The summer of my freshman year in college I took a trip with a non-denominational church to help build a school in Nicaragua. The worksite was an hour outside the city, so every morning we woke up early and piled into a tiny truck. There were never fewer than five of us in its little bed, but it was a beautiful drive—with long stretches of verdant fields, under a pure sky and brilliant sun.
One morning the cargo in the back of the truck consisted of me and four young women, all of them Evangelicals. They began to discuss the prospect of marrying a Catholic man and whether in that case they would become Catholic themselves. Somewhat surprisingly, none of them had much difficulty in deciding that she would. But then one made a stipulation: “I couldn’t do that no-contraception thing.” The others voiced their agreement with increasing distress. “I would never do that,” concluded another; “I can’t see why anyone ever would.”