The Art of Empathy or, Understanding Why People are Upset About Trump’s Win


_87170064_gettyimages-488226322The weeping and gnashing of teeth, as well as the rendering of garments, has commenced in full effect ever since Donald Trump won the election last Tuesday. We’ve seen protests, people crying, and heard rumors (some validated, others not) of minority groups being targeted. In short, a campaign unlike any others has given way to a transition unlike any others.

There have been quite a few Trump supporters – or even non-Trump supporters – questioning why people are so upset. They’re mocking those who protest. But to them, I’d ask that they consider the following:

In some alternate timeline, the Republicans ran Mitch McConnell and the Democrats ran Bill Maher. So we have someone who is the insider of insiders, with some massive issues (McConnell) running against a populist outsider (Maher).

During the election, Bill Maher is Bill Maher. He talks about how we have to monitor parents who raise their children within Christianity. He talks about how we should infiltrate and monitor conservative evangelical churches, just because they compromise the security of America. He shows warm feelings towards the current Chinese government (who is hardline Communist and attempting to retract many Capitalist gains). He uses multiple speeches to speak of how it’s not enough to just tax the wealthy, we have to imprison them to teach them a lesson on greed. He talks about how he wants to ban conservative media sources. He mocks anyone in “fly over” country as backwards, and does this while campaigning. And at his campaign, young far-left activists throw objects at Fox News reporters and other conservative news reporters. They mock them, spit at them, and create an environment of violence, all while Bill Maher looks on and says nothing.

And then he wins.

For many of you who are conservative, how would you feel? You’d be afraid, right? You’d be afraid that the new visitor in your church is actually a government plant, sent to spy on your church. You’d worry that just because of your beliefs, you’d now be a target by the President of the United States, who has openly campaigned on how he wants to remove your rights.

You’d have friends tell you, “I just couldn’t vote for McConnell, I want the system removed.” You’d question if they actually care about you, if they are actually concerned with who you are and your rights. It’d cause you to question the nation in which you live.

THAT is the reality that many, many people woke up to on November 9. They woke up to a world where the president-elect campaigned on promises to attack their way of life. And just as you would be scared, they are scared.

I get why you voted for Trump, I understand it, because many will say, “Well because that HAS been us for a number of years.” And to a certain extent, you’re right. While the President hasn’t mocked or threatened to remove the rights of Christians, many on the far-left have. But think of how it made you feel threatened, think of how it made you feel vulnerable, and realize that many people feel that way today because of your vote.

So maybe show some empathy to them? Maybe reach out and say, “Look, I voted for Trump because I want the system to crash; but if he does actually come after you, I’ll stand with you because I support principles before I support the party. I support the constitution more than I support ideology.” It’s bad enough that Trump was elected, but if we truly want “unity,” if we truly want “healing,” then those who voted for Trump have to reach out and say that they won’t stand for Trump acting on certain promises, that they’ll stand against Trump if he does try to live up to his rhetoric.

And if you do actually believe that the rights of Muslims should be curbed, if you do actually believe that we should ostracize Hispanics, if you do actually believe that America will become great by becoming more white, then you are the problem with this nation. Not the illegal immigrants, not the Muslims, not the African-Americans, but you.

How to be a Christian in the Era of Donald Trump


Trumpolini (1)I sat there a bit dumbfounded and debated on if I had actually heard what I thought I heard. Rep. Steve King had just said that no other “subgroup” of people – that is, non-white, non-Western people – had contributed as much to society as white people, or as he sadly tried to explain, “Western Civilization.” Such openly racist remarks by an elected official are thankfully surprising and shocking, indicating some level of progress in the right direction as a society, but at the same time aren’t entirely surprising. That’s what happens when we live in the era of Donald Trump.

Donald Trump as a politician is a racist and is fanning the flames of racism. I cannot say if he is such as an individual, considering it’s impossible to know what part of his campaign is farcical and which part represents his actual beliefs. People can argue all they want and attempt to present as much nuance as they want, but when the alt-right (read: White Supremacists) and even a former KKK member feel comfortable with Trump and feel emboldened by his message, nuance no longer matters.

Let me get this part out of the way: No Christian should vote for Donald Trump. I’m not saying who Christians should vote for, but as Christians we are to love our neighbors. If a candidate comes along who asks us to hate our neighbors, who asks us to cast suspicion on our neighbors, who asks us to feel superior to our neighbors, then we must reject that candidate. When Klansmen and white supremacists sing the praises of your candidate, and it’s done en masse by such people, perhaps it’s time to realize you have the wrong candidate. That the Republicans, a party that has feigned moral superiority for decades, are choosing a racist leader doesn’t mean one must bow before party unity. One’s soul matters far more than one’s political party.

The above being said, how do we live in a Donald Trump era? See, the issue isn’t whether Donald Trump believes half of what he spews or just does it because it gets him votes (I happen to think he doesn’t believe much of what he says). The issue is that a majority of people in a major US political party have bought into his rhetoric. Regardless of if he believes his own lies, many other people do. Many other people would love to see us kick out undocumented immigrants (as though that’s feasible or ethical), many other people would love to kick out all Muslims or ban them from entering our country, many other people actually believe there’s something “special” about being white. How do we maintain sanity and love in an era marked by craziness and hate?

We continue to do what Christians have done throughout similar ages, which is to ignore the rabble and go about our business. It’s okay to take political stances and have political beliefs, but we must never let those beliefs turn us towards hatred of people, especially oppressed people. It’s okay to argue against illegal immigration (I, for one, would not). There are legitimate arguments and concerns against it. But it’s not okay to argue or to take a stance against illegal immigrants. These are people, human beings, who by being human beings hold an absolute right to exist and partake in the best life possible. That our government has a failed policy on immigration doesn’t mean we should argue against the individuals who take advantage of the failed policy. If you see an undocumented immigrant who needs food or water, your job as a Christian is to give him food and water. If you see him being taken advantage of, your job as a Christian is to help him obtain justice.

The Christian message isn’t built on superiority, but on humility. Christianity is not a “western” religion and no culture can lay claim to it. When the western world was still sacrificing animals to pagan gods, Christians in the east were building cathedrals. Western Europe wasn’t completely Christianized until the 11th century, well over 1,000 years after the founding of Christianity. Christianity transcends our culture and, ideally, should function to shape our culture and our ideals. While I’m a proponent of what is mistakingly called Western Civilization (is it really western if it began in the Middle East, was improved by Greece, and only reached a “western” Rome nearly 2,400 years after it began?), I have no grand delusions to say that Western Civilization is better or encompasses Christianity. Rather, I understand that my culture, my beliefs, my everything, must fall under the domain of Christianity. If my political belief is an inconvenience to Christianity, then the political belief must change. If Christianity calls for me to love my neighbor and a politician calls for me to hate my neighbor, then I must abandon that politician.

Living as a Christian in the era of Trump requires us to accept the fact that we’ve lost all political influence. We cannot hitch our trailer to Donald Trump and say, “At least he’ll promote some Christian things.” No, he won’t. One who promotes hatred goes against the core of Christianity. As Christians, we must support the candidate that will best allow us to fulfill our duty – that is, who won’t create laws or create a culture that actively inhibits us – to love God with all our hearts, minds, and souls, and to love our neighbors as ourselves. A politician that would seek to see our neighbors imprisoned, deported, or ostracized from society isn’t a politician we can support. That doesn’t say much in the way of who we should vote for, but it says quite a bit about who we should not vote for. Living in the era of Trump means we have to forgo political gain and work harder to show love to our neighbors. Failure to do so will ensure that Christianity disappears from the United States, for no political movement can save us, no political movement can protect us, only by displaying love to our neighbors can we be saved.

This is Your Place in the Universe: The Tiniest of Kings and Queens


Source: NASA

Source: NASA

It’s popular on social media, notably Twitter and Facebook, to post videos that show how infinitesimally small the earth is when compared to objects inside our universe. They then draw some conclusion of, “See how insignificant we are?” or “So when your problems seem overwhelming, just look at how big the universe is and realize how small your problems are.” Such messages, I guess, are suppose to be inspiring, but ultimately they’re quite nihilistic. It’s like one of those Lisa Frank paintings with nihilistic messages:

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It looks kind, cuddly, and just pukes sentimentality, but the message is pretty dark. And that’s how these videos on the universe are; yes, we’re small, we’re tiny compared to other physical objects in the universe, but does that really mean our problems are insignificant? Just say, “Cry into the night sky, but understand that your sound goes into a void that will not answer back and will not hear you.” It’s atheistic existentialism without the acknowledgement of angst or absurdity, it’s optimistic nihilism, which is to say it’s neither optimistic nor nihilist, but just a logical contradiction.

How non sequitur is it to say, “But the universe is vast and large and we are insignificant” when someone comes to you with a problem? More importantly, why would the size of the earth play into our significance? While the magnitude of a problem experiences some subjectivity – to a three year old, dropping an ice cream cone is an act of supreme evil – it doesn’t mean our problems or even our lives are insignificant. We can’t look at the crisis in the Middle East, the number of orphans, widows, and rampant genocide, we can’t look at the rapes, the theft, the wanton loss of life and go, “Yeah, but VY Canis Majoris is 5,000 light years from earth and dwarfs our own sun! So really, how big can our problems be?” That response is properly received as cold and callous, and that’s because it is, because human lives are significant regardless of their size.

See, while VY Canis Majoris might dwarf our sun, or while the whole of North America might look like a smudge when compared to the size of Jupiter, human lives dwarf absolutely everything else in this universe, including the universe itself. We are the kings and queens of creation, placed as stewards over all that we observe, even if what we observe is bigger than ourselves. Much to the chagrin of atheists or the non-religious, though evolved we are still made in the image of God. And since God is infinite, within that image there is infinity, and infinity shall always remain greater than the finite. And the universe, no matter how vast it is, is still finite. The problems we face, the evil we cause, the good we enjoy, the love we create, and every aspect of our existential lives are not insignificant or small just because the universe is large; these elements echo in eternity and will surpass even the universe itself.

And for those who aren’t religious or are atheists and prefer not to believe that we are in God’s image, I can respect that, but I can’t respect the devaluation of human life. For even the atheist existentialists would embrace the absurdity of treating human life with dignity because, after all, it’s the only intelligent form of life of which we know As small as we are, our intelligence makes us of far greater value than some distant star of mass quantities.

So yes, in terms of physical limitations humans are insignificant. We’re nothing compared to other animals on this planet, if we’re only looking to physicality. But if we’re looking to more, if we’re looking to the intangible, immaterial aspect of our existence (for love, knowledge, and the like cannot be measured and though immaterial, are a vital part of our existence and are what makes us human), then nothing in the observable universe comes close to our own significance.

 

The Walsh Awakens: Matt Walsh Stares into the Trump and the Trump Stares Back


trump sewer.jpg

Matt Walsh stares into the abyss, only to find Donald Trump staring back

Friedrich Nietzsche is one of my favorite philosophers. Not because I agree with him – I find his views to be quite dangerous – but because he’s so absurd, so willing to take his thoughts to their conclusions, and there’s that perverse part of me that enjoys watching a crazy man shout in the streets. Nietzsche is to philosophy what Gary Busey is to television; both have staying power even though no one really knows why, both pump out Tweets (or “sayings” for Nietzsche, but they were Tweets before Twitter) that look deep, but are just asinine, yet I’ll be damned if it’s not the most entertaining thing you’ll see.

Which brings me to a very famous and oft misunderstood quote by Nietzsche:

“He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster.

And if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee.”

The point being, the longer you fight against a thing, the more likely you are to become that thing (or like it) or realize you already are like that thing. We sometimes hate something not because we’re actually opposed to it, but because it exposes us for what we are.

And the mentioning of Gary Busey brings me to another point…Donald Trump. Trump, much like Ron Burgundy, is kind of a big deal, especially if you ask him. He’s the bull and the United States is his china shop. What ought to worry most people is that Donald Trump, as of January 2016, has a legitimate chance to become the next president of the United States. One conservative who is worried, shockingly enough, is shock jock Blaze columnist Matt Walsh.

Walsh is baffled (BAFFLED!) that evangelical Christians could possibly support Donald Trump as president. Walsh appropriately points out that Trump is the antithesis of Christian values. I happen to agree with Walsh here as Trump’s positions do contradict everything within Christianity. Of course, that’s not what Walsh meant. Walsh, instead, points to Trump’s personal life and the fact that he’s apparently not “God-fearing” as the reason he’s anti-Trump. In other words, Walsh’s problems are with the guy’s behavior and not his beliefs, and that’s a problem.

It’s inconsistent for Walsh to actually take a stand against Trump because the two are almost eye-to-eye on the policy level. Donald Trump wants to deport all illegal immigrants and ban them from entering the country, just as Matt Walsh wants to deport all illegal immigrants. Donald Trump wants to stop the refugees from entering the country, just like Matt Walsh wants to stop them.  Donald Trump wants to stop political correctness by speaking “truth,” which, as you guessed, Matt Walsh wants to stop political correctness by speaking “truth.” Donald Trump likes a low minimum wage, as does Matt Walsh. Both agree that we don’t have a police abuse problem in America, and that African Americans aren’t suffering from it, but rather that the African American community is the problem (of course, without putting it in those terms).

And the list really does go on. I tried to find one major area of major disagreement and I came up with nothing. If you take the person of Donald Trump out of the equation and just look at the issues, then Donald Trump is the ideal candidate for Matt Walsh. So why isn’t Walsh wanting to #TrumpTheVote? Because he doesn’t like Trump as a person and he can’t understand why people, evangelical Christians, his readers, like Trump so much.

What Matt Walsh doesn’t realize, or perhaps he realizes and fears, is that Donald J. Trump is the personification of Matt Walsh’s – and by extension the far right’s – beliefs, and they don’t like what they see. After all, he accurately calls Trump “Godless,” and even an atheist would have to agree that Trump is pretty godless. Or, to quote Matt Walsh,

I know this will not resonate with atheists, but for us God-fearing folk it is extraordinarily obvious and irrefutable that we ought to only vote for other God-fearing folk. John Adams said, “Our Constitution was made only for a moral and religious people. It is wholly inadequate to the government of any other.” I think it goes without saying that if the governed ought to be moral and religious, certainly the governors ought to be the same, and arguably more so.

That brings me to Donald Trump. I’ve tried to talk sense into Trump fans a thousand different ways and to no avail. It is a mob mentality driving Trump-mania, and mobs are famously difficult to reason with.

There is no use in trying to appeal to them as one group, anyway. Many elements comprise the Trump base, and most of them have values and principles that are completely antithetical to what any real conservative believes. But in the middle of this bizzare [sic] Trumpling potpourri are, apparently, Christians. Perhaps a vast number of them.

Ignoring the idea that not a single president has ever been “God-fearing” (how does one fear God, but not enough to free one’s slaves?), all of this argues against the person of Donald Trump, but not the policies of Donald Trump. But other than the fact that Donald Trump is a disgusting excuse for a human being, what policy differences does he supposedly have with Trump? What values and principles does Trump have that are antithetical to conservatives, but still somehow leads to (allegedly) conservative policy beliefs? How can two antithetical – that is, contradictory – beliefs result in the same policy decisions across the board? It’s one thing to have some overlap (Bernie Sanders, who begins from a non-Christian belief, still holds some policy decisions that overlap old Christian political beliefs), but to have a 1:1 match goes beyond a bit of overlap.

While Communism is the logical conclusion of Capitalism, at their core the two are antithetical, meaning that at a policy level one will have to give way to the other. Christianity and atheism are antithetical beliefs, meaning that if one derives one’s political beliefs from one’s metaphysical beliefs, there will be some differences in the political beliefs. Higher order beliefs will always impact lower order beliefs, meaning anything contradictory at a higher order will lead to contradictory policy beliefs (if consistency exists).

While Matt Walsh serves as a good whipping boy, the fact is there are many evangelical Christians who hold the same policy beliefs as Trump, but are somehow baffled by Trump’s success and abhor him as a person. In essence, they’ve stared into the abyss and found Donald Trump staring back. They’re left with some very unsettling conclusions:

  1. If a godless man such as Donald Trump comes to the same policy beliefs that they, the God-fearing evangelical conservatives have, then perhaps Trump isn’t godless, or perhaps being God-fearing doesn’t really matter in picking the “right” policy. Apparently one can be God-fearing, godless, or anything in between and still come to the correct conclusions in terms of policies
  2. If a godless man such as Donald Trumps holds the same policy beliefs as God-fearing evangelical conservatives, then maybe those policy beliefs don’t actually stem from a Christ-centered belief structure

Either option isn’t fun.

Christians have seemingly ignored the warnings of Francis Schaeffer, who rather than being the cause of the Religious Right (a famous, but absurdly inaccurate belief) actually warned against the rise of the Religious Right. In both A Christian Manifesto and The Great Evangelical Disaster, Schaeffer warns Christians to never become allies with the political process or political parties, to always act as co-belligerents on areas of agreement. Schaeffer was, of course, referencing the issue of abortion, arguing that Christians shouldn’t ally with Republicans in fighting abortion, but should instead stand as co-belligerents on this one issue.

Instead, today we have a form of Christianity that is almost entirely a co-opted wing of the Republican Party. Rather than evangelicals influencing Republicans, the conservatives, or the far right, we have the far right influencing evangelicals (and even some Catholics and Orthodox). Of course, not all conservative evangelicals are enamored with Trump and unlike Matt Walsh, they can stand against Trump with consistency. Dr. Russell Moore has not really argued against the person of Trump, so much as he’s argued against the ideas and policies of Trump, something Matt Walsh and other far right conservatives cannot do without a hint of irony.

Ultimately, to play off the idea of Russell Moore, conservative evangelicals have adopted a golden calf (not that liberal evangelicals are any better). But that golden calf isn’t Donald Trump, it’s the heartless and godless beliefs that are behind Trump. The anti-immigrant, anti-woman, anti-refugee, pro-nationalistic, pro-authoritarianism beliefs are not Christian and have never been Christian. While Christians have co-opted the world’s beliefs, they’ve done so by damaging the Gospel, not enhancing it. The golden calf in modern America, for conservatives, is conservatism itself. It’s the modern conservatism that comes with an implicit “America First” belief. It’s a political belief that looks to the nation before looking to the world or, more importantly, looking to Christ.

Christianity is a global religion with global ramifications. As a Christian I am called to help all, regardless of the consequences. In the far right there are caveats or complete blocks to who I can help. Donald Trump isn’t a compatible candidate because his personal life is a cesspool of human waste; he’s not a compatible candidate because his beliefs and policies attack the very heart of the Gospel. If your beliefs align with his, even if you hate him, perhaps rather than condemning the darkness of Trump’s heart it’s best to gaze into the abyss of your own. But be warned, the abyss might gaze back.

On Refugees and Justice


Source: The Independent

Source: The Independent

“Now this was the sin of your sister Sodom: She and her daughters were arrogant, overfed and unconcerned; they did not help the poor and needy.” – Ezekiel 16:49

How fickle and mutable is the public opinion concerning refugees and those in need. Just a few short months ago, the world stood witness to the body of a little boy, given up by the sea as his family attempted to flee a horrible situation. The sentiment towards helping refugees grew and the Western world seemed willing to spring into action. Faced with one of the greatest crises since WWII and with an enemy just as evil as the Third Reich, the Western world looked ready to unite and help those looking for a life away from constant danger.

And then Paris happened.

Suddenly, nations closed their borders, people abruptly lost their compassion, and the United States – historically a beacon for the sick, the tired, the poor – had 27 governors overstep their authority and say they wouldn’t allow refugees into their states. Never mind that of all the known attackers, every single one (with exception to one) was a French national, not a refugee. Of the one where little is known, he used a fake Syrian passport, meaning we don’t know his status, but most likely wasn’t a refugee.

But fear never lets facts get in the way.

Prudence requires an increase in screenings, in doing all we can to weed out potential terrorists as well as help refugees acclimate to the United States (so as to prevent disruption, resentment, and a reason to join a terrorist group). Justice requires us to seek a way to permanently fix this situation so the refugees can return home without worry of losing their lives. But mercy requires us to bring them away from danger and to a land of relative peace and safety.

Taking in refugees certainly is a complicated matter. After all, the average refugee will undergo some form of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (especially for those who came from areas of heavy fighting), has lost family members, and is coming to a part of the world with an entirely different culture, climate, language, and majority religion. Such a scenario will naturally breed a tense situation that, if not handled properly, could cause problems. If we add to it that representatives of local governments (such as governors) are openly hostile to refugees, we have a volatile situation.

As with most things in life, love can overcome hate. It’s amazing how far a smile, simple directions, or just learning how to say “hello” in someone’s language will go. It’s the government’s job to vet the refugees and find places for them to live, but it’s up to us to make them feel welcome. People who feel welcome, who feel like guests or, even better, feel like neighbors are less likely to radicalize or listen to fundamentalists. Imagine the refugee who comes to the US or who is even turned away from the US, with the words of ISIS coming to mind; “They will reject you, they will mistreat you, only under an Islamic Caliphate can you find true happiness and freedom.” Such words begin to ring true when we actually do mistreat and reject refugees. If, however, we welcome them, treat them as neighbors, and do what we can to love them, then the words of ISIS ring hollow and false.

The future of these refugees really does fall on how we, as a community, treat them. If we are open and welcoming then chances are we will gain great citizens and neighbors. If we instead make the mistake of so many before us and reject them, then we will have nothing but trouble in our future.

The Gospel and Social Justice: Concluding Thoughts on Pope Francis’ visit to the United States


IMG_0513Steve Skojec, writing in opposition to Pope Francis’ calls for action on climate change and social justice, did a wonderful job of summarizing the core of the opposition to the Pope’s message: stop focusing so much on social justice and instead focus on salvation. Or, to quote from Skojec;

As Thursday’s congressional address emphasized, however, Francis’ priorities are climate change, economic justice, marginalization and the poor, while little emphasis is placed on the deep moral and spiritual crisis that threatens our eternal salvation or our subsequent need for authentic conversion.

According to him, and others, it would be better for the Pope and Christians universal if they instead tried to get people to convert. While it’s okay to feed the poor and advocate for climate change, it’s only okay so long as we’re using such things to “preach the Gospel.” Otherwise, such actions are merely indicative of a glorified NGO.

We’re told that the purpose of the Church isn’t to be some humanitarian organization, but to “save souls,” completely ignoring 2,000 years of teachings, handed-down wisdom, and theology that teaches us there is no difference between the two. After all, when Christ stated the two greatest commandments, they boiled down to, “Love God and love your neighbor.” Those are vague enough to allow us to display that love in unique ways, but strict enough to tell us that love should be the drive in all that we do. Within these commandments, and within Christ’s own teachings and actions, we never see a hierarchy of what constitutes “love,” that one action involves a greater act of love than the other (short of self-sacrifice).

The problem, or so it seems, is that too many Christians hold this idea that the Gospel is ultimately about doing what we should in order to get to heaven. What we should do in order to obtain heaven differs from denomination to denomination, but the ultimate motive behind salvation tends to be, “What must I do to go to Heaven?” Of course, within Christ’s own teachings there is never a dichotomy placed between “being saved” and “social justice.” For Christ there seems to be a both/and aspect to salvation, that preaching the Gospel entails both advocating for social justice and for repentance.

In fact, the criticisms of the modern Pope on his calls for social justice are really a repudiation of millennia of Church teachings. Trust me, as someone who is Eastern Orthodox I do have criticisms of the Papal office, I do have issues with their theology – there is a reason that I’m Orthodox and not Roman Catholic – but those criticisms do not extend to his teachings on social justice. Such criticisms show a lack of imagination and historical understanding in attempting to separate the Gospel from social justice. The two, per Christ’s own example and teachings, are one in the same.

Acting as though salvation is about getting to Heaven (or getting right with God), or primarily about such things is no different than acting as though marriage is all about sex, or primarily about sex. Salvation, like marriage, is about a life-altering relationship that will impact every single aspect of your life. In return, it forces you to change how you view and interact with the world, realizing that some will come to salvation not through the booming cadence of the preacher, but through the quiet actions of love.

Certainly, turning from sin is an important thing as it is a form of liberation. But if we cannot move to liberate people from their current troubles, then what hope can we offer for liberation from sin? What is hunger compared to sin? Yet, if we cannot feed people now, if we cannot eradicate their physical hunger, how can we possibly hope to feed their spiritual hunger? Feeding the poor is the Gospel, because the action fits the immediate need while pointing to a future where hunger will not exist. Advocating change against climate change – a change that is harming humans – is preaching the Gospel, because we’re following in Christ’s footsteps by calling for Heaven here on earth, and in heaven there won’t be overconsumption and abuse of resources. All actions by Christians always hold both an immediate meaning and a deeper meaning (much like Scripture). Christians are to always preach the Gospel, sometimes with words, but always with deeds. If we follow the example of Christ, then we’ll find it impossible to place a barrier between the Gospel and social justice; for how can you have one without the other?

Further Thoughts on Planned Parenthood or, Why Not the Church?


IMG_0330The debate and controversy over abortion might seem relatively new, something arriving in the last century, but in the ancient world the practice of abortion wasn’t entirely uncommon. Both the Greeks and Romans engaged in it, as well as infanticide. The early Christians, unsurprisingly, forbade abortion and infanticide. The morality of protecting human life within Christianity is a constant from our foundation to the present day, but how that life is protected has changed. In our earliest days the Church would take care of women or abandoned babies, helping them along the way. Today we protest and petition Caesar, whereas in the ancient days Christians protested the action, but petitioned the heart. Therein lies the difference.

With all the controversy surrounding Planned Parenthood and its utility to a community contrasted against the abortions it provides, there’s one question few people have asked: Why has Planned Parenthood supplanted the Church? Why is it that a pregnant woman, unable to provide for her pregnancy, is sooner found knocking on the door of her local clinic rather than her local church? Even if she doesn’t seek abortion and instead seeks medical aid, the Church seems to be the last place she’ll go. It seems that we’re faithful to our roots in keeping our morality, but not in living our morality.

What is the greater harm to the world; a doctor selling the parts of a baby, or a Christian refusing to provide church funds to help a pregnant woman because she “conceived in sin?” Perhaps we could argue over which is worse – and certain trafficking and profiteering in human body parts ranks up there – but it’s impossible to deny that our actions are somewhat responsible for the current evils. What if, when a woman needed prenatal care, she knew she could go to her local Church and they could at least get her in with the right services? What if she knew a local member who would employ her and give her maternity leave, without fear of losing her job? What if she knew that all her needs – and the needs of her child – could be met by the simple act of walking into a Church? Even with the State’s blessing on abortion, surely we’d see abortion rates plummet.

Perhaps our problem is we see the abortion debate as a debate over an issue and not over persons. Abortion, as a term, is quite abstract. As someone trained in philosophy I can sit here and provide solid arguments on why a fetus is a human being with certain rights and never once mention religious reasons, but such a debate often ignores the realities of the world. After all, once aware a Holocaust was taking place in Europe, the world did not engage in academic debates over whether it was right or wrong, but acted against it. Likewise, there is no real debate over the rightness or wrongness of abortion, everyone, at some level, knows it’s wrong. But few, especially within the Church, are taking action against it beyond calling for legislative change. I believe we act this way because we treat abortion as an issue and not as a crisis of humanity.

Yet, abortion is a crisis in every sense of the term. That a woman feels her only resort is to kill her child in order to get by in life indicates she faces crises in her life, that pregnancy is the last one and she cannot handle it. Abortion is the act of taking one life, but always takes two souls; the body of the child is crushed and destroyed and the soul is lost, but the mother’s soul faces years of pondering and regret thereafter. Abortion is always a tragedy, for both the child and mother, for while the two are separate, they are linked.

The solution to ending abortion is to act as our forefathers did, to engage the person and serve the community. Where our ancestors had an advantage – they were unified and didn’t have thousands of denominations to overcome – we are disadvantaged, but the present time requires us to put aside some differences for the common good. Perhaps we can pool our resources and begin to offer an alternative, a better organized alternative, to Planned Parenthood. While we may never be unified in the time of the Divine Mysteries, perhaps we can find enough unity to protect life and bring a little more light into this dark world.