The editors at Human Life Review asked me to prepare this entry for November 4, the day prior to the election. In addition to affecting the country at all levels, federal, state, and local, our elections attract the attention of nations around the world, inasmuch as the U.S. serves as the economic, political, and military anchor of the world order. Though we constitute little more than 4 percent of the world population, Americans bear greatly disproportionate power and responsibility for world affairs, and we are feeling the pressure.

I am sufficiently civic-minded, nevertheless folks regularly remind me of the election and its many rivalries. Like any resident of a “swing state,” I am bombarded many times daily by texts and other advertisements promoting one or the other presidential candidate.

And, as a clergyman and close associate of the diocesan bishop, I am frequently contacted by activists. Prolifers and partisans claiming to be pro-life call to complain that our pastors and churches and schools are too sluggish in their pro-life witness. Pro-choicers, and perhaps some anti-Catholics for whom the pro-choice cause serves as an excuse, call to warn me that they are reporting to election or tax authorities any apparent partisanship in Catholic institutions.

I don’t offer much reassurance to representatives of either side. I appreciate the occasional pro-choicer who sincerely wants to protect mothers from difficult or dangerous pregnancies, but I firmly believe that it would be better for all of us were unborn children protected in law and in fact. I appreciate the commitment of pro-life activists in some electoral contests, but the choices are not always as clear to me as they may seem to be to them.

I aspire to be more like the scribe in Mark 12. After witnessing the petulance of the Pharisees and Sadducees as theological rivals of Jesus, the scribe enters the conversation and asks Jesus about the greatest commandment. Jesus returns a familiar answer from ancient Judaism: Love the Lord your God and love your neighbor as yourself. The scribe credits Jesus and agrees enthusiastically. Then “Jesus saw that he answered with understanding, and said to him, ‘You are not far from the kingdom of God.’”

Perhaps unfairly, I smile at “not far.” The scribe is close, but he’s not quite there. He has yet to decide to follow Jesus. But there will be time and opportunity for him to make that choice next year, once he hears of the death and resurrection of the Lord.

Meanwhile, consider how the good scribe comes close to God’s kingdom. First, he knows the commandments. Second, he enjoys some understanding of them. Third, since these are commandments, the scribe (like anyone else) has the opportunity to obey them.

But fourth and perhaps most poignantly, the scribe is not far from God’s kingdom precisely because he is standing in the presence of Jesus, in whom God’s kingdom will be fully revealed. With Jesus’ death, a man will at last have fully obeyed the commandments: Jesus will have gone to his death in complete, loving obedience to his heavenly Father, and in loving self-gift to the rest of us, his “neighbors.” Jesus’ definition, example, and achievement of love set the course by which God saves us all.

The scribe’s example is a good prescription for Americans and especially for prolifers in this and in all elections. Know and understand what abortion is but also why many women with unplanned pregnancies are attracted to it. Understand how law can protect unborn children—not only by affecting behavior, but by establishing moral intuition and fostering cultural habits that favor mothers and children. And behave accordingly: Live in a manner that bears witness to the value and dignity of the persons around you, even when they disagree with you.

Finally, stay close to Jesus. If you are in dialogue with him, he will deepen both your understanding and your love. And if you choose to follow him, he will lead you in the way of sacrifice, the way that can heal and save all the world: prolifers and pro-choicers alike. Depending upon the country of our citizenship, and the circumstances of our life’s vocation, we may have varying degrees of political power, and perhaps experience deeply partisan rivalries. But we are accountable to one God, upon whom we all depend for healing, and for life.