Recently the Obama administration "stumbled" publicly. Or perhaps better put, it released a trial balloon to see what public reaction would be to its decision; or, it postured in order to convince its partisans that it was pursuing their interests. Whatever the interpretation put on the administration's actions, the core issue was whether or not religiously-based institutions would be required to provide insurance for birth control services. The administration backed away, and yet the furor added fuel to the current political conflagration.
 
    I can say that the consistent Christian position for 2000 years has been one of vigorous advocacy for life. In the historic Roman Catholic tradition, the fetus gains a soul at the moment of quickening, when the fetus moves in the womb. Yet from conception onward, faith insists on the fulfillment of life's potential. Only in extreme situations, perhaps when the mother's life is at risk or the birth would mean cruel suffering for the child, does the decision for an abortion become an ethical possibility. The God who declares all creation good views our own creative power, our ability to give life, as good too. 

    I have sat with parents who wept because their child's organs had grown out of his body, and his birth would mean horrendous suffering. They agonized over their doctor's advice to prevent suffering by having an abortion. I prayed with them as they wept, and at the conclusion I assured them of God's forgiveness for whatever decision they made. This was because their decision was made for the sake of the child and it was rooted in love and faith. This is the deepest commandment.

    I have also sat with a young 18 year old woman who wished to keep the child in her womb, but whose parents demanded that she abort the pregnancy for the sake of the future they envisioned for her. She did as they demanded, and the decision devastated her. I could not lend her the strength to resist her parents' coercion. No mother should face such pressure, even from those who allegedly have her best interests at heart.

    So the faith is pro-life. Yet what is ethical does not always equate with what should be legislated. I do not believe the law has a compelling interest in coming between a mother and the child in her womb. I do not have a solution: I have only the witness of broken hearts, and my own inability to fathom how government could make the agony of a horrid choice any better.
 

"I Will Always Love You," the hit song Dolly Parton wrote, is one that Whitney Houston sang to us in the movie The Bodyguard. She wished us so much good in exchange for losing her:

If I
Should stay
I would only be in your way
So I'll go
But I know
I'll think of you every step of
the way

And I...
Will always
Love you, oohh
Will always
Love you
You
My darling you
Mmm-mm

Bittersweet
Memories
That is all I'm taking with me
So good-bye
Please don't cry
We both know I'm not what you
You need

And I...
Will always love you
I...
Will always love you
You, ooh

I hope
life treats you kind
And I hope
you have all you've dreamed of
And I wish you joy
and happiness
But above all this
I wish you love

And I...
Will always love you
I...
Will always love you

 

I wonder if you have ever loved something or someone so much that you have found it necessary to walk away, to let it or them go. I have: a congregation, on two occasions. Through my leadership, God had given them wonderful futures. Yet in the end, they broke my heart and undermined my health; and I had nothing left to give. I was only in the way. "Don't think twice," Bob Dylan said: "It's all right."

So I wonder if that is why Whitney Houston died. Oh yes, it will take weeks for the autopsy results to come back, and perhaps some toxicological cause will be identified. But it seems to me that we know the answer: She died of a broken heart. So she went; she said goodbye; and she wished for us something far better. 

While watching CNN bid farewell to Whitney Houston, a stream of words passed on the bottom of the screen. They shared the death toll in Syria. These martyrs too died with a wish in their hearts, this one for their country: for joy, for happiness, and above all, for love. Greater love has no one than this, Jesus said, that he gives up his life for the ones he loves. If you haven't tried it, you should. It will give you better insight into Whitney Houston.  
 

 

Puzzlement is a good thing. It brings us up short, and forces reflection.

The Giants had the ball, close to the goal line, 2 points down, 56 seconds left on the clock. The fullback gets the ball, charges toward the end zone: Then things get kind of weird. The Patriots separate, like the Red Sea. Then the fullback stops short of the end zone, and seems to wait to be tackled, only to fall into the end zone accidentally. What was that all about?

Strategy, of course. If the Giants had stopped short of the goal and taken a fair share of downs prior to scoring either a touchdown or a field goal, they would have taken the lead with little time on the clock left for Tom Brady to lead the Patriots to a score. The Patriots felt their best option would be to let the Giants score quickly, then seize the maximum number of remaining seconds to give the Patriots the best scoring opportunity possible: and the win.

It was a strange moment, when strength became weakness, and weakness became strength. The Giants' fullback powerfully charged the end zone and scored, but only accidentally, falling into like a playful child. The Patriots played defense, and then collapsed in a final bid to win, looking more like a middle-school team then consummate professionals. Both teams tried to be as weak as possible, and to make their weakness their strength.

Have we ever considered that our strengths might be our weaknesses, and our weaknesses strengths? The Sufi mystics' Enneagram is built on this premise. Each one of us has a major strength, and the Enneagram helps us identify it. Yet then the Enneagram warns us that this very strength, when we overplay or have too much confidence in it, becomes our fatal weakness. We overplay our strength because we are mistakenly hiding something else, something deeper that might also serve us well. To give you an example, I enjoy a good laugh, and can see the humor in situations. Yet this trait can hide a fear of pain. If I can access the pain, transcend the fear and truly feel the hurt, the pain too can be a source of wisdom for me. It can teach me compassion, for example. This is what the Enneagram teaches: to not only rely on our strengths, but to find a good in the weaknesses that we hide, even from ourselves.

What are your strengths? And what good are you denying that your strengths are hiding? God can use a Sufi tool to help you know the truth.