Ministers & Ministry

While standing outside our local abortion clinic I made acquaintance with a guy from another area church. I’d never met the man before but anyone standing on the front-line is either going to be a pretty decent type of just plain crazy.  

“I’m gonna try and get my pastor out here sometime and some of the other people in my church.” Said the man standing next to me as we stood, holding our signs for the passing cars to see.

“Well, go easy on them,” said I, “It took a while for me to come out here.”

It had taken some time for me to come around. I understand that abortion is one of many judgments that God is visiting upon those who do not follow Him. ‘All those who hate me love death’ is a biblical truth that plays in my mind constantly and rightly affects my view of life.

But that really shouldn’t stop me from proclaiming the Son’s rule and reign before the world, right? After all, if I take ‘present judgment’ too far I shouldn’t ever witness to anyone. And, if I am an ambassador for Christ, then standing near the gates of hell is a strategic place to be. After all, there is a lot of action and visibility…people driving by, people showing up for their appointments, abortion doctors swerving their cars toward you attempting to scare you away, pro-abortion protesters screaming at you, police cars arriving….   

“You know,” said I speaking to my newfound brother-in-arms, “every passenger in the cars that pass us are either bringing more of the Lord’s blessing or greater wrath upon themselves ‘cause God said, ‘I will bless those that bless you and curse those who curse you’.

He nodded. “Makes sense. Not only are we making everyone that passes us aware of the issue but also every wave, thumbs up and approving honk of the horn is a blessing to us.” “And,” he continued, “all of those folks that yell and give us the finger compound the curse upon themselves.”

“Yep.” Said I.

We both watched a car pull into the parking lot. Another young woman had arrived, driven to the abortuary by her dad or boyfriend or mother…ironic, that last one.

Several of our people began attempting a conversation with the people exiting the car. Sometimes, the ‘patients’ will come over and talk. Some curse or ignore our pleadings and quickly enter the building. The there are those who listen. Sometimes they break down and cry. A few repent of their intentions, thank us, and drive away.

You never know what the outcome will be—so if you are a sign holder across the street—you watch and pray.

Our group on Wednesdays covers two fronts. There are the sign-holders that make up most of the participants. They position their signs so that the messages printed on them are clearly seen by the passersby. Several people are staged to speak to anyone arriving at the abortion mill. They call out and entreat in a caring way for those bent on destruction to reconsider their actions. As appropriate, they are confronted with the Gospel. While they may rebuff or ignore our people there is one question that almost always stops them in their tracks—“Are you a Christian?”.  

Those who profess their faith before us ‘in the very act’ of premeditated murder often begin to excuse themselves with pathetic statements like, ‘God wouldn’t want me to bring this child into the world’ or ‘God understands my situation’.

Yeah, it’s intense for life and death are on the line and that line is drawn by none other than the King of the universe.

Which brings me back to my newfound friend. There is a camaraderie formed amidst such action. The people from my own congregation who have known each other for years are ‘tighter’ in their association with one another. We have suffered insult and abuse, we have rejoiced as pregnant girls and their escorts has driven away, we have sung the songs of Zion and watched our antagonists shrink away, we have wept as our pleas are ignored and another baby dies, we have been encouraged as other Christians have supported us. Some stand with us. Some stop and buy us coffee or water or lunch.

Today, it’s me and Sam, in the cold, holding our signs and enjoying the esprit-de-corps that only soldiers know. We wave at people driving by. Many wave back in support others gesticulate in anger…all on their way to somewhere and to eternity.