The psalm we call 139 is a favorite of many, among them my wife, who hear in it the searching, parental love of a God who will not let us go. Even those who study ancient Hebrew agree this Psalm is special: it advances the claim than even before our birth, when our bodies are formless and invisible to the human eye, God is at work with us, having full knowledge of what and who we will be. So deep, so intimate is God’s knowledge of each created person, that there is nowhere we can go, nothing we can do, to be lost to our Creator.

But if Psalm 139 has always been special to those who love God, I imagine it may mean more now than ever, because so many these days have somehow forgotten, or never learned, that they are loved and wanted. I think of such a person when I remember Sara (which is not her name), a 19-year old high school drop-out with a knack for choosing men who wanted her, but didn’t love her. Sara’s parents did love her, but their increasing alarm and disapproval of her habits had led to a succession of fights, and to Sara’s rejection of what she saw as their attempt to control her. Sara’s abandonment of her parents, of her friends from the Youth group, and any form of counsel from those concerned for her looked very much like hostility to the world in general. But really, these things were an outward expression of her own deep feelings of inadequacy, of uncertainty about the world and how she fit into it. So she made her own way, and by her looks and charm, she found validation of a sort.

It will perhaps surprise no one that after a week of feeling nauseas, Sara discovered that she was pregnant. Devastated, scared, and angrier now more than ever, Sara informed her current boyfriend, who volunteered that he didn’t consider it likely the child was his. Sara knew several acquaintances who’d been to a clinic to put an end to the very dilemma she now faced. Ashamed to go to her parents or to talk with her pastor, Sara considered that in the space of a few hours, with no more money than what she thought she could borrow in a day, she could get on with her life. She could keep someone from making an unwelcome demand on it forever.

We speak, of course, of the most painful, most divisive issue of the last 35 years. We come together this morning in full recognition that we, like the broader community around us, do not all agree on abortion. In fact, unlike some denominations in which the clear majority of members could be described as against abortion, or a smaller number of churches in which the majority would be presumed to favor abortion, Methodism is home to both sides, and in this probably our denomination comes closest to mirroring the nation as a whole.

How did we get to this place – where we walk cautiously around each other, worried that someone may throw gasoline on ever-sparking pro-choice/pro-life conflict? Abortion is not a new practice, certainly. It was known in the ancient world: the ancient Chinese and Egyptians practiced it, and we know that the Romans did, as well. Always medically dangerous, abortions were performed on the American frontier, but by the mid-19th Century, states increasingly had passed laws against it, citing concerns for the lives of unborn children. For many years, when abortions did occur they were performed illegally, sometimes by untrained people in appalling conditions. Many mothers died, together with the unborn children they did not want.

Then came January 22, 1973. On that day a peace accord was signed in Viet Nam, and also a former President, Lyndon B. Johnson, died. But today no one speaks of these events – they recall something else, something that would transform our nation in ways visible and invisible. You may recall that the previous decade of the 1960s had brought considerable advancement in the social, economic and political opportunities available to women. One of the questions being raised had to do with the right of women to control their own reproductive organs.

It was at this time that a woman named Norma McCorvey sued the state of Texas for the right to have a legal and safe abortion. At that time, 1971, Texas was among the majority of states that permitted abortion for reasons of medical necessity – but did not allow elective abortions, for which there was no medical reason a pregnancy should be ended. After a series of appeals, Jane Roe (as Ms. McCorvey was called to protect her privacy) v. Wade reached the US Supreme Court, which in 1973 struck down all state laws prohibiting elective abortion. In an instant, the 46 states that had had such prohibitions were compelled to recognize abortion as a constitutionally-guaranteed right, under the 14th Amendment (of the right to Privacy). Roe v. Wade meant unhampered access to abortion-on-request for women during the first trimester of a pregnancy.

Reasoning that the procedure becomes more medically risky in the later trimesters, the Court ruled that states were permitted to regulate second-trimester abortions – but only for the purpose of protecting the health of the mother, not for limiting access to abortion, per se. Finally, at the time an unborn child is viable, or can survive outside the womb, the Court said that the states could regulate or even prohibit abortion, except in a case where doing so would medically endanger the health or life of the mother.

Later Supreme Court rulings have allowed states to attach certain requirements to first-trimester abortions, such as waiting periods or parental consent for minors. But along the way, something has happened on a scale that no one at the time of Roe v. Wade anticipated. While estimates in 1973 placed the likely number of abortions each year at a few hundred thousand, by 1990 there were over 1.4 million legal abortions performed in the US. That number, still over a million, has dropped more recently due to a variety of factors, particularly the availability of the so-called “morning-after pill” that prevents the implantation of a fertilized egg. All in all, more than 40 million abortions have followed the Court’s fateful decision.

It should not escape anyone’s notice that there are sincere and devout Christians on both sides of this massive, painful issue. Those believers who tend to favor abortion rights point out that to compel women to carry a pregnancy to full-term represents an invasion of the most intimate sovereignty of all - their right to determine the inner-working of one’s own body. Many of these advocates do have concern for the loss of unborn children, expressing themselves as a dear friend of mine does, saying “I am not pro-abortion; I would never want one myself. But I don’t think we as a society should ignore the circumstances that might make an unplanned pregnancy traumatic, or even devastating, for a woman who was forced by law to carry it.”

This recognizes that some of these women may not have had a supportive partner, as Sara clearly did not. Others may have had intimacy forced upon them by a boyfriend, have had their method of birth control fail, or have been using drugs that might endanger their unborn child’s development. Some may have been very young, virtually children themselves. Certainly, in a relatively small number of elective abortions, the pregnancy may have occurred as the result of rape or incest, or the discovery of serious fetal abnormalities. In recognition of circumstances like these, many who love Jesus support the legal right to a safe, elective abortion, out of compassion and love for the mother.

Those who oppose abortion also tend to act out of compassion and love, on behalf of the unborn child who has no legal rights. Admittedly, a small number of pro-life fringe groups and individuals have brought great harm to this notion of being motivated by compassion, creating spectacles at clinics, targeting and even murdering doctors who perform abortions, and showing something that looks less like the love of Christ, and more like hate. But the vast majority of Christians who oppose abortion do not approve of these extremist views and actions. These Christians believe that all life is a gift from God, and that only God should take life away. They note that the vast majority of abortions are not brought about by rape, incest or fetal abnormality, but rather by less adverse criteria than these. They point to the development of the unborn child, to the fingers, toes, and movements of a fetus at three-months, and ask: how can this be just a mass of tissue, something that is without life? They also note that many who have had abortions experienced trauma and grief because of the procedure, and some, a sense of loss that has lingered for years, or even a lifetime.

The Bible speaks to many deep crises of the human condition. But it says nothing specifically about abortion. Are we in the Church, then, condemned to listening to and sometimes engaging in angry rhetoric, in attacks on the decency of others’ motives, in the callow politics that garner votes and split the nation? Here at St. Mark’s, can we, should we just pretend that these matters may impact the lives of others, but not those of our families, ourselves?

Surely not. I think we in the Church, we in this Church, should speak forthrightly about what the Bible does make unambiguously clear. God does indeed know and love those being knit together in their mother’s wombs. All human life is precious before God, and belongs to God. God does indeed love desperate mothers, frightened teenagers and rape victims, because all life is precious before God.

The United Methodist Church has a strong, though often misunderstood, stand on the practice of abortion. In our “Social Principles,” which are very seldom-read calls for Christian dialog in our Book of Discipline, the Church urges ministries of care and outreach to women considering an abortion, and also care and compassion for those who have requested and had an abortion. The statement recognizes explicitly the historic Christian witness that acknowledges the potential need for an abortion when the life of the unborn child is in conflict with that of the mother. Our Church does not affirm abortion as a means of birth control, and unconditionally rejects the practice as a means of choosing the gender of one’s next child.

So in witness to our tradition and our faith, it seems to me that we in the Church - who do not agree fully - ought to agree at least on four things. We can reduce the crisis of unplanned pregnancy by speaking openly and honestly to our children about waiting to become parents, and refraining from doing what leads to becoming parents. We can and should speak of sexuality as a gift by God to Holy Marriage, and we can ask for help in this from our church and Youth ministry.

We can also work to support ministries that lift up women with crisis pregnancies, like the Blue Ridge Women’s Center here in Roanoke, and United Methodist Family Services in Richmond, which offer counseling and practical assistance for women who decide to parent their children, and adoption services to those who in love choose to give up their child. Remember Sara? I should tell you that Sara had grown up in the Church, and had learned that some adults could be trusted. She shared the news of her pregnancy, and ultimately told her parents about it. In the end, she did not go to United Methodist Family Services, but to the home for unwed mothers run by, of all people, the late Jerry Falwell. There she gave birth to a little girl, and gave her daughter to a Virginia family to raise as their own. That little girl is now eight years old, and last I heard, is a star soccer player.

Thirdly, we can recognize that the God who knits us together in our mothers’ wombs may indeed have a purpose and a place for those born with bodies different from ours. We Christians should be at the forefront of those seeking to welcome the handicapped, rather than forced by the government to do it. By the grace of God, we can at least stop saying, “It doesn’t matter whether it’s a boy or a girl, so long as it’s healthy!” Let’s learn to rejoice in the birth of all children, who are all made in the image of God!

Lastly, let us remember how Jesus loved and forgave the woman who wept at his feet, obviously grieving some deep sin that had others whispering, and for which they’d already condemned her. If you have had an abortion, your child is not lost to God. And neither are you.

So let us in the church take note – our place is not only to show love and concern for the endangered unborn, but also with mothers at risk, including those who have made, especially under adversity, a painful and difficult decision, one that they will live with always. God knew us in the womb, has numbered all our days, and loves us all. Friends, how can we do less than to love accordingly?

Amen.

[Note: the messages in this sermon series are my own; however, I draw upon Sections J and K of “The Social Principles” of The Discipline of the United Methodist Church, “Abortion,” and “Ministry to Those Who Have Experienced an Abortion.” I am also indebted to Rev. Adam Hamilton’s book Confronting the Controversies: Biblical Perspectives on Tough Issues (Abingdon Press, 2005), pp. 110-127. In our Wednesday Bible study series we will make use of both these resources.]