O Truth, Be Loud, Be Clear

Terri Shiavo has now died. There is only one thing left to occur and the sharp divisions in this case have made that one necessity a matter of national import: what is the actual truth in this contentious case?

Is Michael Shiavo culpable for anything? Did he lie about her late remembered desire not to be on life support, seeing it was never mentioned in the initial years, even at the medical malpractice trial?

As for Terri, where did the apparent injuries to her bones come from? Who is correct about her state of consciousness and what will an autopsy really show?

I have one desire and that is that the truth and the facts win out in this case. The issues are two serious for arguments of either side of this issue to be based on falsehoods, propaganda, lies, or distortions. There will be reams of books and articles, and probably several doctoral theses published on this case, many mere propaganda for one side or the other in the debate. Those do a disservice to all of us. We need a well-conducted investigation and an honest attempt to arrive at the truth.

That is my prayer today and for the coming weeks. Dear Lord, let the truth speak out, with a loud and clear voice, so that whatever stand anyone takes, it will be a stand based on an honest understanding of the issues involved. Amen.

Only after the hyperbole, propaganda, and obvious distortions are cleared away, can we hope to have an informed debate about this most serious of issues, because what happened to Terri Shiavo doesn’t end with Terri’s death, it will affect us all, now and into the future.

  2 comments for “O Truth, Be Loud, Be Clear

  1. March 31, 2005 at 1:00 pm

    I apologize for this lengthy comment, but I wanted to promulgate this parallel to the world:

    Because I Could Not Stop for Death
    By Emily Dickinson

    Because I could not stop for Death,
    He kindly stopped for me;
    The carriage held but just ourselves
    And Immortality.

    We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
    And I had put away
    My labour, and my leisure too,
    For his civility.

    We passed the school where children played,
    Their lessons scarcely done;
    We passed the fields of gazing grain,
    We passed the setting sun.

    We paused before a house that seemed
    A swelling of the ground;
    The roof was scarcely visible,
    The cornice but a mound.

    Since then ’tis centuries; but each
    Feels shorter than the day
    I first surmised the horses’ heads
    Were toward eternity.

  2. April 3, 2005 at 9:22 pm

    Taylor, I too like Emily. Thanks for posting it.

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