This week I received an e-mail from a friend that, upon reading, I immediately knew I needed to share. Her testimony is a powerful one–she was raised in a Christian home but found herself pregnant and unmarried in her early twenties. Fortunately, her parents were supportive so she chose to proceed with the pregnancy, and her son is now an amazing (and TALL!) 14 year old boy.

My friend endured a lot of tough knocks along the way, but she is a beautiful picture of the strength and accomplishment that comes with perseverance and obedience to the Lord. Today she is married, has a successful career, and is also mom to a gorgeous two year old girl.

She sent me the below message after sharing her story with some women in the church (who received her testimony so compassionately, I might add!). I asked her permission to share some of her reflections because I found it helpful to hear her insights on the experience:

“I am, fortunately, not condemned by or ashamed of my story or history but it is a complicated story and people in the church, specifically women, have not always been the warmest about it.

“I lament the fact that we teach and tell girls and young women in their twenties and thirties not to abort, we tell them that their children are gifts from God and that the only choice is for them to have their babies and then – when they do – we whisper in the halls when they walk by, talk about them behind their backs or reduce them to “dumb” girls who are destined to live simple, uneducated lives.”

As Christians, we do a great job of promoting pro-life causes. We fight for the unborn, and we have begun the important work of caring for unwed mothers as well. And yet, women in the church are still having abortions. Why is that?

I strongly suspect that the abortion rate is about more than economic hardship. I suspect that, for women in the church, abortion also results from the tremendous shame associated with this kind of mistake. Shame is a powerful motivator, after all. If the goal is behavior modification, shame is a great tool for promoting modesty and chastity. Whether a pastor publicly condemns women for showing too much sin, or women secretly gossip about a church member who is overly flirtatious, each tactic encourages behavioral conformity quite well. No one wants to be on the receiving ends of those judgments.

Shame-based rules are effective indeed, but they also have an ugly flip side. Shame addresses the behavior and not the heart, thereby promoting an appearance of perfection regardless of reality. When a couple mistakenly deviates, shame motivates them to cover up the mistake. In this way, shame encourages hiddenness for the sake of appearances.

Abortion, then, is one terrible consequence of shame-based rhetoric about sex and modesty. Through abortion, Christian women are able to maintain the outward appearance of virtue. Abortion delivers women from the threat of communal shame.

To be sure, sin has necessary consequences. We cannot alleviate all the negative outcomes of sex outside of marriage, nor is that necessarily the goal. What we should be about, in addition to supporting unwed mothers who choose not to abort, is the clear communication of forgiveness and mercy BEFORE the day of that decision ever comes. Our churches should be a safe place in which women strive after holiness but also expect redemption and love whenever they fall short.

So as I close, I want to end with just that message. If you are reading this and you are currently in a difficult spot, or if one day in the future you find yourself pregnant and unmarried, please know that there is a place for you in Christ’s community! There are Christians who yearn to love you and care for you and support you, as well as your precious child! Even though you may feel utterly alone, you are not. God will work healing and wholeness through His people, so don’t be enslaved to shame another day. Christ crucified your guilt on the cross, so let his healing mercy embrace you. He loves you, we love you, and we are here for you and your child!

Last week I shared Part 1 of an excerpt from Amy Julia Becker’s new memoir A Good and Perfect Gift. Below is the compelling conclusion to that excerpt. I hope it will stir you as much as it did me.

Two quick items before I leave you with her story. Amy Julia will be guest blogging on the New York Times’ parenting blog, Motherlode, some time later this week. Keep an eye out for her!

Also, you may or may not have heard about an emerging trend of lawsuits in which parents cite a “wrongful birth” or “wrongful life.” In these cases, parents of children with disabilities sue their doctors for not informing them of their babies’ health problems, claiming that they would have aborted their children had they been properly informed. These lawsuits, quite honestly, make my stomach turn, however Amy Julia recently wrote a response that was a check on my spirit. Her words were so filled with Christlike grace and love that I was instantly humbled. It is a must read.

Now with out further ado, the conclusion to an excerpt from the beautiful book, A Good and Perfect Gift:

___________________

I didn’t have time to try to articulate my thoughts. Peter wheeled Penny back in just as Mom and Dad walked through the door. She was fast asleep and swaddled tight. They crowded around. Her skin was smooth now, with a hint of olive underneath her pink cheeks. Peter picked her up and handed her to Dad. “Here you go, Grandpa.”

On the surface, we were introducing the firstborn grandchild to her grandfather. Big smiles. Oohs and aahs about how cute she was. But there was an undercurrent of hesitation. How do we say, Congratulations and I’m sorry? How do we celebrate and grieve at the same moment?

Dad lowered himself into a chair with Penny. I couldn’t remember seeing him with an infant before. He held his body stiffly, shoulders hunched, using only his arms to hold her. He looked the same as ever—khakis, loafers, a buttoned-down shirt with a frayed collar, a blue wool sweater with a few stains. But I had to wonder if he would become someone different, now that he was a grandfather. Now that Penny was his granddaughter. She slept without stirring, and he smiled.

A new nurse walked in and started talking to Mom. “Just so you know, Penny’s bilirubin level is still higher than we want. That’s why she looks a little jaundiced. But as long as it stays where it is, we’re in good shape.”

Mom interrupted, “Um, Penny’s mom is right here.” She pointed to me.

“Oh!” the nurse said. “I’m sorry. You look so comfortable for a woman who just gave birth. I thought you were one of the sisters. I heard there were a lot of them.”

“Two more on the way,” I said.

“How’s your pain?” the nurse asked.

Labor and delivery had been a lot easier than I had expected. “I’ve been taking the Motrin and using ice packs. It’s really not that bad.”

Kate said, “She comes from a long line of stoic New England women.”

The nurse gave a short laugh. “All right. Well, call if you need me.”

Soon enough, we were sharing memories of the past few days, as if they had happened a long time ago. Mom talked again about how she had known something was wrong, how Penny had looked so floppy on the examining table. Kate mentioned her tears. Dad said he hadn’t been able to sleep on Friday night. “I’ve got a cold sore,” he noted, pointing to a bump on his lip.

I felt a strange urge to apologize, although I knew that none of them were looking for consolation, especially not from me. With Penny in the room, beautiful, peaceful, there was also a sense that it had been a false alarm, that all the fear and stress and sadness was for nothing.

Kate went over to Dad and said, “All right, Grandpa, hand her over.” She put her face close to Penny and bumped noses. After she sat down, she said, “Did any of you hear them on Friday night in the room next door?”

I had a vague recollection of shouts of praise through the wall.

“Yeah,” Peter said. “They had a baby girl a few hours after Penny.”

“But did you hear what they said?” Kate asked. “It was right after we’d gotten back from dinner. I walked into this room to see Age crying, and I knew there was something wrong. And just a few minutes after you told us, there was all this happy shouting next door. I heard someone say, ‘She’s perfect! She’s perfect!’ over and over. It was so weird.”

I hadn’t heard those exclamations. I looked at Penny in Kate’s arms. All the medical terminology implied anything but perfection. Birth defect. Chromosomal abnormality.

Kate bumped Penny’s nose with her own again and gave her a kiss.

“What I want to figure out is whether Down syndrome is a mistake,” I said. “I know that scientists and doctors would say that it is.” I gestured toward the papers on the table. “But how do I think about it in terms of God? Is it a manifestation of sin in the world? Is Penny less perfect than that little girl who was born next door?”

The room stayed silent. I thought back to the moment I first felt Penny kick. We were in Rome, living in a dorm room. Peter was there on a Fulbright scholarship with twenty other high school teachers. At least once each night I got out of our bed and walked across the linoleum floor to the communal bathroom. One of those nights, in mid-July, I couldn’t fall back to sleep. And that’s when I first felt her move. A flutter below my belly button. And then another. And three more. Hello, little one.

How could she be a mistake?

I looked up when Mom spoke, in her gentle, level voice. “The only evidence of sin that I see in Penny’s birth is in how we respond to her.”

It was as if I had been looking through a kaleidoscope and it turned a notch. All the same pieces and parts, the same colors even, but a totally new pattern. A new way of seeing.

For the first time in months, I remembered those words in the car before Penny was born. But if you had waited, then you wouldn’t have had this child.

This child.

Ladies, I have a special treat for you today!

One of the greatest blessings of this past year has been connecting with other female Christian writers. Since becoming a regular contributor to Her.meneutics, I have grown to love and admire the other regular contributors (among whom I am the LEAST impressive!). Each one has a special message that God has given her to share, so I hope you will pay attention to them!

As these new friendships have grown, I realized it is silly not to share the incredible writing that they are producing, so I have decided to begin featuring their new books on She Worships. In doing so, I hope to provide you with additional resources that are not only BRAND NEW (ie. cutting edge–Now you can be one of the cool kids who gets to say, “Oh I read that book way before it became a New York Times Bestseller!”) but also spiritually solid.

With that in mind, it is my privilege to introduce you to Amy Julia Becker, who just released her memoir titled A Good and Perfect Gift: Faith, Expectations, and a Little Girl Named Penny. Amy Julia’s daughter, Penny, was born with Down syndrome and this book recounts the details of Penny’s first year of life.

A Princeton grad, Amy Julia is as sharp as a tack but she also writes with power, emotion and careful theological reflection. Her book is already garnering a LOT of praise, and I should also add that her last book, Penelope Ayers: A Memoir, was among Andy Crouch’s favorite books in 2009.

Today I am posting Part 1 (Part 2 to follow) of an excerpt from Amy Julia’s book. These two excerpts give us a window into the happenings of Amy Julia’s life two days after Penny was born. I know you will find yourself both moved and challenged by her words, so keep your eyes peeled for Part 2 of this excerpt from A Good and Perfect Gift.

________________________

Everyone in my family was due to return that day. Kate arrived first, her long blonde hair swept back in a ponytail, no makeup, red eyes. Suddenly I felt like an older sister again, as she brushed away another tear with the back of her hand. I stood to greet her with a long hug.

After a loud exhale, Kate squared her shoulders and said, “Mom and Dad will be here soon. They’re just parking the car. How’s Penny?”

“She’s great,” I said, as we both sat down. I pulled my legs towards my chest. “They say her heart is fine and her temperature is starting to get more stable. And she’s nursing well. She’s great.”

“How are you?”

“Better,” I said, realizing as I spoke that it was true. I hadn’t cried much the day before. Those hours had held a frightening calm, like the eye of a hurricane. It was different now. The calm felt peaceful, not ominous. “I think we’re going to be fine. I’m starting to learn about Down syndrome—” I motioned to the papers nearby—“and Peter’s doing a lot better . . .” I trailed off.

“You’re crazy,” she said. Her tone was gentle, with a hint of humor. “I spent the whole day crying yesterday. I cried the whole ride down here. And here you are in real clothes, acting so normal, like having a Down syndrome baby is no big deal.”

I shrugged. Kate knew me well enough to understand that I had to think for a while before I would be able to feel much of anything. More tears would come, and probably some anger and hurt and guilt and fear. I could predict the emotions, but I couldn’t access them. For now, I had to work it out in my head. I had to construct a plan. And I needed some answers. Some of my questions were practical. The pediatrician had said Penny would need physical therapy—How do we set that up? Will insurance pay for it? And I wanted to meet all the other Downs babies—or, as the information packet would have it, babies with Down syndrome—in the area. Where were they? And then there were the health concerns. How would we find the right doctors? Who would check her hearing and her eyesight and everything else?

There was another set of questions, questions that weren’t so easily answered by phone calls or a reference book. I hadn’t realized it until we received Penny’s diagnosis, but I had come into the hospital with a grid that ordered my sense of how the world worked. I believed that all people were created in the image of God, that every human being bore the mark of God’s goodness and light. But I also believed that everything that went wrong in the world was a consequence of sin. I didn’t think that God was doling out tornados or cancer or malaria as punishment for us doing bad things or something like that. I just believed that ultimately all the pain and injustice in the world could be traced back, somehow, to the human refusal to love God. The first human choice of self over God sent suffering and discord everywhere, like a fault line tearing through the universe.

Before Penny was born, I would have assumed that an extra chromosome was just that, a crack in the cosmos, evidence of the fractured nature of all creation. But how could I imagine such a thing about my daughter? I couldn’t figure it out.

For those of you who have been reading my blog for awhile, you know that my husband and I have practiced Natural Family Planning (NFP) ever since we got married. I’ve written a number of posts about the system and why we chose it, but in case you missed them here is a brief description:

Rather than avoid pregnancy through the use of contraceptive pills or other artificial contraceptive means, NFP teaches couples to learn the physical signs of a woman’s fertility and abstain from sex when it is more likely to result in pregnancy. The reasons for this practice are two-fold: Couples not only avoid the potential abortive effects of some contraceptive pills, but they also aim to reflect God’s original design for marital intimacy, believing that sex is itself a reflection of God’s character and self-giving love.

There is much, much more to it than that, but that is a little taste of the method and motives behind it. Ike and I first considered the practice because of our pro-life beliefs, but after taking a class at a local Catholic church (which I HIGHLY recommend if you intend to try it) we were further affirmed by the theological reasons behind the practice.

Now that we’ve been married about a year and a half, I thought I would update you on how it’s going. There is a lot of fear surrounding the practice (I can’t tell you how many people “warned” us that we would get pregnant right away!) and the topic raises a lot of questions about how Christians talk about life. I’ve covered those issues in other posts that you can read here and here, but today I want to share with you how the practice has shaped my views on having children.

This past Fall was a very special time in my life because several of my best friends had babies. My heart has been so full of joy to watch these amazing women transition into motherhood with such grace and ease, and I will never forget the words of one friend about a week after she’d given birth. I asked her what it was like to finally meet her daughter and she replied, “It’s like she’s always been a part of us. It’s almost as if I can’t remember what life was like without her.”

I don’t know if most new mothers feel this way, but what she said was a profound theological statement. Whenever we think of our future children or even our future spouse, it’s often a blurry, abstract notion that is difficult to conceive in concrete terms. As a result of this distance, it’s easy to talk about them in disconnected, non-relational ways. We have lists of attributes we want in a husband (ie. he’s going to be tall, blond, play the guitar and like dogs) or we have timetables for our kids. In short, we talk about these future individuals the way we talk about purchasing a new car or planning a vacation.

The chronological distance also results in life choices that are, in a sense, disrespectful to our future loved ones. We give too much of ourselves away to other lovers before we get married, or we cement bad habits that are not conducive to good parenting. Only in hindsight do we look back and wish we could tell our younger selves, “You’re going to regret this! This behavior will hurt your future husband and it will damage your credibility with your kids!”

But we don’t have that benefit. So we live as if those future loved ones don’t exist. Because to us, they don’t.

However, God is not bound by the same limited vision. In fact, He isn’t bound by time at all. He knew Ike was my husband before either one of us was born. And if I am meant to have children, God already knows them, and their children too.

What does this have to do with NFP? As Ike and I continue to reflect on the theological reasons behind our choice, I am challenged to guard my language about having children. NFP encourages you to maintain a posture of openness to life whenever it comes, and that is a perspective I really need in a world that puts everything, even precious babies, on a self-determined schedule.

That is not to say that we aren’t trying to be good stewards of our time and money as we pray through the best time to start a family. But NFP does help me to maintain a healthy balance. It discourages me from talking about my children in a way that sounds more like a hair appointment than a human who bears the image of God, a human who is very much alive in the mind of God.

And while this may seem like nothing more than semantics, let me reassure you that there is much more at stake. From the very example of God we see that words matter. God used words to speak creation into existence, and our language has the same power to create, as well as destroy. The way we talk about children shapes our cultural and spiritual imagination. We might claim to be pro-life, but our language can lead our hearts and minds toward a more culturally-determined perspective.

As Ike and I continue down this path, God continues His faithfulness to us in it. We have learned so much about each other, about marriage, love, intimacy, self-discipline, and family planning. Not only is NFP still an expression of our Christian faith, but it is also teaching us to be good parents.

In my last post I examined two of what I consider to be the “clear” practices of in-vitro fertilization that conflict with the Christian belief in the sanctity of life. In particular, I addressed the practices of discarding embryos and freezing embryos. In this post, I want to take a step back and look at the more subtle issues in play. For those of us who have not yet arrived at a stage in life at which this is a current issue, it is still critical that we think about it. In the same way that I made a decision about birth control long before I was ever married, it’s important to think through these issues from a theological and Scriptural perspective before you’re in the thick of it.

That said, I admit that I have not been faced with the grief of infertility. While I have decided that regardless of my ability to conceive naturally, I do not wish to try IVF–a step of faith that has indeed been a difficult one for me–I have not endured the pain of it first-hand. That fact may decrease my credibility in the eyes of some. I do, however, ask you to keep an open mind.  When it comes to issues surrounding pro-life, Christians are eager to tell other women what to do with their bodies, but when the pro-life lens turns to focus on our own lives, we are just as prone as our pro-choice sisters to declare, “You can’t tell me what to do with my body.”

The truth is that being pro-life demands personal sacrifice and faith. Admitting that the Ultimate Determiner of each human’s value is God, and that it is Him, not us, who directs us in upholding the sanctity of the divine image in each person–those are counter-cultural stances that require us to surrender our rights, lay ourselves before God, and confess that He alone is in control. God has the final claim on our bodies, which means that we need to think carefully, theologically, and most of all Scripturally about the process of IVF. With that in mind, I hope the following issues will create helpful reflection:

1. The Value and Dignity of Human Life–One of the tricky things about IVF is that it is driven by the desire to have children, a desire that is rooted in a great value of human life. However, there are aspects of the IVF process that have the potential to trample human value in the very pursuit of it. In order to understand how, I want to introduce you to the idea of commodification.

This philosophical and sociological term can be used to mean a lot of different things in many different contexts, but in this context it refers to the transformation of a person or relationship into a product or “commodity.” Numerous philosophers have warned against the pitfalls of commodification because of the mindset behind it. When we start talking about humans in non-human terms, we are more likely to treat people in non-human ways. Bosses stop thinking about their employees as people with families, but instead as “labor.” News outlets describe the wartime deaths of women and children as civilians “casualties.” And in the growing practice of surrogacy, couples view other women’s bodies as little more than incubators to house their growing babies (It should also be noted that these incubators come especially cheap in other countries, hence the trend of hiring Indian women to be surrogates).

Now there are aspects of IVF that have wandered into the category of commodification. When you hear language about creating more embryos to “increase your odds” of pregnancy, and when large numbers of embryos are being frozen in “banks”, we have entered dangerous territory. Notice how this language is similar to the way we talk about money and finance. When we use consumer language to talk about life and human dignity, our worldview and our lifestyles are soon to follow.

2. Biological v. Adopted Children–While the process of IVF is rather costly, it’s not quite as expensive as international adoption, which is one of the reasons why couples struggling with infertility choose IVF (although it should be noted that in some states, domestic adoption is free!). However, the main reason that IVF is such a compelling option is that many couples want “a child of their own.” That is to say, a biological one.

I debated over whether to put this point under the category of human value because the two are very much related. Although I can certainly relate to the desire to have a biological child, I have to be careful about using language that perceives the value or “realness” or belonging of an adopted child as somehow inferior. A child is a gift no matter how she comes into the world, and she is no less of a “real child” in her adoptive family.

As Christians, we have a special stake in this discussion. We are redeemed children of God, which means we have ALL been adopted into His family. And despite our “adopted” statuses, we will not be second class citizens in the Kingdom of God–we will belong there, with our Heavenly Father, in a perfect relationship with Him.

In light of the above considerations, it’s important for all Christians to consider adoption. Earthly adoption is a testimony to our heavenly adoption. We are also compelled by Scripture to care for orphans (James 1:27), and there are millions in the world for whom care is needed. So whether you struggle with fertility or not, this is a perspective that warrants our prayer and consideration. If Christians are ever able to value adopted children with the same delight that we value biological ones, then hopefully the decision to adopt will not seem like a “Plan B” or worst case scenario when all other options have failed, but will instead be a glorious gift to our families.

3. A Theological Response to IVF:

This final section could have been a blog post all to itself (or several!). Theologians and pastors have numerous objections to the practice of IVF on theological grounds. It divorces the creation of  life from the procreative intimacy between a husband and wife–making it more about technology than a sacred act. And as Christian ethicist Oliver O’Donovan explains, “the biblical language reminds us that we are begotten, not merely made. This is not a semantic irrelevancy. Our language betrays our understanding of the meaning of human procreation.”

While those points are all theologically significant, the abstractness of the concepts can cause them to be difficult to engage on a practical level. So for now, I only want to focus on two verses that provide us with a great deal of insight. Proverbs 30:15-16:

“There are three things that are never satisfied, four that never say, ‘Enough!’: the grave, the barren womb, land, which is never satisfied with water, and fire, which never says, ‘Enough!’

Nowhere is the truth of this verse more evident than in the Old Testament, where infertility was frequently described as a terrible blight. Women like Rebekah and Hannah suffered through the pain of barrenness and prayed for deliverance from it. It even pushed Sarah to sin in her grief by handing her husband, Abraham, over to another woman. Clearly, infertility strikes at the very heart of a woman and wounds her in a way that seems utterly insatiable.

Yet it is this aspect of infertility that we must watch with a cautious eye. Sarah’s inability to find satisfaction in her barren state drove her to trample wisdom and morality. From her story we are reminded that whenever a desire is that strong, that consuming, we must proceed with care. Although God created women with the desire to have children, a desire that can never say “enough” is misplaced. It betrays an idolatry. It reveals that we have crossed a line into finding our value and meaning from the ability to have children. Any desire that refuses to be satisfied, other than the desire for God, has the potential to exercise great power over us in dangerous, ungodly ways.

While I am still grappling with the ethics of IVF and it is difficult for me to take a definitive stand, Proverbs 30:15-16 is a powerful warning about the consequences of not taking IVF seriously. While I would not venture to call IVF a sin, I do believe that if we give biological motherhood too high a place in our hearts we WILL sin as a result–whether it is in the process of creating life, or later on as a parent. That is the nature of idolatry.

So I encourage you to wrestle with these issues in prayer and Scriptural study. Even if you’re not a mother, or even a woman, I also urge you to talk about it. While this discussion requires a particular kind of sympathy, sensitivity and care, we ALL have a voice in this conversation as connected members of One Body, the Body of Christ. Infertility is indeed a painful journey, so we must walk the path together in love, unity, and truth.

For the last several months I debated whether to write a post about the increasingly common practice of in-vitro fertilization. Even within the church, this is an extremely sensitive topic due to the number of Christian families who have chosen the route of IVF and now have beautiful children as a result. There is not a lot of space to wrestle with this issue without seemingly calling into question the validity of these children’s lives.

However, two weeks ago Robert Edwards was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for developing the IVF procedure, resulting in the very first “test tube baby” in 1978. Upon winning the award, news outlets everywhere covered the story with headlines celebrating the “millions of babies” who have been born in the last 30 years. Given that millions of babies have also been aborted in that same amount of time, this seems like a glaring ideological inconsistency in how our nation values life and understands our place in the creation of it. It also compelled me to finally take on this topic. As a Christian who values life and considers every human being to contain the image of God, I need to be talking about this.

But before I begin, I have to be clear about something. If you are reading this and you have a child/children through the process of IVF, I am not calling into question their moral value. Every human life is a glorious gift from God–which is exactly why this topic is important. While I celebrate the life of every child, regardless of how they came into the world, it is still important that we reflect upon this process and whether it is fully consistent with a Scriptural worldview.

With ALL of these things in mind, I have divided my reflections into two categories: The clear areas and the gray areas. In today’s post I am going to look at two clear areas and I would love to hear your input as you think through this yourself. In Part 2 of this examination I will reflect on the less clear areas that are more philosophical in nature, but are no less practical:

The Clear Areas

Whenever the topic of IVF comes up, there are some gray areas to be sure. It can be hard to know how fully we should embrace technology. Much of technology is a true gift, but just because we can do something does not necessarily mean we should. That said, in the field of IVF there are some practices that are clearly in conflict with the Christian belief in human dignity and the image of God in every person. I have highlighted two here:

1. The Destruction of Unused Embryos–After a successful conception, some couples discard the extra embryos that they created but no longer wish to use. In 2008 The Times reported the destruction of over 1 million “waste embryos” during a 14 year period at a clinic in the UK. Once this number was released there was a public outcry, calling for an immediate reduction of this number. It is difficult to discern how the destruction of one million embryos is any different from the destruction of one, but suffice it to say that the community had a visceral reaction to such a sweeping number.

As Christians, it is important that we are clearly opposed to this practice. It is ironic that Christians are so notably opposed to stem cell research–which, at the very least, uses human embryos for a purpose–but are rather quiet when it comes to this complete and total wastefulness of embryos discarded in the IVF process.

2. Freezing Embryos–When a couple creates embryos that they do not wish to use right away, or if a couple chooses to donate their embryos to infertile couples or science, the embryos are frozen. Embryos can be preserved for up to 10 years and still be used to produce healthy baby boys and girls.

My feelings about this practice were best summarized by Al Mohler, the President of Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, who asked, “How does a couple (or an individual) deal with the knowledge that their genetic offspring are suspended in a state of frozen non-existence?” This is an important question to ask when considering this process. The act of freezing a human life as it is just beginning, maintaining it in a “state of biological suspension” as Mohler put it, is not only a dehumanizing act but dishonors the image of God within each tiny being, and must therefore be rejected as a Christian practice.

Although there are other elements of the IVF process that Christians consider to be clear and objectionable (the Catholic Church takes a very firm stance of opposition against the WHOLE process), these two elements are, in my mind, the most incontrovertible. If you consider yourself to be pro-life, then the above practices are not consistent with your beliefs.

In my next post I’ll take a look at the “gray areas.” They are not gray because they are morally ambiguous, but because they are more abstract. Sometimes it’s hard to conceive of the consequences of our actions, but we need to be asking those questions. Where will our current understanding and treatment of human life lead us in the following decades? Should Christians in any way endorse an industry that leads to the destruction of human embryos? How are we to think through IVF and  infertility when there are so many orphans around the world? These are all questions that I’ll take a look at in the next post.

This week has been a dark one in the life of our church. Our college pastor and his wife lost their precious baby boy after he was born prematurely at 27 weeks, and he lived just 24 hours. Everyone who knew the family has been absolutely devastated. A funeral was held on Friday at which the church community came together to mourn alongside of them. In the midst of tragic circumstances, the service was truly glorifying to God and a great reminder of the hope we have in Christ amidst the pain of this world. It also made me oh so grateful for the gift of the church–when Christians grieve, they never do so alone.

Since attending the funeral I have been reflecting on it a lot the last few days. In particular, I’ve been thinking a lot about how we mourn the loss of a child. I have a number of friends who have lost babies in miscarriages but I have never attended a funeral for one, nor did the idea even cross my mind. And while this most recent tragedy was not a miscarriage, the young age of this sweet boy has led me to ponder how we grieve the loss of children even younger.

Friday’s service was a beautiful picture of the church. It was an opportunity to acknowledge the pain of the loss. It was a chance to surround the grieving family and lift them up with love and prayer. It was also an important part of their healing process. And all of this leads me to wonder why we don’t do the same for mothers who have suffered a miscarriage. The loss is no less devastating; it simply occurs at an earlier stage.

As someone who affirms the value of life at every moment after conception, this seems like an inconsistency. Without passing judgment on how a family grieves a miscarriage, I would hate to think that a family felt they could not have a funeral simply because it “isn’t done” or because their baby was not old enough to be remembered in a formal service. When enduring the tremendous tragedy of such a loss, at any stage, shouldn’t we be surrounding families and lifting them up as a church community? Shouldn’t we be affirming the validity of their grief by acknowledging the very real life that was lost? Shouldn’t we be mourning with them and praising God for the life their child had, however short it may have been?

I myself have never lost a child through miscarriage so I cannot answer these questions on behalf of the mothers who have. What’s more, I do not mean to imply that there are no communities who observe the loss of an unborn child with a funeral. I am guessing there probably are. But as for the rest of us, this is an issue that warrants our reflection. How do we care for mothers grieving over a miscarriage? And is there a noticeable difference between how we respond to the loss of an unborn child versus a born child?

At the heart of these questions lies our beliefs about the sanctity and equal value of ALL life, but our answers to these questions also say a lot about who we are as a community. Friday’s service was important for the family we came to love and support. It was also a witness to the power of Christ’s Body at work. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if every family received this kind of out-pouring in the event of such a loss?

That is a question I will continue to ponder. In the mean time, please keep this sweet family in your prayers as they need courage and healing in the days ahead!

I have written about Margaret Sanger before (click here for a more in depth blog on her life), but in short she coined the term “birth control” and was the founder of Planned Parenthood. A controversial figure in history, she is commended by some as an activist for women’s rights, and vilified by others for her racist ideology.

Of particular note was her emphasis on eugenics. Eugenics refers to the purging of the human race, purifying it of weak or less desirable individuals through selective breeding and birth control. Eugenics was the driving ideology behind the Nazi Holocaust.

Some pro-choice advocates have attempted to downplay Planned Parenthood’s beginnings by arguing that Sanger’s eugenics ideology has been over-stated. Given that she published articles with titles such as “Some Moral Aspects of Eugenics” (June 1920), “The Eugenic Conscience” (February 1921), “The purpose of Eugenics” (December 1924), “Birth Control and Positive Eugenics” (July 1925), and “Birth Control: The True Eugenics” (August 1928), I’m not sure their argument holds much grounding.

But for further proof, I offer you the following interview with Mike Wallace from 1957. Towards the end of the interview she states that “the greatest sin is to bring children into the world who have disease from their parents and have no chance to be a human being, practically–delinquents, prisoners, and all sorts of people who are marked when they’re born.” That is eugenics language. The interview is also fascinating and slightly weird given that she denies having stated many of the quotations Mike Wallace asks her about.

Also, I can’t help but snicker at Mike Wallace’s endorsements of Philip Morris running throughout the interview. What the heck is a “man’s kind of mildness” anyways?

To view the video click here and then scroll way down. Let me know what you think.

A couple months ago I came across an interesting quote from one of my former professors at Duke Divinity School about the pro-life discussion. His name is Stanley Hauerwas and he’s a noted Christian ethicist. I appreciate his work because he always offers a different perspective on things I take for granted. He’s got an uncanny knack for stepping outside the typical discussions that Christians have and looking at them from a fresh angle.

This quote is no exception:

“When you frame the abortion issue in sacredness-of-life language, you get into intractable debates about when life begins. Notice that is an issue for legalists. By that I mean the fundamental question becomes, How do you avoid doing the wrong thing? In contrast, the Christian approach is not one of deciding when has life begun, but hoping that it has. We hope that human life has begun! We are not the kind of people that ask, Does human life start at the blastocyst stage, or at implantation? Instead, we are the kind of people that hope life has started, because we are ready to believe that this new life will enrich our community.” (from “Abortion Theological Understood”)

What I like about this perspective is the idea that hope, not pragmatism or science, is the primary lens with which he approaches the issue. We know that every human being is a miracle and that every human being has been made in the image of God, so there is no point at which such a miracle is a blight on our community. There is no point at which we should aim to short-circuit such a miracle.

Instead, we should hope to see this miracle all around us. And it is no less a miracle when and where it occurs. The child born to a poor family of 10 in Bangladesh is no less precious in the eyes of God and no less a reflection of Him, than the child born to a wealthy American family that is having trouble conceiving.

Such a perspective also has implications for discussions about population control. Can we ever have too many “images of God” running around? We are, after all, talking about humans, not deer.

What do you think about this perspective? I’m still processing it but it certainly turns the discussion on its head. I especially wanna hear from some of you med students and doctors out there. What would this perspective mean for dealing with contraceptives if Christians are always called to hope that the miracle of God’s image has come into being? It’s certainly something to think about.

I will close with this verse from Jeremiah 1:5, which also takes this whole discussion out of our hands and puts it into God’s:

“Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you.”

Perhaps life begins long before we give it credit for.

About a year ago I wrote a post about a prophetic warning written by the Pope 40 years ago about the cultural consequences of using contraception. Since that time, my then-fiancé and I decided to begin the journey of Natural Family Planning, which I’ve written about it some here.

Ike and I have been married now for about 2 and a half months, and so far NFP has already been quite a blessing. It’s compelled us to talk about a lot of things that we might not have otherwise done, and has been an important part of our growing intimacy with one another, as well as building an important theological foundation for our future family.

So today I want to repost a blog that was written around the time that we embarked on this journey. What I didn’t write when I first posted it is that this information was given to us by a priest that Ike and I happened to sit next to on a plane. We were not yet engaged but we were planning on marriage and in the midst of wrestling through this big issue. As God would have it, we crossed paths with this godly man who happened to be involved in a tremendous amount of pro-life work such as teaching, and fundraising for young mothers. He was very wise and offered us a lot of insight we hadn’t before considered. We both felt that God spoke through him to confirm a lot of what we’d been considering. We are very grateful to him.

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Forty years ago Pope Paul VI released a statement on contraception that, looking back, was stunningly prophetic.

The essay, entitled Humanae Vitae (”Of Human Life”), was written at a time in American history when contraceptive pills were becoming very popular. Women across the country were celebrating their newfound freedom as the history of American sexuality turned a new page.

The Catholic Church, however, was singing a different tune. Unlike the many women who rejoiced over the changing cultural tides, the Pope raised a voice of concern, a concern that we can now see was completely warranted.

Although the Catholic Church’s position on contraception has been debated among Christians (Catholics put a heavy priority on the procreative purpose of sex, whereas many other Christians do not), there is one point on which the Pope was completely right.

If only we’d listened.

What follows is an excerpt from Humanae Vitae in which Pope Paul VI projects the cultural implications of contraception. His predictions could not have been more accurate, and I have posted this today because of the profound impact it has had for women since:

Another effect that gives cause for alarm is that a man who grows accustomed to the use of contraceptive methods may forget the reverence due to a woman, and, disregarding her physical and emotional equilibrium, reduce her to being a mere instrument for the satisfaction of his own desires, no longer considering her as his partner whom he should surround with care and affection.

Did you get that?

FORTY YEARS AGO, Pope Paul VI predicted the exact situation that we find ourselves in today. He warned that the practice of hormonal contraception would divorce the responsibility of sex from the act of sex. He also feared that, as a result of this divorce, men would no longer need to guard the sanctity of sex, thereby leading them to treat women and sex in a recklessly casual way.

And his fears came true.

Sex without consequences. That is what the contraceptive revolution bought our country. And what do you think happens when we cheapen the price of a costly good? We no longer value it quite so highly.

Pope Paul VI was exactly right.

So while the contraceptive pill seemed like a gateway to women’s freedom and a means for valuing the female life even more, it instead devalued women, giving men the freedom to use them for sexual gratification without weighing the implications of their actions.

Now I write all of this not as a diatribe against the practice of contraception, but to caution us about considering the ideological impacts of the decisions we make. Just because science develops a solution to making our lives easier or providing us with a convenient short-cut does not mean we should embrace it.

Whenever we seek to relieve ourselves of divinely placed forms of accountability and responsibility, we forget that God created those measures for our own protection. Sex is about more than just procreation, but the fact that sexual intercourse leads to the birth of a new human life should cause us to approach the act of sex soberly and reverently.

While the contraceptive pill can’t take all the blame for the objectification of women and the number of absent fathers in our nation, it certainly played its own part. In a consumer-driven culture that wants what it wants right now, we have taken a thousand tiny steps in the wrong direction, and those tiny steps add up to a society that has wandered horribly off the path of truth.

No, the contraceptive pill is not, in itself, an evil, but blank-check contraceptive practices do not coincide well with a Scriptural view on marriage, family and sex. It is time we start examining why. I hope you will ask yourself that question.