This is a Guest Post by Zoe Ham. 

Defeating the Pro-Lifers?

I don’t know if you’ve seen it, but there’s a question that’s been going round social media which supposedly defeats the pro-life argument.

It’s been posed by writer Patrick S. Tomlinson in a Twitter thread last week. (By the way, it’s worth noting that this is all coming up because this Friday is 50 years since the passing of the 1967 Abortion Act.) Anyway, here’s the scenario Tomlinson sets:

You’re in a fertility clinic. Why isn’t important. The fire alarm goes off. You run for the exit. As you run down this hallway, you hear a child screaming from behind a door. You throw open the door and find a five-year-old child crying for help.

They’re in one corner of the room. In the other corner, you spot a frozen container labeled “1000 Viable Human Embryos.” The smoke is rising. You start to choke. You know you can grab one or the other, but not both before you succumb to smoke inhalation and die, saving no one.’

Do you A) save the child, or B) save the thousand embryos? There is no “C.” “C” means you all die.

So there you go.

Tomlinson’s point is that most pro-lifers apparently default to choosing the 5 year-old, which therefore proves we don’t really think embryos are real humans.

I definitely hesitated when I first read it; what would I choose?

Because I really, really, believe each of those embryos are humans. Not just potential humans, but real human babies; just very tiny ones.

Now, I’m not writing this to persuade you of that position, but I do want to explain why that scenario misses something crucial out.

The Craziness of Life or Death Thought Experiments

Of course, some of the hesitancy comes because it’s just a crazy situation to be faced with. A scenario in which you end up having to pick some lives over others is always going to be agonising.

For example, if it was a choice between saving a five-year old or saving 10 five-year olds, whilst we’d probably all end up acknowledging saving 10 lives is greater on paper than saving one life, it would still be uncomfortable. It would still feel like we’re condemning that one life to death.

And in that situation, most of us would never actually want to pick just one option. But, yes, in theory we can see how it would be better to save 10 lives compared to just one life.

But that doesn’t explain all of my hesitancy.

An Alternative Scenario: The Labour Ward

Let me put to you an alternative scenario, to see if I can explain:

You’re in a labour ward. (And à la Tomlinson, the why isn’t important!) Again, the fire alarm goes off. You run for the exit. But as you run down the hallway you hear a child screaming from behind a door. You throw open the door.

Here you see that in one corner (corner A) is a five year old boy. He’s screaming ‘Mummy, Daddy!’ at the top of his lungs, and you already know that his parents are outside and you can hear their cries. They love him, they want him; they’re desperate to save him and protect him and look after him.

In the other corner (corner B) are 100 newborn babies. (Bear with me: for the purposes of this theoretical scenario we need to imagine that these 100 newborns are somehow in one massive hospital crib on wheels – or they’re all connected in one long crib-train, i.e. it’s possible that you could move them all easily…)

But, here’s the catch, none of these babies are wanted.

By that I mean that their parents don’t love them and don’t want them. They’ve left them to die. And the government of the country where this fictional hospital exists has allowed abortion up until 7 days post birth, so given their parental abandonment, the government doesn’t want them around anymore now either. They won’t provide for them in any way; in fact, they don’t recognise them to be human. Society as a whole doesn’t want them and nobody (or hardly anybody) would bat an eyelid if these babies were killed in this fire.

And not just that, but all these newborn babies have also been born with a medical condition which means that in order to live they require life-support for 9 months. If they receive this life support there is every expectation that they will live healthy lives, but they desperately need intensive, sacrificial and costly care for 9 months.

And here’s the kicker: you know that personally you cannot provide this care for 100 babies: you don’t have the money or the where-with-all to provide what they each need for the next 9 months, and you don’t know how to go about getting help either.

So, that’s the deal. Now, who do you save? A or B?

Why *this* situation matters…

Personally, I think that’s a much more realistic scenario facing those of us who are pro-life.

The second scenario makes clear the ‘package-deal’ that those embryos from the first scenario come with. Saving the lives of those 100 embryos is far more complicated than just rescuing them from the burning building. Life in the UK in 2017 is stacked against them.

So whilst many of us who are pro-life will likely hesitate after the original scenario, that’s not because we’re not absolutely convinced that embryos are humans. Its because we… I… am overwhelmed and fearful and bewildered as to how I could ever care for a thousand tiny humans.

And yet, sadly, the original scenario is not entirely fictional. In this country and around the world there exists freezers full of tiny babies. Tiny babies that will probably never be given a chance at life but will be discarded in the rubbish.

I wish that situation didn’t exist. I wish we lived in a country where you were only allowed to create an embryo if you intended to give him or her all that he or she needed for life. I wish a scenario like the original one could never even have been fathomed because why on earth would a caring society ever have 1000 embryos just lying around?! But those wishes of mine haven’t come true yet.

So what am I going to do about it?

I don’t know! I’m scared and overwhelmed by that question! In the past I’ve had the briefest of forays into researching “embryo adoption” (technically embryo donation, since because the embryos aren’t counted as humans, adopting them isn’t counted as ‘adoption’). And yet that seems such a massive thing to do, whilst being just tiny in the grand scheme of things.

So Mr Tomlinson, I choose B. I just need to work out how in reality I’m going to back that up.

Lord Jesus, come back soon.

–

This was a Guest Post by Zoe Ham. 

It’s a joy to have Sarah Walton on the blog this week, reflecting on how we respond to the realities of suffering in our lives. Sarah (left) is the co-author of a brilliant new book, Hope When It Hurts, along with Kristen Wetherell (right). More details on HWIH below.

One way or another, suffering transforms us. Most often, pain will drive us in one of three directions: toward bitterness, or numbness, or a humble dependence upon Christ. Over the last several years, I have been walking through a wilderness experience which has seemed unending. From a young age, our eldest son began displaying behavior that was defiant and destructive, and has caused a decade of confusion and chaos in our home. Alongside that, I have been enduing an ongoing battle with chronic pain, eventually diagnosed as Lyme disease, which tests revealed I had passed on to all four of my children. Battling with these health problems and related financial strains has at its best challenged my family; at its worst it has nearly destroyed my family. I can clearly identify moments when I have responded in bitterness, and others where I have embraced numbness, as well as times when these trials have driven me to a greater love for Jesus. So as we suffer, our challenge is to recognize the moments of choice in how we will respond, and to choose by God’s grace to grow toward him, not away from him.

Option 1: Bitterness

The path toward bitterness often begins with genuine pain and heartache coming from a deep sense of loss, hurt, or confusion. As painful and perplexing circumstances keep coming, and we feel as though we’ve been kicked when we are already down, bitterness knocks on our door masked as justifiable anger over the unfairness of life. We frantically search for something or someone to blame. And since God is in control, he is an easy Someone to pin the blame on—to grow bitter towards as we stew inside, feeling as though we drew the short straw, or rather, that he gave us the short straw.

I remember crying aloud in anger after watching my eldest child cause emotional and physical destruction within our home, bringing me, my husband, and our other children to tears. I saw and felt the fear, anguish, and confusion rise up within each of us. This time, rather than falling to my knees in prayer and desperation, I angrily murmured, “This isn’t fair! What did I do to deserve this?! I don’t want to do this anymore—I want out!” I could feel bitterness taking root within my heart.

The troubling truth is that at the root of bitterness is unbelief and pride. Pride says, “I don’t deserve this.” Unbelief says, “I don’t believe God can be good if this is my lot.” And God says to us, often gently, sometimes firmly, I have given you a better life than this, a better life than you can imagine, and I’m leading you to it. And I want for you what you don’t deserve—eternal life.

We can be, and must be, honest with the Lord about our feelings of bitterness, but then we must go to the truth of who he is and what he has done for us. We can combat an embittered heart by bringing it before the holy, compassionate, and all-satisfying presence of God. As we do that, he takes us by the hand, guides us into truth, and reminds us of the glorious eternity that awaits us.

Friend, if you recognize bitterness growing within you, look to the cross of Jesus Christ. The circumstances that feel unfair, cruel, and pointless will begin to lose their power when we remember that our sinless Savior paid the penalty for our sin on the cross and bore all our griefs and sorrows. While bitterness says, “I don’t deserve this,” the gospel says, “You deserve far worse than this but have been forgiven, freed, and promised a glorious eternity with Christ.” 

Option 2: Numbness

Numbness presents itself as a more acceptable form of unbelief and rebellion than bitterness. Numbness temporarily blocks out and dulls the pain in order to avoid it at all costs. 

For me, this manifests itself through things like watching too much television, eating more (and unhealthier) food, taking naps rather than getting things done, praying and reading the Bible less, avoiding conversation, not seeking the help I need, or looking for any immediate gratification that would cover the pain for even a moment. But no matter how we try to numb our pain, the act can lead us into bondage and away from the blessings Christ desires to pour out on us through the very pain we are avoiding.

How do we combat numbness? We must first recognize it for what it is. If you are feeling knocked down in a season of suffering, evaluate how you spend your time. Do you find yourself drowning out the pain with something else? More television, over-sleeping, over-working, alcohol, pornography? At the same time, do you find yourself avoiding time in God’s word and prayer?

Here’s what to do:

Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need. 

(Hebrews 4 v 16)

We may fool ourselves and those around us, but Christ already knows the true state of our hearts and still wants us to draw near to him, confidently, even with all our messy, doubting, and faithless emotions.

So in times of brokenness, don’t let the temptation to run away—to numb it all out—win. Come to Jesus in prayer, bring your emotions before him, and ask him for the grace you need to press on through the trials.

Option 3: Depend on Christ

So how do we keep from succumbing to bitterness and numbness when we are struck down by sin and the painful circumstances that enter our lives? We must take all our emotion, pain, confusion, and questions to Jesus Christ, our High Priest, who knows us intimately and can sympathize as One who has endured far more than we ever could imagine. What does this look like?

• Pray. We cannot do any of this on our own. We need the strength of the Spirit to even see our tendency toward bitterness and numbness. We must begin with a simple prayer of dependency: “Hear, O Lord, when I cry aloud; be gracious to me and answer me!” (Psalm 27 v 7)
• Seek. Make time in the Bible a priority every day. Surround yourself with believers who will encourage you and speak truth into your life. If we do not put guardrails of truth around ourselves in suffering, we will easily be swayed toward either bitterness or numbness. But with the truth of God’s word, we will be strengthened, equipped, and transformed to reflect the image of Christ.
• Wait. Wait with anticipation. God does not waste a moment of our pain, and he will be faithful to provide what we need, give us strength to endure, and ultimately bring us forth as gold. You are a conqueror in Christ and must remind yourself of it constantly! We need not fear or despair, even when everything around us seems bleak and hopeless. We may be struck down, but we will not be destroyed (2 Corinthians 4 v 9).

Together with Kristen Wetherell, Sarah Walton is author of Hope When It Hurts: Biblical Reflections to Help You Grasp God’s Purpose in Your Suffering, which is available now here from The Good Book Company. You can watch a trailer below:

It’s a delight to have the wonderful Claudia Sear guest-post at That Happy Certainty, as she shares some of her reflections on being a new parent at church…

“The social times before and after a church service are a great chance for us to enjoy our church family and deepen our friendships. But, let’s be honest, for some of us and in some seasons, those times can be hard. Perhaps you’re an introvert, or hard of hearing or just desperately trying avoid eye-contact with the guy organising the sponsored swimathon*! Or maybe, like me, you’re a new parent, and suddenly these moments have become full of new challenges to navigate. So, here’s a few thoughts on how a church family can particularly love new parents at church:

1. Talk to us… not to the baby.

It’s amazing to know so many people love your little one! Your interest is so appreciated. But asking, “How are you?” whilst looking at a mother’s face means something quite different to “How is she?” whilst grinning at a baby. Maybe the baby is happy and healthy, but mum is not. Maybe new-dad just isn’t coping. Or maybe life is difficult for a whole host of reasons aside from the baby: maybe their friend has just died; maybe their parents are ill; maybe they have great news about a job. But it’s hard to share if the only topic is the little one. And this goes for sharing ‘the peace’ too – make sure you greet the parents not just baby!

2. Talk about yourself!

New parents are still interested in you!  They love their babies but they don’t actually believe them to be the centre of the universe. How are you doing? What are your troubles? Tell me how I can help you. How can I pray for you? It’s tricky for me to be a supportive and loving sister in Christ to you if we only ever talk about teething and sleep routines.

3. Talk about the sermon.

Let’s encourage one another by talking about what we’ve heard from God’s word. If a mum missed the whole sermon because she was next door getting covered in milk and poo, she would probably love you to tell her what she missed. And she probably won’t be that encouraged by being told how cute her baby was when they did that thing with that toy during the talk (by the way, being told this is especially discouraging if my husband is actually the one speaking!)… As a new parent, it’s very easy to feel like you are distracting everyone.

4. Give us encouragement, not pity.

I’m often asked, “Is she good?” This is a weird question, but I think mostly people mean, “does she sleep all night?”. She does not, on account of being a baby. But this then makes people look very concerned which in turn makes me wonder if my baby is broken. I wonder if this applies to parents whose toddlers are throwing tantrums in the toilet or whose teens are chatting at the back of church.

Pity makes parents wonder if something out of the ordinary is going on, as if perhaps no one else is struggling with this. But encouragement lets us know that you see us at work raising small people who are limited and sinful like the rest of us, and that you are praying for us in it. Children are a blessing (albeit one that involves a lot of poo and not much sleep). Don’t feel sorry for us, but do let us know you’re behind us.

5. Know that you are loved.

Lastly and very crucially, the meals you brought round, the prayers you offered and the clothes you passed down have made things a million times easier. Thank you. Being part of a church family is such a blessing! Please know that new parents love you for this – even when they’re so tired they forget your name.

—

So I hope these thoughts help you on Sunday as you try and talk to the woman who doesn’t know she has vomit in her hair, or the man who is still gently swaying even though it’s his wife who is holding the baby.

Of course, new parents are just one example of the type of person we meet with on a Sunday. We each have different sensitivities and needs, but we mustn’t be afraid of the mess of knowing each other and loving each other well. Jesus’ church is full of all kinds of people, from all kinds of places and at all ages and stages of life. It can make church hard, but it definitely makes us beautiful!

*By the way, going back to the swimathon, I once failed to avoid the ‘sign-upper’, and was signed up to swim, despite explaining that, being afraid of water, I didn’t even own a costume.” 

Claudia Sear graduated from Oak Hill Theological College in 2015. She now lives in Brighton and has two cats, two rabbits, one husband, one baby and one ring to rule them all.