Dear Sisters and Brothers in Christ,

I would like to use this open letter to suggest a way to bring the two opposing sides together to a solid central stance on the abortion issue facing our denomination at the 216^th General Assembly. I begin with the testimony below; however, for those who would like to cut to the chase, please scan down past the two photos to the section titled “CUT TO THE CHASE”.

In August of 2003, I drove my two sons, Nathanael (13) and Joseph (9) to pick up Rev. Hano, a dear friend who had offered to show us a good way to climb to the top of Mount Fuji. On the long expressway from Nagoya to Yoshiwara, I chatted with my two boys until they fell asleep. Then, as I listened to the soothing hum of our light gray Toyota Estima (called a “Prius” in the States), I thought back two years earlier to when Joseph and I had first attempted that climb. 

For a seven-year-old, Mount Fuji is huge. After having climbed for several hours, the shivering white mist had grown thick around us. Being summer, we had not thought to bring coats — a severe mistake on Japan’s highest mountain. I bundled Joseph up in my blue flannel shirt and we determinedly clambered on, step after step. Then darkness began to descend faster than I had anticipated. Knowing it would get far colder at night, I made the weighty decision to turn around. Joseph, who had been looking forward to this climb for many months, cried heartfelt sobs at the loss. Feeling dejected, we trudged silently back down. 

I saw a huge rock ahead and inspiration hit. “You know, Joey, this rock used to be at the top. All the rocks around us used to be at the top. So let’s put you on top of this big one as a promise that we’ll go to the real top later. Okay?”

He stopped, looked up at the rock, and accepted the promise. “Okay, Dad.”

Hoisting him up on the rock, he beamed at me his characteristic loving smile as I snapped this photo.
 

As the kilometers continued to speed beneath my wheels, my mind again went back, this time all the way to May of 1993. Judy was five months pregnant. We had been in Japan for two months, starting a career as self-supported missionaries. We had attributed Judy’s problems throughout this pregnancy to the hassles that go along with moving an entire household from one country to another. Then she took a turn for the worse. Her skin color visibly turned ashen gray. She couldn’t move or hardly even talk. Alarmed, I got a wheel chair and wheeled her across the street to the hospital. 

Judging from the location and severity of the pain and the alarmingly high white blood cell count, the doctor prepared for an emergency appendectomy. He put her ahead of all his other surgeries and said, “Now, in operations like this the baby usually does not survive, so prepare yourself. You do have two other children, so be grateful for that.”

Judy looked at me and began shaking her head resolutely back and forth. Forcing her lips to move she managed to whisper to me, “If he is talking about an abortion to save my life, tell him NO!” The idea of losing our little one repulsed both of us. The doctor had not given us a choice, but several years earlier we had talked about this possibility and had, at that time, already made our decision.

Instantly I said, “Doctor!” 

He turned sharply toward us, looking at his watch. “What is it?”

“We want this baby — even at the risk of the mother’s life.”

He said curtly, “But that means it will be a much more difficult operation. We will have to have a pediatrician present to be the baby’s doctor throughout the operation. It will cost you more for the extra doctor. And I cannot guarantee the results.”

“There are two lives there, doctor,” I replied. “Please work to protect them both.”

Shaking his head, he walked quickly out the door to prepare for the operation. A few minutes later, the nurse came to wheel Judy away. 

I felt lonely. This was her second emergency surgery. Fourteen years before, she had had another emergency surgery because of a tubal pregnancy. I had come close to losing her then, as well. 

I cried out to God from my soul. I phoned everyone I knew. Many joined in prayer.

Three hours later, the doctor found me. “Your wife is in recovery now. From her previous operation, the fallopian tube had fallen over and creased, shutting off the blood supply to her right ovary. It had become necrous, spreading the decay through her abdomen. We got to her just in time.” Then he paused and said, “Your child is alive.”

“You mean it’s born?”

“No. Your wife is still pregnant. We had a pediatrician present to watch out for the unborn child.”

I slowly let my breath out. “Thank you doctor. I am so grateful for everything you have done.”

As he got up to leave, he complained, “It was difficult to get my fingers around behind the five-month fetus to do the surgery. It made the operation take much longer.”

We knew then that the only reason we still had our unborn child was because Judy and I had demanded that we wanted it.

And that child is Joseph.
 

Finally, we reached Yoshiwara and spent the night in futon on the floor of Rev. Hano’s Yoshiwara Fuji-View Church. 

Before dawn we began our ascent. At age fifty, I kept the group at a slower than usual pace. Rev. Hano guided us all the way to the top. Joseph realized his dream of climbing Mount Fuji to the top!

August, 2003: Rev. Hano, Joseph, Andy, and Nathanael finally achieve the summit of Mount Fuji

Reading the documents produced by our denomination has given me a deep appreciation for all those who worked countless hours to hash out statements that would be as fair as possible. The documents take into account the life of the unborn, the varying circumstances of women, and the responsibilities of the church to provide counsel and spiritual direction. I can see the compassion exhibited on the parts of those representing all sides of this volatile issue. These have been no simplistic decisions. I applaud the church for this process.

The “five most common viewpoints” of when human life begins is most interesting. Simply put, the five views are: (1) at conception; (2) when the fetus responds to various stimuli (including evidence of brain activity), usually around the third month; (3) at “quickening”, usually around four to five months; (4) at “viability”, usually around 20 weeks; or (5) once the child has been born.

Were I on the committee, I would have been with the group that would have favored Scripture as the basis for deciding instead of finding the five views of Presbyterians as the basis for deciding. I prefer a position that comes out for the Scriptural view that God somehow planned each and every conception from the foundation of the world, and that in the same way that David left Saul’s demise up to God’s hand instead of taking it into his own hand, so we must leave the demise of even malformed fetuses in God’s hands and not take their lives into our own hands.

In short, I would far prefer for our denomination to take the position of saying abortion of any kind is sin — and then talk about forgiveness for those who do that (or any other sin, for that matter), rather than talking about forgiveness as a reason for permitting it. The effect would be to have a standard (which is Biblical) but also forgiveness (which is also Biblical).

To go to the Lord Jesus for his method, we find him telling the woman caught in adultery not only that he did not condemn her (the forgiveness aspect), but also that she should go and sin no more (the standard aspect). If we as a denomination take this view, those on the right as well as those on the left can have a middle ground on which they can both agree. This includes the Biblical standard (which the right knows is “right”) and the deep forgiveness of God (which the left knows should not be “left” out). 

This is not forgiveness as the basis for moving from a Biblical standard, but forgiveness because all of us sin. Anyone who sees the eternal finger of Jesus writing in the sinful sand of our world cannot cast a stone against anyone for having committed sin.

I urge the 216^th General Assembly to move toward this middle ground in this issue — and in other issues.

Soli Deo Gloria,

Andy & Judy Carrick