Smashmouth Rising

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Introduction

Last week I participated in a debate over abolitionism and abortion with T. Russell Hunter, sponsored by Bibledingers. I thought the exchange was fruitful, courteous, and well worth considering. In case you missed it, that exchange is embedded below. I thank Bibledingers for hosting it, and I thank Russell for the charitable nature of the exchange.

What I would like to do here in this space, weather permitting, is assemble a rag-tag collection of observations about the debate (and the topic) after the fact. These observations will be about things said in the debate itself, as well as the underlying conditions that obviously create the debate. Emphasize that word rag-tag. The points I want to make here might hop about a bit.

Please note at the front end that my concerns about the radical wing of the abolitionist movement are concerns that would apply to the people it applies to. I am not attributing any of that to Russell.

Challenging Rhetoric

One of the things that I said in the debate that seemed to have traction in the comments afterwards was the fact that I did not believe that Russell’s forceful disagreement with my position was mean-spirited in any way. I thought he comported himself as a Christian gentleman throughout. This is an issue that really needs to be worked out, down to the ground, and giving way to sinful attitudes just gets in the way of that. It appeared to me that Christians of good faith on both sides appreciated that this debate unfolded the way it did. That was all to the good.

At the same time, I think there is a misunderstanding about the nature of my objection to the rhetoric of some abolitionists (again, not Russell). It appears to me that some people believe that that my rejection of the more strident abolitionists is because I believe they have been “mean” to me. But strong disagreement is not necessarily mean. That’s not the issue, not at all. My problem with the overdone rhetoric is not that it reflects poorly on me, or that it hurts my feelings, but rather that such rhetoric is simply false. If I want to outlaw all human abortion via one route, and someone else wants to do the same thing via another route, that does not make me a blood-soaked murderer.

The ideological logic of such stridency would require someone with such rigid views to say that a sidewalk counselor (not an abolitionist) who has been working for decades to save the lives of babies is also a blood-soaked murderer, which is just absurd. Just as pro-lifers with real integrity are willing to acknowledge that the pro-life establishment contains some temporizers who are ethically challenged, and that some are even grifters, so also it needs to go the other way. Abolitionists with real integrity need to make a similar acknowledgement. There are sinners everywhere. There are in fact unstable souls on the radical and revolutionary end of the abolition movement who are, as those in the Air Force might say, “all thrust and no vector.” Responsible abolitionists need to acknowledge that this is in fact a genuine problem. The task is to eradicate all human abortion. The task is not to fight with other people who also want to eradicate all human abortion. For pity’s sake.

On a subject as volatile as this one, simplistic binary thinking can lead straight to a radicalism that not one of us should want. Back in 1994, I (and our circle) had various clashes with Paul Hill, the man who shot the abortionist in Florida, and who was afterwards executed. His logic was linear and very simplistic. It was also intellectually and theologically lazy. We have been here before, and I don’t like it very much.

So much for the broader landscape.

Deuteronomy 16 in Context

Russell quoted Deuteronomy 16 in the debate:

Yes, and amen. This is the Word of God, as we should all remember. This is exactly what we should do under these circumstances. But are we in such circumstances? Are we in the position of Joshua, on the threshold of establishing an ideal theocratic republic in the promised land? Or are we Esther in Persia? Joseph in Egypt? Daniel in Babylon? Paul in Rome? The question answers itself.

We are currently living in a recently secularized, neo-pagan empire. We are not in the position of the Puritans landing on the coast of Massachusetts, contemplating what sorts of laws they should establish there. Of course Deuteronomy 16 needed to be their model. They had a blank slate, and Deuteronomy 16 needed to be written out on it in full.

But when Cyrus issued the decree that the Jews could rebuild the Temple in Jerusalem, we have to acknowledge that considered in isolation this decree was a wicked decree. And why? Because he was a pagan emperor who was hedging all of his bets. He built a number of other temples at the same time to other gods. But the Jews still took advantage of his compromising spirit, and went to Jerusalem anyway under the leadership of Ezra and Nehemiah. The Cyrus Cylinder reveals that Cyrus was interested restoring numerous cult sanctuaries and he allowed for the repatriation of various deported peoples—which would have naturally included the Jews. But it was not limited to the Jews, and was therefore a polytheistic decree. So why did Ezra and Nehemiah cooperate with it? Because they were not in Joshua’s position. Neither are we.

And Herod the Great was quite the builder. He was the wicked ruler who murdered a bunch of young boys in the area of Bethlehem in his attempt to kill Jesus. He was the one who built the glorious Temple complex in Jerusalem. He also built, while he was at it, three temples dedicated to Caesar Augustus—they were called Augusteums, and were fine examples of blasphemous idolatry. And what did Jesus do with this Temple built by this salt-encrusted enemy of God? Well, He was dedicated there (Luke 2:22-24). He worshiped with his family there (Luke 12:42). He cleansed it of its manifest corruptions (Matt. 21:12). He was consumed with a zeal for it (John 2:17). At His death, the curtain in the Holy of Holies there was torn from top to bottom (Matt. 27:51).

God is perfect, but not a perfectionist. And we are to be perfect as our heavenly Father is perfect (Matt. 5:48), which means that we should not be perfectionists either. So don’t be a partialist (Deut. 16:18-20). Don’t be a perfectionist either (2 Sam. 12:8).

So the issue is not that abolitionists are the principled biblical thinkers, while smashmouth incrementalists are simply pragmatists, trying to rely on our own wits to achieve a good result, with “good” defined by our own lights. No, we are both seeking to apply Scripture to the situation in which we find ourselves. But in order to do this, we need to read more than just Deuteronomy. We have to read and interpret the cultural moment we are in. How we read our surroundings will dictate which passages we believe should be imitated and applied, and how they must be applied. Cultural obedience is not a simple matter of inserting Tab A into Slot B.

Are we in the position of Joshua (and John Winthrop) with an empty slate before us, trying to decide what kind of legal system to establish, and whether or not to install men of integrity? Or are we like Daniel in Babylon, who was made chancellor of the University of Babylon (Dan. 2:48), an institution that had a pre-existing witchcraft department (Dan. 2:2)?

Or Else What?

So let us return to Deuteronomy 16. When Joshua was standing on the threshold of Canaan, preparing to invade, there were already residents there who were prepared to resist the kind of legal system that Joshua intended to establish. They had their own customs already, and their own customs included sacrificing children to Molech. Joshua was ordered to deal with them and their resistance by means of exterminating them. The model for dealing with the blood lust of the pagans at that time was not electoral politics. It was holy war.

And that warfare really was holy. The iniquity of the Amorites was full (Gen. 15:16), and it was time for them to go. There were many reasons why God ordered that genocide at that point in time, and those reasons were all holy, righteous, and good (Rom. 7:12).

But in the new covenant, our commander has ordered a shift in tactics. Not a shift in the goal, but a shift in the tactics. We have been ordered to move from a campaign of extermination to a campaign of infiltration. We are to be leaven in the loaf. Our weapons are no longer to be carnal weapons, but they remain powerful weapons for all that.

What is the difference? Well, if Joshua had received a summons to appear before some Amalekite judges, he would have answered by besieging their city, conquering it, and then executing the judges. Compare this to Paul’s demeanor when he appears before the pagan governor Felix.

But was Felix the kind of judge mandated by Deuteronomy 16? Not a bit of it. He was actually hoping for a bribe (Acts 24:26), and that is precisely the kind of thing that is forbidden in Deuteronomy 16. And yet, Paul was willing to work within that system. He was playing the long game of infiltration, and three centuries later the pagan system collapsed. Three centuries. Like I said, the long game.

In the new covenant, under the blessing of Christ, it is holiness that is now contagious. It is holiness that spreads. We should let it.

Phasing Out the Gladiators

Another good example can be taken from Rome, as the leaven of the kingdom worked through the loaf. The gladiatorial games were a brutal and bloodthirsty spectacle, and before they were banned altogether under Honorius in the fifth century, there were various restrictive measures placed on them, beginning with Constantine. And when they were finally banned in Rome by Honorius, they continued on in other parts of the empire for a time. Was Honorius showing partiality because he did what he could, when he could, and where he could? The end result is still one that we can all applaud. What mattered was the victory, was it not?

Constantine began the process by banning the use of criminals in the contests, which greatly reduced the pool of gladiators. That was a partial approach, certainly. But was it partiality?

And when Honorius banned the games in Rome, what was he doing and saying? Was he showing partiality, saying that life needed to be respected in Rome, but he didn’t care about life elsewhere? That in other places the blood lust was okay? Or was he rather starting where he could, and setting an example of what should be done?

In addition to this, when Paul first arrived in Rome, he didn’t pay any attention to the gladiatorial games at all. He did not have his followers start circulating petitions to “end the games now.” He had other fish to fry. He need to do what he could to establish and encourage the Christian church there, which, over time, would bring the great blessing of the final eradication of the games—among countless other blessings.

The games were finally ended in Rome because a monk, protesting the carnage, went down into the arena among the fighters, and was stoned by outraged spectators. This martyrdom gave the emperor the excuse he was looking for, and the games in Rome were halted. Was it partiality (or cowardice) that kept members of Paul’s entourage from protesting this same way centuries before? Not at all. Paul was reading the cultural moment accurately, and was doing exactly what needed to be done in his moment. And I say this recognizing that the courageous monk might well have been reading his moment correctly as well.

We were discussing this in our family last night, and various illustrations of revolutionary impatience were thrown out. All boxers should only throw knock-out punches—no jabs or feints. Every batter needs to hit a home run. No singles or doubles. We insist on skipping the Marshall Islands, and must go straight for Tokyo.

Clear Testimony

One of the concerns that abolitionists have is that “partial” legislation blurs and blunts the testimony of the church. The fear is that partial legislation, like a heartbeat bill, sends the message that “outside of these parameters, it is okay to kill the baby.” If it is never okay to kill the baby, and it isn’t, then isn’t it a problem to support legislation that could lead to such an inference?

Well, yes, that could be a problem if the only thing you were saying was found in inferences from the legislation you supported. But the principal voice of the church is supposed to be the pulpit, not the legislative chamber. The central problem with pro-life evangelical churches is not the legislation they support, but rather the silence of the pulpit. We are supposed to be a prophetic presence in our nation, and I do argue that we need to be much more of one. As a sampler of the kind of thing I am thinking about, here is something that I preached back in 2010. Is there any ambiguity here? Is there any spirit of “and outside of that, you can kill the baby?”

If the concern is testimony before a watching world—and that is a legit concern—I don’t think that prophetic language from the pulpit would be at all drowned out by a willingness to “run all the plays.” As I said in the debate, if I were a governor, and an abolition bill came to my desk, I would sign it. If a heartbeat bill came to my desk, I would sign that also. Now would my willingness to sign in this second hypothetical drown out any thundering denunciations of abortion from the pulpit? Of course not. And how could it drown out my willingness to sign in the first hypothetical?

So someone who would sign an abolition bill if he were governor is considered compromised because he would also sign a heart beat bill (in second hypothetical situation). This illustrates why an “all or nothing” mentality is destined to splinter into a hundred different factions, all of them more pure than the others.

Importance of this Debate

One of the things that came out a few times in the course of the debate is that our “smashmouth incrementalism” is kind of a deal in the world of abolitionism. I took this to mean that we and the abolitionists are speaking to the same people, and that there are folks out there who respect and honor leaders on both sides of the debate. We are influential with people that the abolitionists would love to recruit. That is why this debate was a good thing. This issue really needs to be worked out.

I have written a number of times on this, and I recognize that a lot more needs to be said. For the present I would simply say to all my abolitionist friends that there can be a fine line between a zeal for righteous obedience and revolutionary impatience. Paul Hill wanted to be the John Brown of the pro-life movement, wanting to incite a Civil War over the abortion issue. The problem with this is that John Brown was an ungodly revolutionary. That kind of impatience will usher in far more death than it will could accomplish on behalf of life.

No Political Solution

And let me conclude by emphasizing something I said in the debate, and at least part of what I would say here I believe Russell agrees with. There is no political solution to the mess we are in, which means we should not fault political measures for not being that solution. The best political measure in the world cannot solve this problem.

Apart from a massive reformation and revival, resulting in the repentance of the American people, the nation is not going to abandon abortion as its blood sacrament. And the only thing that is capable of bringing the people to this kind of repentance is the preaching of the holy law of God and the free offer of forgiveness and grace in the gospel. Proposed legislation of any kind won’t do it. Heartbeat bills won’t do it, and abolition bills won’t do it. Bills that successfully pass won’t do it, and bills that die in committee won’t do it.

Not through the law. America is not going to be turned around “through the law.” Abraham will not inherit America “through the law”—although he will inherit America. The transformation can only come through the righteousness of faith—and faith comes by hearing and hearing by the Word of God (Rom. 10:17).

If a heartbeat bill doesn’t save a baby because a mother is unrepentant, and she simply drives across the state line, the central problem is the lack of repentance. We should not blame the murder on those who sought to prevent it. And if an abolition bill doesn’t save a baby because it never makes it to the floor for a vote, the central problem still lies in the hardheartedness of the mother and the abortionist.

There are comparatively wise and foolish strategies, but the wisest law ever drafted still won’t fix the problem. The problem is the wicked attachment that Americans have to their right to sexual license detached from all moral responsibilities. Americans are enslaved to orgasms without consequences. And that is not ever going to be addressed by any law, regardless of how strict it might be.

The blood of our innocents will stop bleeding out when we, en masse, turn to the blood of the crucified one. And not until then.