A culture of care, or a culture of control?

A light for the city

Last week, two major decisions passed through Parliament that will shape the moral and spiritual landscape of our nation for years to come. On Friday, the Terminally Ill Adults (End of Life) Bill passed its final vote in the House of Commons. If passed by the House of Lords, it will legalise assisted suicide for mentally competent adults with less than six months to live. Just days earlier, an amendment to the Criminal Justice Bill passed which effectively decriminalises abortion in England and Wales up to 24 weeks.

These are weighty and deeply personal issues. They touch the raw edges of suffering, autonomy, and compassion. They raise real questions about what it means to be human, how we care for the vulnerable, and who gets to decide when life ends. And as followers of Jesus, we must respond, not with outrage or fear, but with truth, grace, and love.

MP Danny Kruger’s words struck a nerve last week:

“The things our country needs more than anything are more children, and more care for our aging population. The Commons voted this week for the opposite—death to both groups. It’s the revenge of the middle-aged against their dependents.”

It's a stark and sobering reflection. Is our society moving toward a culture of care, or a culture of control, where the lives of the most vulnerable are weighed against convenience, suffering, or perceived usefulness?

The language around “assisted dying” and “reproductive choice” can feel deceptively compassionate. But as Andrew Goddard shows in his timely Grove booklet, Right to Die?, much hinges on how we define autonomy, suffering, and even death itself. Are we truly free to choose when we are often shaped by pressure, loneliness, and fear? Are we protecting choice—or abandoning people when they need us most?

We must also ask: what happens to palliative care funding when assisted suicide becomes an option? What message does it send to the elderly, disabled, or depressed, when society says, “Perhaps you’d be better off gone”? Similarly, what hope are we offering to scared women when abortion is framed not as a tragedy, but as freedom?

Jesus offers another way. He meets us in our weakness, not with condemnation but with presence. He doesn't flee from suffering - He enters into it. The cross declares that every life matters, from the womb to the deathbed. And the Church is called to be a place where life is cherished, where the frightened are supported, and the dying are never left alone.

At Emmanuel, we want to be a light to the city - not only in what we say, but in how we love. That includes investing in pastoral care, journeying with those in despair, advocating for life, and praying for our leaders.

If you want to go deeper, I warmly commend Andrew Goddard’s Grove booklet, Right to Die? The ‘Assisted Dying’ Debate. It’s accessible, thoughtful, and grounded in both theology and compassion. 

And above all, let’s keep our eyes on Jesus - who holds our lives, our bodies, and our deaths in His hands. Our comfort in life and in death is that we are not our own, but belong - body and soul - to Him.