After all of the uproar of the #GOPdebate, I cannot do it any more. I cannot stay silent about this issue. Before we move on, dear reader, you need to know two things. First of all, I am pro-life. I am as pro-life as they come. I wholeheartedly believe even in placing the safety and health of an unborn precious child over the life of the mother. Secondly, Planned Parenthood makes me want to vomit. I am all for defunding an organization that sells human flesh in all forms.
Now that those important precepts are established, lest you think I have temporarily gone insane, I now need to ask us to do something, dear Church. This is my plea for us, with myself included, to reconsider how we fight for the rights of the unborn. This is my urgent plea for the Church to change Her scare tactics.
Let’s all put down our picket signs for one moment and consider the pregnant mother. In this particular moment of imagining, I imagine her as African-American, unwed, completely alone and confused. (If you do your due diligence, you will quickly find that she is the one most targeted by Planned Parenthood, and her unborn baby carries the highest percentage of being aborted.)
Let’s suppose for a moment that, in theory, we have convinced her not to abort her baby, either by way of legislation, lack of funding for Planned Parenthood, or our self-waged war against abortion clinics, complete with waving signs and harsh words. The biggest question, the one that begs the asking, the one that I do not hear enough Christians asking is this: Now what? What comes after the decision to not abort?
Dear American Church, if we are so thoroughly convinced in our conviction that abortion is wrong (and we are and it is!), will we now do the hard work after the in utero baby is deemed safe?
Will we take the mother shopping for maternity clothes?
Will we let her crash on our couch when she has nowhere else to go? When family and friends and lovers forsake her for this choice?
Will we take her to her doctor’s appointments, praying her along each step of this pro-life journey?
Will we hold her hand through a grueling labor and delivery?
Will we be willing to adopt this life we fought so vehemently to save?
Will we be the father in the absence of a father?
Will we teach a torn and lonely woman how to be a caring mother?
Will we coach her son's baseball league?
Will we braid her daughter’s hair?
Will we invite this precious life we helped to save over for dinner?
Will we welcome him? Will we welcome her into our families, into our lives, into our Church?
Will we stay long after the decision to preserve life inside the womb has been made?
Will we be around when life outside of the womb still needs an advocate?
I guess what I am asking, perhaps even begging, us to do is this: be the Church. We must be Jesus in more than just our words; we must back them up by our strong, compassionate actions, as well.
It is no longer enough to be against abortion. Being against something without offering a viable alternative is selfish and lazy. As the American Church, let us truly be for life. This must include all life: the lives of the unborn, the lives of confused and broken mothers and fathers, the lives of the widow, the lives of the orphan, the lives of the immigrant.
If, and only if, we are willing to do these things do we have the right to wave our signs or cast our vote.