Free to Differ

Screenshot 2017-05-09 08.55.41President Trump has promised to “destroy” the so-called Johnson Amendment, which has become shorthand for a provision in the tax code that applies to all 501(c)(3) organizations. Groups that enjoy that most-favored tax status must refrain from endorsing, opposing or financially supporting political candidates.

The law makes perfect sense to me.  Organizations that benefit from what is in effect a public subsidy should not be allowed to function as partisan organizations.

Proponents of repeal of the Johnson Amendment see it as suppressing “religious liberty.”  I don’t see it that way at all.  The law simply limits groups, including churches, from being both a tax-exempt ministry and a partisan political entity.  Nothing in the law bars me, as a Christian pastor, from speaking freely about matters of faith and public policy.  I can certainly praise or criticize those who hold public office.  What I can’t do under the law is endorse candidates for office – at least not in my capacity as the pastor of First Presbyterian Church.

In many ways, this fracas is much ado about nothing.  Only rarely has the IRS gone after churches for overt partisan political activity.  Despite what fear mongers say, the IRS is not poised to pounce on preachers.

Although I have occasionally been asked to endorse candidates for office, it has always been my policy not to do so.  I suppose that, as a private citizen, I could endorse someone, but, as any pastor will tell you, a pastor is never really “off duty.”  I have never endorsed –nor will I ever endorse – anyone from the pulpit.  On the other hand, my calling to preach the Word sometimes leads me to question or praise office holders and their policies.

My Dad, who was a pastor, declined to put a political sign in the yard of the manse.  When he lived in a home not owned by the church, however, he changed his mind.  I don’t put partisan bumper stickers on my car because I use it for official functions.  I don’t want a grieving family of a differing political persuasion to follow my car in a funeral procession, resentful of my politics.  On the other hand, because I own my own home, you might see the odd political sign in the front yard (or several of them.)

This week’s edition of Time magazine recalls the almost-forgotten role that some clergy played in the abortion debate before the Supreme Court’s ruling on Roe versus Wade.  Writer Gillian Frank singles out the courageous acts taken by Charles Landreth, Associate Pastor of First Presbyterian Church of Tallahassee, and Florida State University Professor Leo Sandon.  The first paragraph of her article reads:

“Today I want to speak to The Challenge of the Sexual Revolution, or to The Use of the Body in Regard to Abortion,” declared the Reverend Charles Landreth on, June 6, 1971. From the pulpit of First Presbyterian Church in Tallahassee, Fla., Landreth invited those present to imagine different situations that led to a “problem pregnancy.” Landreth prodded his congregants, asking them to consider what an unwanted pregnancy and lack of access to abortion could mean to an older married woman, a young woman who had been raped or a high-school girl “scared literally to death to tell her staunch Catholic parents and therefore very tempted to run to a quack . . . ”

I recommend the article.  I also give thanks to God for servants like Charlie Landreth and Leo Sandon, who truly understand what “religious liberty” means.

God’s Will — Except When It’s Not

Theologians have a hard enough time trying to discern the will of God.  When a candidate for the U. S. Senate takes up that difficult subject in the context of a three-way debate, the waters get very muddy indeed.

Last night (October 23, 2012) Republican Senate nominee Richard Mourdock said a life conceived by rape “is something God intended to happen” and must be protected.  All three of the candidates vying for Indiana’s contested Senate seat are opposed to abortion, but it was Mr. Mourdock who asserted that his stand is motivated by his conviction that he knows the will of God in every case of rape.

Mr. Mourdock would make abortion illegal except in cases in which the life of the mother is threatened.  But not in cases of rape.  “I’ve struggled with it myself for a long time, but I came to realize that life is that gift from God,” Mr. Mourdock said. “And even when life begins in that horrible situation of rape, that it is something that God intended to happen.”

I have to wonder why Mr. Mourdock would allow a woman to get an abortion to save her own life.  Surely if God “gifts” rape victims with pregnancy, God must also “gift” women with pregnancy at the risk of their lives.  It seems Mr. Mourdock not only knows God’s will for most women, he also knows that God alters his will for some other women.

You see the problem.  When lawmakers — especially male lawmakers — base legislation on their views of God’s will, we’re all in trouble –especially women.  If you don’t believe me, ask the women of Afghanistan.

Abortion is an enormously complicated moral issue.  Like Mr. Mourdock, I have struggled with this dilemma, and, although I respect the “seamless garment” argument embraced by Roman Catholic officialdom, I think the decision should be left to the woman in conversation with her physician, her loved ones, and her faith community.

Opponents of abortion tend to present the issue as morally unambiguous.  It’s not.  Simply stating that this – but not that – pregnancy is “the will of God” doesn’t really advance the conversation.  It just paints the people who support choice as opposed to the will of God.

In my lifetime some Christians have maintained that it is the will of God that women stay home to tend house, that “colored” and “white” people remain segregated, and that homosexuals go straight to hell.  God’s will is a difficult thing to discern.  It takes prayer, study, and honest conversation.  Then, with fear and trembling, we make a decision with the knowledge that we could be wrong.

There are days when I wish I had Mr. Mourdock’s moral clarity.  Most of the time, however, I’d say that kind of clarity is more curse than gift.