It was the love-struck Juliet who cried out the famous line: “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose / By any other name would smell just as sweet.” This may strike our relativistic fancies nowadays, helping us convince ourselves that language and names, especially, are merely unrelated grunts. Words, however, are not simply ho-hum inventions—words fit together in an intricate web of interrelatedness and reliance—we know what one thing is based on what another thing is, we might know what one thing is based on its sounding like something else. Names are important, what we call things are telling.
With that in mind, the name ‘contraception,’ is an awfully fitting name. Most people who are trying to peddle a worthless product will usually at least slap an attractive name on the thing—you know, something to give it a little pizzazz. But, alas, there really isn’t anything attractive about the name, ‘contraception.’ When we really look at the word’s make up, we suddenly discover it has two roots: contra and ception. We also will quickly recall from our mental word-bank a certain similarity with words like inception and/or conception. Let us examine how these three words might be related.
Contra is the prefix which means against, or opposed to. Ception is a derivative of the Latin word capere, which means to take, to seize. It is this word that is at the heart of critical and related words like: inception and conception. Inception refers to the start of something, the commencement of an undertaking. It points to the beginning. Conception, is an intensified version of the word inception, indicating a commitment to a process of formulation, an understanding of consequences that will follow. It is no surprise that this word is used almost exclusively in our language when it comes to spawning well-formed ideas or children. Of course, inception and conception are negated when met with the prefix contra. And it is this reason, I believe, that contraception so squarely fits within the collection of satanic sacraments.
What is a sacrament? Forget the technical, catechetical definitions and lets just be general—a sacrament is something that effectively gets us closer to God. Simple. When were we closest to God? Before the Fall. Now sacraments were given to us by Christ in order to move us to a better position, to move us not only to a pre-Fallen state, but to an even better state thanks to the Incarnation. Now there is much to unpack in these last couple of sentences, but for the sake of time and space, let me just say that sacraments tend to take away the effects of the Fall while at the same time restoring us to a state of holiness and Grace which brings each of us more intimately in union with God. We are taken back “to the beginning…”
It was Jesus who kept pointing back to the state of pristine communion with God—in Matthew 19, when Jesus is asked about the permissibility of divorce what does He point to? Moses, the great liberator of the Jewish people, taught that bills of divorce were permissible. But is that what Jesus cites? No. He cites Genesis. “Have you not read that the creator from the beginning…” He takes us back to the beginning—to the INCEPTION and points to a plan devised by God, a CONCEPT(ion), about what marriage and coupling is all about. Divorce was offensive to Jesus because it was contrary to what happened in the beginning (contra-inception) and contrary to God’s plan (contra-conception).
Satan, in his trickery, has desperately sought to keep humanity from returning to God’s original plan for Mankind. His success is really achieved by keeping us from getting back to Eden, from getting to Heaven. Satan doesn’t really care where you wind up—so long as it is not with God, then you’re within his diabolic clutches. Accordingly, Satan, who mocks God in every respect, has instituted his own set of sacraments that are meant to openly oppose God’s attempts to draw you back to Him—Satan’s sacraments, conversely, are meant to draw you away from God. Satan simply has to ask the question, “What will keep them from returning to God’s plan?” And all he must do with his answer is trick you into thinking it is worth embracing. He is forever the slithering liar.
Contraception keeps us from going back to the beginning. Don’t believe me? Just look at its name: Against (contra) the beginning (inception). Contraception keeps us from carrying out God’s plan, abiding His law. Don’t believe me? Just look at its name: Against (contra) God’s concept (conception). Contraception limits our humanity because it takes away our natural fruitfulness. Don’t believe me? Just look at its name: Against (contra) conception. It is a certain sort of audacity to imagine Satan’s reckless decision to call contraception, ‘contraception.’ He is convinced he doesn’t have to cloak the name in some good-smelling , bling-y pizzazz in order to get you to use it. It is a mocking affront to God, I imagine, for Satan to say, “I even told them what it was I was selling them—and they still embraced it!” While the name contraception should be enough to turn us away, perhaps we need to call this thing by another name, since modernity has managed to be suckered into thinking contraception smells as sweet as a rose. It is a foul, festering cesspool of sin, and our sensibilities must be recapitulated. Perhaps we need to call it something more; perhaps a sacrament of Satan or, better yet, unholy. If that were what we commonly called contraception, would we so readily embrace it? Better yet, would we so readily allow the government to force it upon us?