A Christ-follower's response to sidewalk activism

Monday morning when I dropped my kids off at Sandpoint High School, we were greeted by a passionate, silent, and I’m sure well-intentioned group of people on the sidewalk holding large signs announcing the dark side of abortion. Intense signs — signs complete with pictures of aborted fetuses laying on a sterile white table.

It’s hard to describe the rush of emotion I felt in that moment. I didn’t say much until the kids got out of the car, and then the words started. The conversation I had with myself was … well … I’m glad I was alone! I played out five or six great scenarios — one where I ran down the sidewalk, ripping the signs from the activist’s hands. In another, I made a sign of my own and stood next to the others (I won’t tell you what my sign said). I almost posted a comment on Facebook describing my feelings, but wisdom (and past experience) has taught me better. So now, many hours later, there is one thing I can do — write.

I’m not sure who the activists were, and that’s not the issue. I did make some assumptions though. I assumed they are Christians. I bet most people who saw them made the same assumption. Obviously Christians are not the only people who are pro-life, but they seem to be the ones who often lead the way with public statements similar to this.

I’m a Christian. A lot of great people I know are Christians as well. And the people on the sidewalk don’t speak for all of us. It grieves us deeply to see this sort of thing. I have a hard time wrapping my head around how the love and grace of Jesus Christ can be adequately communicated on poster board through pixilated images and words in red.

Ironically (or maybe not), I’m also pro-life. I love human life, and I long to see America lead our world in valuing life — both in the womb and out of the womb. And as much as I am for the unborn, I am also for the post-abortive woman. And my heart breaks at the thought of every post-abortive woman who finds herself thrust into a painful series of memories because of an unwelcome reminder by well-intentioned people.

I can’t help but wonder if in our zeal as followers of Christ to value the unborn, some actually devalue millions of post-abortive women and men. I’m not talking about strangers. I’m talking about our friends, classmates and coworkers, our daughters, sisters, fathers and cousins — all whom are deeply loved by us and by God.

I have no ill will against those who promote their convictions on street corners. It’s their approach that I take issue with. So I guess I’m sending a message of my own, and I bet I’m not the only one who feels this way. Since I can’t bring myself to write it on poster board, this will have to do:

To every woman who knows firsthand the reality of abortion …I’m so sorry.

To every man who has directly or indirectly experienced the reach of abortion … I’m so sorry.

To anyone who has been made to feel guilty, shameful, worthless, or unwanted by followers of Jesus Christ … I’m so sorry.

To those whom I have personally treated in less than loving ways through my words and actions … I’m so sorry.

I hope that we won’t blame Jesus for the actions of his followers — followers like me. I know how broken and imperfect I am, and yet I am the recipient of amazing grace. And I’ve discovered this about Jesus … He’s not standing on the corner with a sign reminding me how broken I am. He’s not waving his finger in my face reminding me how badly I’ve let him down. He’s extending a loving and forgiving hand to me — no guilt, no shame, no condemnation — no matter who I am or what I have done.

• Eric and his wife Nicole are raising their three kids in Sandpoint, and serve as the pastors of Cedar Hills Church.