Hope

Five Iron Frenzy was one of my favorite Christian bands in college and grad school. They were (or are - they got back together in 2011 after a nine-year hiatus) a Christian ska punk band, with an incredibly broad gamut of songs ranging from the absolutely ridiculous (“These Are Not My Pants (The Rock Opera)”) to passionate faith-based criticism of consumerism and racism to heartfelt worship. I hadn’t followed them in several years, so I was surprised and dismayed to hear last month that two of the band’s eight members had left the faith. As explained by Wikipedia:

In 1998, Scott Kerr chose to leave Five Iron Frenzy after renouncing his Christian faith. According to Kerr, he had begun experiencing doubts in high school which eventually came to a head during his time touring with Five Iron. In an attempt to reconcile his faith, Kerr fervently studied Christian apologetics - which he ultimately found “not persuasive and, at worst, intellectually disingenuous” - as well as works by David Hume and Bertrand Russell before deciding to leave Christianity. Though Kerr recalls the band accepting his revelation and decision to leave, [lead singer Reese] Roper remorsefully recalled souring the relationship between them by him “pushing Jesus on [Kerr] when he needed me to just be his friend”…

Andrew Verdecchio experienced a similar loss of faith during the early 2000s, following the death of his father and the events of the September 11 attacks. Verdecchio largely recalls the comments of conservative commentators Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell blaming the cause of the attacks on homosexuals for driving a wedge between himself and Christianity, leading him to seriously question his beliefs and role within a Christian band. Like Kerr, Verdecchio attempted to study apologetics “because I didn’t want to not believe it”, though said “the more I read these books and tried to convince myself, the less convinced I was”.

Last month was hard.

We had ongoing health challenges in my immediate family. My great-aunt passed away due to COVID. One of my son’s classmates committed suicide. I’ve had several setbacks at work. The ongoing pandemic is getting to me. The relentless division and hostility in our politics is really getting to me. I can go on Facebook and see friends who I loved and looked up to from Bible college now going through their own struggles and losses in faith, ministry, and marriage. November has been better, but I’m still dealing with family health issues and reading about skyrocketing numbers of COVID cases, a tense and bitterly contested election, and the death of someone who’s meant a lot to me. Reading about two of Five Iron Frenzy’s members leaving the faith felt like one more blow.

I need hope.

The Lord’s loyal kindness never ceases; his compassions never end. They are fresh every morning; your faithfulness is abundant!

— Lamentations 3:22-23, written upon the fall of Jerusalem and exile of the Israelites into Babylon

Hope is expectation of the good. It is linked with trust and yearning, and differentiated from fear… It is not a dream that offers comfort but may also be illusory. The life of the righteous is grounded in a hope that implies a future because its point of reference is God. To hope is to trust. It is demanded even in the good times. It is not our own projection but confidence in what God will do. God is our hope… Hope looks to him whom none can control. It is thus freed from anxiety… If God helps in present distress, he will finally put an end to all distress.

— article by R. Bultmann in Theological Dictionary of the New Testament

As for me, I know that my Redeemer lives,
and that as the last
he will stand upon the earth.
And after my skin has been destroyed,
yet in my flesh I will see God,

— Job 19:25-26, spoken after he loses his wealth, family, and health, and while he is convinced that God is treating him unjustly

I love how Kay Warren puts it in her book Choose Joy: Because Happiness Isn’t Enough. She says, Joy is the settled assurance that God is in control of all the details of my life, the quiet confidence that ultimately everything is going to be all right, and the determined choice to praise God in every situation. Hope is something that is birthed out of joy. If I truly believe that God is in control of the details of my life, if I really understand that ultimately everything is going to be all right, and if I choose to praise God in every situation, a space opens up in my soul that allows me to dream, to pray, to hope.

— Plumb, Need You Now

When the fig tree does not bud,
and there are no grapes on the vines;
when the olive trees do not produce
and the fields yield no crops;
when the sheep disappear from the pen
and there are no cattle in the stalls—
I will rejoice because of the Lord;
I will be happy because of the God who delivers me!
The Sovereign Lord is my source of strength.
He gives me the agility of a deer;
he enables me to negotiate the rugged terrain.

— Habakkuk 3:17-19

The brief glow [of the setting Sun] fell upon a huge sitting figure, still and solemn as the great stone kings of Argonath. The years had gnawed it, and violent hands had maimed it. Its head was gone, and in its place was set in mockery a round rough-hewn stone, rudely painted by savage hands in the likeness of a grinning face with one large red eye in the middle of its forehead. Upon its knees and mighty chair, and all about the pedestal, were idle scrawls mixed with the foul symbols that the maggot-folk of Mordor used.

Suddenly, caught by the level beams, Frodo saw the old king’s head: it was lying rolled away by the roadside. ‘Look, Sam!’ he cried, startled into speech. ‘Look! The king has got a crown again!’

The eyes were hollow and the carven beard was broken, but about the high stern forehead there was a coronal of silver and gold. A trailing plant with flowers like small white stars had bound itself across the brows as if in reverence for the fallen king, and in the crevices of his stony hear yellow stonecrop gleamed.

‘They cannot conquer forever!’ said Frodo.

— J.R.R. Tolkien, The Two Towers

For I consider that our present sufferings cannot even be compared to the coming glory that will be revealed to us. For the creation eagerly waits for the revelation of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility—not willingly but because of God who subjected it—in hope that the creation itself will also be set free from the bondage of decay into the glorious freedom of God’s children. For we know that the whole creation groans and suffers together until now. Not only this, but we ourselves also, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we eagerly await our adoption, the redemption of our bodies. For in hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope, because who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we eagerly wait for it with endurance.

— Romans 8:18-25

— Taken in our neighborhood in March and April, during the lockdown

But we have this treasure in clay jars, so that the extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us. We are experiencing trouble on every side, but are not crushed; we are perplexed, but not driven to despair; we are persecuted, but not abandoned; we are knocked down, but not destroyed, always carrying around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our body… Therefore we do not despair, but even if our physical body is wearing away, our inner person is being renewed day by day. For our momentary, light suffering is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison.

— 2 Corinthians 4:7-10, 16-17

Three Takes on a Parable

One

[Jesus] also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and treated others with contempt: “Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, prayed thus: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get.’ But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ I tell you, this man went down to his house justified, rather than the other. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.” (Lk 18:9-14)

Usually, when I hear this story, I think, “Wow, I’m glad that I'm not like that Pharisee.”

In doing so, of course, I risk becoming like the Pharisee.

Two

Those of us who’ve been in the church long enough have heard this parable a lot and have (thankfully) to some extent internalized its message. As a result, it’s easy to overlook how revolutionary the Good News is compared to other world religions. Consider, for example, an adaptation of the story as told by Mack Stiles:

Two men went to the mosque to pray. One was a rich man, the other a poor man. The rich man went through his libations and prayers as he did five times a day. As he was praying, he began to have a sexual fantasy about the young wife who lived next door to his home. But he finished his prayers and went home. The poor man stood off at a distance. He came so infrequently to the mosque, that he couldn’t remember the positions for prayer or his libations. But he looked up to heaven, beat his breast, and said, “Forgive me, O Lord, for I’m a sinner.” Who went home justified?…

Mr Stiles says that every Muslim he has asked this question has answered “The rich man.”

Three

Those of us who’ve been in the church long enough have heard this parable a lot and have (sadly) to some extent become overfamiliar with its message. As a result, it’s easy to overlook how revolutionary it is in our own lives. Consider this attempt to update it for more contemporary American culture:

Two people went to church to pray. One was a church elder, and the other was a despised LGBT activist. The church elder stood by himself and prayed this prayer: “I thank you, God, that I am not like other people - cheaters, sinners, adulterers. I’m certainly not like that activist! I go to church three times a week, and I give you a tenth of my income.’ But the LGBT activist stood at a distance and dared not even lift his eyes to heaven as he prayed. Instead, he beat the ground in sorrow, saying, ”O God, be merciful to me, for I am a sinner." I tell you, this activist, not the church elder, returned home justified before God. For those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.

Can a Pro-Life Christian Vote Pro-Choice?

How can a Christian who believes in the sanctity of life and that life begins at conception vote for a pro-choice candidate? I’ve seen this question posed a few times - most recently on Facebook last week - and often seen it discussed in the past. The best expression I’ve seen of that viewpoint was in a 2004 article by J. Budziszewski, “Ballot Box Blues”:

“Just for purposes of argument,” she persisted, “suppose candidate X supported abortion, and candidate Y opposed abortion but supported a war that was unjust… So an unjust war would be a sanctity-of-life issue too, wouldn’t it?”

“It would,” I said, “and an unjust war certainly could be even worse than abortion. But let’s think a little further. To be even worse than abortion, just how bad would the unjust war have to be?… Do you happen to know how many innocent lives are lost each year through legalized abortion?”…

“Just through surgical abortions? We’re running at about 1.2 million a year,” she said. “More than 44 million babies have been killed since abortion was legalized.”…

“So to be worse than abortion,” I asked, “wouldn’t an unjust war have to kill even more than 1.2 million innocent people each year?”

1.2 million innocent lives a year is a lot - enough to supersede almost any other policy question. I found this logic irrefutable, so I’ve reliably voted Republican for almost my entire life.

And yet…

There’s a lot more to Christian faith and values than protecting unborn life. Let’s take a step back from the abortion question and think about what a truly “Christian” approach to politics would look like. Robert O’Callahan, a Christian New Zealander, gives a great description:

A truly Christian party’s key issues would include reminding the voting public that we all sinners against God, in need of repentance and forgiveness that comes through Jesus. The party would proclaim to voters “how hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God” and warn against storing up treasures on earth instead of heaven. It would insist on policies that support “the least of these”. It would find a way to denounce universally popular sins such as greed, gluttony and heterosexual extra-marital sex, and advocate policies that reduce their harm, while visibly observing Paul’s dictum “What business is it of mine to judge those outside the church? Are you not to judge those inside?” A Christian party would follow Jesus’ warning against “those who for a show make lengthy prayers” and downplay their own piety. It would put extraordinary emphasis on honouring the name of Christ by avoiding any sort of lies, corruption or scandal. Its members would show love for their enemies and not retaliate when attacked. If they fail in public, they would confess and repent in public.

That sounds pretty difficult, but it’s what Jesus deserves from any party that claims his name.

Whew. That’s a lot. In tact, I’d go further than O’Callahan; I’d say it sounds just about impossible for a mainstream political party to reliably act like this. Certainly neither the Republican nor Democratic parties do. So maybe that’s too much to ask. Let’s set a lower goal; what would it look like for a political party to reflect Christian values?

For me, that would probably include some combination of the following: Opposition to abortion and assisted suicide (because of the sanctity of human life). A genuine care and concern for the poor (even if there’s plenty of room for debate about what concrete policies best help the poor). Care for the environment (we’re stewards of God’s creation). Opposition to racism (we’re all made in the image of God), including a willingness to wrestle with the legacy of slavery and institutionalized discrimination. Fiscal responsibility (including a willingness to pay a fair share in taxes). Support for the family. Support for families. A commitment to humility and truth-seeking that’s willing to engage with expert advice and outside consensus. A skepticism toward big government and a willingness to limit its power (because we’re fallen, and power corrupts). A skepticism toward big corporations and a willingness to regulate them (because we’re fallen, and power corrupts them, too). Vigorous defense of religious freedom and freedom of conscience for all faiths (I don’t want Christianity protected just because it’s currently mainstream). A skepticism toward violence and instruments of violence (because we have a Second Amendment and wars can be just, but violence and instruments of violence are symptoms of the fall and end human lives and aren’t something to celebrate).

There’s room for disagreement here; I’m sure that some Christians would express some of these values differently or may add or remove some. But hopefully this is at least broadly recognizable as a list of Christian political positions. Of these positions, protecting 1.2 million innocent lives a year should surely go at or near the top of the list. The problem is that this list doesn’t line up with the Republican or Democratic parties; each party does some things well and others less well.

To be more direct - the Republican party isn’t just the evangelical Christian party. (If it was, it would look more like O’Callahan’s ideal.) It’s a coalition of evangelical Christians, other social conservatives, big business types, libertarians, whites who are still irritated about the civil rights movement, and Buchanan- and Bannon-style nationalists. (And, of course, there’s some overlap between these groups, and plenty of folks can fall into more than one group.) Most of these groups aren’t automatically bad, but they can have views and positions that go against the spirit of Christ - turning into social conservative moralism and big-business mammon and libertarian self-centeredness and white-grievance-fueled racism and arrogant ethnocentrism. And some of those views and positions show up in the Republican party. And so I’m left feeling like, if I’m going to vote to protect 1.2 million innocent lives a year, I have to accept all of the rest that comes along with it. In fact, I sometimes even feel like my vote is held hostage - as long as the Republican party is pro-life, it can do whatever it wants for anyone else in the coalition, secure in the knowledge that evangelical Christians will never abandon it.

I don’t like feeling that way. But, to protect 1.2 million innocent lives a year, I can suck it up and deal with it. Right?

And yet…

• The number of abortions has steadily declined for the last forty years. In 2017 (the most recent year I could find statistics for), the pro-choice Guttmacher Institute estimates that there were 862,000 abortions.
• Pro-life and pro-choice advocates both act like overturning Roe v. Wade is the end game. In reality, though, that just returns the question to individual states. A 2019 study in the Contraception journal suggests that overturning Roe v. Wade would result in a net decline of 13%.
• It’s not clear that overturning Roe v. Wade is even possible. It was decided in 1973, when six of the nine Supreme Court justices were Republican nominees. Each election, it seems, we’re told that this time the next Republican president will be able to appoint enough justices to make a difference. Since 1973, though, Republican presidents have appointed twelve justices to Democratic presidents’ four. It seems that the Court is extremely reluctant to overturn precedent, regardless of what presidential candidates might imply and what evangelical voters might wish.
• The pro-life movement has made steady progress in chipping away at abortions in the state and local levels without overturning Roe v. Wade. Over the past decade, hundreds of new abortion restrictions have passed, and dozens of abortion clinics have closed (1, 2).
• One risk with this incremental progress is that the Supreme Court could issue rulings striking down some or all of these restrictions. Now that conservatives have a 6-3 majority in the Supreme Court, that seems unlikely.
• Our goal isn’t to outlaw abortion; it’s to end abortion. This requires a moral and spiritual effort to convince people of the value of life. Here, too, we’re apparently doing pretty well; public opinion seems fairly stable for decades, despite a significantly more liberal culture in other respects. On the other hand, the fact that public opinion isn’t significantly improving shows we have a long way to go - and the kind of compromises we may make to win on the political and legal front may hurt our efforts on the moral and spiritual front.
• There’s plenty of evidence that declining abortion rates correlate with economic aid and contraceptive access. So ending abortion ought to be part of a broader discussion of how to help the poor and how to provide health care and contraceptive access. Current Democrats may do better than Republicans here.

So we went from “we have to vote pro-life nationally to save 1.2 million lives a year” to “there’s an outside chance that voting pro-life nationally could save 112,060 lives a year” (13% of the current declining rates) to “we’re continuing to make pro-life progress regardless of what happens nationally (and maybe the ‘pro-choice’ Democrats have some helpful ideas, too).” And saving 112,060 lives a year is huge, and I don’t want to downplay or become numb to the horror of abortion, but I’m also increasingly weary of feeling like I have to compromise numerous other values and positions for the sake of a cause that we’re making real headway on regardless.

Because, after all, ending abortion is only part of upholding life. To pick just one example: according to Wikipedia, African Americans’ average life expectancy is 3.6 years shorter than white Americans. How do I weigh 862,000 unborn lives lost to abortion against 45 million African American lives shortened due to racial and economic inequalities? I don’t know. Shouldn’t we be talking about lives lost to racism and poverty as passionately as we talk about lives lost to abortion? Probably. There aren’t easy answers, but I at least no longer think that it’s automatically correct to vote for the party that says they’re “pro-life.”

For a Christian, being pro-life should go deeper still: no matter how good we do at preserving life in the face of abortion and poverty and violence and COVID, everyone dies. In Luke 13:1-5:

Now there were some present on that occasion who told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mixed with their sacrifices. He answered them, “Do you think these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans because they suffered these things? No, I tell you! But unless you repent, you will all perish as well! Or those eighteen who were killed when the tower in Siloam fell on them, do you think they were worse offenders than all the others who live in Jerusalem? No, I tell you! But unless you repent you will all perish as well!”

Jesus’ listeners wanted to tie each of those deaths to human action and consequences (in that case, the idea that bad events were the direct result of God’s judgment on sin). Jesus challenged them to reorient their perspective: people die regardless, and what’s more important is getting right with God, lest we die eternally. As it relates to politics - being truly pro-life has to mean that we support candidates and policies that make it easier to follow Christ, who alone can offer permanent life, rather than tempting or corrupting people into sin, and that we avoid compromising our beliefs and our witness for the sake of anti-abortion laws. John Piper makes this point brilliantly in “Policies, Persons, and Paths to Ruin”; I’m not sure how much I can add to what he wrote.

Because there’s another, deeper risk to evangelicals’ blanket support for Republicans as the “pro-life” party- not only does it weaken our impact within the party (by limiting our ability to advocate for broader Christian views, because the coalition knows it has our vote regardless), but by so closely identifying with a secular party, we risk getting sucked into secular partisanship, and we risk mistaking Republican party positions for Christian positions, and we risk becoming viewed by the outside world as just another political interest group. These are tragic, potentially eternal consequences, and I believe they’ve happened and continue to happen.

Please don’t misunderstand me. I still passionately believe that abortion is wrong. I know that there’s still a strong case for supporting anti-abortion policies and candidates. I just can’t let it solely decide my vote anymore.

Further resources:

• “What About Abortion? Should this one issue determine how Christians vote?” - a video from Phil Vischer (of “Veggie Tales” fame) and Skye Jethani, and the source for some of the information here
• “Electing Republicans has not reversed Roe v. Wade. It’s time to change our strategy.” - a Catholic writer makes a similar argument
• “Four reasons a Democratic administration would mean more abortions” - another Catholic writer presents the counterargument