Sunday Morning Sermon

Life has never been a place of continuous happiness or continuous joy. Anybody who expects that is a fool. But we cannot ask our babies before they are conceived if they wish to live or not. Therefore any decision made can only be the decision of the parents, or made without choice if there is no access to contraception. 

To force children to live in a world of starvation and misery, war, and horror is not the choice of most parents, rather political decisions made by evil leaders of theirs or another country, or by the evil, unequal, capitalist based distribution systems in place globally. Even if your country is as socialist as is possible, it will still be affected by the global greeds and corruptions of the rest of the world. 

So parents bring, or not bring their children into the world due to their own desires. I desired children, and in the end I gave birth to five. Each one of them brought me so much joy, and I tried to give them the happiest lives within my power. I did not always succeed, things went wrong , like the breakup of my relationship, him using my children as pawns against me, never quite having enough money, stuff like that. But I always felt responsible, that having chosen to have these children, that I must give them the best start I could and teach them well. I believe I have succeeded in that to the best of my ability.

But I do have regrets. It first hit me, at the time of the Twin Towers, that I had brought my children into a human world that is inherently violent, against each other, against the planet, against the very earth that sustains us. For some years I struggled with the deepest depression, I still do. And my only way out from that, to find any hope at all, turned out to be joining the Green Party of Aotearoa, a political party which abhors war, embraces pacifism, cares for the earth and the people on it. Environment and social care are entertwined, a system that exploits one has the same attitude to the other. I and each of us, must bear responsiblity for the world we bring our children into. 

I also deeply believe that each one of us, now that we are here, are entitled to make our own decision about whether we wish to continue with our life. If our life is too much to bear, for whatever reason, we should be entitled to leave it. But only I can make that decision for me, only you can make that decision for you. Just because a person has disabilities does not mean their lives are too much to bear; a perfectly physically able person may have no joy in their life. It is arrogance that decides for another that their life is a nothing, Malthusianism at its most dangerous, it is this perspective that is morally wrong. 

I insist on everyone's right to live. I insist on everyone's right to choose the time of their death for whatever reason. And their right to bear or not bear children. But with every right comes responsibility. We are all responsible for the world we live in, and the children that live within it.

Speaking ill of Hugh Hefner.

You call us shallow. But I and so many other women lived through your so-called sexual revolution.

We are the women who were girls in the seventies.

We are the girls who were told that if we didn't "put out" this bloke we thought was so cool would move on to the next girls.

We are the girls who were told we were sluts after we put out and that bloke had moved onto the next girl anyway.

And he told all his slaggy mates we weren't that great at sex.

More of a wash-out.



Or, he said, she will put out for anyone and they all came calling, all singing the same tune.

And you were still a slut, eh.

Or, after the first two or three your stomach churned and you said no,

And then they said, but you put out for him and then him, so now do it for me.

Entitlement.

That is what was gifted to the boys by Hugh Hefner.



Or what if that first time you said no, and you stuck to your guns,

Then you weren't a slut after all, you were a frigid bitch instead.

Don't go out with her because she won't put out and so you were left lonely and confused.



Or maybe when you said no that first time.
No, you said, no, no, no.

And he said, I know you really want it, and he got on top of you

Ramming himself against you, bang bang bang,

Under the pine trees.

In the dark.



Under those pine trees, stinking of pine and afterwards, when you pull your pants up,
you get scratched by the pine needles in your pants.

I knew you had done it before, he says, you are no virgin.

I knew you had put out before.

Under the pine trees.

And you had only met him that afternoon. He was in the back seat of a Vauxhall where
Playboy magazines were scattered about. On the floor.



You were Thirteen. When you finally got home there was blood in your pants.
And pine needles.

And you know he told all his mates you were a slut and no virgin and you put out,
They should have a turn with you.

Under the pine trees.

When you were Thirteen.