Christianity, Abortion, and Womens Rights (A Mature Discussion)

I don't see this topic being discussed very well, anywhere.  Of course, the internet has more articles/blog entries/etc. about abortion than you can shake a stick at, but most of them are just filled with angry, politicized ranting.  Since I started this website in order to have better conversations, it's high time I started this one.

Christians who view abortion as the murder of an infant naturally seek to avoid it.

I wouldn't put an infant to death because I didn't want it, and I think that the same thing applies to an infant who happens to still be in the womb.  It's unfair for that innocent life to be killed for our convenience.  Who am I to decide who lives and who dies just because a pregnancy was unexpected, or unwanted?  That's no cause for killing.

But what about women's rights?

This is where things get rough, of course.  When I tell people that I'm against abortion, they reply with, "why do you hate women?"  Years ago, this confused me, because no one ever bothered to explain what they were talking about.  I would end up scratching my head while my conversation partner was singing Helen Reddy songs.

They were upset because they assumed that I would tell a mother that she would have to die in the event that the baby's birth threatened her health.  Why would I do that?  I wouldn't.  Again, who am I to decide who lives or who dies?  I don't have that privilege (and I don't want it).

If a mother's life is threatened, then I don't see any reason not to preserve her life.  For one thing, she can have more children this way.  In my opinion, her life is just as valuable as the child's, so there is no way to choose.  In fact, in that situation there is no right answer - it's a tragedy and everyone is a victim.  There's no mandate that says a woman needs to die, and I think that it's unfair to assume that someone who protests casual abortion is the same as someone who would sentence a woman to death because of pregnancy complications. 

So, just to be sure we're all on the same page, I don't hate women (half of the babies I'm trying to save are female, after all), and I don't insist that a woman must die if her baby might kill her during the birth.  I'm not a monster.

What about children who might be born with Down Syndrome?

It shouldn't surprise you, by now, that I don't think Down Syndrome (or any other birth defect) is a strong enough reason to kill a baby.  They are just as precious and worthy as any other child.  Or, do you think that only healthy, intelligent babies should be allowed to live?

What about rape victims?

Rape victims have undergone a horrible nightmare that will probably haunt them for the rest of their lives.  But, killing the unborn baby is not going to change that.  The baby is innocent in all of this, and many people in our world were born as the product of rape.  (It might shock you to know how common this sort of thing is, or how many people you might know who were born this way - those people are thankful that they were allowed to live despite their unfortunate conception.)  I can't stress enough how much sympathy I have for a rape victim, but it doesn't give us a reason to end the child's life.  That just adds another victim to the crime.

Conclusion

Abortion needs to be avoided.  We should work against ending the lives of infants because it's wrong to take their lives in our own hands.  Those who cannot fight for their own survival always need our help, and I believe we must extend that to the unborn.

Furthermore, more women would keep their children if we didn't talk about pregnancies like they were some kind of scandal.  Be sure that your friends and family members can be comfortable keeping a baby (or a pregnant belly) around and don't make them feel like they are being criticized for it.

(In keeping with my theme of having a "mature discussion," feel free to disagree with me in the comment section - just do it like a grown up.)

Xanax and Kierkegaard

I interrupt my remarks on C. S. Lewis to announce that the New York Times has been running a series of articles on anxiety. This one is about Kierkegaard's The Concept of Anxiety. The author notes that in our culture anxiety is conventionally treated with medication. Of Kierkegaard: "Is there any doubt that were he alive today he would be supplied with a refillable prescription for Xanax?"

The same is probably true of Augustine in 386, the year of his conversion to Christ. Many other religious and philosophical figures might, in our day, have been diagnosed and given anti-depressants or anti-anxiety medication. A few who come to my mind are David and some other Psalmists, Jeremiah, Boethius, Nietzsche, and the Buddha (the article actually mentions Buddhism in relation to this topic). You can probably think of your own examples.

"Stop writing Psalms. That won't do you any good. What you need is a prescription."
(Picture originally from here.)

Now I have no problem with seeking medical solutions to anxiety. Sometimes there is a medical condition that calls for a medical response; I disapprove of religiously motivated rejection of medical care for a genuine medical problem.

But I think our culture has gone wrong in not seeking a spiritual solution. (What if David, Jeremiah, Augustine, Boethius, and Kierkegaard had taken these medications?)

"No more philosophy for you, Boethius! What you really need is pills!" (Picture originally from here.)

And I think Christians often go wrong in not applying a spiritual treatment for anxiety and depression. Whether or not there is a medical problem, isn't there always a spiritual problem that calls for a spiritual response?

After all, what does Scripture tell us? What do the Psalmists do with their fears and worries and miseries? And what does the Sermon on the Mount tell us to do with our anxiety? And Philippians 4:6-7? Until we can learn to have the Cross and the Empty Tomb always in mind, until we can learn to pray without ceasing, can we expect any amount of medical care to solve all the problems in our souls?

Theology For or Against the Church? An Open Plea to My Fellow Christian Thinkers

Right off the bat I should probably tell that there aren't going to be any cool/goofy pictures in this particular post (I'm as disappointed as you are).  I hope you'll keep reading, anyway.  Also, this post will probably be pretty general in its language without a great deal of specifics, mainly because I'm not trying to call any one out here.  In fact this isn't really a call of any kind -- a call to action, to arms, or to repentance.  It's really just a plea from a grieving and broken heart.  Full disclosure: it's after 12 am, and while I've tried to keep this concise, I'm pretty sure I've failed.

I see so many young Christian thinkers of my generation using their God-given minds to do theology not out of love for the Church or for the sake of the Church, but rather as pain- and/or embarrassment-fueled acts of self-vindication against the Church.  I see brothers and sisters lashing out against the Church that hurt them, pointing out the ugliness of the Church that made them feel unworthy, and rejecting in disgust the Church they feel rejected them.  And they write about why they ultimately left the Church not out of a desire to draw Christ's Bride closer to Him, but to justify the act.

Don't get me wrong: the Church hurts people.  I don't know why this surprises or shocks us.  The Church is a community of faith founded upon, among other things, the common belief that we so royally screwed up everything that it took the death of God Himself to start the process of making it right.  The Church consists of people being  made right, not people who are in the right.  And so we hurt each other.  And so we sometimes weekly confirm in our interactions with each other the fact that, yep, we definitely need a Savior.  Sometimes people are hurt so badly they leave -- sometimes that local church and sometimes the Church altogether.  And in leaving or in the way they leave, they often end up hurting others.  (I am not saying there is never a good reason to leave a local church, though there is never a good reason to leave the Church.)

And many times it seems those who (justifiably!) feel hurt and wounded level the sights of their creative and brilliant minds right back on the Church to whom God gave their wonderful minds as gifts in the first place.  Rather than working to fix the flaws of the Church, they flay the Church wide open through books and blogs so that the world can gawk and stare.  They join nonbelievers in mocking and disparaging the Church -- even going so far as to try to separate Jesus from His Church so that He becomes more palatable ... as if God ever offered Himself separately from the community He creates.

I've been guilty of all these things.  But I'm trying to change.  I'm trying to see the Church as Christ says she will be.  I'm trying to love the Church as Christ loves her .. and remembering that I'm part of the Church! If I leave the Church, all I'm doing is contributing to the problem.

I try to help fellow Christians think through Christianity not so that they have to admit that I was right and they owe me an apology, not so that they feel ashamed or put in their place, and not so that I feel vindicated against those who have abused me and abused the gospel.  I try to help the Church think through its pervasive folk-theology, its sometimes sentimental, yet meaningless art, and through its empty jingles, rhymes, and sound bites because the One I love loves her.  In fact, if I understand the Scriptures correctly, I actually cannot claim to love God without loving the Church, as well.

So please, fellow bloggers, authors, song-writers, artists, and thinkers of all kinds -- we of a generation that feels so utterly alienated and put off by the Church in so many of the manifestations left to us by our parents and grandparents: Fight.  Fight! Fight for the Church.  Not against her.  Fight for her right belief and right practices.  Fight for the value God sees in her.  Fight for the beauty He will bestow upon her.  Fight on behalf of your fellow mess ups -- the ones who have abused and hurt you because they themselves have been abused and hurt.

This does not mean that we as a generation give up the prophetic voice.  The Church needs correction and reproof in every age, and God always manages to raise up men and women of faith to do just that.  But prophetic does not mean abusive, and it most certainly does not mean unloving.  Do theology out of love for the Church, or not at all.  For as Paul reminds us, whatever we may accomplish, if it is not done in love, it is worthless.  That includes the products of our rage, anger, and self-vindication -- no matter how clever the theology may be.

"Without Religion, We Wouldn't Have Any Wars." Huh?

Raise your hand if you've heard someone say something along the lines of the quote in the title of this post.  Now, I obviously can't see any of your hands, but I'm guessing that quite a few are up right now.  Now, nothing drives an historian nuttier faster than people oversimplifying and misunderstanding history.  The direct, simple, and necessary line that people draw between religion and war makes me batty.  Here are some reasons why:

"You see, [insert here] is just like Vietnam! When are we going to learn, man!"

Religion is sometimes the justification, but seldom the direct cause of war in human history.  Now this point really is important, people.  Throughout human history, most conflicts have revolved around water, land, wealth -- things like that.  That's not to say that people didn't fight over these things in the name of their god(s), but that everything wasn't all cool until some idiot invented religion.  In other words, people would have found other reasons to fight over resources.  Religion has also been used as a justifying veneer to hide what are basically political or territorial struggles.  This is especially true in European history, but in the history of other parts of the world, as well.  So the key lesson here is that just because someone finds it convenient to do something in the name of a supernatural being doesn't mean they wouldn't have taken the same action without such an inspiration (pun intended!).  Besides, the largest body counts and the biggest empires the world has seen haven't been due to particularly religious motivations.

"The gold, the political aspirations, and the vast natural resources are nice, I guess.  

But if I didn't know that there was a divine being wanting me to have all this,
 I just don't know what the point would be."

Religion has been the weapon of the oppressed, not just of the oppressor.  Religion has certainly been a rallying cry for empire building, but it has also been the rallying cry for revolutionaries and freedom fighters the world over.  Pssst, this includes the American Revolution! Recruiters for the continental army  had a very difficult time recruiting throughout New England, and often turned to local ministers to recruit for them.  On more than a few occasions, the story went something like this: recruiter enters town; maybe a few, if any, recruits come forward, local minister admonishes his congregation to join the army from the pulpit; suddenly, there is a rush of recruits, often including the local minister.  I am not debating here whether America was founded as a "Christian" nation or anything like that.  I'm merely pointing out that many rank and file soldiers had to be convinced that God was cool with the Revolution before they would sign up.  Across the New World and the Old World resistance movement have similarly sprung up, revolving around a saint, a god, or some other spiritual being.  Most of the readers of this blog probably enjoy certain rights and freedoms because somewhere in the past someone thought their god(s) wanted them to fight .. and not always through violence.  Whether rightly or wrongly isn't my point.  My point is that religion has served the bully and the underdog alike throughout human history.    

PICTURED: A religious person, probably up to no good

People commit violence all the time for reasons that have nothing to do with religion.    How many religiously-motivated rapes, drive-by's, murders, muggings, etc, are there every year.  Sure, there might be some, but clearly not even close to the majority.  The fatal flaw of the "no religion = no war" argument is that it completely misses the mark on human nature.  Yes, people have used religion as a justification for cruelty and violence.  But people have used almost everything toward this end.  War and other kinds of violence are products of human nature, not belief in a divine being or beings.

"I don't even like the color red, but God totally wants me to have this car."

And on a philosophical note, just because something can be abused does not mean it is inherently bad or that the world would be better off without it.  My word! What technology, what human cultural advancements -- what of anything would we have left if we got rid of things that have ever been abused, incited or aided violence, or in some way brought about bad things? I guess it's back to rocks and fire, people.  Oh wait, those can be used to kill, too.  Well, crap.  You see, religion's legacy is not just war.  It is tremendous cultural, social, political, and scientific (yes, scientific) advancement.  It is hospitals and orphanages.  It largely responsible for the end of slavery (even if it has often been used to justify it) and accounts for much of the personnel and resources devoted to the struggle against human trafficking.  You get the picture.

Bill had a rather extreme reaction to burning his hand on the hot steering wheel.

Now, of course, I haven't uncovered even the tip of the iceberg as far as places this conversation could go.  This is, after all, merely one blog entry (and it's getting a bit long as it is).  My hope, though, is that at least some of the points I've made here briefly will encourage deeper thinking about the connection between religion and war.