I have finished a novel that takes the reader into the heart of the abortion issue. I wanted to cover all the controversy honestly, but through the lens of an enthralling fictional story. This novel is now being considered by a publisher, and time will tell whether it ever hits the market. The issue of abortion is one of the top two issues that the conservative branches of the church have centered on for the past forty years. The issue also became, what I call the gateway drug to Trumpism, as my conservative Christian friends told me in 2016 that they would hold their noses and vote for Trump then, only because he could overturn Roe V. Wade. They knew then that his other ideas and character were heinous. Now, those same friends no longer hold their noses but are fully “MAGA” believing everything that Donald Trump says… in many cases, a cult. This, I believe, is a devastating event in the history of the American church.

The premise of the story is that an archaeologist, Dr. Caren Rose, who has no religious background, stumbles upon a scroll in the ruins of Herculaneum that is the earliest copy of the Apostle Paul’s letters. As with all ancient manuscripts of the Bible, there are typical textual differences. However, this scroll contains a verse in the letter to Timothy, right after he advises Timothy to drink a little wine for his stomach, Paul tells him to instruct the women in the church who are pregnant and who haven’t had ensoulment (usually declared at the time the fetus moves in Roman times, when the baby breathes in Pre-Christian Judaism) and if the woman is in difficulty or agony (some great physical or social hardship), it would be appropriate to drink an herb, Silphium, known as an abortifacient in Roman times.

Finding this scroll immediately becomes controversial, with the Vatican and the evangelicals claiming it was a fraud.

The setting below is when Dr. Caren Rose, the archeologist who found the scroll, Dr. Jim Becker, an ex-evangelical world authority on early Christian manuscripts from Princeton, Dr. Antonio (Father) Banducci (a priest and archeologist), and Angela, Dr. Rose’s fourteen-year-old daughter, are having dinner on Caren’s balcony in Naples. They mention Father Tuscali, a curator and director of the Vatican Museum.

From Chapter Thirteen (From the viewpoint of Dr. Caren Rose)

The father took the first bite of chicken. “Si. Yes,” he answered as he finished chewing his chicken and took a sip of wine. When his throat was clear, he continued, “Jim told me. I know Father Tuscali well. He is a Vatican loyalist. This won’t be the first time he has weighed in on a controversial topic.” He took a sip of wine, patted his lips with his napkin, and continued, “When he was still a young man in the 1980s, he was the loudest voice in opposition to allowing scientists access to the Shroud of Turin. When their carbon-dating report came back with a thirteenth-century date rather than the time of Christ, he sued to prevent its release. When the Swiss and American scientists won the case and published their papers, Father Tuscali released an official position paper stating that the testing was fraudulent. Because there was no proof, he later changed his position that it was the nature of the miracle of the shroud that it did not respond to carbon 14 dating because it was ‘sostanza miracolosa,’ the substance of a miracle.”

“Dr. Matteo Bianchi, the head of the Istituto Ercolano,” I said, “told me that Tuscali is already claiming that this scroll’s reading is not authentic. You know, because of the one text about using Silphium as an abortifacient.”

“Of course, he would say that,” Father Banducci replied. “He has a scientific degree, but he’s not a true scientist. A scientist begins by setting aside their own bias and following the evidence. Father Tuscali starts with a conclusion, like the shroud is from the time of Christ, and that abortion from the moment of conception is not Christian. Then he forces the evidence to support his conclusion. He’s not, as we say, non di mentalità aperta… Uh, open-minded.”

Angela, who had been quiet, running back and forth to the kitchen to bring salt, pepper, the stuffed artichokes, and clean napkins, asked, “So where did the church come up with the idea that life starts at conception rather than,” she looked at me, “as Mom told me that Aristotle said, at the time the baby moves or intersoulment?”

“Ensoulment,” I whispered.

Jim and Father Banducci looked at each other. Then Jim spoke, “I think I’ll defer to Tony, as he knows the history of the Catholic Church better than I, and that was their idea first. I know what the Biblical texts say, but most of these ideas had nothing to do with the Bible.”

“Okay,” Father Banducci said. “Let me finish my delightful chicken first. Young lady,” he said, looking at Angela, “You’re a fabulous cook. This chicken parmesan is better than any other cooked in a Napoli kitchen tonight.” He winked and continued eating. Angela’s face turned the color of our rosé wine.

After we finished eating, Angela and I cleared the dishes from the table and took them into the kitchen. We returned with coffee and the cannoli, so we moved on to dessert, coffee, and conversation. I pulled the table inside, and Angela helped me push the leather chair onto the balcony with the other chairs.

Father Banducci explained, “The views of abortion are complicated, especially when you get into the early years. There were at least three competing and overlapping issues for the church. In the earliest of times, in the pre-Christian and Ante Pacem period… ”

“Ante Pacem,” I whispered to Angela, “means before the peace and refers to the period preceding the Roman Emperor Constantine the Great’s legalization of Christianity in 313.”

Angela nodded.

Father Banducci smiled at me and said, “That’s correct. The three issues were the value of children in an agrarian society, when infant and pre-teen mortality rates were fifty percent. You needed a large family to survive, and children were a financial asset for the father, especially the male child.”

“Why just the father and why just the male child? A girl can work as hard on a farm as a boy.” Angela asserted.

“You’re right,” said Father Banducci. “But it was a patriarchal society. Men were considered more important than women, and boys more important than girls. Life was short and cheap in those days. The next issue for the church was that parishioners often had abortions in situations of sexual misconduct.” He sipped his coffee and took a bite of his cannoli. “Mmm. This is delicious!” Looking at Jim, he asked, “What was the name of that bakery?”

Jim answered, “Scratcheo, I think.”

“Oh, it is Scaturchio,” Father Banducci said. Looking at Angela, he asked, “Now, where were we?”

Angela opened her mouth, but before the first word came out, Father Banducci continued, “You must wrap your mind around what life was like in the first centuries. There was no thought of birth control, and most families were large, losing many children, as I’ve mentioned. So, the only unwanted pregnancies were those caused by premarital sex, affairs, or rape. Remember, too, that medical care was quite rustic. There was no understanding of how pregnancy could impact the health of the mother, only the fact that many women died in childbirth for unknown reasons. There was also no way to know, of course, the health of the fetus.”

Jim added, “The earliest mention of abortion in the Christian era was in a writing from the first century called The Didache. Your mom is familiar with this scroll.” I shook my head. He continued, “The early Jewish Christians authored this document, though it wasn’t incorporated into the canonical Bible. The exact words in Greek were, ‘οὐ φονεύσεις τέκνον ἐν φθορᾷ οὐδὲ γεννηθέντα ἀποκτενεῖς.’ Which translates to, ‘Do not destroy a child or kill one that was just born.’ Most scholars agree that the word τέκνον can refer to a child or fetus. The fact that the passage juxtaposes τέκνον with a child who is born strongly suggests it means fetus in this context.”

Angela probed, “So, it is settled that all abortions are considered a sin?”

Before anyone answered her question, she quietly muttered, “I have a friend whose sister had an abortion, and her grandparents, who are devoted Christians, refuse to see anyone in the family again.”

I looked at her with a perplexed smile. “Who’s that?”

“Amanda. Her sister, Jasper, was pregnant. But don’t breathe a word about this as I told Amanda that I would not tell anyone… including you, Mom.”

Father Banducci said, “Well, it isn’t as simple as that. Tertullian, a church father from the second century, documented that abortion could be considered if the pregnancy posed a risk to the mother’s life. If you study the writings of the two pillars of Christian thought, Saint Augustine of the fifth century and our Saint Thomas Aquinas of the thirteenth century, both agreed with Aristotle that ensoulment occurred at a time separate from conception, usually at animation, or when the fetus first moves. Augustine put it at forty days of pregnancy. Yet, they both considered abortion a sin because it was associated with sexual misconduct, and it destroys a potential human. Also, procreation was seen as God’s blessing, and things that interfered with it were immoral. Augustine suggested that the fetus, with its formed parts such as arms, legs, and fingers, would be resurrected with a complete body at the second coming of Christ. Therefore, some have made inferences that this means the destruction of a fetus with limbs is murder. But unlike modern American Christians, and Jim can correct me if I’m wrong, the two saints never wrote clearly that abortion is murder.

“There was also no break between Judaism and Christianity as we imagine today. During the first century or so, Christianity was considered a Jewish sect. Keeping that in mind, Judaism considered that a fetus did not achieve true life or ensoulment until it drew its first breath, based on Genesis, where God breathed life into Adam and Eve. During the first trimester, Jews considered the fetus as water and completely part of the mother’s body, like urine before it is expelled. Some Christians held this view even into the Middle Ages. So, the Christian view on abortion has always been complex, but never as restrictive as it is today.”

I asked Jim, “It is assumed that the Christian community believes that life begins at conception because that’s what the Bible teaches. You grew up in evangelicalism, so where does that come from?”

“Grew up in it?” Jim said and laughed. “Hell, I lived in that world for forty years.”

“If you don’t mind,” interrupted Father Banducci, “I’ll answer as a Catholic because that is easy. You see, Pope Gregory XIV published regulations on May 31, 1591, called the Sedes Apostolica, limiting the punishments for an abortion to one of a ‘formed’ fetus, meaning with limbs as Augustine described. He also established that ensoulment occurred on day one hundred and sixty-six of a pregnancy. An arbitrary date, I assume. Then, in 1869, Pope Pius IX issued the Apostolic Constitution Apostolicae Sedis. In that letter, the Pope’s exact words were, ‘Procurantes abortum, effectu secuto, incurrant excommunicationem latae sententiae…’ which translated from Latin as, ‘A person who actually procures an abortion incurs a latae sententiae excommunication.’ The point is, unlike his predecessors, he did not indicate a state of pregnancy, such as quickening, thus many assume it means all abortions regardless of age. The idea that an abortion is the same as the murder of an adult is a recent development.

“But how did Pope Gregory reach this conclusion?” I asked.

The father said, shaking his head, “There’s no record that I know of that describes the Pope’s deliberation over this matter. However, it is important to note that the human ovum and the process of fertilization were discovered only 38 years before the publication of the Apostolicae Sedis. The other remarkable thing, which I doubt is related, was the discovery of DNA in the same year as that publication.”

“So,” I said. “The Catholic Church did not establish that position until the time of the Civil War, and that’s why they are discrediting my scroll from the first century?”

Jim gave one of his blusterous laughs and said, “Caren, we have only waded into the edges of the controversy. Just wait, sweetheart, dammit… forgive me, uh Caren, you’ll set not only the Catholic but the evangelical world on fire with your scroll, and they are ruthless.” He let out a sigh.

About that time, I smelled smoke. I stood to run to the kitchen when I observed a lit cigarette in the father’s hand. He raised it to his lips and took a draw. Angela was staring at me.

“Father. I’m sorry, but we don’t allow smoking in the flat… Uh… Uh, Angela has asthma.”

Angela gave me a perplexed look.

I said politely, “You’re fine here, just don’t bring it inside.”

“I’m so sorry,” Father Banducci said as he extinguished his cigarette in his empty coffee cup.

Jim said, “Now that we know how the Catholic Church reckoned with the idea of when life begins, I’ll try to explain the history of the evangelical viewpoint.” He looked over his shoulder at the street, where a group of boys was playing soccer. He turned back, leaned toward me, and spoke, “Believe it or not, the Southern Baptist Church, the largest evangelical group in the world, passed a resolution at their annual meeting in 1974 in favor of the legalization of abortion in support of women in the church.”

“What?” I blurted. Putting my hand over my heart, I added, “You’re shitting me.”

“No,” Jim said. “You must follow the history of the antiabortion movement. There was a popular Swiss Christian theologian, Dr. Louis Müller, who authored several books that became bestsellers within the American evangelical community. He grew up in Switzerland’s island of relative peace during the horrors of World War II, yet the war and the Holocaust had a powerful influence on him. He was a student of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the Lutheran clergyman who was part of the plot to kill Hitler.”

Jim sipped his coffee and then continued, “Dr. Müller wrote a book in 1973 warning against the dehumanization of people, exhibited by both the Nazis and socialists. He pointed to the devaluing of human life both in the unborn and the euthanasia of seniors and disabled people as the first symptom of dehumanization in Europe and America. He then produced a movie, with the help of America’s Surgeon General, which depicted abortion in a very graphic way. You must give the man respect for his concerns, but even he never anticipated how popular the movie would become, beating several big-budget Hollywood movies in 1976.”

“Were there celebs, you know, famous actors in his movie?” asked Angela. “I mean, what was the draw?”

“Nope. Just Dr. Müller and Surgeon General Nelson talking while sitting on a pile of dolls, representing dead babies,” Jim said while shrugging his shoulders. “And the quality was nowhere near Hollywood, but it troubled millions of Christians. I saw the movie in college, and I cried as I walked back to my dorm. Soon, there were calls by evangelical groups to ban abortion, and they adopted the Catholic position that life begins at conception. Therefore, the ending of that life would be considered the same as murder.”

“I learned something new tonight,” I said.

“As did I,” said Father Banducci. “I read Dr. Müller’s books and met him once, but I never knew he was the one who started the movement.”

“Well, that’s not all,” Jim said. “Dr. Müller died in the 1980s, but his son, Ward, wrote a book about those early days. It was published in 2010. I forgot the name of it,” Jim rubbed his chin. “Anyway, in that book, he describes a special showing of the movie to a large group of Republican lawmakers in D.C. in 1978. Dr. Müller and his son were there to answer questions. Within a few weeks, they were invited to a breakfast with the party leaders, including President Gerald Ford. During that meeting, they told Müller that they had been looking for a hook to capture the evangelical vote.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Yep. Evangelicals appeared on the electoral map as a voting bloc for the first time when their support for Jimmy Carter, a Democrat, propelled him from obscurity to victory in the 1976 presidential election, defeating Ford. The Republicans asked Müller to help make them the anti-abortion party, with the hopes of winning this new political bloc. According to Ward, his father had no interest in that. But that did not stop the Republicans from showing their movie across the country, usually in churches, with the pledge that they would be the ones to stop abortion. The rest, as they say… is history.”

Jim paused to sip his coffee. Taking a deep breath, he continued, “They were able to lead the evangelicals as if they had a ring in their noses, anywhere they wanted,” he said while pinching the tip of his nose between his fingers. “To vote for candidates only because they were so-called ‘pro-life.’ I suspect that if Satan himself appeared, in full costume, red cape, horns, and a pitchfork, and said through bloody teeth, ‘I’m running for president, and I’m pro-life,’ the evangelicals would trip over each other getting in line to vote for him. It was the perfect cause. There’s nothing that stirs passions more than the idea of people protecting the most innocent in our society, helpless babies, from murder, and that is how it was defined. The previous generation of evangelicals was concerned about protecting children from hunger and war. But not anymore,” he stated, grinning and waving his finger. “No siree… now it was saving babies, or so they say, from brutal mutilation. Deeply emotional. No cause is nobler. The pro-life movement became what the scriptures call an idol, more important than Jesus or God themselves.

“While there are many sincere people in that Christian world, I believe that some value religion as a human-derived system for the sole purpose of enhancing their feeling of piety. The evangelical community could have reduced abortions by supporting sex education in schools and easy access to birth control. Still, they live in denial, blocking such measures out of a self-perceived piety. One study even showed that evangelical girls have sex earlier and with more partners than their secular counterparts. But that was only one study.”

“You must be kidding,” said Angela with a scowl.

“Nope, confirmed by at least that study,” said Jim.

“Here’s the other thing,” I said, “When you say that a single cell zygote is a human, which now both the Catholic Church and the evangelicals say they believe, this raises huge implications. Half of these human lives are destroyed by miscarriages, which is one way the body gets rid of an imperfect fetus. Natural. But consider IVF. Most evangelicals embrace it, and it destroys at least eight or nine embryos with each cycle of treatment. What a quandary. They can’t live consistently with their own beliefs. Would they want a child if it required the murder of eight other living children? Of course not. So, they do see a difference between a zygote and a human, although they claim they don’t.”

I looked over at Father Banducci, his eyes closed, and he was taking long, deep breaths. I noticed Jim watching him breathe as well.

“I think it’s time for us to go,” Jim said. “We can continue this tomorrow.”

I was staring into the street, watching the little cars whipping past our building,

“Caren, are you okay?” Jim asked.

“Yeah, but I’m thinking of all those women, like Jasper, who live their lives with the notion that they had murdered their baby. At least that’s what her grandparents have led her to believe. I can’t imagine living with that guilt. I bet she wasn’t the first person in her family to have premarital sex.”

Angela mumbled, “She wasn’t.”

I gave her a hard look.

In Peace, Mike