possible dangers for children. Newborns and infants are vulnerable beings whose survival solely depends on their caregivers’ care and generosity. In a society where care work falls mainly on women’s shoulders, childrearing is considered an individual family’s responsibility, child poverty is growing, or child penalties exist, women may opt out of mothering multiple children. 45
The right to sexual pleasure
Theologically robust sexual ethics that value sexual pleasure as God’s gift are necessary if we are to appreciate our reproductive power and responsibility as well as the sexual capacity to express intimate love. The fourth principle highlights sex and body positivity and body sovereignty as grounds for comprehending the mystery and power of reproduction.
Preventing sexual corruption is one reason that Christian anti-abortionists often give to justify their political and moral standpoint. They worry that if abortion is legalized and practiced without any regulations, irresponsible sex, especially between morally immature teens, will become rampant. Although there has been no social scientific evidence proving the correlation between abortion law and “irresponsible” sex, these politically conservative Christians’ argument stems from their centuries-long fear of and negative sentiment toward sexuality. The fear and negative sentiment generate a hierarchical body–spirit and a male-female dualism, which strengthens the patriarchal social order. 46 The body-spirit duality in Christianity engenders hierarchical sexual ethics. Celibacy manifested in the monastic order is perceived as ideal. Heterosexual relations in monogamous marriage are proposed as the second-best option. Whereas sex outside marriage is condemned, the ideal sex is only for the purpose of reproduction in the heterosexual monogamous relationship. Most Christians, including Episcopalians, might see these sexual ethics as obsolete. However, it is difficult to challenge and reform these body-spirit duality-based sexual ethics because sex is considered an inappropriate topic to discuss in the church. Nonetheless, we need sex and body-positive sexual ethics for a just society for at least two reasons.
First, sex is generally used for pleasure and intimacy rather than procreation, even among married couples. Among U.S. women, 99 percent use some form of contraception in their lifetimes, which demonstrates most people’s rejection of the traditional Christian position on sex. 47 In developed countries like the United States, pregnancy and childrearing have become more limited, intentional, and planned due to the cost of childrearing and women’s active participation in the workforce. In this context, people use sex for pleasure and to express intimate love; procreation is a different issue, often unrelated to sex.
Second, negative sentiments toward the body and sex epitomize a purity culture that approves of sex only within institutional monogamous heterosexual marriage. According to religious studies scholar Sara Moslener, purity culture has constantly drawn “ideological connections between sexual immorality and national security.” 48 For purity advocates, sexual immorality is a cause not only of the moral and political decline of the United States as a global hegemon but also of the eschaton. Furthermore, purity culture has always been racial as well as sexual, as it profoundly concerns both sexual purity and racial purity. Since the early twentieth century, the purity movement has upheld anti-gay and anti-communist rhetoric, idealizing “the white middle-class, heterosexual, nuclear, Christian family as the foundation of American national strength.” 49
In this context, socially distorted images of women of color’s sexuality undermine their sexual morality, reproductive freedom, and their motherhood. Black mothers are stereotyped as Welfare Queens who produce multiple children with different men and live off social welfare. Asian mothers are called tiger mothers, who strictly discipline their children. Native American women’s bodies are treated as dirty and, thus, rapable by European settler colonialists. As a result, sexual violence against women of color is often condoned as a cultural practice. Yet, these women’s reproductive activities and childrearing are scrutinized by society and even penalized, as we have seen in the cases of Purvi Patel and Regina McKnight. Ironically, purity advocates often fail to recognize gender-based sexual violence and intimate partner violence inside the church and society from a victim-centered perspective. In particular, they cannot comprehend sexual violence against women and children inside their faith communities while vehemently opposing prostitution, sex trafficking, sexual abuse, and more, which are believed to happen outside their faith communities.
By affirming sexual pleasure, the fourth principle of RJ respects human sexuality given by God. Our responsible use of sexual power without harming others is the critical step for RJ. As we appreciate our bodies and sexuality, we can use it to express ourselves and affection toward our significant others. Here, the notion of body sovereignty is crucial because it highlights the body as foundational for human existence, thus emphasizing violence against the body as an existential threat. 50 If body sovereignty is recognized in our society and church, then women’s discernment for abortion should be honored with no attached moral judgment. Hence, abortion is not a result of women’s promiscuity but, in some cases, a last resort for the violated and broken body of which sovereignty has been usurped. In addition, abortion should not be used as a moral yardstick to judge and chastise women who choose to end their pregnancies. As argued earlier, socioeconomic circumstances and family plans are the primary reasons why many married and unmarried women choose abortion.
Abortion, RJ, and the Episcopal Church
So far, I have analyzed abortion through the four principles of RJ, arguing that abortion is part of gendered and racialized reproductive politics encompassing pregnancy, childrearing, parental discernment, and more. Bringing this essay to a close, I want to make three suggestions concerning how the Episcopal Church can consciously promote RJ.
First, the Episcopal Church should comprehend how RJ aligns with its commitment to justice. On a surface level, RJ seems far away from the church’s traditional understanding of social justice, such as the just treatment of workers, feeding the poor, and anti-oppression. 51 The church’s collective prayers do not directly address reproduction, gender, sexuality, or race. However, a more profound theological reflection on RJ reveals that RJ is relevant to the church’s justice concerns, if not foundational for the church’s prayers for justice.
The church’s understanding of justice begins with its affirmation of the imago Dei, which is found in all human beings and expanded to all God’s creation. For instance, the prayer for social justice begins with “Almighty God, who created us in your own image.” 52 The prayer continues, “Grant us grace fearlessly to contend against evil and to make no peace with oppression; and, that we may reverently use our freedom, help us to employ it in the maintenance of justice in our communities and among nations.” 53 By bringing RJ to this prayer, we can deepen our prayer. Re-emphasis on the body of women and their personhood in light of the imago Dei may affirm their reproductive power and freedom along with the church’s commitment to gender justice. We can also take the body, which presents personhood, as the site of encountering the Sacred.
Moreover, “no peace with oppression” aligns with the major principles of RJ. The RJ frame makes it clear that gender, race, and class oppression has constrained many people’s (mostly women’s) freedom and rights to have the child(ren), not to have the child(ren), and to raise the child(ren) they already have well. Notably, the third principle of RJ shares the same pleas and visions with the prayer for social justice. To raise our children, not only our biological children but also all children on earth, we need just social relations on communal, social, national, and international levels. The church’s collective prayers, such as prayers for marriage, baptism, the birth of a child, social service, and social justice, express the church’s desire to embody God’s justice on earth. Hence, the Episcopal Church should imagine RJ in our prayers so that we can more actively work to protect women and children from poverty, violence, war, and racial discrimination.
Second, the Episcopal Church should reframe abortion as a justice issue, more precisely, an RJ issue. Instead of approaching abortion through an individual morality frame, it should be understood as a justice issue related to the rights and health issues of women, children, and families. Indeed, men, transgender people, and gender minorities are all included in the RJ issues, as they discern parenthood and participate in creating a society for children to grow in a safe environment. The church needs to focus on how to create a just social order rather than debating what we, humans, cannot fully comprehend, such as embryonic and fetal personhood.
According to the Pew Research Center’s 2023 survey, 79 percent of Episcopalians support the legalization of abortion in all or most cases, while 18 percent of them believe abortion should be illegal in most cases. 54 This report shows a critical piece of the faith community’s understanding of abortion. Many Episcopalians do not see abortion as sinful or anti-Christian. If the Pew Research Center conducts a survey regarding RJ instead of singling out abortion, perhaps all the Episcopalians will unequivocally support RJ.
However, the Episcopal Church’s official stance detaches abortion from its support for equitable access to women’s reproductive health care: The Convention declared that equitable access to women’s health care, including women’s reproductive health care, is an integral part of a woman’s struggle to assert her dignity and worth as a human being.’ We continue to advocate that legislating abortions will not address the root of the problem. We, therefore, express our deep conviction that any proposed legislation on the part of national or state governments regarding abortions must take special care to see that the individual conscience is respected and that the responsibility of individuals to reach informed decisions in this matter is acknowledged and honored as the position of this Church.
55
It is unclear, however, what the Episcopal Church means by “legislating abortions will not address the root of the problem”; precisely, what problem is the church tackling? Can this problem highlight various forms of injustice that weaken RJ and social justice? Unfortunately, the Resolutions on Abortion and Women’s Reproductive Health mix up various issues traditionally viewed as related to reproduction—family planning, reproductive technology, the birth of a child, pregnancy, and more—without considering any coherent principles such as justice. The only governing principle the resolutions allude to is the sacrality of life, which hints at probabilism. That is why abortion is treated apart from women’s health issues or the church’s affirmation of life’s sacrality. Instead of examining different social problems under the church’s affirmation of the sacredness of life, we need a new lens to reconsider these issues holistically: RJ.
Third, the Episcopal Church should develop sexual ethics that overcome the hierarchical body–spirit duality and values human sexuality as a tool for expressing our personhood, love for others, and desire to please God. For these ethics, we should critically reflect on the church’s historical marriage between European (British) imperialism and Victorian sexual morality that demoralizes non-Christian and (formerly) colonized people’s sexuality and sexual activities while only valuing heterosexual, monogamous, and nuclear family relations. As Anglican feminist theologian Kwok Pui-lan reminds us, the Anglican/Episcopal Church’s condescension toward Africans, Pacific Islanders, Oceanians, and indigenous populations has often been based on their cultures, sexual practices, and gender/sexual expressions (i.e., polygamy, non-contractual marriage, same-gender relations, and two-spirit identities) foreign to European Christian colonizers.
56
As a result, (formerly) colonized people were perceived as dirty, promiscuous, uncivilized, if not evil. Sex and sexuality have become taboo topics in the global Anglican communion. Subsequently, the communion has often been unable to facilitate theologically meaningful conversations on LGBTQ issues, alternative marriage patterns, and the HIV/AIDS crisis, let alone RJ. How can we, the global Anglican Communion, continue to reflect on sexual ethics critically? Kwok’s suggestion represents my ideas: If Anglican theological anthropology is based on the belief that we are created in the imago Dei, it is imperative to theologize how gender and sexual diversity and difference help us to see a fuller picture of the imago Dei. The debate about human sexuality is a threat, but it can also be an opportunity for deeper conversation and communion with the Other and with God.
57
How would RJ look in light of Kwok’s insight? What about abortion? The church may feel that the debate on abortion is a threat, but the debate can also be an opportunity for deeper conversation and communion with the Other and with God.
Epilogue
As of March 2024, Israel’s war in Gaza continues, having killed more than 30,000 Palestinians, including over 13,000 children. Countless people are injured with life-changing mutilation. 58 Palestinians in Gaza have lost any infrastructure for RJ. Despite various views on the war, we, the people of the Anglican/Episcopal tradition, have a Christian responsibility to work to realize God’s peace and justice instead of making war. Likewise, despite diverse views on abortion inside the Anglican Communion, the Episcopal Church should take serious responsibility for continuous love and support for all women and children whose livelihood relies on RJ.
Footnotes
Declaration of conflicting interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
2
3
5
Marvin Ellison, Making Love Just: Sexual Ethics for Perplexing Time (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2012), 99.
6
Loretta Ross, Lynn Roberts, Erika Derkas, Whitney Peoples, and Pamela Bridgewater Toure, eds., Radical Reproductive Justice (New York: The Feminist Press, 2017), 11.
7
Janet Jakobsen, The Sex Obsession: Perversity and Possibility in American Politics (New York: New York University Press, 2020), 5.
8
Marcella Althaus-Reid, Indecent Theology: Theological Perversions in Sex, Gender, and Politics (London and New York: Routledge, 2001), 7, 18–19.
9
Toni Bond, “Embodiment, Identity, and Sexuality: Reproductive and Sexual Justice and Theological Anthropology,” in Searching for Future in the Past, ed. Keun-joo Christine Pae and Kathleen Talvacchia (London: T&T Clark, 2024).
10
Bond, “Embodiment, Identity, and Sexuality”.
11
Bond, “Embodiment, Identity, and Sexuality”.
12
Toni Bond, “Laying the Foundation for a Reproductive Justice Movement,” in Radical Reproductive Justice: Foundation, Theory, Practice, Critique, eds. Loretta J. Ross, Lynn Roberts, Erika Derkas, Whitney Peoples, and Pamela Bridgewater Toure (New York: Feminist Press, 2017), 42.
13
Bond, “Embodiment, Identity, and Sexuality”; Loretta Ross excludes the fourth principle, the right to sexual pleasure when introducing the core values of reproductive justice. See Loretta Ross, “Trust Black Women: Reproductive Justice and Eugenics,” in Radical Reproductive Justice: Foundation, Theory, Practice, Critique, eds., Loretta J. Ross, Lynn Roberts, Erika Derkas, Whitney Peoples, and Pamela Bridgewater Toure (New York: The Feminist Press, 2017), 62.
14
16
Ross, “Trust Black Women: Reproductive Justice and Eugenics,” 59.
17
Ross, “Trust Black Women,” 59–60.
18
Dorothy Roberts, Killing the Black Body: Race, Reproduction, and the Meaning of Liberty, 20th Anniversary edition (New York: Vintage Books, 2017), 56.
19
Roberts, Killing the Black Body, 56.
20
Roberts, Killing the Black Body, 56–57.
21
Bond, “Embodiment, Identity, and Sexuality”.
22
Grace H. Kao, My Body, Their Baby: A Progressive Christian Vision for Surrogacy (Palo Alto, CA: Stanford University Press, 2023), 57.
23
Margaret D. Kamitsuka, Abortion and the Christian Tradition: A Pro-Choice Theological Ethic (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 2023), 109–110.
24
Rebecca Todd Peters, Trust Women: A Progressive Christian Argument for Reproductive Justice (Boston, MA: Beacon Press, 2018), 73–74.
25
Ross, “Trust Black Women,” 60–61.
26
Roberts, Killing the Black Body, xii.
27
Priya Kandaswamy, “Race, Reproductive Justice, and the Criminalization of Purvi Patel,” in Asian American Feminisms and Women of Color Politics, eds., Lynn Fujiwara and Shireen Roshanravan (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2018), 218–20.
28
Roberts, Killing the Black Body, xii—xiii.
29
Kandaswamy, “Race, Reproductive Justice, and the Criminalization of Purvi Patel,” 220.
30
Roberts, Killing the Black Body, xii. During this period, the United States recognized abortion as the constitutional right of women.
31
Kamitsuka, Abortion and the Christian Tradition, 213.
32
Kamitsuka, Abortion and the Christian Tradition, 211.
33
Kamitsuka critically reflects on a 16th century English woman, Margery Kempe’s spiritual autobiography. Margery was in despair over becoming pregnant again after mothering thirteen children since her marriage. When Jesus Christ miraculously appeared in her visions, Margery confronted Christ with her declaration of an unwanted pregnancy. Jesus granted her desire not to mother her biological children but to mother all the children spiritually (e.g., spiritual counselor). In her interpretation of Margery’s spiritual autobiography, Kamitsuka argues that (1) like the story of Mary, the mother of Jesus, Margery’s story demonstrates a woman’s vulnerability in facing an unplanned pregnancy, and (2) Margery’s story plausibly “validates the spiritual impulse of not wanting to be pregnant and not wanting to commit oneself only to mothering born children (207).” See Kamitsuka, Abortion and the Christian Tradition, 202–207.
34
Kamitsuka, Abortion and the Christian Tradition, 207 and 213.
35
Bond, “Embodiment, Identity, and Sexuality”.
36
37
Nancy Folbre, Valuing Children: Rethinking the Economics of the Family (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University, 2008), 1–2.
38
Folbre, Valuing Children, 2.
39
Folbre, Valuing Children, 4.
40
Folbre, Valuing Children, 54.
41
Sabino Kornrich and Frank Furstenberg, “Investing in Children: Changes in Parental Spending on Children, 1972–2007),” Demography 50, no. 1 (February 2013): 1–23.
42
Nancy Folbre, “Introduction” to For Love or Money: Care Provision in the United States, ed. Nancy Folbre (New York: Sage Foundation, 2012), xii.
43
Folbre, “Introduction,” xii.
44
Wonhee Anne Joh, “Relating to Household Labor Justly,” in Justice in a Global Economy: Strategies for Home, Community, and World, eds., Pamela K. Brubaker, Rebecca Todd Peters, and Laura Stivers (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2006), 31–34.
45
Child penalties refer to the effects of parenthood on women relative to men in the labor market and are an indicator of gendered inequality. Research shows that working mothers experience a disadvantage in employment, promotion, and income across the globe. Child penalties are co-related to marriage penalties for women. See Henrik Kleven, Camille Landais, and Gabriel Leite-Mariante, “Child Penalty Atlas,” National Bureau of Economic Research, 2004. DOI: 10.3386/w31649.
46
Ellison, Making Love Just, 14.
47
Rebecca ToddPeters and Margaret Kamitsuka eds., T&T Clark Reader in Abortion and Religion: Jewish, Christian, and Muslim Perspectives (London and New York: T&T Clark, 2023), 29.
48
Sara Moslener, Virgin Nations: Sexual Purity and American Adolescence (Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 2015), 4.
49
Moslener, Virgin Nations, 3.
50
Susan Thisthlethwaite, Women’s Bodies as Battlefield: Christian Theology and the Global War on Women (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2015), 5.
51
Particularly Contemporary Collect 19, 22, and 23.
52
The Book of Common Prayer, 260.
53
The Book of Common Prayer, 260.
55
56
Kwok Pui-lan, The Anglican Tradition from a Postcolonial Perspective (New York: Seabury Books, 2023), 130–31.
57
Kwok, The Anglican Tradition from a Postcolonial Perspective, 152.
