If as a follower of Christ you can accept the premise below that passing new laws about abortion and homosexual marriage without explaining WHY to non-Christian culture is pointless, then you and I are left to puzzle out HOW to do that.

Right off the bat, we’re confronted with a Pauline dilemma about judging others: “What business is it of mine to judge those outside the church? Are you not to judge those inside? God will judge those outside.” – I Cor. 5:11-13.

However, it seems to be permissible for us to judge the acts of those outside, some of which he mentions in verse 11: sexual immorality, idolatry, swindling, slander and drunkenness.

Then HOW do we explain the WHY?

This post would be too long to try to deal with both questions, so let’s just pry into one for now.

Scripture only seems to mention abortion specifically maybe only twice, both times in the Old Testament. In Exodus 21:22-25, a brawling man who hits a pregnant woman and causes a miscarriage (spontaneous abortion?) must pay whatever fine her husband requires. In Numbers 5:11-21, a husband who suspects his pregnant wife of infidelity may ask a priest to force her to drink water mixed with dust and pronounce a curse upon her if she is guilty. The curse may or may not be correctly interpreted to mean that her womb is to miscarry – hard to tell because of the possibility of euphemisms.

Neither of these instances deals directly with an abortion chosen by a woman … probably because Jewish women of that era apparently saw childbirth as a privilege and blessing; the means to perform one doubtless existed, but no woman would have wanted to.

David may well have recognized God’s power in Psalm 139:13: “You knit me together in my mother’s womb; I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” Yet David also said “Even from birth the wicked go astray; from the womb they are wayward and speak lies.” (Psalm 58:3) And Job, at the extremity of temptation and suffering, wished he had never been born or even conceived (Job 3:1-19).

Can we rush to condemn all abortion wholesale when God commands Israel’s armies to utterly destroy their enemies, men women and children? (Deut. 7:2, 20:17, Judges 21:10-11)

It’s a complicated question. When does it become wrong?

Several years ago, my friend Char became pregnant and something went very wrong. The fetus inside her became cancerous, and the pregnancy threatened her life. You can be sure that she and her husband prayed about it. They chose to abort as soon as possible. (They have had two beautiful children since, thank you.)

Another friend, Cindy, was pregnant with her second when in-womb testing revealed that the fetus would almost certainly not survive to full term, though it was no threat to her. You can be sure that she and her husband prayed about it, too. They chose to carry to full term. The baby was born, lived a few minutes, and passed to his next life. (They have since been blessed with a handsome son to keep his older sister company, thanks.)

I’m not wise enough to say that their choices were right or wrong, or would have been right or wrong had they chosen the other alternative.

I just know that at the funeral for Cindy’s baby, her minister shared (with their permission) that they had told him:

“We don’t know why God took our baby home. But we also don’t know why He blessed us with his beautiful sister, or anything else in this life.”

How could anyone express the “why” more eloquently?

Next in this series: The One Where I Just Lose

I’m titling this entry in the grand tradition of the TV series “Friends,” fully expecting to lose a few.

Because I dare to ask the question: What good does it do to pass laws against abortion and homosexual marriage?

Will laws put a stop to abortion? Will laws keep homosexuals from living together just like married people?

Will a new law cause a woman who is considering having an abortion to suddenly think, “Hey! That would be illegal! There must be some reason it’s been made illegal. It must be a sin, and would displease God, and would reserve a place for me in hell. I’d better not do it.”?

Will a new law cause a gay couple to realize: “You know, our lifestyle must be a choice after all, and it must be the wrong choice. If so many people dislike it, it must surely be against God’s will, and worthy of His condemnation. We’d better split up and go straight.”?

Or do such laws just further polarize and alienate the very souls that Jesus laid His life down so that we could reach, and teach, and persuade?

Are we so lazy about His great commission that we just want laws to do the job for us?

Do laws like that really do the job, or just reinforce the perception that Christians are the people who say “I’m saved and you’re not; I’m good and you’re bad; God loves me and hates you, so nyah nyah nyah!”?

What good does it do to pass these laws?

If you say, “Well, it shows where we stand as Christians,” my response is: Was there a doubt before? And are Christians supposed to stand, or to go? teach? disciple?

If you say, “It protects our marriages, our children, the unborn, and our culture,” my response is: how?

If you say, “It’s just the right thing to do,” my response is …

Well, you just read it.

Next in this series: The One Where I Lose More Friends

That’s what Mike Cope’s blog about TEENAGE BREAST IMPLANTS has become, with 51 (so far) responses to his request for comments. That’s probably some kind of record. Many, many of those comments are top-heavy with spiritual wisdom and insight, however (sorry, mine isn’t) and that helps maintain the balance. In case you haven’t dropped by, click the link above.

I just wanted to keep you abreast of the issue.

I was surprised when I got on the plane for Memphis Saturday morning. It was a pretty big plane, an Airbus 319, and completely full. I didn’t know why until I read the airline magazine on my second flight to Indianapolis – a half-full little DC-9: Saturday was the birthday of Elvis.

Undoubtedly, a pretty good percentage of my fellow passengers on that first flight were making their first or second or annual pilgrimmage to Graceland.

A pilgrimmage is an interesting thing. All adherents to Islam are expected to make one to Mecca at least once in their lives. Many of my acquaintances have longed to make one to Israel, and a few have even braved the dangers to do so.

I had to ask myself: Would I?

It’s not a high priority on my list of future travel destinations. In fact I’d rather see Vancouver, Portmeirion or even Charleston for the first time. Or San Francisco again.

But, more important, would I make a pilgrimmage to the places Jesus would have me go?

To the flood-ravaged, the famished, those ill from AIDs, the drug ghetto-trapped, the poverty-stricken, the war-decimated, the hopeless, the imprisoned, the unsought and untouchable and unloved?

“They also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?’ He will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’ Then they will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.” -Matthew 25:44-46

I obviously need to change my travel plans.

And book them early.

An article last week in the Arkansas Times titled I Want My Faith Back stirred to life in me the political animal – sheep, by the way – once again.

I think that my most rabid reaction to the election is the indignity of being treated like a stupid sheep by the political process.

The pols didn’t trust me or you or any of our fellow voters to be able to understand complex issues. They treated us like we were voting on the outcome of an episode of “Survivor.”

We didn’t get presidential debates; we got sound bytes.

We didn’t get a platform; we got platitudes.

We didn’t really get candidates. We just got candy.

While it may be true that we’re not a nation of Einsteins – hence the state of network programming as its entropy increases today – it’s also true that people tend to live up to expectations of them, especially when they’re positive expectations.

Looking back, I wish I (and my fellow voters) had been less like sheep and had stood up and loudly protested our presumed ignorance; had roared like lions “We may be innocent as doves but we’re as wise as serpents!”; had bellowed right along with Peter Finch in the movie Network: “I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore!”

_________________________

Well, I’m blogging out until Wednesday; flying to Indiana to celebrate my mom’s 80th with our family. Talk amongst yourselves; I’m verklempt.

Just don’t bleat. And if you can find it within in you, sign up.

The Vulcan faith is logical

though many of their rites

are ancient, biological

and held at mystic sites.

Good Romulans are wealthy

through Reman slaves and mines;

they value being stealthy

and cloaking their designs.

The Klingons swear by honor

and honor swearing, too.

Oppose, and you’re a goner

with howls respecting you.

Ferengi worship latinum

and being quite well-dressed.

Their enemies? They flatten ’em

unless they are gold-pressed.

El Aurians like listening;

their silence can perplex.

Humpback whales sing, glistening

while Deltans merge through sex.

Some species praise achievement

and if they don’t do well

they die from their bereavement

and hope to go to hell.

I’ve often told my Captain

diverse star-faiths are worth

becoming a Star Chaplain

– they’re fewer than on earth!

Epiphany must be one of the most ironically-named items among those in the liturgical year.

Check your dictionary; epiphany means:

1. a Christian festival observed on January 6 commemorating the manifestation of Christ to the gentiles in the persons of the Magi.
   

2. an appearance or manifestation, esp. of a deity.
   

3. a sudden, intuitive perception of, or insight into, the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by something simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience.
   

Simple enough, it seems, unless you Google it and find that in different fellowships it may be celebrated as a single-day festival, or the culmination of the Twelve Days of Christmas, or as an entire season after them but before Lent. It may also recognize the birth/nativity story of Jesus, His baptism, and/or the miracle of the wine at the wedding feast at Cana!

It seems that you have to have an epiphany in order to know which Epiphany to celebrate. The closest thing I’ve had is the thought that all of those events do indeed herald Jesus as Christ: to His mother, to the Magi, to the shepherds, to John the baptizer and his disciples at the Jordan, to His own friends at a wedding.

However you celebrate yours – and for however long – I hope you’ll spend a few moments of it examining an epiphany that Fred Craddock had, shared in a classic issue of New Wineskins under the title The Hard Side of Epiphany:

If you plan to herald Jesus as Christ, prepare to be opposed.

It’s been a while back, so I can’t remember on whose blog I first came across the question about how to refer to people who don’t believe in Jesus as the Christ.

That’s an awkward phrase, “people who don’t believe,” and begs for a good one-word synonym.

I have trouble with “unbelievers.” It makes it sound like they once believed, but somehow un-did their belief. I’m sure that there are those who feel it was good enough for Paul when he wrote I Corinthians in King James English, but it’s just not doing the job for me.

“Disbeliever” is okay, but also seems to imply that a choice has been presented and rejected.

“Faithless” makes it sound like they don’t believe in anything, or that they’ve been romantic scoundrels, and that can’t be universally true of them.

“Unchurched” sounds too institutional and also strikes me as a good synonym for “excommunicated” or “disfellowshipped,” depending upon your institution’s preference.

Off The Map has trouble with “lost”, and – at the suggestion of Brian McLaren – prefers “missing persons” or “people who were formerly known as lost.” But both of those terms are really gangly-limbed, too; and carry at least as much baggage. So the site usually settles for just putting lost in Italics – maybe until a new term presents itself.

The old advertising-agency-copywriter-marketer in me wants to coin something positive and optimistic, like “pre-believer.” That’s not very realistic. About as realistic as defining all of them as “seekers.”

Last year, my New Year’s resolution was to try to see everyone I met as “someone for whom Christ died.” That’s a snaggly phrase, too, but I like it because it includes those who believe and those who don’t. So it won’t work to describe just … uh, someone who doesn’t believe.

(This year I’ve resolved to try to relate to people the way they would like me to relate to them … and if I can’t figure out how, I’m going to ask. Greg Taylor inspired it with his post The Platinum Rule. I just thought you’d be curious.)

Let’s see: “the damned” … no way … “the excluded” … no … “outsiders” … no … “fertile soil” … no no no. “The ignored” … ouch … “the unreached” … better; not there yet …

I’ll bet Jesus had a good Greek or Aramaic term that Matthew quoted four times and Luke once.

And I’ll bet it didn’t come out to five separate words:

“O ye of little faith.”

Help!

Wade Hodges posts a link to an article by England’s Bishop of Durham, Tom Wright, about the Indian Ocean disaster.

His source, pomomusings, posts another which places the responsibility for the disaster and deaths on God because He “could have stopped the waves.”

I guess I’m in the ignorant minority, but I believe that there are things that God allows to happen that we perceive as evil … maybe to remind us that Death is always waiting in the wings, and Christ is always dying to intercept Death and claim His own.

Maybe there are some things that God permits to remind us that sinleadstodeath sinleadstodeath SINLEADSTODEATH.

Maybe things like earthquakes and tsunamis (earthquakes, at least, are going to happen until the end – Jesus says – but aren’t particularly a sign of it) just happen. Maybe God wound up the clockwork globe and, instead of walking away disinterestedly, waits on the edge of His throne to see what we do with it.

Maybe how we react to disaster is what’s important: with compassion and generosity to the surviving victims, or by trying to blame God or Satan or offshore drilling for them.

Is it even possible that the earthquake/tsunamis that wiped out tens of thousands might have been acts of God’s mercy? That had He not rescued some by water (as He did for Noah) or shortened the days of the tribulation (as is also promised in another context), the disaster might have been many, many times worse?

The only clear message I get from scripture is that, like Job, we can ask all the questions we want to about such things. But that doesn’t mean we can understand the answers.

Claiming to have them seems dangerously arrogant.

One thing is certain: the disaster has already stirred the murky waters of mankind’s innate need to know how good and evil fit into our world.

If we as Christians can’t claim to have all the answers, the least we can do is offer to share in the struggle … ask questions of our own … assist in rescuing the physically and spiritually perishing … pray without ceasing … weep with those who weep; mourn with those who mourn.

And, yes, rejoice with those who survive.

We of all people should know what it is like to be rescued from utter disaster.

My kids – who have been cranky up until Christmas because it wouldn’t come quickly enough – are now calm and sated with more gifts, candy and food than anyone ought to have.

So is their dad. I’m just pleasantly miserable with all of the holiday excess of joy and blessing.

Angi has been slaving away in the kitchen all week, preparing gourmet masterpieces. With my mom and mom-in-law visiting, we’ve watched football and half-a-dozen Christmas classics, including my perennial favorite “It’s a Wonderful Life.” (My 8-year-old daughter Laura gave me the DVD early so we could watch it together on Christmas eve.)

I’ve rotated out of teaching in the Singles class on Sunday mornings, and though I will miss that awesome energy and youth and passion, I’m eagerly anticipating my return to sitting at the feet of two beloved elders and their wives in class again.

With the Singles, I’ve put some very out-there questions before them about what comprises true doctrine, suffering, leadership and holy living. We’ve studied James and I Peter this quarter; a study which seems incomplete without II Peter, where (like the progression in “The Lord of the Rings”) the story grows darker and more threatening. I couldn’t leave the Singles class without recommending that they spend some time in II Peter during the holiday … and if they couldn’t stand a story without a satisfactory resolution, skip on to Revelation.

For in his second letter, Peter struggles with the problem of false teachers, lambasting their empty words, blasphemies, boastfulness and arrogance. (I’ve wondered if some of the Gnostic “secret knowledge” teachings discovered at Nag Hammadi were among the heresies Peter was battling.)

About those teachers, he describes a truly miserable existence:

If they have escaped the corruption of the world by knowing our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and are again entangled in it and overcome, they are worse off at the end than they were at the beginning. It would have been better for them not to have known the way of righteousness, than to have known it and then to turn their backs on the sacred command that was passed on to them. – II Peter 2:20-21

It sounds like a tragic parody of the rescued George Bailey’s words from “It’s a Wonderful Life”:

“Maybe they’d have been better off if they’d never been born again. … I wish they’d never been born again.”

Whew! Now I’m really glad to rotate out of teaching for a while!