When God Goes Out of His Mind Part V

“Thus has the Lord of hosts said, ‘Dispense true justice and practice kindness and compassion each to his brother…'” Zechariah 7:9

Note: this is part five in a series of essays examining the issue of abortion biblically. Click here for part one, here for part two, here for part three, and here for part four.

Dead Justice, Different Justice

Justice looks like something. After first diligently undertaking the task to understand what justice is, it must then be enacted. This is a principle that runs through all the virtues of life. Virtues are not deeds, but no man or woman can claim to possess them without tangibly embodying those virtues, for the virtues themselves rightfully apprehended compel their possessors to action. Faith is something separate from works, yet without works it is dead (James 2:17). The apostle John asks: “Whoever has the world’s goods, and sees his brother in need and closes his heart against him, how does the love of God abide in him?” (1 John 3:17). The implication is that an abiding love would have tangibly met the brother’s needs. This John affirms in the next verse when he says: “Little children, let us not love with word or with tongue, but in deed and truth” (1 John 3:18). Love is not just something we claim to have with our lips, it is something we express in our hands and feet.

            So it is with justice. Our love for God manifests in obeying his commandment to love our neighbor as ourselves, and part of loving our neighbor means rescuing them from oppression and seeking recompense for injustices done to them, just as we also would want to be rescued and have someone fighting on our behalf. Justice, as a derivation of love, is not something merely desired but something done. Like faith, justice without works is dead. And so the time has come for us, as regards the fight against the systemic injustice of abortion, to begin to sketch out what “boots on the ground” look like.  But before we do that, we best take a moment to remind ourselves as to what justice really is and briefly examine some of the current dilemmas and pitfalls Christians face in the pursuit of justice in our present culture.

            Ultimately, as we have taken pains to delineate, justice is most truly a glory of God issue; it is about God being revered and honored as God. Done rightly, the pursuit of justice is a form of worship. It declares that God is worthy of the sacrifices made in its pursuit. This God-centered motivation of justice must be iterated with utmost judiciousness, perhaps to the point of what some might be tempted to claim as theological ad nauseam. The great danger for all Christians wishing to obey God’s command at the present moment to, “let justice roll down like many waters,” is to take the advice of our godless culture on how to do it. Our present society brattles about with wide-ranging claims of what is just and unjust; ours is a culture that has never been so inundated with discourse on justice while simultaneously residing in a spiritual and intellectual drought of understanding as to what justice is. Talks of justice are everywhere; the loudest and far-reaching voices speak of a justice that is inherently man-centered, self-exalting, and self-interested; and unless God’s people are vigilant, our pursuit of justice will mirror the world’s pursuit of justice, which will not be a true pursuit of justice at all.

            There is also the compounded threat of those in the Church who wish to follow the dictates of the culture and will co-opt the biblical language of justice to disguise their allegiance to godlessness and to trick other believers into going astray with them.  To counteract this, we must be as clear and persistent in our articulation of justice as the world is. If the culture is shouting with confidence and constancy in the ears of the saints, we must endeavor to have God’s word manifest as the overpowering thunder that it really is (Psalm 29:3); a voice so loud and penetrating it reduces the shouts of the world into unheeded whispers.

            This essay series has been a humble attempt to be part of that clear articulation, detailing some of the more general and particular contours of biblical justice. While we do not have time to recall all that has been said, what this series has in part attempted to show, and what the Bible self-evidently shows, is that God’s justice and the world’s justice are different. From this principle, we can derive two others that for our present purposes are key to understand. The first is that this difference is a source of revilement from the world, as much as it may become an object of admiration to them. The proverbs tell us that “An unjust man is abominable to the righteous, and he who is upright in the way is abominable to the wicked” (Proverbs 29:17).  John tells us: “the Light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the Light; for their deeds were evil” (John 3:19). The fallen world is not predisposed to love what comes from God but rather to reject and loathe it; and this is no less true of God’s justice. The second, as already noted, is that a Christian’s pursuit of justice will not look the same as the world’s pursuit of it. Taken together, what we have this: a Christian’s pursuit of justice will be noticeably different from the world’s, and the world won’t very much like what they see.

            Beware dear Christian of pursuing a justice that the world conveniently finds to be vogue. As G.K. Chesterton put it: “Christianity is always out of fashion because it is always sane; and all fashions are mild insanities.” Even at its moral best, the world is never in full lock-step with the tenets and Spirit of our faith, and in a society like ours that has wrenched itself free of much Judeo-Christian thought, the culture will increasingly be given to fashions more aptly described as severe insanities. To be Christian is to be to some extent, larger or lesser, countercultural, and if we are swimming gaily down the culture’s river we can be sure we are relating to the water wrong. We are to be in the world but not of it; in the river, but swimming upstream against its natural tide.

            It should be no wonder then the grave injustice of abortion is not sought by the world as something to be counteracted and abolished. On the contrary, it is celebrated; and those who seek to end its murderous scourge are slandered as being unjust. Obeying God’s command to rescue those who are doomed to death (Proverbs 24:11) in this way will not ingratiate a Christian to the world; no accolades from the culture’s gatekeepers await the Christian who fights against the injustice of abortion, and thus little to no acclaim from unbelieving peers awaits him or her either. Social media posts on this injustice will not ratchet up a flurry of likes, affirming comments, or re-tweets; disparagement and hostility await, as well as the dearth of likes that come from fellow Christians who agree but are too scared of the reproach that comes from giving their pollical sign of agreement.

            And this is why many Christians shrink from fighting it, instead adopting a cause that is more likely to generate favorable feelings from the world and their worldly-minded peers in and outside of the church. It is, unfortunately, the reason why many Christians claim to care about racial justice, particularly in blue states or regions of the country, a combination of cowardice and thirst for human approval rather than genuine biblically inspired concern for racism driving their efforts. Isn’t it supremely convenient when we happen to care and be most vocal about precisely the same things the culture is giving their attention and voice to? Racism is indeed a problem and will only be more so in the days ahead, and it must be challenged by a Church equipped to effectively confront it. But in that arena of justice as well, true Christians will find that the solutions needed to bring healing and recompense will be countercultural, unmet with favor by the activists and influencers who claim to be working towards its erasure. Being a true champion in the fight against racism (that is, one who understands what racism is and how to fight it through a biblical lens) will not make you many friends either.

Old photograph capturing Salmon leaping upstream in Ketchikan, Alaska.

            The true battle against racism will have to be chronicled at another time, but we must understand that many people who have postured themselves as anti-racists have done so out of pretense, in social conformity and because it fashionable, and likewise many Christians have turned a blind eye and deafened themselves to the heart of God on the issue of abortion precisely because it is not.

            We will soon offer up some biblically-informed suggestions as to what tangible action against the injustice of abortion can entail for the believer, how he or she may put the virtue of justice into practice and combat the murder of the unborn through deeds—and through the empowerment of the Holy Spirit be mightily effective in it. But before commencing do so it is important for every disciple of Christ to realize what this justice will look like to much of the world, that is, how it will be received in their eyes, and to make up their minds beforehand to care infinitely more what it looks like in the eyes of God than in the eyes of men. If we launch into the fight against abortion hankering for the world’s acclaim, we will be sorely disappointed. The ways of God are foolishness to the natural man (1 Corinthians 2:14) and what is highly esteemed by humanity is detestable in the sight of God ( Luke 16:15). We must expect the world’s reproach and lack of comprehension to what we do, but if effectiveness is our aim we will find the world’s confusion and anger to be no detriment; believing the world is flat does stop a ship traversing the globe from going round and round, and one’s faulty opinion does not vanquish the efficacy of truth. God’s ways done in God’s power always emerge triumphant and unbeatable when the dust settles.

            Lastly, it is important to note that those who lift their wetted finger to the winds of culture to determine what society will favor them for fighting against never truly become heroes whose actions endure the crucible of history. Heroes are concerned with rescuing the oppressed and down-trodden of society; their ears are attuned to the cries of the helpless, not the praises of people. They well know their efforts to rescue the oppressed will be met with indifference or hostility—if society broadly approved of a hero’s rescue efforts they would not be oppressing the very people the hero is attempting to deliver. Heroes do what is righteous, not what is expedient. They stand against a tide of menacing evils the culture is allowing themselves to get carried along with. They stand alone or in the company of the few. They confront darkness most cannot see or are else too afraid to stand up to. That is what makes them a hero. While their journey is arduous and often lonely, by the brightness of their courage and fortitude others are drawn to their cause, turning men and women into souls that become stones on the scales of justice, accumulating force and weight that eventually tip the scales in favor of righteousness within a society. Some heroes live to see that tipping in their day, others do not, but they know with confidence that their lives given as weight for justice will not be in vain. With these truths in mind, let us now attend to how to practically combat abortion.

The Power of Prayer

            The first response of any Christian to systemic injustice is prayer. The famous maxim of A.J. Gordon applies here to combating abortion: “You can do more than pray after you have prayed; but you can never do more than pray until you have prayed.” To do the work of God requires grace, and God gives grace to the humble, and prayer by its nature is an act of humility. It is a demonstration of need, a recognition that help is required. It starts the undertaking of justice on the right foot: not the foot of pride (Psalm 36:11)—a trust in one’s strength or abilities—but a trust and a need for the strength of God. Every tangible manifestation of battling abortion must first be bathed in prayer—and then sustained by it. Prayer enables the work undertaken to be supplied with divine power, in so far as the work is truly submitted to God and carried out with righteous motives (one cannot use prayer as a sanctifying gloss to cover over works done with fleshly motives or in disobedience to God), and constant prayer ensures the work remains supplied with divine power. Many workers, having begun energized in the Spirit, tire themselves out by resorting to the arm of the flesh. Some never start in the Spirit at all, mistaking their nascent and untested zeal for the inspiration of the Holy Ghost. But those who wish to be successful over the long term in their efforts and last as long as the battle may require will not long neglect the place of prayer.

            But prayer is not only a prerequisite to acts of justice against abortion, it is an act of justice against abortion. In Luke 18, Jesus gives his disciples an important lesson in this regard.

Now He was telling them a parable to show that at all times they ought to pray and not to lose heart, saying, “In a certain city there was a judge who did not fear God and did not respect man. There was a widow in that city, and she kept coming to him, saying, ‘Give me legal protection from my opponent.’ For a while he was unwilling; but afterward he said to himself, ‘Even though I do not fear God nor respect man, yet because this widow bothers me, I will give her legal protection, otherwise by continually coming she will wear me out.’” And the Lord said, “Hear what the unrighteous judge *said; now, will not God bring about justice for His elect who cry to Him day and night, and will He delay long over them? I tell you that He will bring about justice for them quickly. However, when the Son of Man comes, will He find faith on the earth?”
(Luke 18:1-8)*

            Christ’s point is clear: if justice can be extracted from earthly, unrighteous judges through an individual’s persistence, how much more can the sons and daughters of the king whose very throne is founded on justice not fail to receive it through constant asking? Just as the judge has power to grant the widow protection from her enemy with a word from his mouth, so does God have the power to end oppression and wickedness with a decree from his lips. In the same way a prosecutor goes to the court to pursue justice for the victimized, so do we as God’s people go to the heavenly court to petition the judge of all the earth for justice against particular abominations. And Christ promises that when we do so persistently our efforts will pay off and justice will be served—with haste (Luke 18:8). The principle here is that persistent prayer brings speedy justice. Many political battles in state legislatures and in the courts have been and are currently being fought over the legality of abortion. These battles are important and necessary. But the most important place to seek justice is at the throne of God, and only prayer brings us there. Those who wish to see justice in the realm of abortion must thus give themselves to constant prayer.

            Prayer is also a weapon wielded in the realm of the spirit. Every Christian is a soldier in a war waged, “not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 6:12). What these forces in heavenly places are, we are given little concrete information. We know Satan is the “prince of the power of the air” (Ephesians 2:2) and that he took a third of the angels with him in his rebellion (Revelation 12:4), and that angels war in the heavens for the destinies of nations (Daniel 10:13, 20). We know that there are “unclean spirits” which love to torment and afflict humans and work towards their death (Matt 17:15, Luke 9:39). Furthermore, we know that the murdering of infants is something undertaken to honor demons (Psalm 106:37-38), and that the prerogative of Satan is to kill, steal and destroy (John 10:10) and that Satan has been a murderer from the beginning (John 8:44). A biblical understanding of abortion, therefore, recognizes that the embeddedness of abortion in our society is something satanically enforced and inspired; it cannot be rooted out of society through appeals to rationality or tireless political activism alone. It must be confronted on a spiritual level in the arena of prayer and fasting where the saints wrestle with cosmic deities.

            Such notions no doubt strike many western ears as foolish, but Christians understand that humans neglect the realm of the spirit to their own peril. The unseen realm is, true to its designation, unseen; but it is very much real. This is not a call to superstition or fruitless speculation of things we barely understand. It is a call, however, to acknowledge plainly what the scriptures tell us and the ways to which the materialism and empiricism of the West may dispose us to treat these portions of scripture less seriously than we ought and to engage these mysteries in a spirit of humility and Christian duty. These spiritual enemies are real and we must war with them. Make no mistake: as a murderer from the beginning, the cultural, legal, and economic apparatus of abortion is of Satan’s kingdom. Victories gained in this arena are territories taken from him. It is by the Spirit of God and not man’s wisdom or might that Satan’s kingdom is expelled and the kingdom of Christ advances (Matthew 12:28), and it is by prayer the Spirit’s power is both accessed and wielded (Eph. 6:18, Rom. 8:26).

            No Christian with the most rudimentary understanding that they have become soldiers in Christ will neglect the weapon of prayer. To do so is to not be engaged in the fight. And certainly no Christian who has been gripped by the grief and zealousness in the heart of God as concerns the litany of the world’s injustices will do so either. To at once both truly behold the horror of an injustice like abortion and to hear the promised power of prayer against it and then do nothing to apprehend its sure-given victories is unconscionable and unthinkable. In a world as dark as ours and as those who have received the lofty promises of prayer’s effect, to not engage in the activity of intercession is to be as derelict as the soldier who deserts comrade and commander at the battle line, as callous as the mother who does not feed a starving infant from her milk-filled breast. Real believers, when confronted with injustice, get on their knees and pray.

Individualized Compassion (Stopping for the One)

            In ancient Rome, unwanted infants were discarded by members of society who found them burdensome or undesirable, left to die in the woods from exposure or the ravaging of wild beasts, or else to be snatched up by those who would rear them to be slaves or prostitutes.1 Girls in particular were likely to be victims of infant abandonment, as they were considered to be less profitable in bringing economic support to the families that bore them.2 In defiance of this low regard for human life, Roman Christians, recognizing the preciousness of those made in the image of God and of God’s zeal for the defenseless and the orphan, rescued these unwanted children from garbage heaps and other common sites of abandonment, adopting them as their own.3

            Rather than being met with acclaim or even indifference for their acts of compassion, so wayward was Roman society that it remonstrated the Christians for such deeds, many of its denizens finding the Christians’ rescue efforts as odious to the point that saving infants was actually made illegal for a period.4 Such attitudes make for an elucidating parallel to our own times where pro-life advocates are often viewed with the same contempt. Ours is a society not merely indifferent to slaughtering children, but hostile to those who wish to stop or abate the bloodshed. From the early Church’s rescuing of infants, the present-day Church inherits a long-standing pedigree of care for the marginalized and oppressed, as well as an acute understanding that Christ-like compassion has long been countercultural and we should not be surprised to find society at odds with our attempts to care for the vulnerable.

            The early Church, confronted with an embedded inhumanity in its culture, and without the promise of aid from institutions or state, rushed in to fill a great void of care and need. While, as we shall later see, the Church did not neglect to make use of its power to solve infanticide on a macro-level when such opportunities arose,5 they did not let immanent inability of producing systemic change prevent them from administering as much justice and compassion as they could to needy children. They took to heart seriously their Master’s injunction to love their neighbor as their self, treating each tossed away infant like the Good Samaritan did the victim of bandits left bleeding on the side of the road. In doing so, they witnessed to the eternal fact that the LORD is a God who cares for the individual; his destitute cries reach his ears and her miseries and mistreatments are observed by his eyes with care and zealous concern.

A piece of Roman artwork from 2nd century A.D. depicting children playing ball games, likely from a sarcophagus.

            The early Church’s deeds also testify to the biblical reality that injustice is an individualized experience, as much it may also be a systemic one; systemic injustices exist because and only because individuals are being oppressed, and thus justice is something fought for on behalf of individuals. Where systemic injustice truly exists, it is not being meted out to some amorphous, abstracted, and indiscernible body of people, but to individual souls with singular lives, names, and faces. In today’s milieu, much emphasis (and not entirely wrong in so doing) is placed on systemic solutions to the malaises of society, but as followers of Christ we must never forget that justice and compassion starts with the individual in front of you, with the soul in your neighborhood that needs rescuing, and the sacrifices made to help that soul are infinitely precious to God and eminently valuable in performing regardless of whether such actions appear to produce nothing more than most minuscule of tears in the fabric of injustice. When the electricity goes out in a city on a cold winter’s night, we do not let the fact that we are unable to restore power to the entire city grid prevent us from going door to door with blankets and hand-warmers and flashlights and such—we do what we can to alleviate the suffering of individuals, recognizing the inherent dignity of doing so. In short, we do not let an inability to make a systemic difference prevent us from making an individual one.

            Such must be the Church’s attitude with abortion. While—and let this be abundantly clear—we must strive to bring a systemic end to abortion, we must never let the absence of a possible and imminent solution prevent us from rescuing as many victims of the system as we can. That “many” might not look like much. It may look like convincing one mother out of hundreds entering abortion clinics to not terminate their child. It may entail a family pledging to raise two children who were given up for adoption instead of aborted by their biological mothers. The devil in such circumstances would whisper in our ears that such actions are pitiful when considered to scale. What good is standing outside an abortion clinic two hours a week for ten years for a cumulative amount of over a thousand hours of one’s life and only rescuing a dozen babies, when thousands more were killed in that same duration? What good does one little adoption do (especially with all sacrifices of time and finances) when millions of children will be killed in the same span of years it takes to raise that child? The devil always tries to boast of his numbers in order to get us to despair of our own.

            But we must remember that every Christian act of rescuing a child from abortion is a manifestation of the saving power of God; it is a revealing of the heart of the Everlasting Father. How can one put a price tag on something like that? If every child is made in God’s image, then the worth of our rescue is not calculated by numbers. Let us contrast two examples of the crime of arson to cement our understanding of this. If an arsonist sets fire to a paper factory, the brave attempts of an individual to rush in and save reams of paper would seem only absurd. Whether he recovered twenty reams out of ten thousand or two, his rescues would be insignificant to the total amount of loss and the company would not be celebrating the measly amount of paper he saved from the flames but rather lamenting the staggering financial losses they incurred. Moreover, the act itself would not be admirable—why bother risking your life for a handful of reams? If the individual had been able to put out the fire entirely and save the factory, that act may have been worthy of some esteem. But in the absence of such ability, being brave for a few reams of paper is both foolish and frivolous.

            But what if an arsonist sets fire to a world-renowned museum? And, in the panic of rising flames, a curator rushes in and comes back out of the smoke with one single Monet? The terrible fact that most of the priceless holdings of the museum—world-renowned masterpieces—were destroyed in the fire would certainly cause great grief. But rescuing that sole painting would not be disparaged in any way but rather celebrated, and cherished all the more bittersweetly because it alone escaped the fire. No one would think that the Monet was not worthy of being rescued simply because all the other paintings were consigned to the flames.

            The devil is like the museum arsonist. The greatest Artist of all existence has made millions of self-portraits, each in its own right a masterpiece. Many may be lost by the murderous fire of abortion, but everyone rescued is a cause for great joy, and the value of their rescue is independent of how many others are lost or saved. This truth is a great bulwark to the lies and discouragement of the enemy. A single child saved is infinitely valuable to God, as are our efforts to save one. Our God is a God who leaves the ninety-nine sheep to find the one. His dwelling place is inhabited with those who strike up the band and uncork the champagne at the repentance of a single sinner—how infinitely precious is a single soul to God! We must never let the magnitude of lives left untouched by our efforts obscure the unfathomable magnitude of touching one individual life for the glory of God.

Woman with a Parasol – Madame Monet and Her Son, by Claude Monet.

            Furthermore, we must realize that small-scale acts of compassion are never as small as they seem. The repercussions of justice done to one individual can have far-reaching consequences beyond imagining. The word of God itself testifies of this. Moses was one child, bravely rescued from the systemic injustice of Egyptian infanticide (Exodus. 2:2). This one act, this small protest, this seemingly tiny rebellion against a towering malevolence led to the shaking of Egypt. It was the tiny crack in the dam leading to a deluge of pent-up justice that liberated the oppressed masses and the vanquishing of tyrannical forces. Likewise, one child saved from the murderous spree of Athaliah led to both a dethroning of wickedness and a renewed period of national justice and peace (2 Kings 11:2, 17-21, 12:1-3).

            Even if the individuals we touch never lead to such visible and climatic change, the repercussions of our acts are still incalculable. Apart from the immediate impact on the individual shown compassion, who is to know how many other actions of compassion that single act inspired or led to, or the size and scope of them? Picture a great and renowned music composer, a progenitor of some of the world’s most beloved and timeless pieces who was instilled with love for music by his grandmother. Surely without the grandmother there would be no great composer and no sublime works of music? But what about the grandmother’s school teacher who first awakened her to the beauty of music? And that school teacher’s uncle who in turn did the same for him? The arcs of our lives, small and provincial as they may seem, are never really small or provincial, and our actions are rippling out through time generating causes only eternity will fully reveal.

            To belabor this point a little longer, we would be amiss without pointing out that the force of our acts are not only measured in their individuality but by the collective force to which they belong. The systemic injustice of abortion, after all, is upheld by individuals. It remains a system because of individual secretaries scheduling individual appointments in individual abortion clinics within individual cities, to be seen by individual abortionists. Each employee of an abortion clinic knows that neither staying nor leaving their line of work is likely to change much on a macro-level, and that the upholding of abortion rights and accessibility does not rest solely on any one of their shoulders—and yet it is jointly upheld by them just the same.

            So we must realize it is only our willingness to be an individual that—if it is all God allows—saves a few unborn children each year, that in turn brings about the rescuing of thousands of children; that it is in all of us humbly taking our place with hammer and chisel against the great edifice of abortion that this fortress of death will one day crumble. Our individual acts of compassion may seem a pail of water poured out on one small plot in a vast desert land, but collectively they can become the torrential rains of justice God desires the land to be inundated with—if only enough people do their seemingly small acts. Alone, our efforts may seem to be the scantest wisp of a cloud, together they can become a dark and tumid thunderhead.

            There are many concrete actions Christians can take to this end. One is to volunteer some of their time at a crisis pregnancy center that provides free resources like ultrasounds so that women can see their growing baby. Ultrasounds have long been a thorn to the abortion industry—when a woman witnesses the obvious humanity of the life inside her she becomes less inclined to kill it. These centers also offer abortion-reversal pills which counteract the effects of the abortion pill mifepristone (RU-486), allowing women who have had a change of heart after taking the pill to save their unborn baby’s life.6 Many also provide free counseling services to help women navigate the emotional duress that comes from having an unplanned pregnancy (especially those in poverty or other challenging domestic circumstances) with the aim of bringing hope to women who are afraid they will be unable to handle going through with their pregnancy. One of the devil’s main devices is the power of fear which he uses to prey upon women and tempt them into killing their child. Dispelling fear from a woman’s heart often leads to the rescuing of a child’s life.

            Crisis pregnancy centers are also often able to help struggling mothers get connected with social services or other non-profits to help assuage any financial difficulties a mother may have that would incline her towards an abortion; they provide diapers, formula, and other much-needed postpartum supplies. as well. Taken together, they are havens of hope that provide women with practical and emotional help and a touch of care from individuals genuinely committed not just to the safety of the unborn child but the well-being of the mother’s soul. 

            Another way to reach individuals with the justice of God is through sidewalk counseling. This involves standing outside or near abortion clinics to lovingly counsel women not to kill their children. Counselors come armed with the truth and a heart of compassion (not self-righteous judgment) to urgently persuade women to choose life instead. The abortion industry thrives on lies and deceit; lies about the physical and psychological health risks of getting an abortion, misinformation about the biological development of a fetus, false narratives of female independence and unborn children as career-crushers and misery-makers and detriments to the soul’s personal happiness. The abortion industry lies by saying it cares about women when in fact it only uses them for monetary gain, and most of all it lies when it tells women that what is inside them is not a human life and can be terminated with no consequence—no guilt, no residue of shame, no wrong done. Sidewalk counselors are on the frontlines of this battle against systemic murder, confronting these lies with love and truth to save children just before their mother delivers them into the jaws of death. They are literally fulfilling the command of Proverbs 24:11 to deliver those being taken to death and to hold back those staggering to slaughter. 7

            Adoption is another powerful way of dismantling abortion on an individual level. Like the infanticide of Roman times, the act of abortion speaks two messages over a child: you are not wanted, and you are not valuable. And with every terminated pregnancy those words are not only spoken over that child but function as a discourse to the world at large, suggesting and inviting others to see unborn children the same way and in turn speak the same two things over them. Adoption as an action speaks the very reverse of those words. It says to a child: you are wanted, and you are valuable in the eyes of God. And it too serves as a discourse to the world about what children are and how they should be treated; it is an embodied statement proclaiming a radically different view of the worth of a child and the lengths to which we should go to not only allow an unborn child to enter the world but to welcome its entrance with gladness, care, and love.

            When we agree to adopt a child that would otherwise be aborted we not only rescue the child, we powerfully refute abortion’s lie. What was one person’s “mistake” now becomes another’s cherished blessing; what was once an inconvenience to keep now becomes someone others have gladly inconvenienced themselves to keep. Abortion tells society: your own child is not even worth the cost of being kept alive. Adoption tells society: a stranger’s child is worth the cost of being raised as your cherished own.

             Adoption in its truest sense is not merely a couple wanting a child someone else did not want or could not take care of; it is agreeing with the heart and mind of God over that child’s life. The child is an image-bearer that he created, one that he desires would come to know his mercy and love. It is his precious in his sight. When a husband and wife adopt a child they are not saying we decided you were valuable to us, first and foremost they are simply affirming what is already and most consequently true: you are valuable to God. If one truly values God, then he or she will value what he values; in this way, adoption becomes a form of worship to God.

A scene from a child’s sarcophagus, depicting the mourning of a child. Rome 2nd century AD.

            The aforementioned activities are no doubt just a few of the many ways compassion can be put into action on behalf of the unborn. It should be added that in addition to the sacrifice of one’s time and bodily presence in these activities one can add their monetary support to reputable organizations and individuals actively involved in such work. The abortion apparatus is well-funded with financial support from governments, with the fundraising efforts of non-profits, with the benevolence of secular philanthropists and the super-wealthy (such as Warren Buffett), as well as the money collected from medical-insurance companies and out-of-pocket costs by abortion providers—it is a monetarily well-oiled machine of death. In contrast, many pregnancy centers must make do with lean budgets that hamper their ability to acquire full-time staff and restrict the breadth and quantity of resources provided and many willing couples are impeded from adoption by the costs of the fees involved. There is no doubt many more children could be saved if Western believers were less materialistic and more interested in using their wealth to transform lives.

            It is also true that many in the Church and our consumerist society use the giving of money as a way of avoiding the more inconvenient and uncomfortable methods of seeking justice that require direct use of our time and hands. As this is too easy a trap to fall into, we must caution against any believer from too easily and hastily determining that giving money is the only way they have been called by God to bring justice to the issue of abortion. The Good Samaritan, our model for giving justice to our neighbor, included money in his response when he paid the innkeeper but he also bandaged the roadside victim and set him on his donkey to bring him to the inn; he got his money involved as well as his time and personal presence. We would do well to heed his example and be wary of straying far from it.

            This is not to say everyone must give of their time and money in equal measures or amounts. The makeup of our means, circumstances, and callings are endless in variation and we must not judge or presume disobedience on the part of one person or the other because they gave little here or little there or much. We must simply be aware that all of us are called to take up our crosses and live lives of manifested sacrificial love and there is a tendency in all of us that goes against that—our flesh which kicks against discomfort and sacrifice and looks desirously at the path of ease and smallest loss.

Conclusion

            There are two more indispensable and biblically-mandated ways all of us who wish to obey God’s commandment to demonstrate justice against the evil of abortion must engage in; these will be the subject of Part VI. For now, dear Christ-follower, if your heart burns to see justice unleashed in the realm of abortion, get on your knees and pray. Devote the time you were spending on that Netflix series or some other recreational endeavor instead to the mighty work of intercession; give God greater persistence than the widow gave to the judge—you have greater grounds for confidence than she did. And better yet, don’t do it alone; gather with other believers who have heeded the call to seek the Judge in the place of united prayer.

            Then, go and reach out to the frightened and confused mother; intervene to rescue the life of the unborn child in front of you, angered but undeterred by the knowledge that so many others may not elude the jaws of death. Be Christ to the mother or child he has put in front of you, knowing that regardless of how few or many do likewise as your Lord he is worthy of your witness. Know well also that when enough of Christ’s Body is Christ to the person in front of them, Christ becomes who he is to untold thousands: Savior and Redeemer—rescuer from regret, from sin, from death.

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Notes

1 The practice of infant exposure is well attested to in ancient literature; in historical chronicles, in works of philosophy, and in plays and legends. Oedipus, mythological King of Thebes, was left abandoned as an infant; so too were the legendary founders of Rome, Remus and Romulus—said to have survived by sucking from the nursing breasts of a female wolf. Cicero and Seneca seemed to have advocated for the practice, and both Plato and Aristotle promote some version of the practice in their works too, though in their case it can be argued to be part of a utopian or future moral vision, and may or may not cohere to the practices of their times. Suetonius and Plutarch also make mention of the practices in their historical works along with other recorded records.

2 See: Shelley, Bruce. Church History in Plain Language. 4th ed., e-book, Thomas Nelson Publishers, 2012, pp. 43, 100.

3 Sometimes, Christians could do little more than give these abandoned infants a proper burial. Inscriptions of buried children in Christian catacombs revealed that some were victims of exposure and infanticide. The Christian’s belief in the imago Dei was reflected in their concerns of treating the body as something worthy of a respectable burial. The pagan emperor Julian is noted to have said that it was “the kindness of Christians to strangers, their care for the burial of their dead and the sobriety of their lifestyle” that helped advance the spread of their religion (See his letter to Arsacius).

4 See: Shelley, Bruce. Church History in Plain Language. 4th ed., e-book, Thomas Nelson Publishers, 2012, pp. 100.

5 Starting with reforms made by Emperor Constantine and culminating in the outlawing of infanticide by Emperor Valentinian, Christians were eventually able to use their influence to persuade rulers to enact laws against the killing of infants and thus bring justice on a broad societal level.

6 A little less than half of all abortions given by Planned Parenthood are now medical abortions (as opposed to surgical ones), and nationwide medically induced abortions account for more than a third of all abortions performed. See: https://www.reuters.com/article/us-usa-healthcare-abortion-exclusive/exclusive-abortion-by-prescription-now-rivals-surgery-for-u-s-women-idUSKBN12V0CC And: https://www.guttmacher.org/evidence-you-can-use/medication-abortion

7 Again, these actions of compassion are not only directed at the infant, they are also directed at the mother. Abortion preys on the despondent, the confused, the fearful, the desperate and the vulnerable. Many women who get an abortion are pressured to do so, whether by their family or the man who impregnated them, and it is not uncommon to find that the woman wants to keep her baby but feels trapped in a situation where she is compelled by others to kill it. In our post-sexual revolution culture, women increasingly find themselves impregnated by men who have no intention of providing emotional and financial support for the child they have procreated; we have far too many men who shirk fatherhood at all costs and who treat women as something to be discarded after being sexually used. Raising a child alone is a daunting task even for those of ample means and the loving support of a family, and for those of little means and no one to rely on it can take on a specter of catastrophic quality. We must neither downplay nor deny the victimhood of the mother in such situations as we are there to help her too along with her child. We understand, however, that the best way to help her is not to rationalize or excuse her desire to have an abortion, but to persuade her not to make the child she is carrying a victim of her own. That will only add to her misery in the long-run, not alleviate it, as the mistreatment a person receives is never cured by mistreating another.

*Unless noted, all scripture quotations taken from the NASB. Copyright by The Lockman Foundation.

When God Goes Out Of His Mind Part IV

“For he will deliver the needy when he cries for help, the afflicted also, and him who has no helper. He will have compassion on the poor and needy, and the lives of the needy he will save. He will rescue their life from oppression and violence, And their blood will be precious in his sight…” Psalm 72:12-14


Note: this is part four in a series of essays examining the issue of abortion biblically. Click here for part one, here for part two, and here for part three.

Hero Making

True Christianity lends itself to heroics. Rightly understood and lived out, no other system of belief is more apt to foment acts of bravery and rescuing among mankind. From Corrie Ten Boom’s hiding of the Jews and Dietrich Bonheoffer’s clandestine church and resistance efforts under Nazi rule to Brother Andrew’s Bible smuggling and Jim Eliot’s outreach to violent indigenous tribes; to the tireless and protracted efforts of John Newton and William Wilberforce to the end British slave trade or the extraordinary lives of St. Francis and St. Patrick, the Christian faith has no shortage of personages, ancient or modern, worthy of the title hero.

            Indeed, the origins of the word “hero” itself find their closest fulfillment in the annals of God’s written word. Taken from a root word in Greek that meant “defender; protector,” the word hero originally meant one who was a demi-god: part man, part divine; a person endowed with supernatural strength or ability used in the service of righteousness to protect and rescue others. Throughout disparate centuries and cultures, stories of men and women engaged in deeds of outsized bravery and righteousness have captured the minds of children and elders alike; tales of individuals who by their great strength and marvelous powers aid the oppressed and vanquish agents of darkness whether they be kings, raiders, or monsters. Men and women of outsized stock who stand apart from the rest of humanity; otherworldly, they seem, and often quite literally are, divine.1

            No demi-god, Christ was God himself come down in human flesh to grant humanity a mighty deliverance from the unbreakable shackles of sin. He exceeds the heroic ideal—what humanity had dimly hoped for was not enough. No hybrid being would suffice for deliverance from doom; mankind needed one among them fully man and yet fully God. Brimming with love in his heart and undaunted in the face of death and the spiritual agony of the cross, Christ undertook the greatest display of love and bravery the cosmos will ever behold and accomplished the greatest feat of rescuing time will ever see, triumphing over the powers of darkness once and forever. He is the King of kings and the Lord of lords, and to that, we might add, he is the Hero of heroes. All true acts of heroism are but shadows cast by the light of his own. Because humanity has been made in the image of God, at our best moments, pale reflections of what he is the substance of shine through.

    If the Christian is called to pursue acts of justice—acts of deliverance and advocacy for the oppressed—as we have contended he or she is, then he or she is called to display this heroic nature of Christ. Fighting against injustice and oppression is not a task fit for the weak or cowardly, it requires bravery and strength. One must have both the power necessary to be effective over forces of injustice and the courage to use such power in the face of suffering and daunting opposition. One quality is not much good without the other; a hero has both. Thus, the call to pursue justice, and more particularly to our purposes, the call to rescue the unborn, is a call to heroics. If God has commanded us to “deliver those who are being taken away to death” (Proverbs 24:11), then he has commanded us to engage in heroism. How to be such a people we shall undertake to explain.

Achilles, from a detail of a 300 B.C. pottery painting.

            As we chronicled at the conclusion of the last essay, the failure to pursue justice is ultimately a failure to pursue Christ-likeness. Implicit in that statement is the assumption we have the ability to pursue Christ-likeness, as failure implies something other than mere inability. The young boy grieves himself over his sixth consecutive strikeout in the little league games in a manner he does not when he spreads his arms and leaps from the roof of his house in an attempt to fly. The former deals with possibilities, the latter does not. Truth be told, the pursuit of Christ-likeness is more in line with the boy’s rooftop aspirations than it is with his home-plate endeavors. It requires of us something we don’t have in and of ourselves—something contrary to who we are. The boy needs a set of wings; we need a new nature. Just as he cannot set sail to the skies without those feathered appendages, so are we unable to ascend to heaven’s lofty heights of heroism without a deliverance from sin and transformation of soul. And only God can supply it.

            The story of the gospel is that there is only one hero. There is only one able to rescue and render justice for the world’s evils. And none of us qualify. Sin had made the whole of mankind both prisoners and villains—or, perhaps better said—prisoners to being the villain.2 The gospel starts with the terrifying truth that God comes to enact justice, not on our behalf, but on his behalf against his adversaries, who are those who have broken his laws and besmirched his glory. And man, in his natural state, is God’s foe. What a wretched state to dwell in! Sin was what enslaved us and what we needed rescuing from, and yet sin was what made us enemies to the only one with the power to rescue us. We were like convicts with a terminal disease whose judge was also our doctor, the only cure for our sickness residing in the hands of our executioner.

             A true hero is both compassionate and just. But when Satan tempted Eve and Adam fell, he tried to strip the world the chance of ever beholding one. He put God in the ultimate conundrum: spare humanity and be unjust, or destroy humanity and render sin more consequential than mercy, which is an aspect of love. But the Almighty cannot be beaten. Taking the punishment for our sins, Christ satisfied the justice of God; his death freed us from sin’s enslavement and healed us to live lives of righteousness (1 Peter 2:24). Our executioner sat in our electric chair and gave us our medicine—justice and mercy accomplished in one act.

            This is the good news, and it holds implications for us. All salvation and justice come from God alone. In need of rescue, we were unable to save ourselves or others; as villains, we lacked the ability to bring justice to the world’s myriad evils, standing condemned as those who must receive Justice’s inescapable and fatal blow ourselves. As pertains justice, God looked down on the earth and saw that there was no man able to bring it, so he put on his war garments and went to dispense it himself (Isaiah 59:15-18, Isaiah 63:3-6). He says of his quest for justice, “from the peoples there was no man with Me” (Isa 63:3). Salvation, deliverance, and judgment were undertaken by him and him alone. Why do we start here? Because the first step to true heroism is recognizing that there is and will always be only one who is truly heroic: Christ. Only Christ had the love, courage and power necessary to save; the rest of us needed saving. Left to ourselves, we only had the power, perhaps, to choose which particular flavor of villainy we wanted to aspire to. To be anything other than the prisoner and villain is a miracle wrought by the heroic work of Christ.

Gospel Responders

            What that necessarily implies is that any and all works of heroism we undertake are derivative of his own; all acts of saving have as their origin and their possibility the salvation that comes from Jesus Christ. Why do we as God’s people rescue others? Why do we intervene on behalf of the unborn? Why are we able to? Because God has already rescued us. His rescue is the source of our ability and the motivation behind our own. Hence, all true justice is done in response to the gospel.  

            By this, we mean that for Christians, pursuing justice is an expression of gospel gratefulness. We have dealt at length with the grievous consequences that await those who fail to pursue justice and how our inaction to the shedding of blood makes us complicit in it and positions us to be recipients of a terrifying divine judgment. Such truths produce a holy fear in us that banishes our inactivity and complacency—and they are meant to; it is the fear of the LORD that starts and keeps us on the path of wise living (Proverbs 9:10). But as Christians we must take pains to understand that God does not desire us to act only because we are afraid of his judgments; he wants us to part ways with our inaction because we love him and have a heartfelt desire to be like him. In gratefulness for what He did on the cross, we are to freely give him our glad service. In adoration for who he is, we are to make him the object of our earnest emulation. Thus our fight against injustices and our effort to rescue others is one of thankful imitation. After all, is it not so that the heroes that receive our highest venerations are the ones we aspire to imitate?

            By saying all true justice is a response to the gospel, we are also speaking of causality: true justice is the result of the gospel and an expression of the gospel—and hence an expansion of the gospel’s work. In other words, acts of true justice embody and carry within themselves the message of the gospel and are themselves manifestations of God’s saving power. Every form of deliverance and every act of compassion has the gospel as its genesis and is designed to be an expression of the gospel because whatever we do, we are only doing it because of what Christ did. Without the work of Christ on the cross, there would be no work for his disciples to attend to. And, if the gospel is the real reason for our work, then in our work we will not fail to let people know the reason. Deeds always beg the question of motives, and even when not explicitly asked, those who are highly motivated by the love of something or someone cannot help but confess to others the raison d’être of their actions—to do otherwise would seem to be a betrayal to the object of their love. So it is that if the love of Christ on the cross compels us to works of justice, we will want the recipients of those works both to know his love and to know that it is love for him that motivated us to perform them. Every outstretched hand lifted up from a miry clay, every hurt man or woman held and bandaged by the saints, in asking, “Why did you do this?” should hear from a follower of Christ’s mouth: “Because this is what Jesus did for me; I am here to help you only because he has sent me.”3

            The importance of this cannot be overstated. As his people, God sends us out not to bring people into our rescuing, but into his. The heralding of the gospel is telling others what Christ has done for us so that he might do it for them. We do not bring people to salvation—Christ does, but he uses us as a means to bring the lost to himself. And so with every other form of rescue. To God belong deliverances from death (Psalm 68:20). The poor and needy are fed and rescued by his hands (Psalm 146:7, 68:10, 109:31). While instances of supernatural intervention are often portrayed only as unmediated encounters between God and the person helped (or else with some assistance from angelic beings), the truth is that the help a saint offers is no less supernatural. As many have pointed out, if the Church is the body of Christ, then we are his hands and his feet, which means that behind our footsteps and outstretched arms are his own. If Bob’s hands build the cabin, then the builder of the cabin is Bob. It follows then that if Christ’s hands feed the poor, then the one who has fed the poor is Christ. Thus, in all the work of the Church, Christ is working.

            If our rescuing is both made possible by and done in response to his rescue of us, and if our works of justice are acts of obedience conducted as servants in response to the commands of a king, then it is not accurate to claim we have rescued or rendered justice for anyone—Christ has, through us. Each action of deliverance and justice is just the latest in a series of dominoes to fall which began their cascade at the cross—they are part of the onward sweep of his love and saving power across space and time, Calvary the site of detonation blast that forever extends outward by the activity of the saints.

            None of this is meant to distance us from the urgency of taking action or blunt our responsibility to work justice and rescues—it is meant to frame it. In reflecting on his work among the apostles, Paul did not shy away from declaring what he had done: “I labored even more than all of them.” But to such a declaration was joined the addendum, “yet not I, but the grace of God with me” (1 Corinthians 15:9-10). Prior and more fundamental to the “I” of his labor was a “not I,” one for whom the credit of labor was more rightfully due. Our labor against injustice must be vigorous, but reverentially and humbly recognized as empowered by the vigor of another.  

            Many a Christian has had as part of their journey the realization that while they claim to be saved by grace alone, by their deeds and attitudes it is evident they have been under the gospel of works, seeking to gain the favor and acceptance of God their creedal statements already claim they have been bestowed with. In a similar manner, increasingly unnoticed perhaps in our time, Christians can proclaim Christ is the solution for others while acting and living as if they are the answer to mankind’s ills.

A man points to the secret door beneath the closet shelves in Corrie Ten Boom’s bedroom. The damaged wall was a false one built to hide Jews who would crawl through the secret door and stand shoulder to shoulder to escape detection from Gestapo.

             Nowhere is this more evident in our present hour than in the multitude of calls to action on behalf of that ever so amorphous term, “social justice.” Such a topic cannot be delved into at any great length right now for our present purposes, but suffice it to say, the myriad of causes under the umbrella of social justice, legitimate and illegitimate, too often have as their key ingredient and tenet a belief in the power of human will and effort to bring forth justice and redemption. In many Christian circles where social justice has become the locus of church engagement, the name of Christ may be invoked and his example held up as a model of inspiration, but as a source of power, he is squarely in the background; what man can do takes the stage—front and center. But when man’s ability is the focus, man is what will be trusted in, and man is what will be worshipped. Whenever this happens a true pursuit of justice has ceased.

            This distinction is no small one. It is not a case of splitting hairs—it is everything. For in it lies the divide between an authentic pursuit of justice and a false one. The call to justice is a call to action. We must get up and get involved. But knowing why we act, and knowing why we are able to act is critical and foundational. Misstep here and the heeding of the call will have been in vain. The work of justice is not done to earn us favor with God (his favor is something we already have and can never earn) and it is not done to make us look or feel valuable or important—it is not a vehicle for self-glory. It is not about what we can do or accomplish by our efforts; it is about what Christ has accomplished, and what he can do through redeemed vessels purchased by his blood.

            Hence, in our confrontation with the horrors of abortion, saving the unborn must never become a vehicle for self-righteousness, it should always be done as a response and an expression of the gospel from those who have joyfully received its tidings. For every child saved from the pill, the vacuum, the forceps, and the knife; and for every mother lovingly counseled out of fear and selfishness from a decision one day she will sooner or later regret; when they ask their rescuers “Why?” they should receive one answer: “Because Christ did the same for me.” We rescue the unborn because Christ rescued us. And in our rescues, we bring them into his rescuing.

Superpowers

            In Luke 4, Jesus enters Nazareth’s synagogue, unrolls the scroll of Isaiah, and reads:

18 “The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me,
Because He anointed Me to preach the gospel to the poor.
He has sent Me to proclaim release to the captives,
And recovery of sight to the blind,
To set free those who are oppressed,
19 To proclaim the favorable year of the Lord.
(Luke 4:18-19)*

            After closing the scroll, Jesus declares, “Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing” (Luke 4:21). The Spirit of the Lord was upon Jesus for a purpose. He was the Christ, the “anointed one,” and the ministry Jesus was anointed for was one of rescue and deliverance. Jesus was the hero Israel had been waiting for. And “waiting for” must be emphasized. They had Moses to lead them out of Egypt, Gideon to rescue them from the Midianites, Sampson and David to deliver them from the Philistines, Esther and Mordecai to save them from the decree of Haman the Amalekite—but none were the promised Messiah who would liberate and rule his people with peace and justice. From Israel’s time in the promise land to their exile and return under Persian, then Greek, then Roman rule, their history was one of much oppression with seasons of reprieve that fostered temporary or partial deliverance by the hands of the men and women God had raised up. But the one who would bring total and lasting freedom had yet to come, and his arrival was anxiously longed for generation after generation, century after century, until the day Christ set foot in that Nazarene synagogue. It had taken centuries for the Hero to come.

            Embedded in the idea of heroism is rarity. If society has heroes dime-a-dozen then there is no need to venerate them, nor are they to be sought and wished for with any great intensity. Since they are always around when you need them, your need for them will not be very great, and the myriad forms of hydra-headed wickedness will have been hacked to julienne-sized pieces of darkness by the efficient overkill of a thousand swords. The narrative appeal of a place like Batman’s Gotham is that there is one Batman and a thousand villains to contend with; a thousand Batmans with ten villains in town would not be any child’s favorite comic. This is because such a lopsided power dynamic does not conform to our intuitions of reality. The earth is a dark place; sufferings wrought by a plethora of evils abound. The Scriptures themselves declare that “darkness will cover the earth and deep darkness the people” (Isaiah 60:2), and that “the whole world lies in the power of the evil one” (1 John 5:19). For humanity, darkness pervades; and in its shroud, we search for glimpses of light. When a hero appears, it is an event of utmost significance.

            It should stun us all the more then, that as his people, Christ has ordained that we be like Him. At ancient Antioch, the followers of the Way were first called “Christians,” that is, “little Christs.” Having entered the world and ascended back to Heaven, Christ did not intend for his presence on earth to be a quantitatively singular event; the whole world was to be filled with people who displayed His glory. Until his second coming that event will remain qualitatively singular, yet despite this, we are still told by Christ that his people, his “little Christs,” are called to do the same works he did while on the earth and even greater ones.

            How can this be? The same Spirit that dwelt inside of Christ and descended upon him when he rose out of the Jordan is the same Spirit he promised to pour on his disciples for divine empowerment and the same Spirit now taking up residence in each of his children’s hearts. This Spirit is now within and upon his followers, who are “little anointed ones.” And guess what? The divinely-empowered task has not changed. We are still called to preach the gospel to the poor and proclaim that release to the captives has come through the shed blood of the Messiah. And, we are still called to, “set free those who are oppressed.” The Spirit conforms us to Christ’s image, both in character and deed. We are to think and feel as Jesus thought and felt, and we have been given what Jesus was given so that we can do what Jesus would do. The rarest of all beings, now that he has come, is supposed to seem to the world a little less rare in encountering.

            This is a wonder of the gospel. We were once villains; the Hero has rescued us­—and the nature of his rescuing was to take our villainous souls and transform them into heroic ones. Christ the hero came and stood alone. But now that he has come, he is no longer alone. His victory over darkness has now unleashed Christ-in-miniatures all over the earth, reborn with a new nature capable of true heroism—the boy on the roof can now fly. Christ now stands as the Hero all true heroes look up to, and unlike the demigods of Greek mythology, these heroes are mere humans—but God lives inside them. In this regard, the necessity implied within those myths—that we are in need of divine humans to rescue us—was not far from the truth. Divinity and humanity comingled once walked the earth, and walks it still; inside the hearts of the humble, unassuming men and women all across the earth whom he has come to dwell in. They are now the earth’s heroes—simply, and only—because the Hero lives in them.

Portrait of William Wilberforce, a Christian abolitionist who was instrumental in ending the British slave-trade. By Karl Anton Hickel.

            That, dear Christ-follower, includes you. While the dangers of self-glorification that could arise from a perverted embrace of this truth are real and evident, there remains the greater danger of dishonoring God and robbing him of his glory from neglecting it. We must not devalue the Spirit of God by devaluing the implications of the Spirit of God being inside and upon us. Through Christ, we have been called to perform valiant, mighty, and effective deeds. To live a life other than this is to live in opposition to who he has created us to be. The world lies under the power of the evil one; a dark pall of hopelessness and cruelty surrounds the lives of untold many; and in every country, town, and city lurk those whose souls have been twisted into an ever-darkening resemblance to the image of Satan—a lion, prowling around in search of those whom they may devour. Into this miasma he has sent you, just as the Father has sent him (John 20:21), to be to the world as a star, burning clear and refulgent against the blackness of night (Philippians 2:15).

            We do him no honor by shrinking from the sending. We are what we are only by his hands, there is no room for boasting, and indeed to be what God intends for us to be can only come through a deep and abiding humility that well understands the words of the Lord: “Apart from me you can do nothing.” It is was in the moment that Peter, overwhelmed by the holiness of the one who called him said, “Go away from me Lord, for I am a sinful man!” But to this, he was told: “Do not fear, from now on you will be catching men” (Luke 5:8-11). So it is that when we recognize what we are apart from Christ, we can begin to become what we are when we are with Christ.

            In Job 29, the eponymous sufferer declares:

11 “For when the ear heard, it called me blessed,
And when the eye saw, it gave witness of me,
12 Because I delivered the poor who cried for help,
And the orphan who had no helper.
13 The blessing of the one ready to perish came upon me,
And I made the widow’s heart sing for joy.
14 “I put on righteousness, and it clothed me;
My justice was like a robe and a turban.
15 
“I was eyes to the blind
And feet to the lame.
16 “I was a father to the needy,
And I investigated the case which I did not know.
17 “I broke the jaws of the wicked
And snatched the prey from his teeth.

(Job 29:11-17)

            Because of Christ’s Spirit, what Job said of himself can now be what we say of ourselves—if we choose to live it. Justice can be our clothing—not just for special occasions, but our daily wear. When the Spirit of God is upon us we can break the jaws of the wicked; we can shatter the sharp teeth of the abortion industry and its pervasive culture of death that in greed and without mercy devours the unborn and tears at the souls of women and men. We can rescue victims out of their clenching grasp. The unborn that stood ready to perish can grow up and become the tongues that bless God and bless us.

Ex Fide Fortis

            Abortion is a deeply entrenched evil within society, maintained and guarded by the forces of hell. But the spirit of Christ is mightier, and “greater is He that is in you than he that is in the world” (1 John 4:4). This is no rah-rah-summons or pep rally. Confronting great evil requires great courage, and the truth is, only Christians are justified in possessing it. While God requires utmost humility in ourselves, that humility is meant to be expressed in utmost confidence in him. If he is to have within us the heroic hearts he is worthy of, he must have a people who believe that his mighty power to save comes not only to us but is able to come to others through us.

            In his zeal to rescue the unborn and stop the shedding of their blood, God is looking for men and women who feel woefully unequipped in themselves to do anything about it. He is not looking for self-assured crusaders to jump with him into the fray. Truth be told, if we are not overwhelmed by the colossal magnitude of this systemic evil to the point of near-despair, we are not seeing as we ought. It should be despairing enough to stand in front of one abortion clinic and watch dozens of men and women walk in to destroy their child, let alone to contemplate that such a scene is happening simultaneously with the one being witnessed in thousands of other cities across the country, and to know these daily horrors are celebrated and given ideological justification in our newspapers, television shows, schools, and even our pulpits. Such realities, rightly contemplated, bring men to their knees.

            Yet in that place despair does not have to remain. Systemic evils force us to look beyond ourselves—beyond our capabilities and strength, to have a clear vision of the one who says, “Is anything too difficult for Me?” (Jeremiah 32:27). We lift our eyes to the mountains and ask where help can come from, and in so doing we receive an understanding that the one we serve is the one who causes the mountains to melt like wax and the one who puts words in our mouths that can uproot mountains and send them plummeting into the sea.

            After all, the world’s true heroes (those whom the world was not worthy of) have always been defined by their great trust and unshakable faith in the Lord. It is was by faith that they conquered kingdoms, shut the mouths of lions, quenched the power of fire and from weakness became strong (Hebrews 11:33-34). As the warrior-king and hero David exclaimed, “For by You I can run upon a troop; and by my God I can leap over a wall” (Psalm 18:29). David’s confidence in performing these heroic feats stem from three words: “by my God.” In seeking to rescue the unborn, God is looking for individuals who will say those three words, then live by them. When commanded by God to rescue the unborn, obedient disciples who know they do not have what it takes will earnestly ask for the Spirit to be given to them, and this God will supply—in lavish measure. They will go forth to their work in great faith and great power, and their work will not be in vain.

            The truth is, like heroes, such people remain rare—far rarer than God has intended. He did not crush his only beloved son and promise the gift of Spirit to make for himself a people who act and live as if they were feebly endued by it. There was never meant to be an aristocratic divide in the Christian faith—a small group of individuals who truly know and live by his power and a swelling mass of commoners who do not. There is a multitude of assignments and callings in the kingdom, but the power of the Holy Spirit is to mark and enable them all. As there are many parts in the body and yet all parts depend on oxygen to survive, so is it that none of Christ’s body and its various parts have been designed to function without the Spirit’s power. Yet far too many of us live as if our air were cut off.

            The world needs Christians who live otherwise. The unborn need men and women who believe God is mighty to save—and will not quit knocking on heaven’s door until they became conduits of his mighty salvation. Above all, God is, not in need of, but wholly worthy and deserving of, individuals who seek to be used by him in matters of justice, not first and foremost for the sake of the world’s inhabitants, but the sake of his glory; knowing that, ultimately, justice is a matter of God getting the glory due his name, and that rarity of heroism in his people should be sought as a thing to make less rare, precisely because in being made less rare, God will be glorified all the more, and men will give thanks and praise to the only one worthy of it (Matthew 5:16). If our hearts burn to be such men and women, we need do nothing more than bow our knees and stare at the cross. If we gaze upon Christ and him crucified long enough to catch a true glimpse, our hearts will break, and nothing will dissuade us from praying for holy power and staying on our knees till it arrives. When it does, we shall rise up and take our stand for the oppressed and unborn.

Notes

1 Take for example Homer’s Achilles or the Greek legends of Hercules. Both were the products of humans coupling with the divine; the former by a human king and water goddess, the latter by Zeus and a woman. Such beings were entirely fictional; whatever personages that may have inspired them, figures like Achilles and Hercules never walked the earth. Yet the longings of the human heart captured by the imaginative tales about them are quite real, revealing over millennia the collective longing of the human race for a savior, one who is divine and yet present among us in our sufferings. In short, they reveal a veiled longing for Christ.

2 Romans 5:6-11 elaborates this state quite well along with succinctly explaining the saving work of Jesus Christ. In verse 6 it says: “For while we were still helpless, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly.” Christ did not die to lend us a helping hand or give us a holiness boost as it were, like a child who needs a bit of help to climb over a fence. Our state was one of complete helplessness, imprisoned without any hope of freeing ourselves from bondage to sin. Romans 6:17-18 says that before Christ we were slaves to sin, that is, we were not voluntary servants who granted or withdrew our obedience to sin based on our own whims so much as we were forced to obey sin’s injunctions like a slave would. For a volunteer, his or her will is preeminent and instrumental in their actions, for the slave his or her will is of no consequence. What they would like to do has no bearing on what they must do and will do because they are slaves to someone else. The good news is that Christ has freed us from sin and made us slaves to righteousness (verse 18). Verse 10 of Romans 5 says: “For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God through the death of His Son, much more, having been reconciled, we shall be saved by His life.” Our imprisonment to sin meant that Christ died for us not while we were his friends, but while we were still his foes. Before he saved us, we were indeed prisoners to being the villain.

3 Because he has sent me. Christians are “sent ones.” That means we did not send ourselves. And because we did not send ourselves, we do not get the credit for whatever work we do while we are sent; the one who sent us does. When a convict on death row is granted a last-minute stay from the execution chamber by the governor, the convict does not make the warden who comes to halt the execution process the object of his gratitude. He gives thanks to the governor whose authority the warden was under and bound to. So it is with us. We are under the authority of another. And like the warden, we are not the source of a man’s salvation, just an instrument in which it is carried out.

*Unless noted, all scripture quotations taken from the NASB. Copyright by The Lockman Foundation.

** The title image is taken from a 14th century manuscript of The Golden Legend, a series of hagiographies. The picture depicts the legendary St. George, of whom little is factually known, in his most legendary of acts: slaying the dragon and freeing the princess to whom the dragon was given as a human sacrifice.

When God Goes Out of His Mind Part III

“Rescue the weak and needy; deliver them out of the hand of the wicked…” Psalm 82:4.

Note: this is part three in a series of essays examining the issue of abortion biblically. Click here for part one, and here for part two. Content warning: this essay contains a graphic photo that may be unsettling for some.

The Cost of the Concubine

It has been three days of carnage. Your brothers, relatives, and friends, along with sixty-five thousand other men, lay strewn about the countryside, their bodies split open, pierced through with arrows, their heads crushed by sling stones or decapitated from their necks. You weep for their deaths and you weep because you have just won a war you never wanted to fight, one waged not against your enemies but your own countrymen. Though your eyes are clouded by tears, in your heart there is clarity—the war was right. It could have been avoided, but its avoidance would have been a grievous sin.

            Such was the state of mind of countless Hebrew men during an episode in the book of Judges. In its twentieth chapter, civil war breaks out between the tribe of Benjamin and the other tribes of Israel. It is a bloody conflict that culminates in the near extinguishment of the Benjamite tribe from among the sons of Israel. What led to such an extreme and costly tragedy? As it turns out, it was little more than the refusal of the people to bring a single crime to justice.

            In Judges 19, a Levite traveling with his concubine through Israel comes to the town of Gibeah in the territory of Benjamin; he accepts the offer of an elderly gentleman to have him and his concubine sojourn within his dwelling for the night. All appears to be well and merry as the Levite and his concubine sup and enjoy the hospitality of their host, yet unbeknownst to them, worthless men with cold hearts and burning lust have slunk out from their homes and surrounded the house. Pounding on the door, they make their presence known, along with their demand: they want the Levite brought outside so they can gang-rape him.

            There’s a bit of argumentation between the old man and the band of degenerates, but everything is settled when the Levite seizes his concubine and selfishly throws her out like like a bone to a pack of stray and rabid dogs. Until the break of dawn she is raped over and over again with such violence that when they are finally finished with her, she staggers back to the house, collapses in its doorway, and breathes her last. When the morning comes, the Levite, finding her dead, takes her back home. We are told:

29 When he entered his house, he took a knife and laid hold of his concubine and cut her in twelve pieces, limb by limb, and sent her throughout the territory of Israel. 30 All who saw it said, “Nothing like this has ever happened or been seen from the day when the sons of Israel came up from the land of Egypt to this day. Consider it, take counsel and speak up!”
(Judges 19:29-30)*

            What the men of Gibeah did was so ghastly and wicked that even after cutting the woman into twelve separate pieces, the tribes could examine the portion of her body sent to them and ascertain by looking at it that she had been the victim of unfathomable abuse. The crime galvanizes the entire nation to unite as one man and seek justice for the gang-raped and murdered concubine. The allied tribes send a message to the tribe of Benjamin: “What is this wickedness that has taken place among you? Now then, deliver up the men, the worthless fellows in Gibeah, that we may put them to death and remove this wickedness from Israel” (Judges 20:12-13).

            The request was a reasonable one that the tribe of Benjamin themselves should have been eager to carry out. What kind of people would not want to see swift justice dealt out to those worthless men, let alone tolerate people of that sort dwelling among them? Inexplicably, however, the tribe of Benjamin refuses; they decide to protect the men of Gibeah and gloss over their misdeeds, taking up arms to fight against the rest of the nation in the process. With civil war looming, why didn’t the rest of Israel just back down? Why not just leave the Benjamites alone? What the men of Gibeah did was beyond horrendous, but was avenging the mistreatment and murder of one life worth the spilled blood of thousands of others?

“The Laborer of Gibeah Offering Hospitality by Pieter de Grebber

            The fact of the matter is, the request made by the tribes was not only a reasonable request, it was a necessary one. They needed to put those men of Gibeah to death. It was the only way to, as they said, “remove this wickedness from Israel.” As we saw last time, God requires justice for the shedding of innocent blood. Bloodshed brings bloodguilt, and bloodguilt can only be atoned for by bloodshed.  When a people fail to render justice for bloodshed, they too become marked with bloodguilt. In this manner, a nation becomes quickly polluted with blood and their land defiled with wicked abominations. Injustice and inaction mix together to form a deadly brew that poisons entire societies. God had made it clear in the Torah that when a nation becomes defiled, ruinous calamities from his own hand are not far behind. So the rest of the tribes really didn’t have a choice in the matter. Even if they were not driven by holy outrage and a zeal to carry out the LORD’s ordinances, they would have been disobeying at their own peril. The price for failing to pursue justice is very high indeed. Yet, as Judges 19-21 shows us, that does not mean the price for pursuing justice will be cheap. It can, as we shall see, be quite costly.

Clean Hands, Clear Eyes

            As followers of Christ, we must know what to do when faced with the shedding of innocent blood. For his namesake, and for the sake of our souls that will one day stand before his throne for judgment (1 Peter 1:17), we must know exactly what is required of us. This is true of all forms of bloodshed, but especially so of abortion, since it is without contest the greatest source of blood-pollution in our nation and many other nations of the world today. If God destroys entire societies over the shedding of innocent blood, then we are in urgent need of having a divinely-prescribed response.

            The twenty-first chapter of Deuteronomy provides a good starting place to understand what is required of us. It says:

 “If a slain person is found lying in the open country in the land which the Lord your God gives you to possess, and it is not known who has struck him, then your elders and your judges shall go out and measure the distance to the cities which are around the slain one. It shall be that the city which is nearest to the slain man, that is, the elders of that city, shall take a heifer of the herd, which has not been worked and which has not pulled in a yoke; and the elders of that city shall bring the heifer down to a valley with running water, which has not been plowed or sown, and shall break the heifer’s neck there in the valley. Then the priests, the sons of Levi, shall come near, for the Lord your God has chosen them to serve Him and to bless in the name of the Lord; and every dispute and every assault shall be settled by them. All the elders of that city which is nearest to the slain man shall wash their hands over the heifer whose neck was broken in the valley; and they shall answer and say, ‘Our hands did not shed this blood, nor did our eyes see it. Forgive Your people Israel whom You have redeemed, O Lord, and do not place the guilt of innocent blood in the midst of Your people Israel.’ And the bloodguiltiness shall be forgiven them. So you shall remove the guilt of innocent blood from your midst, when you do what is right in the eyes of the Lord.
(Deuteronomy 21:1-9)

            Here the Lord details how the Israelites are to free themselves from the bloodguilt of an unsolvable crime. They know that there has been a transgressor in their midst but they have no way of bringing him or her to justice. Hence, the usual form of atonement, which involves shedding the perpetrator’s blood, cannot be done. In this case, a heifer is killed—perhaps as a substitute for the life of the unknown assailant—and the elders and Levites intercede on behalf of the nation, asking for mercy and forgiveness over the blood that has been shed.

            This passage provides many principles on how a people are to handle bloodguilt, but for our purposes, we shall draw our attention to the statement made by the elders in verse seven. To have their land freed from the guilt of shed blood, the elders, who stand as representatives for the entire community, had to be able to truthfully confess two things: one, that they did not shed the blood; and two, that they did not see it. Not only did they have to claim abstention from the act; they had to profess a lack of knowledge as to its going on. They could be neither actors nor witnesses to the deed. Then and only then would the bloodguiltiness be forgiven them.1

Justice and Divine Vengeance Pursuing Crime by Pierre-Paul Prud’hon

            It is easy to see why this is the case. If they were witnesses to the shedding of innocent blood and did not try to stop it, or, being unable to stop it, did nothing afterward to bring the transgressor to justice, they would be complicit in the bloodshed. What their eyes saw demanded a response from them. In this case, their failure to participate in the act does not absolve them because their failure to intervene in the act condemns them. Clean hands do not absolve you of slack hands when your eyes witness evil. Remember the reaction of the tribes of Israel when they saw the dead concubine’s body? The witness requires a response. For those who witnessed but did not participate, their hands were soiled with blood not by what they did, but by what they refrained from doing.2

            This joint innocence of hands and eyes hearkens back to the principles of bloodshed elucidated within the previous essay in this series, which detailed how the sin of bloodshed can be committed through active and intentional participation or acts of negligence. In one case, it is an action that brings bloodguilt; in the other it is inaction. Bloodguilt comes both from committing murder and from failing to bring the act of murder to justice. But as we see here and as we shall see from other scriptures as well, it also comes from failing to intervene. This is because the pursuit of justice is not simply something done after an evil is committed; it also involves what individuals do while an evil is being committed.

Christian Bloodguilt

            The straightforward implication of Deuteronomy  21:7 is that if you knew that the shedding of innocent blood was going on and you did nothing about it, you have bloodguilt. If it has not dawned on the reader yet, let it be made explicit: many people who believe abortion is wrong and who recoil at the thought of ever doing it have the bloodguilt of abortion on their hands. This tragically includes many people within the Church. Few, if any of us in the Church can say, “Our eyes did not see it,” even if hopefully most of us can say, “Our hands did not shed this blood.” Too many of us have mistaken moral disgust at the shedding of innocent blood and a personal commitment not to engage in it as absolution in the matter. But unlike the elders, we cannot wash our hands over the slain heifer; we are not unaware of what is going on.

            We know there are centers all over this nation where people are lawfully murdering their children every day. We know that justice is not being sought for those murders. We know that right now, there are politicians in our state and nation’s capital using their power to ensure that the slaughter of unborn children remains unabated and unhindered and even broadened in scope. We know that there are corporations and various organizations pouring in millions of dollars every year to ensure this legal, systemic apparatus of murder is well-funded and successful. The question is, what are we doing with all this knowledge? Sadly, the answer for too many of us is—not much.

            Do we feel the weight of this? Or even now, are we so lethargic in heart that we cannot be stirred to conviction? Dearest Christ-follower, mark deep within your soul: bloodguilt is not just on those who shed blood, but on those who do nothing to halt it and who do not labor for the fruition of justice.

            The first order of business for the people of God, then—in seeking to respond rightly to the shedding of innocent blood—is to deal with our own bloodguilt. We must repent for the ways our hands are stained. For some it is the confession of both having had an abortion (directly as the mother, or indirectly as the father of the child, or as someone who encouraged or pressured a woman to do so) and of not seeking justice for the unborn; for others, it will simply be a repentance of their inaction and complacency.

             But let not those guilty of only the latter and not the former be preoccupied with whatever great measure of guilt they suppose those who have had an abortion carry. A man about to stand trial for murdering one person does not reason that he shall be acquitted due to another having killed two, and he would be foolish to plead for mercy by pointing out the greater severity of the other man’s crime. One does not escape dreadful consequences by comparing another man’s bloodguilt with his own. So it is with us. In the fear of God and with genuine anguish over own bloodguilt, we must rend our hearts and not our garments and confess to God that our eyes have seen and we are guilty of inaction. We must not look firstly to others and what they have or have not done; the first task is to look at ourselves until our heart breaks.

An Inescapable Commission

            Our repentance in this matter is not simply to absolve ourselves of all the abortions that have already happened in our nation; it is just as much to ready us to adopt a posture of action that will prevent more bloodguilt from being heaped on our heads. As John the prophet exhorts us, true repentance bears fruit (Luke 3:8). It is not just grief over past behavior; it is a change in behavior for the present moment and the future. And in our present moment, unborn children are being slaughtered every day.

            In this regard, Proverbs 24:11-12 are key verses that show us what the response of God’s people to the horror of abortion is supposed to be—and what God will do to those who do not respond.

11 Deliver those who are being taken away to death,
And those who are staggering to slaughter, Oh hold them back.
12 If you say, “See, we did not know this,”
Does He not consider it who weighs the hearts?
And does He not know it who keeps your soul?
And will He not render to man according to his work?
(Proverbs 24:11-12)

            We know that everyday unborn children are being taken away to death. And God makes clear in that situation that it is not enough to just say we did not personally participate in the killing. What God requires of us when we see people staggering to slaughter is to hold them back. To intervene. To get right in the middle of their march toward the cliff’s edge, dig in our feet, and with arms spread out, halt the advance. To stand between the victim and the killer and their instruments of death and say, “Not on my watch!”

            When we see a Planned Parenthood clinic on a street block in our city; when we see councilmen or senators or mayors seeking to keep the murder of the unborn legal; when see pastors blaspheming the name of Christ by saying God is pro-choice; God has a word for us: “Deliver those who are being taken away to death.” There are certain commissions for the people of God that are automatic. When we see a group of people being taken away to the slaughter, in that very moment, God commissions us to be a deliverer. When the lives of innocent people are at stake you don’t get to decide whether you opt in or not—you’re in. Taking action on a situation like abortion, then, is not a nice and noble option; it is a sacred duty, bound up with our identity as one whom by the blood of the lamb is righteous. Inaction is off the table. Because we have seen, we must act. To do otherwise is to be under the bloodguilt that pollutes nations and brings God’s horrible and mighty wrath.

Blind & Far Away

            Of course, it would be very convenient for us if we could say that our eyes have not seen the evils of abortion. If knowledge necessitates action, then ignorance would seem perhaps to validate inaction, and many people not wanting the burden placed upon them of having to do something will be tempted to claim ignorance in these matters. This is precisely what verse twelve is getting at. God recognizes that there will be people who will want to claim, “See, we did not know this.” But to uttering words like this we are warned: “Does He not consider it who weighs the hearts? And does He not know it who keeps your soul? And will He not render to man according to his work?” In effect, God is saying, “Don’t pull that on me—I won’t fall for it!” He will see right through our protestations of ignorance and he will judge us for doing nothing. If we say, “Our eyes didn’t see it,” he will say, “No—your eyes did.”

No. 281 of the “Sonderkommando Photographs,” pictures secretly taken and smuggled out of the Nazi Auschwitz concentration camp. After being led to the gas chamber, Jewish victims were stripped of hair, jewelry, and teeth fillings, then cremated. When the crematoria were full, bodies were burned in outside pits as depicted in this photograph.

            The pattern of thought outlined in verse twelve is unfortunately common to history and human nature. In the face of every ongoing atrocity, there has been a temptation for people to blind themselves to the horror of what is really going on so that they are not faced with the responsibility of doing something about it. This has proven to be true with slavery and with the lynchings and other Jim Crow injustices of the South, as well as the Holocaust and other genocides throughout the 20th century. People within the nations those atrocities were committed too often looked away or feigned ignorance. Why?

            The sad and simple reason people do not want to do anything about the shedding of innocent blood is that humans have a tendency towards selfishness, and an impactful response to the shedding of innocent blood will often not just be inconvenient, it will often time be costly— sometimes to a tragic and stupendously large degree. Such was the case of the concubine: a righteous, God-honoring response cost the nation a civil war. While the cost of pursuing justice may rarely reach such agonizing heights, standing up to an evil that has firmly entrenched itself within society is never a walk in the park. It breeds fierce opposition, it is laborious, and above all else, it requires self-sacrifice—not just of time, but of resources and often one’s reputation as well; at times it endangers oneself and one’s family, and may ultimately result in the high price of their life and your own. No wonder many try to pretend they don’t see what is going on. The glory and nobility embedded within the word “justice” are not tasted of easily, for all that we romanticize its pursuit and for all the casual veneration we bestow upon it; it is not a cheaply worn glamour; its glory is a Christ-shaped one—one wrought by suffering. And if there is one thing humans are tempted to loathe more than the suffering of others, it is their own.

            As it pertains to abortion, this willful blindness does not take the shape of outright denial of its existence—as if one had lived under a rock their whole life and had never heard what abortion was. Rather, it is accomplished by means of moral obfuscation; of stripping abortion of its moral horror and turning it into something ambiguous and complex so that a response against it is no longer required—or by simply appealing to the sheer normality of it. It is hard for the human heart to remain horrified by what is commonplace, especially when there is ample sand for which to bury our heads in and we are able to go about our day to day lives without having to think about it or see it.

            This obfuscation is found in the litany of everyday expressions and rebuttals surrounding the issue of abortion: “You know, it’s not that black and white; whose going to support the mother? What if she cannot afford it?” Or, “What about the lack of availability of contraceptives? What about maternity leave?” Or, “No woman comes to this decision easily,”—as if the economic hardship or the intensity of the deliberative process somehow renders the moral status of killing another innocent human being uncertain. By drowning the issue of abortion in a sea of nuances, we attempt to stop the heart of its diabolism that beats loud and clear so we don’t have to listen to it. We turn simple arithmetic—a concise syllogism of moral logic2—into a calculus problem, long and difficult to solve3. We twist it into something our consciences can feel justified to ignore.

            We see this desire to ignore injustice and therefore avoid responsibility to take action in the parable of the Good Samaritan. If you remember in Luke 10, Jesus tells the story of a man robbed and severely beaten while traveling to Jericho. He is left wounded and bleeding and “half dead” on the road. When a priest later travels down the road, he sees this man who has just suffered a horrible crime and decides to pass by him by crossing over to the other side. A Levite later comes and does the same. What were they doing? They were trying to create as much distance from the man and themselves as they could so as to avoid the responsibility of helping him and the guilt of not doing anything about it. If you recall from Deuteronomy 21, it was the city nearest to the slain victim whose elders had to sacrifice the heifer. Here, both the priest and Levite go out of their way (literally) to artificially create less proximity to an injustice. They did want not the burden a righteous response would bring. The very people who were supposed to represent God to their nation proved themselves to have a disposition contrary to his heart that burns with compassion and justice.

            When we scroll by social-media posts about abortion without stopping to ponder the horror of it all; when we try to console ourselves that there are many legitimate causes to be part of and of course, we can’t be part of them all; when we allow ourselves to be deluded by society’s arguments in defiance of the clear weight of scriptures so that abortion is transformed into a murky, morally ambiguous subject, we do the same thing as the Levite and priest. We create distance for ourselves that would not be there if we walked truthfully and allowed ourselves to see the bloody injustice on our path lying right at our feet. We claim blindness to avoid God’s commission of intervention and deliverance—and this God sees.

Love is the Price We Pay

            Inaction in the face of injustice was one of the main and abiding concerns of the Old Testament prophets, and the repeated failure to come to the aid of the afflicted and mistreated was one of the main reasons God ultimately decided to judge the nations of Israel and Judah. Prayer, worship, and forms of religious ceremony however rigorously undertaken did not produce pleasure in the heart of God but rather exasperation and disgust in his people when they were done in concert with idleness towards injustice. Amos reveals the heart of the Lord when he declares by his Spirit:

21 “I hate, I reject your festivals,
Nor do I delight in your solemn assemblies.
22 “Even though you offer up to Me burnt offerings and your grain offerings,
I will not accept them;
And I will not even look at the peace offerings of your fatlings.
23 “Take away from Me the noise of your songs;
I will not even listen to the sound of your harps.
24 “But let justice roll down like waters
And righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.
(Amos 5:21-24)

            God’s call for his people was to pursue justice with such vigor and dedication that justice would seem to be inundating the land like a rainstorm that soaks the ground. They were to contend for righteousness to manifest in their nation with the constancy and power of a river that never stops flowing. This was not to be done in place of their gatherings of prayer, worship and instruction, but rather pursued in tandem with those other forms of devotion. All of them were to be included holistically in a life poured out to God in an act of spiritual worship. Justice was never meant to be an optional expression of a godly man or woman’s devotion, it was always meant to be part of the integrated whole of their obedience and loving service to Christ.

8He has told you, O man, what is good;
And what does the Lord require of you
But to do justice, to love kindness,
And to walk humbly with your God?
(Micah 6:8)


17 Learn to do good;
Seek justice,
Reprove the ruthless,
Defend the orphan,
Plead for the widow.
(Isaiah 1:17)

            What then, as it pertains to abortion, is God looking for? The seeking and doing of justice is required of us—but what does that look like? The particulars of pursuing justice and intervening in the lives of the unborn will be chronicled in more depth at a later time— the ways both biblical and practical we can get involved—but the truth is, while there are concrete steps we can and should take, the exact expression of justice over the issue of abortion will look different for each person. What matters more than the actions themselves is the spirit and attributes that attend them.

            In Luke 10, Jesus contrasts the deeds of the priest and Levite (those who shirk from their God-given duty of pursuing justice) with the actions of the Good Samaritan.

33 But a Samaritan, who was on a journey, came upon him; and when he saw him, he felt compassion34 and came to him and bandaged up his wounds, pouring oil and wine on them; and he put him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn and took care of him. 35 On the next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper and said, ‘Take care of him; and whatever more you spend, when I return I will repay you.
(Luke 10:33-35)

            Notice first, that the Samaritan was on a journey; he was not wandering about in his spare time looking to be a good-doer, he was involved in conducting the affairs of his life just as much as you and I; his actions were therefore inconvenient and interruptive to his daily life. Second, his actions were not done with dry or begrudging obedience to the dictates of his religion; they were deeds animated by love. Third, his actions were costly; they cost him his time and money. And here it is important that we mark the character of his cost. How much did the Samaritan pay? As much as was needed for a full recovery. The Samaritan did not tell the innkeeper, “Well, I’ve done my part, now it’s up to you to bear some of the cost and see to it that he is restored.” On the contrary, the Samaritan’s commitment was to see it through to completion.

The Good Samaritan by Ferdinand Hodler

            Our response to injustice should be likewise. It must cost us something; something of ourselves must be sacrificed. It must be rooted in love and seen through to the end—for that is the type of cost love pays; love perseveres, it stays constant and implacable, it gives as much as is needed to satisfy its aim. Love never quits, and as such, it never fails. In the final estimation, the pursuit of true justice looks like the one who pursued it perfectly: Christ our Lord. Before the cross, untold billions stood as enemies of God. Mankind’s embrace of sin constituted a heinous rebellion against the Lord fully deserving of devastating recompense. How to right this cosmic injustice? It would have been wholly just if Christ had condemned the whole of humanity to everlasting torment for rebellion against his Father. Instead, he rendered justice by offering himself as a guilt offering; he was pierced for our transgressions, he let the Father crush him for our iniquities (Isaiah 53:5-6,10). His pursuit of justice was one of self-sacrifice, and what can those of us who are truly grateful for it do but humbly strive to walk in the same way?

            In the end, we must realize our failure to pursue justice is a failure to be like Christ. He intervened at a great cost to himself to hold us back from the slaughter of sin and the second death—even though he would have been just in letting us perish. How much more then, should we be willing to heed his call to prevent the innocent from perishing and obey his command to see justice rain down upon the earth?  In our sins, we were just as helpless as unborn children before the forceps and knife of the abortionist, and God intervened and rescued us. Dare we tell him in return that we cannot be bothered to help rescue the unborn? Like the civil war Israel fought to avenge the wickedness of Gibeah, pursuing justice for the unborn and intervening for their deliverance may prove costly, but whatever its price, it will never come close to the price Christ paid for our deliverance and the satisfying of the Father’s perfect justice.

            For the Christian, repentance is not just the exchange of one set of actions for another, repentance is ultimately the realignment of the self to its death and the imitation of Christ. All our pursuits of justice must start and end here; our throwing off of inaction and a robust commitment to deliverance and justice-seeking must take shape within our commitment to be like Christ. With renewed adoration for who he is and what he has done, let us ask the Lord to conform us to his image and ready us to be vessels of deliverance and justice for the unborn in whatever way he so desires. If we pray with sincerity, there is no doubt he will give us what we ask.

Notes

1 For this observation, along with so many others in this essay and the last, I am heavily indebted to John Ensor and his book Innocent Blood, which succinctly, powerfully—and, most important—biblically, details bloodshed and the Christian response to it. His thoughts have proved to be a large tributary to the river of my own in developing a biblical perspective on abortion.

2 In judges 21, after the civil war had been completed, the Israelites inquired if there were any among them who had not come to fight against Benjamin. It was found that none of the inhabitants of Jabesh-Gilead had fought. They had witnessed the evil but had not responded to it. Accordingly, Israel went up and slaughtered every man, child, and woman who had relations with a man. See Judges 21:5-11.

3 As referenced in part one of this series, Scott Klussendorf gives a succinct syllogism concerning the grave immorality of abortion: “Premise 1: It is wrong to intentionally kill innocent human beings. Premise 2: Abortion intentionally kills innocent human beings. Conclusion: Therefore, abortion is morally wrong.”

4 This is not to say that issues arising from abortion or the issues that feed it are without complexity. How to help an unemployed, single mother of two, with nothing more than a high school education, who has been abandoned by her boyfriend and the father of her third and currently gestating child is never a straightforward or quick endeavor; she is the victim of a confluence of social ills, each one on its own dauntingly difficult to address at a systemic level. Solving the question of abortion’s morality is an easy one; solving all the societal difficulties and pressures that may tempt one into having an abortion is a different matter. But the difficulty of entrenched structural maladies has no bearing on the wickedness of the act of abortion itself and the corresponding moral imperative to intervene and stop it.
Our society is currently plagued by a morass of sexual addictions and dysfunctions that have no doubt lent themselves to the sickening high statistics of harassment, rape and abuse in this country; but no one dares suggest—unless they want to subject themselves to near-universal outrage and scorn—that the prevalence of these addictions and dysfunctions in any shape or form excuses or blunts the incalculable evil of rape and sexual abuse. Cultural and societal environments can make it easier or harder for different evils to grow, but one cannot use the climate to misclassify the fruit it helps bear. Instead, we should use the ease or difficulty in which immorality grows to diagnose the moral health of the culture itself. Utilizing this approach, it is beyond plain that our nation and society is desperately sick.

*Unless noted, all scripture quotations taken from the NASB. Copyright by The Lockman Foundation.

When God Goes Out of His Mind Part II

There are six things which the Lord hates, yes, seven which are an abomination to Him: haughty eyes, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood…” (Proverbs 6:16-17)

Yahweh’s Portraits

Note: this is part two in a series of essays examining the issue of abortion biblically. For part one, click here.

“Let there be light.” If creation is likened to a symphonic composition, then these words are the grandest of overtures. The earth is shapeless chaos, all “welter and waste,” as Robert Alter translates it, darkness is spread over the primeval deep and then—God.  With one utterance of his voice comes a burst of a quintillion rays of light, a sudden flare of brilliance that forever cleaves darkness from its totality and omnipresence. The One that was there in the beginning because he precedes it has just set in motion the nascent universe. He is just getting started.

            The sky is torn asunder from the waters with another word from his mouth. The roiling seas are bounded and stone and dirt and sand stretch out over the face of the planet. Green spreads like wildfire, forests and meadows and jungles and swamps sprouting up, space is jeweled with stars and swirling planets, the seas are filled with rainbowed coral and swimming life, the clouds wander slow as avian creatures flit, pinwheel and swoop beneath their white-domed bodies, and the earth teems with the skittering and slithering of creeping creatures, the stalk of paws and the prance of hooves—this panoply of life marching on through the progression of endless day and night in the slow turn of the earth.

            And then—the culmination. The long-anticipated crescendo of string and brass and cymbal. The final set of slashes from the conductor’s wand. The stroke before the artist puts down the brush and the writer his pen. All this unfathomable display of power has been buildup, all this marvelous glory-work the swell and rise of the symphony toward the climax before the Almighty rests from his labor. In all this dazzling display of life and creative genius, God still has one last crowning masterpiece to make. On the sixth day, his voice rings out:

           26 “Let Us make man in Our image, according to Our likeness; and let them rule over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the sky and over the cattle and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.”
(Genesis 1:26)*

            As stated at the conclusion in part one of this series, in creating mankind, God as the master artist has fashioned billions of unique portraits of himself. As created beings, humans display the glory of God in a special way. Every other created thing brings glory to God as the Creator by testifying of his power and genius. The blooming desert rose, the shimmering aurora borealis, the enormity and grace of the blue whale, the spine of Himalayan mountains across Asia—all point to a creator powerful and wise. Humans are different. We too testify of God’s power like the rest of creation, but we also image him. We bear resemblance to God himself. Here we tread on great mysteries too wonderful for us to fully comprehend. To say too little or too much about this is to risk blasphemy. Though we are but dust, in our nature is something inescapably divine that testifies: God—God is like this.

            The mind cannot fully understand the stature God has given to mankind. In a sense, God has staked the reputation of his beauty on us.1 Imagine, if you would, meeting someone whose beauty you so absolutely adore, you are compelled with great urgency and emotional force to show the whole world how marvelous they are, and the only way you get to do that is by drawing a portrait of them. So much would depend on getting that portrait right. It would have to capture and clearly show the beauties of that person in such a way that the observer is immediately drawn in by what he or she sees and would testify with their own lips that the person in the portrait is beautiful, the beauty being self-evident. In a way, that is what God did with us. He chose humanity to bear his image to the rest of creation and to one another.

            Through the fall, this imaging has been tarnished—but not destroyed. It is like a painting at the Louvre that has been attacked with dark ink by a vandal; the fullness of what it was is gone, but amid the inkblots, sections of its brilliance and beauty still shine through. God’s image is still borne by every human being who strides across the stage of existence.

Imago Dei & Iustitia

             In Genesis 9, God makes a covenant with Noah and his descendants where this image-bearing reality of humanity is again noted. God says:

3“Every moving thing that is alive shall be food for you; I give all to you, as I gave the green plant. 4Only you shall not eat flesh with its life, that is, its blood. 5Surely I will require your lifeblood; from every beast I will require it. And from every man, from every man’s brother I will require the life of man. 6“Whoever sheds man’s blood, by man his blood shall be shed, for in the image of God He made man.”
(Genesis 9:3-6)

            Here we see God separating mankind from the rest of creation. God tells Noah and his descendants they may shed the blood of any creature they want and eat it, just so long as they do not ingest its blood since the life of the animal resides in it. But the blood of another man? Noah and his descendants cannot shed that, because man bears God’s image. Animals are governed by one set of rules, humans by another; one bears the image of God and the other does not2. In this passage, a principle of justice is established that whenever a human shed’s another person’s blood, that man or woman must also have their blood shed. Whoever commits murder must themselves be killed. Again, notice the reason God gives for why shedding human blood is wrong: “For in the image of God He made man.”

            The image-bearing nature of humanity is one of the fundamental tenets necessary to having a just society. As Genesis 9 reveals to us, any true understanding of justice cannot be separated from this reality theologians refer to as the imago Dei. This is true with the injustice of abortion and with bloodshed in general. Before we can begin to fathom how truly grievous the mistreatment of man is, we must grasp what he is. Throughout the ages, the individual man and woman has been treated as everything from an expendable creature whose loss of life or deprivation of liberties is of no consequence or tragedy—a cog in the machine, a nameless grunt in a king’s war—to something worthy of deification. We have viewed one another as both ants and gods. In our current cultural milieu, we have paradoxically adopted the view of man as nothing more than a highly evolved animal while at the same time heaping a largesse of self-importance upon ourselves, with our generation’s unbridled narcissism the subject of many dismayed sociologists and psychologists. As many philosophers and thinkers have noted, we have bestowed ourselves with a dignity that demands fair treatment and respect for human rights, while simultaneously unfettering ourselves from the ontological realities that justify it (the existence of God). Sooner or later our moral and logical incoherence is going to crack. We will either return to more solid moorings or embrace the terrifying conclusions of our atheistic logic.

From The Creation of Adam by Michaelangelo

            Man is neither God nor ant. Our worth and value are great but they are not self-derived. What we are is completely bound up in what we have been created to be by the Creator. He has chosen us to bear his image, and since he is the most beautiful being in all of existence, the purpose of humanity is to reflect and emanate God’s glory; we are to be the clearest picture of what God is—outside of God himself. What then, could be more heinous than to kill such beings? As we noted last time, to assert the right to take portraits of God and destroy them is to embody the nemesis of beauty itself.

            In any culture, the outrage directed at the destruction of any given thing is commensurate with the value of the thing destroyed. A driver distracted by his phone is given little or no umbrage for running over a squirrel; he is vilified if it causes him not to see the toddler running after the stray ball in the road. We barely notice the crude graffiti sprayed on the walls of the underpass, yet we would be incensed were we to find it defacing the city’s statue of MLK or sprayed across the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. How great, then, should our outrage be when one of God’s image-bearers is destroyed? If creation is a symphony, then to kill another human being is to bring in a hundred chalkboards and rake them with fingernails at the climax.

            All true justice is God-centered. True justice is not firstly man getting what he deserves or is owed, it is God getting what he is owed as God. We see this reality manifest within the words of Genesis 9 where God is in effect telling humanity: “When you shed another human being’s blood without cause you are not treating me rightly, because a human bears my image, and by killing him or her you dishonor me.” At its heart, the murder of another human is a glory-of-God issue, not a glory-of-man issue. The concept of the imago Dei becomes twisted in all sorts of ways when the dignity and value of a human being is separated from a greater emphasis on the reality from which human dignity derives from and is contingent upon: God’s glory and his surpassing worthiness. Indeed, far too many people acknowledge man’s image-bearing qualities in a decidedly anthropocentric manner. In doing so, they run the risk of committing the grave sin outlined in Romans 1 of exchanging, “the glory of the incorruptible God for an image in the form of corruptible man,” and worshipping and serving, “the creature rather than the Creator, who is blessed forever” and as such stand under the wrath of God (Romans 1:18-25). The fundamental flaw of so many of the justice movements today—which prevent them from being authentic pursuits of justice—is the man-centered nature of their endeavors. The pursuit of true justice starts from the recognition of God’s glory, and has as its end this recognition restored. As we explore more deeply the sin of bloodshed, we must keep this besmirching of God’s glory front and center.

Bloodshed & Bloodguilt

            We can summarize the principle of justice outlined in Genesis 9 as follows: bloodshed brings bloodguilt, and bloodguilt can only be atoned for by bloodshed. This is the best way to sum up what is meant when God says, “whoever sheds man’s blood, by man his blood shall be shed.” As we shall see, this principle is reaffirmed many times throughout the scriptures.

            It is worth noting before delving further that not all forms of human bloodshed are sins that incur bloodguilt. This is evident within the principle of justice concerning bloodshed itself, since to bring justice for shedding a man’s blood a man’s blood must also be shed; and were this prohibition absolute, those who undertook the execution of justice would themselves be guilty, trapping all humanity in a circular prison of guilt with those who did not execute justice guilty of not rendering it, and those that did finding themselves guilty of an injustice of their own. But as we are told in Romans 13, civil authorities wield the power of the sword and do so as, “servants of God.” War does not necessarily bring bloodguilt, nor do legitimate cases of self-defense or accidents, and God himself sets up cities of refuge where those who have killed human life in such instances may escape from those who in the heat of vengeance would want to retaliate in kind ( see Exodus 21:12-14, Deuteronomy 19:1-13 and Numbers 35:6-28).

Fight with Cudgels by Francisco Goya

            Broadly speaking, the sin of bloodshed is committed in two ways. The first, is through active and intentional participation. It is the breaking of the sixth commandment in Exodus 20:13 that says, “You shall not murder.” It is committed by those who “act presumptuously toward his neighbor, so as to kill him craftily” (Exodus 21:14), and by those who push another in hatred or strike them down in enmity (Numbers 35:21), and by those who conspire and aid those who do it (Proverbs 1:10-16).

            The second way is through acts of negligence. In Exodus 21, the law states: “If an ox gores a man or a woman to death, the ox shall surely be stoned and its flesh shall not be eaten; but the owner of the ox shall go unpunished. If, however, an ox was previously in the habit of goring and its owner has been warned, yet he does not confine it and it kills a man or a woman, the ox shall be stoned and its owner also shall be put to death.” (Exodus 21:28). In Deuteronomy 22:8, God says, “When you build a new house, you shall make a parapet for your roof, so that you will not bring bloodguilt on your house if anyone falls from it.”

            Inaction is itself an action, and scriptures like these show us that certain types of inactivity can be wicked. When our recklessness leads to death, or we fail to take reasonable precautions to protect our fellow men, God holds us guilty for the loss of life. Like the crime of murder, this type of bloodguilt brings punishment in a modern society. A drunk driver who had no intention of killing anyone is still held liable for the death of the one they struck, and a daycare provider who leaves a loaded firearm within reach of a child will go to jail if that firearm is handled and discharged. Their lack of intention to kill does not absolve them from the bloodguilt; rather, bloodguilt is brought upon them from their utter lack of responsibility and sheer negligence. By leaving people blatantly in harm’s way, they are held responsible as the ones who inflicted the harm. For wrongfully causing the death of beings that bear his image, God requires the ultimate penalty from them in return. That bloodguilt is something incurred both by active and passive actions, is critical to a biblical understanding of justice and anyone seeking righteousness for themselves and their society.

            The thirty-fifth chapter of Numbers contains several keys necessary for us to know the nature of bloodguilt and how to properly deal with bloodshed. It reads:

30 “‘If anyone kills a person, the murderer shall be put to death at the evidence of witnesses, but no person shall be put to death on the testimony of one witness. 31 Moreover, you shall not take ransom for the life of a murderer who is guilty of death, but he shall surely be put to death. 32 You shall not take ransom for him who has fled to his city of refuge, that he may return to live in the land before the death of the priest33 So you shall not pollute the land in which you are; for blood pollutes the land and no expiation can be made for the land for the blood that is shed on it, except by the blood of him who shed it. 34 You shall not defile the land in which you live, in the midst of which I dwell; for I the Lord am dwelling in the midst of the sons of Israel.’”
(Numbers 35:30-34)

            The principle set forth in Genesis 9 is here reaffirmed: bloodshed brings bloodguilt, and bloodguilt can only be atoned for by bloodshed; with the word “only” being emphasized here. God makes clear that the Israelites are not allowed to use an alternative punishment for the sin of bloodshed. A ransom, no matter how costly, will not suffice; only the shed blood of the perpetrator will do. This is how serious killing another human being is to God.

            We also learn that murder pollutes the land the blood was shed on. In other words, the sin of bloodshed does not just have a spiritually corrosive effect on the individual who is guilty of it—it affects the entire nation in which the sin was committed. Bloodshed is a communal affair. It does not just effect the victim by the loss of their life, and the murderer by the warping of their soul, and by the grief and loss brought to those who knew and loved the victim; it extends outwards into the whole community and beyond to the entire nation. When there is no proper expiation for the crime, the land and the people in it become defiled.

            One thing that must not escape our notice are the two ways a nation can be polluted by blood. The first way, of course, is by those who shed the blood. But blood pollution also comes by those who allow the shedding of innocent blood to go unmet with justice. In verses 31-33, God tells the Israelites that if they do not bring the murderer to justice, they are polluting the land with blood even though they themselves have not killed anyone; by failing to execute justice, they have in effect joined with that man or woman in polluting the land and have brought bloodguilt upon themselves.

            Here again, we see the dual nature of the sin of bloodshed. It is slightly different in this scenario, but the essence is the same. One part of bloodguilt comes from doing something, the other part comes from neglecting to do something. Both bring the sin of bloodshed upon a people and pollute the land.

The Doom of Defilement

            A spiritually defiled land certainly does not sound like the most pleasant of realities, but just how dire are the consequences of a land that has been polluted by blood? In Leviticus 18, the terrifying answer is given to us.

20 You shall not have intercourse with your neighbor’s wife, to be defiled with her. 21 You shall not give any of your offspring to offer them to Molech, nor shall you profane the name of your God; I am the Lord. 22 You shall not lie with a male as one lies with a female; it is an abomination. 23 Also you shall not have intercourse with any animal to be defiled with it, nor shall any woman stand before an animal to mate with it; it is a perversion. 24 ‘Do not defile yourselves by any of these things; for by all these the nations which I am casting out before you have become defiled. 25 For the land has become defiled, therefore I have brought its punishment upon it, so the land has spewed out its inhabitants. 26 But as for you, you are to keep My statutes and My judgments and shall not do any of these abominations, neither the native, nor the alien who sojourns among you 27 (for the men of the land who have been before you have done all these abominations, and the land has become defiled); 28 so that the land will not spew you out, should you defile it, as it has spewed out the nation which has been before you
(Leviticus 18:20-28).

            As they are readying themselves to enter the promise land, God informs the Israelites that the current inhabitants they are about to conquer have been given over to judgment because of all the abominations they have committed; God warns Israel that the same fate will befall them if they practice those things. Because of those abominations, the land of the Canaanites, Hivites, Jebusites etc. became defiled, and forced God as the one who is the arbiter of justice to bring punishment upon them. The land “spewed” out these gentile nations, and we are later told what that spewing looked like: “In the cities of these peoples that the Lord your God is giving you as an inheritance, you shall not leave alive anything that breathes” (Deut. 20:16). “Thus Joshua struck all the land, the hill country and the Negev and the lowland and the slopes and all their kings. He left no survivor, but he utterly destroyed all who breathed, just as the Lord, the God of Israel, had commanded” (Josh. 10:40).

            What were these abominations that led to such a ruthless and terrifying destruction?  The whole eighteenth chapter of Leviticus (including the verses preceding the section we have read from) is basically one long list of various sins of sexual immorality and perversion. Then, right in the midst of this litany of sexual sins we are told in verse 21, “You shall not give any of your offspring to offer them to Molech.” Alongside gross sexual immorality, we are told that the abomination of child sacrifice—the murdering of children—is what brought a “spewing” from the land.

            Unfortunately, the Israelites failed to heed God’s warning. In Psalm 106 we are told concerning the nation:

34 They did not destroy the peoples,
As the Lord commanded them,
35 But they mingled with the nations
And learned their practices,
36 And served their idols,
Which became a snare to them.
37 They even sacrificed their sons and their daughters to the demons,
38 And shed innocent blood,
The blood of their sons and their daughters,
Whom they sacrificed to the idols of Canaan;
And the land was polluted with the blood.
39 
Thus they became unclean in their practices,
And played the harlot in their deeds.
(Psalm 106:34-39)

            What God described in Numbers 35 became a reality: the land became polluted with innocent blood. And the victims were not adults but the most helpless and defenseless among them—their children. The land was polluted with the blood of infants3. What happens next should not come as a surprise.

40 Therefore the anger of the Lord was kindled against His people
And He abhorred His inheritance.
41 Then He gave them into the hand of the nations,
And those who hated them ruled over them.
42 Their enemies also oppressed them,
And they were subdued under their power.
(Psalm 106:40-42).

            When a nation pollutes itself with innocent blood, it is only a matter of time before grave and unspeakable calamities are brought down upon it. This is the reality that God sets forth in his holy word. He is a God of justice and his word cannot be broken—he will be true to it. For any Christian that would seek the welfare of the nation in which he or she resides, keeping the land free from the pollution of innocent blood should be a top priority. To claim otherwise is to engage in folly and lose one’s saltiness (Matthew 5:13). God’s glory must remain the highest priority in seeking justice, but the horrifying consequences of a nation polluted by bloodguilt provide a potent motivator for its pursuit.

“Destruction” from The Course of Empire series by Thomas Cole

American Bloodguilt

            When we look at our nation today and ask ourselves how our land is being polluted by blood, it is indisputable what is bringing bloodguilt on our nation more than anything else: the murdering of our unborn children. Abortion is the defining justice issue of our time. There is nothing that comes even close in comparison.

            To illustrate this, let us look at some recent figures of bloodshed in our nation. According to the FBI, in 2017, the United States had around 17,284 murders4. These murders are those defined in our nation as the killing of innocent human beings born and living outside of the womb; they do not reflect lives still in gestation. We must note that our society will actively seek justice for this type of killing—we will strive to find out who committed the crime, arrest them, and have them prosecuted and punished. Of these seventeen thousand plus murders, around sixty-one percent were solved; cleared by arrests or other means5. While that is good news, it also means that thirty-nine percent remained unsolved. Justice may have been sought, but it was not able to be accomplished. And sadly, there were probably unreported killings in which no justice was sought at all. Is it safe to say, then, that there is some bloodguilt on our nation through “murder” as our nation legally defines it? Sure. There is probably some.

            But now, let us look at the murder of unborn children. In that same year of 2017, according to the Guttmacher Institute, a pro-choice organization, there were approximately 862,320 abortions6. Let that staggering number of unborn children murdered in a single year sink in. Close to one million babies slaughtered and no justice brought for their deaths. There could be no justice, because those murders were legal, and in many homes across America those murders were celebrated; they were defended and lauded under a false notion of female empowerment and autonomy. Seventeen thousand cases of bloodshed where at least an attempt at expiation of the crime was made, versus the slaughter of nearly nine hundred thousand lives where no expiation was attempted—let the reader do the math and tremble.

            To understand the gravity of the bloodguilt that is in the United States, one must wrap their minds around more than just the staggering number of babies murdered every year, as outrageous as it is. What makes the issue of abortion so unique and so abominable, and an injustice set above every other injustice in our nation is the principle set forth in Numbers 35: a nation is polluted with blood not just by those who do the killing, but also by those who fail to bring justice for the ones whose blood has been shed.

            So the abortionist who performs the procedure and the woman who receives the procedure bring blood pollution to our nation; but so does the woman who stands up and says, “I have three kids and I have never had an abortion but I support my fellow woman’s right to choose.” So does the man who says, “I have never pressured my wife or my girlfriend to get an abortion but I support a woman’s right to do what she wants with her body.” God looks at all of them and says, “all of you have polluted the land with innocent blood.”

            Do we see the multiplying effect of this? Abortion spreads the pollution of blood over a nation like nothing else. Every year there are hundreds of thousands of murdered children, and if that was not abominable enough, every year there are tens of millions of Americans indifferent to their murder, or else celebrating and fighting for the right to murder them. There is nothing else that even comes close to this. What other form of bloodshed is legal in our country? What other form of bloodshed exists where no justice is sought, but is rather defended and proudly lauded?

This photo, along with the one below the title, are works by lunar caustic. CC BY 2.0

            Much of the Church’s indifference to abortion springs from this failure to understand bloodguilt and how it spreads in a society. People believe their hands are clean because they themselves have not shed blood. They do not understand that failing to pursue justice for bloodshed brings bloodguilt as well. Many impassioned voices have risen in recent years to speak out against unjust police killings, and while the cultural narrative around this issue is a topic of great controversy, it must be unequivocally stated that where legitimately unjust shootings have indeed taken place, the pursuit of justice is a good and necessary thing. Black or white, young or old, the killing of an innocent human being who bears the imago Dei is a deeply evil action and an assault against God himself. But for anyone who tries to speak out on the issue of shedding innocent blood or any other injustice in America and yet is silent, or even worse, supportive of abortion, there is only one thing to be said of them: innocent blood is on their hands. They themselves have polluted the land with blood. They are not seekers of justice, but purveyors of its antithesis.

Rendezvousing with Wrath

            Abortion drenches the land with innocent blood and we know what happens to a nation polluted by bloodguilt: judgment. Calamities too fearful to even imagine will be foisted upon them. Therefore I have brought its punishment upon it so that the land has spewed out its inhabitants. Bloodshed causes bloodguilt. And what is the only way to cleanse the land? Shed the blood of those performed and those who tolerated bloodshed.

            Of the Almighty Judge, Psalm 9:12 says, “For He who requires blood remembers them; He does not forget the cry of the afflicted.” Remember what God tells Cain in Genesis 4? “The voice of your brother’s blood is crying to Me from the ground.” Shed blood does not just speak—it yells. It makes a scene. And God notices. God hears the cry of the unborn and will avenge them. He will exact it by spilling the blood of those laden with the guilt of their spilt blood. For a God whose execution of justice is perfect, blood is not optional; it is a requirement. That should terrify all of us.

            Make no mistake: the judgments of God are coming to America. They are coming not only for the abortions we have committed, but also for our failure to seek and render justice for each of those abortions. We have tolerated bloodshed. We have celebrated bloodshed. We have supported and allowed bloodshed to continue. That is a sure and certain recipe for doom.

            2nd Kings 24:3-4 informs us that God sent different nations against the nation of Judah to destroy it, “because of the sins of Manasseh, according to all that he had done, and also for the innocent blood which he shed, for he filled Jerusalem with innocent blood; and the Lord would not forgive.” In some ways, it would seem too late to rectify this problem. We have gone too far and too long on a path of destruction. The soil of our nation is soaked with more innocent blood than nearly every other nation in the history of humanity. It would appear that the ship cannot turn around without striking the ice. While the mercy of God is as vast as the sea, so is his commitment to justice (Psalm 36:6).

            Yet time remains. Utter ruin has not come upon us yet. It would be arrogant to think our nation will emerge from our persistent abominations unscathed with no blow of recompense dealt to us. But in swiftly turning from evil and by vigorously pursuing justice, we may receive far less calamity than we deserve and even become recipients of a measure of mercy that is tremendous. We are, by virtue of God’s patience, already swimming in it. Though he burns daily with a righteous indignation we can scarcely fathom (Psalm 7:11), he is slow to act on it (2 Peter 3:9). He restrains himself and waits in the hope we might turn to him. God promises that, “as for the wickedness of the wicked, he will not stumble because of it in the day when he turns from his wickedness,” and that, “none of his sins that he has committed will be remembered against him” (Ezekiel 33:12,16). God’s heart to pardon is truly incredible, but we must not trifle with it; lest we find ourselves spoken of like Manasseh’s Jerusalem—it was filled with innocent blood, “and the Lord would not forgive.”

            If there is to be any hope of mercy for our nation, the Church, as always, must lead the way in positioning ourselves to receive it. Regardless of whether mercy will be granted us, as God’s people, we should be zealous for justice to be accomplished in our land. The innocent blood of those who bear God’s image should not fall apart from the unified cry of outrage and steadfast intervention of the Church. With the weight of bloodguilt our nation carries, how do we as God’s people respond? That is the urgent subject we shall undertake to explain next.

Notes

1 Not in fullness or exaction of course. Mere man could never fully display God’s glory. Only one man has ever done so and he, unlike other men, was also fully God. Concerning Christ, Hebrews tells us: “He is the radiance of His glory and the exact representation of His nature” (Hebrews 1:3) and Paul says that, “in Him all the fullness of Deity dwells in bodily form” (Colossians 2:9). Christ as both fully man and fully God alone perfectly fulfills this call to image God. Remarkably though, a day will come when having seen Him perfectly (what theologians term the “Beatific Vision”), all of Christ’s followers will be transformed into his likeness and finally fulfill humanity’s call to image God in the fullness of what he intended.

2 It is worth noting that while there is nothing wrong with the vegetarian or vegan lifestyle for reasons of health and diet, as a moral conviction it is morally suspect, precisely because taken as a conviction, it will have the effect of blurring the bright line God himself has drawn between the animal kingdom and humanity.  Moral Veganism and Vegetarianism  bestow an unbiblical type of dignity upon animals that diminishes the uniqueness of humanity by insisting that animal lives be respected in the same way as human lives. Such diminishment slights God himself, whose image humans bear. In matters of life it is paramount that we do not blur the line between beast and man; Genesis 9 may give us the freedom of diet, but it forbids equivocation.

3 As Psalm 106:37 shows us, the murdering of infants is part of the regimen of demon worship. Little wonder; something so gross and insidious could only be demonically inspired. It is with great astonishment, then, that a Christian could be found indifferent and even supportive of abortion. To those who are, we must lovingly but firmly characterize their support of abortion for what is: demonic. That such a characterization may be deemed offensive is completely extraneous to the truth. To support abortion is little different than entering a church and attempting to lead the congregants in a hymn dedicated to Satan.  

4 https://ucr.fbi.gov/crime-in-the-u.s/2017/crime-in-the-u.s.-2017/tables/table-1

5 https://ucr.fbi.gov/crime-in-the-u.s/2017/crime-in-the-u.s.-2017/topic-pages/clearances

6 https://www.guttmacher.org/report/abortion-incidence-service-availability-us-2017#

*Unless noted, all scripture quotations taken from the NASB. Copyright by The Lockman Foundation.