two noteworthy stories

Here is the story of an abortion provider out of Tampa, FL:

The Board of Medicine has revoked the license of a Florida doctor accused of medical malpractice in a botched abortion case in which a live baby was delivered, but ended up dead in a cardboard box.

The board on Friday found Dr. Pierre Jean-Jacque Renelique in violation of Florida statutes by committing medical malpractice, delegating responsibility to unlicensed personnel, and failing to keep an accurate medical record. Renelique and his attorney declined to comment after the hearing.

The Department of Health said Renelique was scheduled to perform an abortion on a teenager who was 23 weeks pregnant in 2006. Sycloria Williams had been given drugs in advance to dilate her cervix.

According to the complaint, she gave birth at a Hialeah clinic after waiting hours for Renelique to arrive. The complaint said one of the clinic owners put the baby in a bag that was thrown away.

Police found the infant’s decomposing remains a week later.

Difficult to see how this is not infanticide. Indeed, it's difficult to appreciate the gravity of this crime, how grotesque of an evil this actually is, because, hey, this is commonplace. The culture works to make our consciences numb.

And more happily, a story of forgiveness, brought to you by the magic of television:

Nearly half a century ago, in a very different America, Elwin Wilson and John Lewis met under a veil of violence and race-inspired hate.

Wilson, a young, white, Southern man, attacked Lewis, a freedom rider for Martin Luther King, in the “white” waiting room of a South Carolina bus station.

The men had not seen each other again until Tuesday when, with “Good Morning America’s” help, Wilson approached Lewis again—this time offering an apology and a chance to relieve a burden he’d carried for more than four decades.

“I’m so sorry about what happened back then,” Wilson said breathlessly.

“It’s OK. I forgive you,” Lewis responded before a long-awaited hug.

For Lewis, who in the intervening years became a U.S. representative from Georgia, the apology was an unexpected symbol of the change in time and hearts.

“I never thought this would happen,” he told “GMA.” “It says something about the power of love, of grace, the power of the people being able to say, ‘I’m sorry,’ and move on. And I deeply appreciate it. It’s very meaningful for me.”

Public expressions of forgiveness are occasions I find myself rejoicing.

Courtesy of First Things