Fisher Deliver Us From Abortion

Awakening the Church to End the Killing of America's Children
1. Auflage 2015
ISBN: 978-1-61254-248-5
Verlag: Brown Books Publishing Group
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 240 Seiten

Consider that for the past 40 years, a staggering 56 million Americans have been killed by abortion. It claims the lives of over 1.2 million children every year, or roughly one child every 25 seconds. So why isn't the American church doing something to stop this atrocity, which is the greatest holocaust in American history? The majority of American churches, God's institutions for spreading the gospel of peace and defending the weak and innocent, remain silent. Feeding the poor, stopping human trafficking, rescuing children from abuse, and protecting women from exploitation are all issues the church is addressing. Yet abortion remains eerily absent from the list of church priorities in America. Why is abortion not the church's highest priority? Is the American church silent because abortion has become politicized and church leaders are afraid to discuss it or because we simply don't know what the Bible says about it? What will cause the church to wake up, rise up and take this issue to task to save our children? In his latest book, Deliver Us From Abortion: Awakening the Church to End the Killing of America's Children, Brian Fisher, co-founder and President of Online for Life, breaks the veil of silence and uncovers the reality of abortion in the church, what the Bible really says about it, and how God has empowered His church to end this unspeakable tragedy.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Fisher, Brian

Leseproben

Introduction “If you are slack in the day of distress, your strength is limited. Deliver those who are being taken away to death, and those who are staggering to slaughter, Oh hold them back! If you say, ‘See, we did not know this,’ does He not consider it who weighs the hearts? And does He not know it who keeps your soul? And will He not render to man according to his work?” —Proverbs 24:10-12 On a cool, bright evening in October 1999, I sat in Magee-Women’s Hospital in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, holding my newborn son. The last few months of his journey to birth had been challenging. His mother, my wife, had been to the hospital six times in the previous few weeks for problems related to preeclampsia. Her blood pressure had to be taken several times a day, and whenever it spiked, another trip to Magee ensued. Those trips resulted in tests, tests, and more tests; concerned looks and furtive discussions among doctors and nurses; poking and prodding; and instructions for limited activity, bed rest, and fluids. Just a day before, the hospital had attempted to induce labor but failed. My wife struggled through ten hours of labor pains but, because of a miscommunication between doctors, her water wasn’t broken, and our little boy remained safely tucked away in her womb. The second attempt on October 28 was successful, but two successive labors had taken a toll on my wife, and she lay in bed exhausted. I wasn’t really a “kid person.” I was in my mid-twenties and hadn’t given a second thought to infants for the past two decades. I avoided nurseries (too much crying and strange smells), thought kids were messy, and quickly moved on when I passed a screaming toddler at the mall. I had never changed a diaper and never wanted to. I thought babysitting was for teenage girls and naptime was for Sunday afternoon post-lunch football games. So I sat there, holding this little baby, wondering what in the world I had gotten myself into. His mother smiled softly from her hospital bed. My son, Caleb, slept quietly in my arms. And me? I was terrified. Men often say that their child’s birth is the happiest day of their lives. Not me. What I had just witnessed was beyond my imagination and not particularly pleasant. When the moment for our special delivery came, every other baby in the hospital decided to come at the same time. Our delivery room was short a few key nurses, so I was recruited to “help” in ways a new father should never have to help. I had a firsthand, close-up, in-depth perspective of the delivery of a newborn child, and I could only marvel at the messy, bizarre process God designed to bring a life into the world. Surely He could have created a cleaner way to spring forth a new human being. I was mulling over these thoughts that evening in October after the chaos had subsided, replaying what I had just experienced. Because of the confusion, the delivery was a bit of a blur: nurses running in and out, doctors scrambling in preparation, equipment flying all over the room. Orderlies giving me orders—“Stand here,” “Hold this,” “Tell her that,” “Make sure you don’t do that,” “Do you want to see this?” (“No”). Nine months of pregnancy, multiple doctor visits, seven emergency trips to the hospital, two labors, hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of equipment, dozens of doctors and nurses, and two worn-out parents—just to bring a tiny baby into the world. Caleb was now here, sleeping softly in my arms, oblivious to the miracle of delivery that he had just endured. He has it easy, I recall thinking. He won’t remember what just happened. And then, just for a moment, I had another thought. We abort him. Those are the exact words that came to my mind. “We,” American men and women, abort “him,” little boys and girls. I was holding a tiny baby, my son, and though he was allowed to be born, I realized that there was no difference between him and the millions of other tiny babies that are aborted in their mothers’ wombs. This was the first time I had held an hours-old child, and for some reason, the reality of abortion hit home. I had never given abortion much thought until that moment. I knew abortion existed, and I had some faint inclination of what it was. I was a Christian, and I had a strong conviction that abortion was wrong, though I probably couldn’t have articulated why. I didn’t recall abortion being talked about in church very often (if at all), and I assumed the Bible had something to say about it, though I couldn’t have told you what that was. Sitting there in the hospital, holding this little boy, my son, the reality of abortion hit home. This little baby is what we are killing. I didn’t know how many, I didn’t know how often, but I knew it was happening. And, as quickly as it came, the thought left. I returned to my new-father state of terror. Thankfully, all was well with Jessica and Caleb, and a few days later, we went home to start our new adventure as a young family. Years would pass before I became more aware of what abortion is, how often it occurs, and the impact it has on parents, families, and communities. I became involved with a local crisis pregnancy center and started to educate myself. I was horrified by what I learned. Not only was the abortion surgery a gruesome, barbaric process, but I was astounded by how frequently it occurred. I assumed the entire American church was intimately, aggressively involved in the effort to defend unborn life and protect families from abortion. I was wrong. This book represents a very personal journey for me. I have been a Christian since the age of six, so I have often found myself living in the so-called “Christian bubble.” I grew up in strong, biblical churches. My parents, my brother, and his family are committed Christians. My upbringing was stable, fruitful, and positive. Most of the companies and organizations I have worked for were family-oriented, faith-based, and energetic. I love Jesus. I love His church. I have experienced the profound blessing of being raised in a godly home and being part of strong Christian communities. And so it was with surprise, shock, dismay, and even horror that I discovered that the American church, on the whole, is not actively defending and protecting innocent life. And in some cases, the church actually promotes abortion. In many churches, abortion is never mentioned from the pulpit. If abortion is discussed at all, it is once a year on Sanctity of Life Sunday, the sad reminder of the anniversary of Roe v. Wade. It is rare to find post-abortive recovery and healing ministries in churches, and almost all of them are for women. Support for post-abortive men is virtually nonexistent. Precious few pastors or priests write about abortion, and few will publicly defend the unborn. Most denominations have no organized effort to assist families in a crisis pregnancy. Though a child dies every twenty-five seconds in America due to abortion, God’s family, the church, appears ambivalent. We talk about evangelism, but we don’t understand the full scope of the gospel. We talk about caring for the poor, but we neglect the frailest members of the human race. We talk about healing, but we ignore the post-abortive, grieving parents sitting next to us in the pews. I continue to struggle with a haunting question: Why do we, as followers of the Creator God, often refuse to protect His image-bearers? Why do we, as followers of the God-Man who showed the most precious grace and compassion to women, allow our own wives and girlfriends to be destroyed from the inside out by the deadliest crisis our country has ever faced? Why do we, as people who say we want to live like the Christ of the Bible, who welcomed children with open arms, permit the arms and legs of our own children to be torn from their tiny bodies in the name of choice? This project has, at times, caused me to doubt myself and the strength of my commitment to the unborn. It has caused me to doubt the American church, even my own denomination. I have often wondered about the relevancy of the institution of the church in a culture that is increasingly hostile to it. Writing this book has forced me to scour the Scriptures, digging into its depths to discover what the Bible does and does not teach about abortion and life in the womb. I’ve been brought to the point of tears numerous times, realizing that our nation is in the middle of a torrential downpour of death, and those who are called to sacrificially protect life appear oblivious to the raging storm. Thankfully, there are Christians working hard to stop abortion in America. There are activists, politicians, lobbyists, pregnancy center staff and volunteers, media experts, writers, bloggers, doctors, nurses, lawyers, and counselors doing wonderful work in the areas where God has called them. They work tirelessly to save babies and restore our culture to one that treasures life. There are those precious pastors and priests who refuse to stay silent, actively engaging in pro-life work. They preach about abortion from the pulpit, and not just on Sanctity of Life Sunday. The John Pipers, Fr. Frank Pavones, Matt Chandlers, Al Mohlers, John Ensors, Tony Evans, Randy Alcorns, and others of this country have my profound gratitude and respect. They understand that...