Earlier this month, in the shadow of the Vatican—a monument to centuries of deception—an unsettling scene took shape as Catholics for Choice, a group of Satan’s steeple soldiers, draped a 50-foot quilt in front of the papal palace. These pro-choice papists, Nicodemites grinning with a pride so thick it was almost palpable, stood before the corrupt heart of their own false church, unfurling a literal tapestry of their self-righteous defiance.
Each square of this gaudy quilt, stitched together in pastel hues that could never soften the horror of their message, carried stories of abortion dressed up as personal triumphs.
“God gave us the power to choose,” one patch read, as though invoking God’s name could sanctify the slaughter of the innocent. Another bore the message, “Mary’s Yes,” a sickening co-opting of a biblical servant of Christ, as though the Catholic Church hasn’t perverted her legacy enough, to justify murder.
These rosary-rattling hypocrites didn’t come to seek forgiveness, but to demand approval, holding their quilt like a banner of war, their weapon against any notion of truth. With this grotesque display, they expect not just to be heard, but to be celebrated for their defiance, as if the very fabric they clutched could somehow sew together the rift they’ve torn between life and death.
The scene was nothing short of a macabre procession—a parade of Hell’s literal angels, draped in their twisted pride, marching with a 50-foot quilt like it was the banner of a conquering army. These Pro-Choice Papists, these rosary-rattling hypocrites, brazenly flaunted their defiance before the world, as if the blood of the unborn wasn’t soaking the very fabric they carried.
And then, of course, there’s the quilt itself, a ridiculous, pathetic attempt to literalize their cause. Each square is another tale of defiance, another testament to their “piercing of God’s heart “pierced heart”-approved piercing of unborn children with abortion tools.
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They present it as if it’s some great revelation, some profound statement of faith. But what is it, really? A cloth of contradictions. A fabric of deceit. They give new meaning to the phrase “moral fabric”—it’s immoral fabric. It’s a shroud, wrapping up the truth and suffocating it under layers of brightly colored lies.
It’s fitting, isn’t it? And they hide behind this quilt the same way they hide behind their rosaries, rattling beads with one hand while embracing death with the other. But quilts unravel and threaded lies come undone. And when they do, they’ll be answering to God for it.
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