Baptism By Fire

This past Sunday, while in worship, Psalm 139 was read aloud and the woman preaching asked for people to share reflections. I am not very familiar with the Psalms, so their words do not come to mind readily. However, when I read through the 139th, I was deeply moved by the verses. They are beautiful words in their own right, but they hold particular significance for me because of an intense experience I had this summer past.

During my last shift of being on-call at the UCLA Ronald Reagan Medical Center, I received a page from a social worker. A patient was undergoing an operation to evacuate her fetus. And the patient and her family wanted the child to be baptized after the procedure was completed. I could have passed the task off to one of the Catholic priests who were present for Mass that day, but I decided that there was no need to do so. I was just as capable as they to perform this ritual and since I was the on-call chaplain, it was my job. It was an awkward service to arrange. None of the staff had ever had this done before. This was my first baptism ever, let alone in a hospital, so I certainly had no protocol suggestions. Finally we figured everything out, I got the child’s name from the mother in the recovery room and then entered the staff-only area to perform the baptism. The family would not be present. Although I made room for the staff to join me, they opted to not be present either. Understandable. A nurse placed the child on an instrument table in an operating room. She asked if I needed anything else and I requested some water for the baptism, which she quickly retrieved. Due to the type of abortion performed, there was no discernible human form. I never opened the translucent container. The nurse took her leave, and closed the door behind her.

I was very anxious up to this point. I felt that I could perform the ritual, but my anxiety was nearly tangible. I had to start by praying that the Holy Spirit fill me with peace and courage. I prayed this most earnestly for a time. I cannot describe to you how each moment seemed to stretch to infinity, yet melted away instantaneously. Indeed, even now I am tearing up as the stretches of time between now and then vanish. After feeling sufficiently emboldened, I finally truly beheld the child before me. My entire being became focused and I felt a terrible loneliness well-up inside me. It was not I who felt lonely; but inexplicably I felt the child of God before me was. I broke down and wept. After a time I collected myself and reached for the sterilized water that stood silently by, though more water seemed redundant at this point:

“Angel, I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”

At this moment, despite my rational eyes telling me that there is nothing human before me, I experienced the most profound humanity. It was a tragic beauty that the very core of my being recognized. In response to being so grievously touched, from the deepest parts of everything I am, manifested words that I cannot claim as my own because I did not think of them nor realize what I said until after the fact:

“You will never be forgotten, Angel.”

I was transported to the most authentic parts of myself, while also transcending every aspect of myself. I felt that I was absolutely nothing and yet positively everything. Time telescoped and took me back years to when I was on the brink of self-destruction because of how far into the utter abyss that is Doubt I had fallen. At that time, I was being swallowed up by the Infinite and felt there was no way out. As I hurtled deeper into that darkness and was dashed upon the conclusion that there was nothing left, I felt a voice assure me:

“David, you are not alone.”

And my life was saved. I was brought back from that precipice only by an ontological, experiential truth that I cannot deny, but also cannot adequately explain. And as I stood before Angel, that irrefutable Presence that kept me alive years ago was palpably present once more. I addressed that Presence, that Being, when I commended Angel’s spirit unto God for safekeeping. And though my tears before were due to the tragedy of our fallen existence as frail creatures, the tears I shed now were due to the beauty of our redeemed existence as beloved children. I did not feel any judgment. I did not feel any redemption of the tragedy to which I was bearing witness. There is no redemption or silver lining to be found. The loss of human life is terribly absurd. It is the work of the living to remember and honor that loss. And Angel, I assure you I will never forget.

For it was you who formed my inward parts;

you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.

Wonderful are your works; that I know very well.

My frame was not hidden from you,

when I was being made in secret,

intricately woven in the depths of the earth.

Your eyes beheld my unformed substance.

In your book were written

all the days that were formed for me,

when none of them as yet existed.

How weighty to me are your thoughts, O God!

How vast is the sum of them!

I try to count them—they are more than the sand;

I come to the end—I am still with you.

Psalm 139: 13-28

Polarization of Abortion

I wrote a blog around a year ago when there was an on-campus group that had displays around campus that showed huge, graphic images of aborted fetuses. A friend of mine was the one that organized it, though he graduated last year, so I am unsure at this point whether he had any part to play, but again today could UCSB students find the displays once again standing tall, demanding one’s attention. Thankfully, this year, they did away with the “Warning: Images of Genocide Ahead” in favor of the more accurate “Warning: Graphic Images Ahead.” Regardless, the campus was, as it was last year, abuzz with comments or discussions regarding the presentation.

Usually the conversations, or brief comments, were microcosms of the larger “conversation” taking place on campus. Where the presentation was, pro-choice groups from different backgrounds congregated to make their voice known. Whether the conversation was between a pro-life activist and a pro-choice activist or simply student-to-student, they generally followed the same pattern: support each other’s views in contrast to the Other.

When I wrote about these presentations last year, I spoke of seeking to create a new category in the abortion debate called Pro-Respect. A group of different-minded people who recognize the common ground between the two opposing groups, where education and compassion are central instead of legislation and pure passion.

Now I want to focus on a specific component of this Pro-Respect approach. And that is the detrimental nature of polarizing propaganda. I say this not to indict the 20 ft. tall images alone, but to call out those who would stand a mere 20 feet away and offer the diametrically opposed view. I was given a button that I put on my backpack that reads “Men For Choice,” which I wore proudly. But, I was saddened all day that I was unable to return to see if I could get a “Men For Life” button, should one exist, to put on my backpack as well. I would very much like to have both because that is how I view the situation. It is not an either/or. It is a Yes And…

The emotionally evocative approach taken by the Pro-Lifers, which demands a dramatic, energized response from the opposition, merely perpetuates the polarization of the entire debate. As evidenced by the conversations around campus, there were not conversations of reconciliation and understanding. They were conversations of bolstering of opinion, of shoring up arguments, of reassurance of belief, of strengthening of mutual opposition. As I stood under these huge images, I understood their goal and their purpose. I fully respect the movement’s basic premise, but it is their methodology that I disagree with. Because anyone who walked through the Arbor of UCSB today did not come away with a different viewpoint than when they walked in. They merely exited with sterner resolve to hold onto their views, whether they be Pro-Life or Pro-Choice.

Polarization does not lead to conversation. Polarization does lead to motivation, but it is a motivation towards isolation. As the presentations on campus today show, there is no draw towards common ground and mutuality when shock value is sought. We need approaches that have talk value. I submit that the effectiveness of either side of the aisle would benefit far more greatly in the long run should conversational propaganda be utilized over and against polarizational propaganda. I ask for you, regardless of your views on the matter, to not slide further to the left or the right. The further we slide apart from one another, the more it becomes nigh impossible to embrace as brothers and sisters. And then those who have yet to come into this world will be in an even worse situation. And it is our future generations that we must work for. It is for our current generations that we must work with. And it is our past generations we must work through.

Pro-Choice? Pro-Life? Nope. Pro-Respect

A good friend of mine, I just learned, was the mastermind behind a massive Pro-Life presentation on campus. When I say massive, I mean, parts of the presentation were 20 ft. high pictures of aborted fetuses. Quite understandably, especially with UCSB being a liberal campus, there were heated, emotional debates taking place at the two locations where these displays stood. When I heard about my friend being the one in charge of bringing this traveling campaign, I wanted to ask him about it. Surprisingly enough, God gave me the perfect chance to talk to him about it by giving us time to have lunch together the day after I learned of his involvement.

My friend, being an unassuming and not-at-all-hostile person, intrigued me by taking this sort of approach in advocating his viewpoint (he described himself as “vehemently pro-life”). I asked him about it and listened. I asked him about various pro-choice concepts, which he replied to fully and without hostility or contempt. Essentially, we had a very civil discussion regarding a very provocative subject that was most provocatively presented previously.

As I left that lunch, I knew God had wanted to me learn of this because it was time for me to re-visit my views on the entire matter of abortion. I was raised with an implicit understanding that the right to choose for the mother supercedes the right to birth for the fetus. So I have always had the leanings towards the “pro-choice” side of the debate.

However, that leaning comes heavily qualified. I always have and always will be uncomfortable being put into the pro-choice camp because I am pro-life. The two opposing sides have been relegated to the extreme poles: you either are for abortions or you are against them. Certainly many, if not most, people will take the time, if pressed, to explain that their views do not lie at the extreme ends. That, in fact, they have some sort of understanding of being in the middle, just towards one end or the other. The ubiquitous problematizations of rape, incest or endangerment of the mother’s life are always brought up, by advocates on both sides, as reasons for questioning absolutism.

But I find myself demanding a wholly different position be recognized. A separate yet integrated category, label, stereotype, etc. be promulgated to represent a much healthier and mutually beneficial stance on the issue of abortion (and can be applied to many polarized debates). That position is one of being Pro-Respect.

The Pro-Choice agenda is to protect Roe v. Wade against repeal because it represents a landmark in women’s rights. Every other facet to the Pro-Choice side, in my mind, can be reduced down to this fundamental aim. The Pro-Life goal, similarly, is to repeal said decision because that will return the right to life to the unborn. There are certainly Biblical, philosophical and personal issues surrounding, convoluting and complicating these foundational issues, but that Supreme Court Case was and is the catalyst. It gave legal stance to a position that theretofore was considered immoral and illegal.

Now, 34 years after the decision, we are still embroiled in a society that can’t determine what entity has the primary right: the mother or the child/fetus/unborn/embryo/etc. Contraception has entered the debate on similar grounds that it prevents life where humans have no right preventing it (so the viewpoint goes). Again, each side making mad grabs for legislative restrictions on the other side, because in today’s world, change, apparently, is truly affected via the courts and politicians.

However, as I said before, it is high time for a new voice. I am not in any way bringing up a new idea. This is not some fresh insight. It is my personal convictions that I am deriving from a wealth of examples: Jesus, Martin Luther King Jr. Gandhi, etc. This war is creating no victors, but merely casualties. And thus, I feel it is truly time to gear up the beautiful thing Aretha Franklin spelled out for us: RESPECT.

Retroactively condemning a woman’s choice to have an abortion will do nothing to create sympathy or support (except from those whom already give it). Proactively promoting blatant disregard for possible lives does nothing to foster a love and care for potential. I don’t feel either pole is on target. I find it interesting that the Greek word for “compassion.” splagchnidzomai (the actual Greek won’t show up here), means that the feeling comes from the bowels. From the very place this debate arises comes, according to the Greeks, the very reaction we should be having. Should a woman’s decision be to have an abortion, the failing is no on the woman’s part for moral ineptitude. The failing is not on our legal system for perpetuating murder. In fact, if there is a failing, it is to be found in our treatment of those individuals, men and women, born and unborn, who are affected by it.

Instead of pointing to the end-result as a question of moral acceptability, spiritual permissibility, or religious tolerance, we should instead point towards the beginning, from where the debate arises. The true goal should be that every child conceived should be a child wanted and a child prepared for. Failings in society to provide equality in economics, education and innumerable other necessities are where the responsibility lay. The key to realizing that dream is respecting one another as we mutually seek the same goal: healthy and vibrant families.

I completely and totally respect my friend for his viewpoints (even if his method of advocacy was extreme for myself and many others). He has a truly admirable understanding of value for the human life. I completely and totally respect the “opposing” viewpoint insofar as it seeks to give women the long-overdue control over their own bodies and to be sure every child is a wanted child. However, these goals are one in the same and most definitely not mutually exclusive. By respecting the lives of those present and those to come, we can together forge a community in which there is no need for abortions. However, as hatred and violence and malcontent continue to overshadow humility, compassion and respect, we will never fully realize the potential love we can co-create.

I invite you to join me in the Pro-Respect camp. Everyone is welcome. The only requisite is the pursuit of common fellowship through understanding, respect and trust. To ignobly discard human potential is to destroy any hope for a better future. Let us not waste energies on tearing each other down. We have the potential to bring about great change. Let us work not towards more legislation, but true realization.

A Sermon I Never Heard

Check out this article that I was linked to by a very humble yet inspiring woman

 

http://www.nytimes.com/2006/05/07/magazine/07contraception.html?ei=5090&en=

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The entire debate around abortion (which has now moved into birth control as well) seems to be rather silly, and yet incredibly serious. It’s a matter of life and death for some, literally. For others, it’s a matter of living life. But it seems to me that everyone’s focusing on blowing each other’s boats out of the water. Attacking the vessels and vehicles of each person’s verisimilitude is fine and dandy if therein lies the issue. However, it seems that the real deal lies beneath the ships everyone’s firing at (relation-ships, companion-ship, friend-ships, etc.). The water itself is so fraught with anger and discord that no one can navigate the swelling fury without a great degree of difficulty. But from whence does this nautical rage come? Well, imagine how tumultuous the waters are between great naval warships. The Spanish Armada most likely did not leave small ripples in its wake. Now magnify those wooden ships into corporate entities, government agencies and educational bodies. However, it even extends beyond our nation’s borders. This debate rages throughout all 7 oceans and every body of water known to us. The political left and right broadside each other, cannons blazing in an effort to reduce the other side to subservient, agreeable chaps. Some go boldly forth under the banner of expertise in a field, others brandish the Bible, others parry all in their path with their own, personal philosophy. So much to prove. So much to combat. So much to win. Even more to lose. Every inch is fought for, from the streets to the classrooms to the homesteads to the courts. No stone left unturned, no ground left unscorched.

 

This is where we find ourselves. Lost in a sea of World War III. Many speculate when WWIII will hit. I speculate when it will end. Secularism vs. faith vs. other faith vs. own faith. Battles are being fought all on fronts. Convictions are converted to conflicts. Beliefs beget bemoaning. The truth is needed. The truth is sought. The truth is thought to lie somewhere on the surface of the waters, amidst these ships of war (relationships, companionships, friendships?). I often wonder if the truth lies deeper than that.

 

What if abortion, birth control, abstinence-only, STIs and unwanted pregnancies are not the issue? What if these social and health issues are merely manifestations of the underlying issue, the deeper issue that is actually causing the treacherous waters we now tread? I’m sure many of us know that tsunamis are caused by earthquakes that occur beneath the ocean’s surface. It’s no surprise to me that our world is torn to pieces on the surface and yet the cause lies beneath that which we are struggling to deal with.

 

It is at this point that most readers would expect me to divulge what I feel it is that is lying beneath creating such turmoil. However, I must delay that to being up a previous issue I was having that I feel is intertwined with the very same issue.

 

Religion. I am still struggling to understand it. I am studying it in school and will most likely for the rest of my life. I feel that God has called me to learn what I can about Him, and for me, that is through Christianity. However, I recently came upon a crisis that involved a distrusting of my religion, my faith and my God. I have given the whole situation much thought and realized that much of what I’m dealing with comes from the same unrest and trouble that the social issue of sexuality is undergoing.

 

My faith is built firmly upon personal convictions I hold. And one of those, that seems to permeate throughout all walks of my life, is a love of and desire to understand people. Thus, my faith is very humanistic and quite entrenched in this place we called Earth. I believe this is also why I find Christianity so wonderful for my expressions of faith because God became human and experienced everything that I ever have and ever will (and everything that anyone has). Because of this, when the issue of the world’s monotheistic religions diametrically opposing each other (meanwhile, due to mutual exclusivity, perpetually damning one another) rested upon me in all of its Atlas-like glory, I crumpled. I could not bear the immense weight of thousands of years of hatred and violence and opposition upon my 145 lbs. frame. Thankfully, after attempting to do so failed miserably, I turned to God who bore the massive human construct (which ironically is based upon Him) for me while I came to grips with it, with Him and with myself.

 

As I sat upon Hesuchia Petra (“Calm Rock”), I thought upon all of this. I thought about Christ dying and what that meant. I thought about people of differing faiths grasping for this thing called “The Absolute Truth” while ignoring the present truth of discord and disharmony. Those disconcerting words led me to the realization that these struggles, these issues, these painful battles are found overlaying the ultimate disaster of the human condition:

 

Disconnection.

 

Disjunction.

 

Disassociation.

 

For me, Christ came to Earth so that God would not be disconnected, disjointed or disassociated. His entire ministry was one of connecting with people whom others OF HIS OWN FAITH would not touch (lepers, prostitutes, etc. were literally considered to be “untouchables”). In this world we live in now, it seems that we still have the “untouchables” and everyone is struggling to define who or what that is. Is it Plan B? Is it a Muslim? Is it a Catholic? Is it an atheist? Is it me? Because whoever is wrong is untouchable, and everyone needs to know who is wrong and who is right and then we can know who to touch because that will keep me safe with us and away from them. Religion is the manmade entity that creates those rights and those wrongs. Those things or people that are sacred and the things or people that are profane. Jesus shattered those boundaries on so many levels, and yet the religion that was founded upon His teachings seems to fall prey to the very plagues that Jesus came to heal.

 

Jesus did not avoid friend or foe. And while scholars and believers debate Jesus’ words, which seem to be much more hotly contested and proclaimed, his actions have always spoken louder than words. He did not come for the healthy, but for the sick. He did not come to abolish, He came to fulfill. He did not come to condemn, but to save. He came to connect God to humanity and humanity to each other. And right when He died, we went and screwed up the part that was fully in our hands. When Jesus was crucified, He did not have His arms crossed in defiance or up in a gesture of defense. He was killed with His arms wide, stretching out to all corners of the world in an eternal attempt to gather the sheep together. He wasn’t pushing anyone away, He wasn’t holding anyone back, He was accepting everyone for who they are so that they could discover, through God’s infinite and eternal love, what they could be.

 

And now we jump to present day and the battle rages on. Times have changed. Christ preached with compassion and love from boats. In fact, Christ calmed a storm that his disciples thought would surely be then end for them all. Our battle cruisers carve swaths of death, destruction and defiance across the waterscape. And here we are, in storms that none can really see an end to, none can really navigate through, none can reach out in. Christ wanted to open arms and hearts and minds. Today we are up in arms, closed in hearts and narrow in minds. Christ reached out to everyone. We reach out to those who agree with us. Christ loved those who disagreed with Him and tells us to do the same. We distrust and dislike those who disagree and tell others to do the same. We disconnect ourselves from one another and the distance the develops can be seen geographically, religiously, legally and in a plethora of other ways, shapes and forms. But the most crucial form this distance needs be bridged in is relationally.

 

The ships that are being neglected in the harbors are the relationships, companionships and friendships.

 

Reach out and touch someone. Jesus did.