Somer Chipman and Chasity Glass were barred from the 1998 induction ceremony for one simple reason — both were pregnant. The American Civil Liberties Union said this was illegal discrimination.

Feminists for Life agreed and backed the ACLU case. Executive director Serrin Foster told the court: “If Ms. Chipman and Ms. Glass had had abortions, their sexual activity would not have become known to school officials. Actions such as those of the Grant County School District thus send a message that a decision to carry a pregnancy to term will be punished.”

This court affidavit was quietly handled by the group’s legal counsel — Jane Sullivan Roberts.

Little ink was spilled.

That was then. This is now.

“We’ve had our share of media attention, but I’ve never seen anything like what is happening in the mainstream press right now,” said Foster, referring to the storm caused by this link between Feminists for Life and the wife of Supreme Court nominee John Roberts Jr. “Maybe the time is ripe. It’s been three decades since Roe and it seems that some people are beginning to realize that abortion isn’t solving all the problems it was supposed to solve.”

Then again, it is also possible that journalists cannot resist stories involving (a) abortion, (b) the Supreme Court, (c) feminism, (d) Catholicism or (e) “all of the above.” The twist in the Roberts case is that Feminists for Life is a nonsectarian group and is often viewed as the odd secular sister at faith-based rallies against abortion.

Over and over, Foster has explained that this 33-year-old organization is as committed to the welfare of women as it is to defending the unborn. This is a hard sell in America’s balkanized public square, where everything is starkly divided into blue vs. red, “pro-choice” vs. “pro-life,” Democrats vs. Republicans, Anthony Kennedy Catholics vs. Antonin Scalia Catholics.

Foster and her colleagues winced when journalists pinned a “committed anti-abortion activist” label on Roberts, and by proxy her husband, because of her volunteer work with Feminists for Life. But Foster was surprised that some scribes kept listening.

The New York Times did quote the group’s mission statement: “Abortion is a reflection that our society has failed to meet the needs of women. Women deserve better than abortion.” Foster went further, confirming that “reversing Roe v. Wade … is a goal,” but also telling the Times that this action is “not enough.”

This is precisely the two-pronged message what progressives who are opposed to abortion have been trying to communicate for decades, said theologian Ronald J. Sider, president of Evangelicals for Social Action. Hopefully, the upcoming confirmation hearings for John Roberts can focus on both sides of this delicate equation.

“What this all illustrates is the fact there are many Christians — evangelicals and Catholics alike — who are strong defenders of human life, yet are in no way right-wingers on many other issues,” said Sider, who two decades ago wrote a manifesto entitled “Completely Pro-Life: Building a Consistent Stance on Abortion, the Family, Nuclear Weapons, the Poor.”

“I suspect,” he added, “that a majority of the American people want to find a way — somehow — to respect and protect unborn children while respecting and protecting the rights of women. Can we find the will to do both?”

Foster has felt that tension and, as a result, has started referring to herself as a “Demorepublicat.” Then there is the tension caused by those who assume that her fight against abortion is built on religious dogma alone, rather than a heritage of early feminist opposition to “child murder” and “foeticide.”

More than once, Foster has described her beliefs and heard journalists say, “That sounds Catholic to me.” Issues linked to the sanctity of life are too complex for this old framework, she said. It will be hard to fit groups such as “Wiccans for Life” and “Gays and Lesbians for Life” into the old stereotypes.

“We can pledge to support every mother and to welcome every child,” she said. “We don’t have to be at war with our own bodies and our own children. We don’t have to settle for that. We can change the status quo.”

Waves of Operation Rescue activists were doing sit-ins at abortion facilities, often handcuffing themselves to the doors while others collapsed nearby chanting, singing, praying and reading scripture. Then police would drag everyone off to jail. This cycle of civil disobedience kept repeating itself at other clinics, in other towns, in other states.

“I remember thinking, ‘They’re all nut cases,’ ” said Forney. “Those tactics were so intimidating to me as a woman and, especially, as a woman who had had an abortion. … I wanted to stay as far away from that extreme anti-abortion stuff as I possibly could. It was all dangerous, as far as I was concerned.”

Then her spiritual walls began to collapse. She had a daughter, which reminded her again of the daughter lost in her 1976 abortion. Eventually Forney had a soul-shaking experience of grief, reconciliation and healing. By the late ’90s she was a leader in the National Organization of Episcopalians for Life. But she still could not embrace the tactics of the Operation Rescue era.

Nevertheless, Forney was one of many who cheered after the U.S. Supreme Court’s 8-1 decision that the federal Racketeer Influenced Corrupt Organizations Act could not be used against groups that protest at abortion facilities. While the cases — Scheidler v. NOW and Operation Rescue v. NOW — stirred up the usual combatants, the anti-abortion coalition also drew wide legal support from other activists who saw the importance of this legal precedent for all forms of protest. Among those showing support were People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, Greenpeace, the Seamless Garment Network, Citizens United for Alternatives to the Death Penalty and Pax Christi USA. Actor Martin Sheen and the activist priest Daniel Berrigan even signed on.

This decision may have closed the door on an era in which anyone who wanted to oppose abortion had to worry about being associated with illegal forms of protest.

Finally, an intimidating link to the past is gone, said Forney. The emphasis now is on finding ways to reach women before and after their abortions. In January, she helped lead a “Silent No More” campaign in 46 states built on the testimonies of women who have had abortions. They held quiet demonstrations at state capitols and other public places, holding black-and-white “I regret my abortion” signs.

“After 30 years, we have to try to teach our choir a new song,” she said. “We can’t keep using the same pro-life words and images that we’ve always used. We have to talk to the women and try to see things through their eyes. We have to let women know that they deserve something better than abortion.”

Meanwhile, there are still legal issues to be resolved about the legal rights of those who still want to pray, preach and protest on public sidewalks, said Joe Scheidler, the activist whose Chicago-based Pro-Life Action League was caught up in the Operation Rescue-era legal wars.

After all, the 1994 Freedom of Access to Clinic Entrances Act calls for sanctions against those who conduct “threatening” protests in or near the “safety zones” around abortion clinics. And after this Supreme Court decision, NOW President Kim Gandy vowed to see to it that “religious and political extremists do not resume their reign of terror at women’s clinics. We are looking at every avenue, including the U.S.A. Patriot Act, in order to protect women, doctors and clinic staff from these ideological terrorists.”

No one expects conflicts to cease near abortion facilities, said Scheidler. But the momentum is behind those willing to find ways to do sidewalk counseling, hold vigils and to distribute information — even coupons for free ultrasound tests — without inspiring fear or lawsuits.

Nevertheless, one person’s free speech may be another’s harassment.

“I don’t know how often we’ve been outside Planned Parenthood saying the Rosary and then suddenly four squad cars roll up,” said Scheidler. “The cops say, ‘We got a call saying you have weapons.’ So we hold up our Rosary beads. … For some people, saying the Rosary can be a form of intimidation.”