A few days after I won the Democratic nomination in my U.S. Senate
race, I received an email from a doctor at the University of Chicago
Medical School . . .
[T]he reason the doctor was considering not voting for me was not
simply my position on abortion. Rather, he had read an entry that my
campaign had posted on my website, which suggested that I would fight
"right-wing ideologues who want to take away a woman's right to
choose." The doctor went on to write:
"I sense that you have a strong sense of justice...and I also sense
that you are a fair minded person with a high regard for
reason...Whatever your convictions, if you truly believe that those who
oppose abortion are all ideologues driven by perverse desires to
inflict suffering on women, then you, in my judgment, are not
fair-minded....You know that we enter times that are fraught with
possibilities for good and for harm, times when we are struggling to
make sense of a common polity in the context of plurality, when we are
unsure of what grounds we have for making any claims that involve
others...I do not ask at this point that you oppose abortion, only that
you speak about this issue in fair-minded words."
Fair-minded words.
So I looked at my website and found the offending words. In fairness to
them, my staff had written them using standard Democratic boilerplate
language to summarize my pro-choice position during the Democratic
primary, at a time when some of my opponents were questioning my
commitment to protect Roe v. Wade.
Re-reading the doctor's letter, though, I felt a pang of shame.
It is
people like him who are looking for a deeper, fuller conversation about
religion in this country. They may not change their positions, but they
are willing to listen and learn from those who are willing to speak in
fair-minded words. Those who know of the central and awesome place that
God holds in the lives of so many, and who refuse to treat faith as
simply another political issue with which to score points.
So I wrote back to the doctor, and I thanked him for his advice. The
next day, I circulated the email to my staff and changed the language
on my website to state in clear but simple terms my pro-choice
position. And that night, before I went to bed, I said a prayer of my
own - a prayer that I might extend the same presumption of good faith
to others that the doctor had extended to me.
And that night, before I went to bed I said a prayer of my own. It's a
prayer I think I share with a lot of Americans. A hope that we can live
with one another in a way that reconciles the beliefs of each with the
good of all. It's a prayer worth praying, and a conversation worth
having in this country in the months and years to come. Thank you.