Tuesday, September 18, 2018

Lessons Learned outside the Abortion Clinic part 3: We Have a Hard Privilege


Click here to see part 1 and here for part 2.

The third lesson I’ve been learning is that we have a hard privilege. 

In one sense, I don’t want to be there. I hate having to go out to a place where children are being torn limb from limb and vacuumed out of the place God designed for them to be kept safest. I hate seeing men and women stumble towards the slaughter of their own children and their own souls.  I'd rather not have to think about all that. It complicates life, and it adds sorrow.

In another sense, we count it a hard privilege that God has entrusted us with, and we want to be there.

This ministry is hard. Some days no one seems to listen to our heartfelt offers to walk alongside them. We get screamed at by people who seem to only be able to clearly annunciate their curse words and only able to wave with one finger pointed up. Perhaps the hardest aspect, though, is that we often have to be content not knowing the outcome for the children and men and women we speak for and to. Some take our packets, but what do they do? Sometimes we get the privilege of knowing, but often we don’t. We have to be content with sowing and not often getting to observe much visible fruit.

It is hard, but it is a privilegeAs missionary CT Studd once said
“Some wish to stay within the sound of church or chapel bell. I'd rather run a rescue shop within a yard of hell.”
The door to the clinic seems to be a path to redeeming a person's life - what would be lost in pregnancy and child rearing can be regained by a short violent procedure against an innocent person. In reality, however, that is a door that leads to death. The Kingdom of Jesus calls out telling people that the path to life is to die to self, take up your cross and follow King Jesus who saves sinners. It looks like a death sentence... and it is. But, to die to self and gain a right relationship to God is truly life to the fullest.

We are ambassadors for Jesus’ Kingdom right outside the gates of hell. In my comfort loving flesh, I'd much rather live within the churchyard all day long (and there is much work to do in the churchyard). But in my soul, I know some of us must be doing Kingdom work on the frontlines.  We have the privilege of being part of God’s plan to rescue sinners. Every Christian has this responsibility and privilege wherever they are, but we sense it deeply outside the abortion clinic. Not only that, we have the privilege to be in situations where we sense our utter dependence on God. Again, every Christian (and person) is totally dependent on God for all things, but we feel our inadequacy deeply as we talk to distressed men and women. We know our weakness, but we remember that we have a powerful Savior. This has brought much growth in our own love and trust in the Lord. We believe it brings him glory. So, we thank God for this hard privilege.

Is This a Hard Privilege You Sense the Lord Leading You Towards?

If you would like to learn more about our church's ministry and consider coming out to the clinic to pray or call out, send me an email (ben@gcot.org). We could use some help. Only those who know they are inadequate need apply.

Tuesday, September 11, 2018

Lessons Learned about Ministering Outside an Abortion Clinic, Part 2

(click here for part 1).

Lesson 2: Our Words Are Important, Even If Not Ultimate.

When we first started, I was a bit too focused on trying to say just the right words. Obviously, we must communicate the gospel correctly. I just mean the words I’d use to call out to people, as they entered the clinic, in my efforts to get them to come to talk to us.

The Lord reminded me that there is no formula that can replace the work of his Spirit (1 Corinthians 2:1, 4). We can’t rely on our eloquence.

That being said, I also realized that our words are important. As ambassadors for Christ, we must seek to use our words to be inviting and to cause people to think. So, I don’t think there are magic formulas, but we came up with a few standard things to say.

We decided to begin calling out with the line, “Hi, my name is Ben, could I give you a care packet and bottle of water.” Using our name is an effort to remind them that we are human beings just like them (not talking heads). It is so easy to dehumanize those we perceive as being against us and to ignore them. We don’t want to be viewed as their enemies. Instead, we want them to see us for who we are - those who are truly for them and their baby.

We also realized that in conversations we wanted to use questions to show compassion. These women aren't there because they are trying to make a pro-choice statement, but because they feel their situation is too difficult for them to handle. So, we found it helpful to ask questions like
“What is the biggest hurdle you are facing in this pregnancy the thing that ‘if only this’ then I would feel I could protect my baby?” It isn't a magic formula. This is merely one way that mercy can knock at the door and offer to come in and help.

We also wanted to use questions to get them thinking about God and to open gospel opportunities. Afterall, their greatest need (and mine) is to see God as the greatest treasure, all-knowing judge, and powerful provider. I've found that asking, "What do you think God thinks about your situation?" seems to be a good way to get to this deeper issue.  It provides an opportunity to consider God and his ways and their own situation which they may or may not have already done. The key, however, is not to simply speak, but to listen to what they think about God and then try to speak the truth that addresses where they are coming from.

None of these are "result producing rhetoric." I've said things well and had people shout profane things back at me. I've really jumbled up my words and had people come to talk to me and receive a care packet. My words can't replace God's power and they can't thwart it either. But our words do matter. Feeble as they are, they do allow us to show mercy and offer God's wisdom. So, I've been learning not to trust the power of our words while also learning how to use words well.