Pastor's Briefing: The Abortion Debate
In a post-Dobbs world, a pastoral response is one that gives a full explanation to and takes full ownership of our beliefs - beliefs that transcend political allegiances and come with deep conviction forged from deep experience and deep thought, which encourage a posture of faithful presence.
Much has been written on the nature and importance of the historically orthodox Christian church’s response on the issue of abortion. Any article that deals with this topic runs the risk of having the conversation ended the minute someone even reads the word abortion.
This Pastor's Briefing offers a personal and, hopefully, pastoral perspective on an issue that continues to divide this country. As those called to “proclaim the excellencies of him who called us out of darkness into his marvelous light” (1 Peter 2:9), we must give full explanation to and take full ownership of our beliefs. This requires two things: speaking without political allegiances and speaking with deep conviction. Deep conviction, however, requires deep experience and deep thought.
Setting the Context
Just over two years ago, in the 6-3 Dobbs decision, the Supreme Court ruled that the U.S. Constitution did not confer a right to abortion and overruled both Roe v. Wade (1973) and Planned Parenthood v. Casey (1992).
Their decision did not outlaw abortion; it simply sent the issue to the states. However, many states had “trigger laws” already in place that banned or drastically restricted abortion almost immediately. In other states, access to abortion was unaffected since the Supreme Court ruling did not pertain to state laws (e.g., what was legal before was legal after). Shortly after the Dobbs ruling, the Biden administration took steps to mitigate the decision’s impact on people in states most impacted by the ruling.
It’s now October, and a national election is a month away. As many candidates are saying, and as a recent New York Times article explained, “Abortion is on the ballot!” Kamala Harris promises to reestablish Roe through legislation as “the law of the land,” while the once ardently pro-life Donald Trump now sees abortion with “not-too-restrictive limits” as the best path forward. The Democrats have targeted a number of races where the issue of abortion could swing the vote in their favor and, perhaps, the electoral results. During their first, and likely only, debate, both candidates craftily avoided giving a full explanation or taking full ownership of their position. Instead they focused on attacking each other’s views.
The language around this issue can be challenging and inflammatory, and no one likes to have their views turned into a straw man and then attacked. Knowing that, we will strive for an accurate articulation of each side’s perspective and chosen language in order to foster a deeper understanding of our current cultural moment, which is necessary in order to properly pastor and shepherd in our current cultural moment.
For many on the pro-life side, the Dobbs ruling is seen as a significant victory after nearly 50 years of long obedience in the same direction. Many are rejoicing in the lives saved after years of what some describe as legalized genocide. They are working hard to protect as many lives as possible, usually with very limited or no restrictions.
On the pro-choice side, many are outraged that women’s reproductive rights are curtailed and are grieving the loss of autonomy. Some states are amending their constitutions to incorporate a woman’s right to choose.
The observant reader will notice that the presuppositions of each side’s response to Dobbs are not even built upon the same foundation. Instead, one side argues for life while the other side argues on the basis of rights. This difference is, in and of itself, an important consideration when entering into this necessary conversation.
Pastors are not politicians. We are shepherds of people with real lives and experiences. Therefore, it is essential for pastors to speak wisely, clearly, and biblically.
Deep Experience
As the saying goes, “A picture tells a thousand words.” Those words are accurate only if you know the whole story.
This picture of my mother and me was taken in the late summer of 1967, six years before the Roe decision. What is not communicated in this photograph is the reality that my mother was forcefully pressured by my biological father to terminate her pregnancy. Through a series of miraculous events and my mother’s steadfast commitment to protecting her unborn child, his plans were thwarted, and in April of that spring, I came into the world.
After another child, their abusive marriage ended in the early seventies. My mom remarried a remarkable man in 1975. Together, they had two more children. Life became stable and happy as love knit our new family together. We lived in an idyllic small town in the Midwest and seemed poised for a life of endless possibilities and joy.
The second picture was taken in early June 1979, just a month after my sister’s birth. It was also six years after the Roe decision. All of the smiles are genuine.
However, a month after posing for this picture, my new dad suffered a traumatic brain injury that left him permanently disabled and quickly moved our family to welfare. Four months later, just before Thanksgiving, my mother found their daughter (my infant sister) dead in her crib from Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. Our family was devastated, and my mother was destroyed. She had gone from an abusive marriage to a magical marriage to a tragic marriage.
This final picture was taken in late 1980. Much is missing, especially for my mom. She had endured losing much of her husband to a TBI, her daughter to crib death, and custody of her second son to his father in the wake of our family’s implosion. Only one of the smiles is genuine.
Shortly after this picture was taken, and eight years after the Roe v. Wade decision, the woman who had done everything she could to ensure my birth had an abortion.
This information found its way to my ears one evening while I watched television in the family room as my mother talked to her sister in the kitchen. Our family would remain at four until my mother surrendered to her pain. She abandoned her family and became homeless when I was in my late twenties and when my youngest brother (pictured) was only 15.
Why do I share this story? Because it informs how I, and we, should engage in the abortion conversation and the painful discussions in our future.
In addition to my personal experience, two essential aspects inform my approach to this conversation.
Deep Thought
First, I am a gospel-centered Christian, which means I believe my standing before God is not based on anything I have done (or not done) but solely on God’s love for me and the work of His Son, Jesus, to reconcile me to His Father. As a result, I embrace the call of Jesus to love my neighbor as myself, judge not, and make disciples of all nations.
Second, I am pro-life. Whole-life, actually. This means I support life from conception to death. My Christian faith informs my views on life, flourishing, and community care and is further shaped through two decades of theological study and pastoral experience.
Both of these truths are critical to properly leaning into conversations regarding Dobbs with a posture of faithful presence rather than politically motivated belligerence.
In addition, context is essential in any conversation. Shown alone, the pictures above do not tell the whole story. Without additional personal information, responses to these pictures likely result in words received as mere pleasantries. In most conversation, and especially in emotionally charged policy discussions, we should avoid blanket statements and caricatures of those to whom we speak.
When Peter said, “Repent!” in Acts 2, it was to a Jewish audience that understood the language he was using and why he was using it. This is commonly referred to as the rhetorical triangle: Author + Audience + Subject (shared cultural context) = Communication.
Paul uses this same approach in the Areopagus in Acts 17. Stoic and Epicurean philosophers gathered in this famous venue to discuss their competing worldviews and how to bring about the flourishing of the Roman Empire and their own happy lives.
Responding to their invitation to enter the conversation, Paul says,
“Men of Athens, I perceive that in every way you are very religious. 23 For as I passed along and observed the objects of your worship, I found also an altar with this inscription: ‘To the unknown god.’ What therefore you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you. 24 The God who made the world and everything in it, being Lord of heaven and earth, does not live in temples made by man, 25 nor is he served by human hands, as though he needed anything since he himself gives to all mankind life and breath and everything. 26 And he made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined allotted periods and the boundaries of their dwelling place, 27 that they should seek God, and perhaps feel their way toward him and find him. Yet he is actually not far from each one of us, 28 for
“ ‘In him, we live and move and have our being’;
as even some of your own poets have said,
“ ‘For we are indeed his offspring.’
29 Being then God’s offspring, we ought not to think that the divine being is like gold or silver or stone, an image formed by the art and imagination of man.
30 The times of ignorance God overlooked, but now he commands all people everywhere to repent, 31 because he has fixed a day on which he will judge the world in righteousness by a man whom he has appointed; and of this he has given assurance to all by raising him from the dead.” Ac 17:22–31.
Rather than screaming at them through a bullhorn with Christian-insider language, Paul’s words begin with a commendation of their pursuits, informed references to their worldview, and then include two different quotes from contemporary Greek poets before pivoting to a presentation of the gospel.
As elect exiles in a culture that often finds that increasingly finds us irrelevant and/or extreme, we would do well to employ this methodology.
Given her situation, I cannot fathom the confusion, fear, and pain my mother faced, realizing that she was pregnant with her fifth child; but now with a disabled husband and living on welfare. Some would call a decision to terminate a pregnancy an act of selfishness. We might ask if it is possible for a situation to arise that mixes a selfish act with an action motivated by a love for self and others. From any perspective, calling her a murderer would have been the cruelest form of communication.
In addition to the myriad of individual stories behind an abortion, we must also remember that the option to choose an abortion is the only world any woman of childbearing age has known, with the Dobbs decision taking away something they have always known as a right. They are experiencing loss, not gain. This reality must also inform our speech.
The Sunday after the Dobbs decision, many Christians took to Facebook and Twitter to express their joy. Churches nationwide openly celebrated the decision and thanked God for answering their decades of prayers and efforts. I believe that rejoicing was warranted.
But what of the women in the congregation who had terminated a pregnancy in the past? How are they addressed and cared for during services advocating a pro-life position? What about visitors who do not expect such language because they are either seekers or skeptics? Understanding context is an essential element of empathy and compassion. My own painful story tempered my joy after the Court announced its decision.
From Deep Conviction
As Christians, we are called to rejoice in justice and righteousness, but we must do so without embracing a posture of braggadocio, judgmentalism, and superiority. Scripture makes clear that we, too, are all guilty of sin and worthy of judgment.
This is where the gospel becomes central to our response. As we realize that our standing before God is not the result of any merit that we possess or self-generated righteousness, but only because God decided to love us, we are drawn into a posture of faithful presence as we engage our post-Dobbs world.
There is more to a posture of faithful presence than empathy and compassion. It should and must include action. John tells us that when Jesus appeared to the disciples after his resurrection, they were locked in a room for fear of the Jews. Jesus tells them,
“Peace be with you.”
20 When he had said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples were glad when they saw the Lord. 21 Jesus said to them again,
“Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, even so, I am sending you.”
John 20:19–21.
What does it mean for Jesus to send us as his Father sent Him? It means we do not respond by attacking with the sword or hiding in fear. We are sent into the post-Dobbs world in a posture of faithful presence (consider Jesus's interaction with the woman at the well in John 4). As such, our words and actions must flow from an assessment of our context through four simple questions.
Faithful Presence's Four Questions
What is good that requires encouragement? Protecting life, especially the life of those unable to defend themselves, is something that Christians have done since they gathered discarded children out of the garbage piles of the first and second-century Roman Empire.
Developing fair and free markets that lift people out of poverty, protecting women from abusive relationships, and ensuring proper access to health care, education, and employment are all critical aspects of a flourishing society. How can we build upon existing structures and programs to strengthen support for families, women, and children? While pro-life Catholics and Protestants have differing views on the issue of contraception, it seems that addressing the concern that safe and effective contraception remains available is also a needful part of the conversation (one which this article is not sufficient to address).
What else is good that requires encouragement? What role should you and your church play?
What is broken that needs restoration? The Enlightenment moved us from a society that grounds truth in Scripture to one built upon science and reason and, more critically, autonomy and rights. Following the Industrial Revolution (when women and children were no longer forced to work in unimaginable conditions) and World War II (when women were an integral part of our victory through their factory work), many women were relegated back to a role solely in the home. The sexual revolution and the women’s rights movement of the 60s and 70s were seen as giving women back an aspect of their dignity that they were created to enjoy, albeit through a now skewed understanding of dignity.
In prioritizing autonomy and rights, our culture devalued dignity and meaning. Now, the sanctity of one’s autonomy has become more valued than the sanctity of life. How can we restore a proper balance in our understanding of life? There is much work to be done in our society, in our churches, and even in our own individualist perspectives.
What else is broken that needs restoration? What role should you and your church play?
What is missing that awaits creation? When my mother discovered she was pregnant, her world was unimaginably painful and lonely. Any offers of support she heard while making her way into the clinic were too little and too late. My mom needed those relationships and support systems years before her life was turned upside down by her husband’s tragic brain injury and an unexpected pregnancy. How can we, as Christians, create intentional relationships with our neighbors now so that we are a trusted resource when drastic times call for drastic measures?
Over two years have passed since Dobbs. What systems and structures, whether it be through the government or faith-based intuitions, need to be established to support women and children, and fathers, in the years to come? This answer will necessarily look different between free-access and restriction-heavy states.
What else is missing that awaits creation? What role should you and your church play?
What is evil that demands opposition? Some may read this and say, “End all abortions! There is still unfinished work.” I understand that sentiment. But what other evil exists in the post-Dobbs world that must be eliminated?
How about shuffling our children off to “visit an aunt” for a few months because the family does not want “to bear the shame of their daughter’s bad decision.” That, too, is an evil response! It is evil because it is not centered in the gospel. “Jesus was crushed for our transgressions, and by his wounds, we are healed,” says the Prophet Isaiah. How can we respond with judgmentalism and shame when freedom and hope are what the gospel gives to us?
While efforts to reduce and eliminate abortions are essential, we must also work to reduce and eliminate our own pious and self-righteous hearts that lead us to respond in a manner that is counter to the way the Father sent the Son; consider the words of Jesus to every hurting or marginalized woman he encountered. We must seek to eliminate our apathy for the needs of so many women and children. While prayer is always the most one can do, it is rarely all one can do. Therefore, we must recognize that “thoughts and prayers” are not enough and that the phrase itself has often become part of the current cultural indictment of evangelicals on many social issues and other tragedies.
What else is evil that demands opposition? What role should you and your church play?
Conclusion
51 years have passed since Roe and only a couple of years since Dobbs. During the time Roe was in effect, over 63 million legal abortions were performed in the United States. My mother, who had one of them, spent her final eight years sober but in feeble health. She passed away in 2010, mainly from the effects of her attempts to drown her pain with alcohol and the toll extracted from homelessness. Not a day goes by that I do not miss my mom and wish I could tell her I love her one more time. I never told her I overheard her conversation with her sister.
Living in a posture of faithful presence, loving our neighbor as ourselves, and understanding their story is an essential aspect of our response in the post-Dobbs world. In this world, a pastoral response is one that gives a full explanation to and takes full ownership of our beliefs - beliefs that transcend political allegiances and come with deep conviction forged from deep experience and deep thought, which encourage a posture of faithful presence.
Faithful Presence exists to provide whole life discipleship in the whole of life for the whole of the public square. Join us as we seek renewal in politics and the public square by becoming a Supporting Partner.
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