This whole grace-thing makes it feel too easy, as if these “bad people” can walk into church and catch up to the good people. Let’s make it hard for them, am-I-right? Because there ought to be something we can do for grace. Never mind that it’s called grace.
— from this post
Love became flesh.
Love showed us the way.
Love was betrayed.
Love was killed.
Love was resurrected.
What amazing love. Jesus.
— Eugene Cho
May I ask your views on abortion?
I can safely tell you one thing: no one in the history of anywhere ever has thought, When I grow up, I would really really like to have an abortion.
This isn’t some childhood dream, and no matter where we stand on this issue, no one celebrates abortion or has abortion parties or gives abortion-bouquets. It’s a painful decision that many real living breathing human beings run up against or have endured.
I don’t mean to be glib here, but we’ve turned a very sensitive personal issue into a splashy sensational front-page political position, and you know: it’s not our freaking job to convince anyone of anything, ever. I seriously mean never. We can only present ourselves in a manner worthy of being heard and hope for the best. Forcing by coercion dehumanizes.
If my female friend were considering an abortion, I would do everything in my power to suggest a reconsideration of that option: but if she ultimately decides to get one, I’m not going to lose respect for her. I will not love her less, I will not shame her, I will not treat her differently. I will be there for her.
If my friend does heroin, eats glass, injects alcohol, kicks animals, and plays with grenades, I will do everything in my power to suggest something else (or possibly call the police): but I’m not going to pick up a sign, stand outside a rehab clinic, and picket a bunch of people who are already suffering through situations that I can barely understand. That’s called “subtle as a sledgehammer.” It’s to diminish and minimize our humanity.
Continue reading “Question: So About Abortion — I Am Pro-People”
Jesus – the Jesus we might discover if we really looked! – is larger, more disturbing, more urgent than we – than the church! – had ever imagined. We have successfully managed to hide behind other questions (admittedly important ones) and to avoid the huge, world-shaking challenge of Jesus’ central claim and achievement. It is we, the churches, who have become the real reductionists. We have reduced the kingdom of God to private piety, the victory of the cross to comfort for the conscience, and Easter itself to a happy, escapist ending after a sad, dark tale. Piety, conscience, and ultimate happiness are important, but not nearly as important as Jesus himself.
— N.T. Wright