Ilooked around and, along with my fellow seminarians, found myself in a sea of hats, coats, scarves, and signs—marchers for life headed up Capitol Hill for the forty-ninth year. The weather was cold, the walk was long, but the air was filled with hope; spirits were high. I had never been part of a big protest before. I knew, however, of many demonstrations throughout history that had ended in horrible violence. I also knew that the March for Life is not like that; it is very peaceful. My impression was confirmed about halfway up the hill when I heard singing wafting up from the crowd around me: “Salve Regina, Mater Misericordiae…”—the “Hail Holy Queen” being chanted in Latin. I joined the song and, with my fellow seminarians, continued to the Capitol, praying that the Supreme Court will overturn Roe v. Wade, making this the last national March for Life.
The next morning, our group from Sacred Heart Major Seminary did a different kind of march; we toured Arlington National Cemetery. As we walked the grounds, I was stunned by their expansiveness—plot after plot of land, gravestone after gravestone, memorial after memorial as far as the eye could see. These were men and women who had served our country, many of whom had made the ultimate sacrifice to protect the freedoms we enjoy. I prayed for the repose of their souls, thanked them for their sacrifice, and thanked God for the blessings of living in this land.
In the following days, I reflected on my experiences in Washington. I realized anew that thousands, perhaps millions of brave men and women have died defending our right to live in freedom. Yet our current laws permitting abortion do not honor that sacrifice. They do not grant the God-given, inalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness to unborn babies in the United States, and over 60 million abortions have happened here as a result. These reflections renewed my pro-life convictions. So often, I feel helpless in the face of abortion—what can I possibly do to combat it?—but attending the March for Life reminded me that I am not. I can continue to pray. And I can use my God-given life, liberty, and happiness to procure those same rights for the unborn. I can march for their freedom.
Br. David Snow