Embryos Are Human Lives—And So Are Five-Year-Olds

Hypothetically weighing the same as
a five-year-old child. 

My attempts to maintain my Christian integrity include regularly asking myself two questions. “What do I believe?” and “Do I do it?” These apply to a wide range subjects and are important applications of the overall question, “What would Jesus have me do?”

Why This Came Up Recently

Those two questions are at the heart of an exercise in ethics put forth on October 18 by “author” and “comic” Patrick S. Tomlinson in a series of tweets. (For other middle-aged white guys and our elders, that means short, 140-word-or-fewer posts to the social media platform called Twitter.)

Why bother with Tomlinson’s hypothetical? Two reasons. First, the question he asks has value in forcing me to consider those two questions again, this time with regard to my belief in the sanctity of life from conception through natural death. The second reason is that, with over twenty-five thousand followers, and friends of mine reposting commentaries on the discussions he has sparked, it seemed appropriate to answer his question, even for my significantly fewer friends and followers.

I admit. I would save the five-year-old.
And not just because I hope
he'll be mowing my lawn before long.

His hypothetical (You can find it here: https://twitter.com/stealthygeek/status/920085535984668672) pits the life of a five-year-old child against “a frozen container labeled ‘1000 Viable Human Embryos’” in the midst of a choking cloud of smoke in a burning fertility clinic. The question is, “Which do you save?”

Tomlinson claims that he has never received an honest answer to his question. He supposes that my choice of the one child over the other 1000 human lives in the container either makes me a monster, or proves that I do not really consider the embryos to be human lives. I disagree with his conclusion for several reasons—some of which I am going to subject you to here.

The Shifting Scenario

If you read even the comments Tomlinson allows to be posted, every time he does get someone’s honest answer, he adds another qualifier to the question. And it's a hypothetical question to begin with, which has no basis in objective reality. Still, be that as it may, it's a provocative-enough exercise to have value for examining one's integrity. But the examination should consider the integrity in his logic, at least as much as a Christian’s ethics or morality.

Logically speaking, his question can be compared to asking whether you would risk your own life to rush into a burning building to save your worst enemy. Most followers of Christ's teachings would know what the answer is supposed to be and say, "Yes." Whether they would actually do it...well, that's why we like that it's a hypothetical.

But if you deny those believers' ethical and moral claims by changing the logic of the situation you present, that's disingenuous. It's like asking whether you would rush in to save your enemy, getting the "right" answer, and then adding "but that means you'd have to stop doing CPR on his child that you just rescued from that same burning building."

"Who would burn down
a fertility clinic?"

Answering the Question as the Monster I Am

Tomlinson says he has never once received an honest answer to his initial question. He later redefines “honest” to include a willingness “to accept responsibility for their answer,” but I hope I do both. Still, my honest answer is based on several important distinctions, some of which have to do with the “facts” presented in the hypothetical scenario he presents.

The environment in which an embryo is "viable" and may potentially survive beyond the fire, and beyond the misfortune of having been conceived artificially in a laboratory, is to be implanted inside a uterus. To my knowledge, suggesting otherwise, even hypothetically, currently works only in science fiction stories (author Tomlinson’s chosen genre). Therefore, on the basis of correcting the “viable” terminology of the hypothetical, the five-year-old will always get the nod. Tomlinson counters this argument, already made by others in comments tweeted back to him, by claiming the right to create whatever reality he chooses in his hypothetical. Even granting him that right, accepting that “viable” applies with the standard definition, “capable of surviving or living successfully, especially under particular environmental conditions,” I will still save the five-year-old.

Why?

My decision to save the five-year-old does not negate the fact that each embryo is still a human life, even as frozen in a stainless-steel container. So, why save one life and leave 1000 to die? Am I a monster?

During my stint in law-enforcement chaplaincy I was trained for first-responder rescues. In Professional-Rescuer CPR/Basic Life-Support—nothing really fancy—I was taught to apply a severe and arguably “monstrous” logic to situations such as what Tomlinson describes. (When I had opportunity to apply that logic, and made what I am convinced was “the right choice,” I did ask myself, “How did I end up here?” But that’s another story for another time. I survived, and so did the victim.)

You might want to ask the man holding the flame.
(Yes, that's really Patrick S. Tomlinson's
current profile picture.)

The key concept that applies even in Tomlinson’s fanciful hypothetical is called "triage." You save the save-able, even over the more severely injured; you choose those whose survival is most assured, even over larger numbers whose survival is questionable. The same equation applies to the embryos and the five-year-old. The child who has survived to age five also has greater odds (1:1) than the thousands of embryos that were already destined (with only a handful of potential exceptions) to be disposed of by the fertility clinic in which this is supposed to be occurring, and to which, presumably, they would be returned once the fire is extinguished.

(I will add here that believing in the sanctity of life from conception through natural death means that I also oppose the creation of so many lives that are destined for destruction in the process of this particular means of treating infertility. Again, though, another discussion for another time.)

Who Will You Save?

In either case, the surviving child gets prioritized over the already-condemned embryos, the successfully developing child gets prioritized above even the potentially developing embryos, and certainly reality gets prioritized above the hypothetical (especially when the hypothetical has no corollary in the real world).

So, who wants to apply these arguments to the life of the mother who will die without an abortion? Because while those cases occur far more rarely than most would imagine, that circumstance actually exists.

Minding Your Own Business: Why Our Opposition to Others Says So Much about Us

So many. So angry. So often.

The people who need this most are least likely to read it. I accept that. Sadly. But it may be that you have some influence with them. If so, then that makes two (or more) of us trying to replace diatribe with dialogue. In fact, though, “diatribe” is too kind a word. Defined by Oxford Living Dictionaries, a diatribe is “a forceful and bitter verbal attack against someone or something.”

Enmity’s litany has become liturgy on social media. It is not just that hateful name-calling is so endlessly repeated. There is a predictable order of claims and counterclaims following every new development. And periodically, just as with liturgical churches’ adherence to the three-year rotation of the lectionary, we complete a cycle of all the cardinal doctrines on each side, only to begin again.

The attacks are forceful and bitter. But are these forceful and bitter verbal attacks truly against someone or something? This is where I think the Oxford definition fails us. Because the attacks are against hollow shells, mere emblems of underlying hatred. In logic class they call it “the straw-man argument” when we misrepresent another’s position in order to more easily defeat it. The “ad-hominem” argument goes a step further and misrepresents other human persons as being so inherently wrong that any statement they present must be impossible to support.

As in the two prior posts in this series, I advise us to engage one another in dialogue, and determine to overcome the misunderstandings, and certain the misrepresentations. Before I tell you why I choose to pursue these dialogues, let me offer the hope I see for a remedy.

Though the Oxford definition is inadequate to describe the full extent of these hateful exchanges, it is also where I believe we may find the remedy. We readily offer diatribe against either persons for holding impossible positions on the issues (at least the way our “straw-man” misrepresents them), or against issues as being impossible to support because of those affiliated with them (at least the way our “ad-hominem” attacks choose to willfully misunderstand them).  The remedy I recommend is a renewed pursuit of relationships, indeed fellowship. Not just within the limitations of Church fellowship, but on the basis of solidarity among all human persons as created to bear the image and likeness of one God eternally existing in three Persons. (See previous posts in this series for some context.)

What the Bible teaches about fellowship is helpful to acknowledge here. True fellowship cannot help but be authentic, transparent, and vulnerable. To be authentic, I believe, means that if I say it, it should be true. To be transparent means that if it is true, I should say it. And that clearly leaves me vulnerable, since many will disparage me for the positions I hold, and attack the positions themselves merely because I am the one holding them.

Why do it, then? I choose to pursue these dialogues, primarily because of the role to which Christians are called as ambassadors. We are supposed to be representing the nature and character of Jesus Christ in a culture where He is often both misunderstood and misrepresented. I am deeply troubled by both those misunderstandings and the misrepresentations. I am even more troubled by the fact that I recognize both those misunderstandings and misrepresentations in both groups: those who claim to be followers of Jesus Christ, and those who do not. Worse, I see those who claim to be followers of Jesus Christ willfully misrepresenting others’ positions, which suggests strongly that these “Christians” patently misunderstand the Lord they claim to serve.

And so, a secondary reason I pursue these dialogues so vigorously is this: so many others who claim to be followers of Jesus Christ are so deeply engaged in such vehement diatribe as to discourage mere contact with Christians. This means that those who may actually seek understanding and a representation of Jesus Christ are less likely to attend where such “followers” are more likely to gather (a lot of churches, mostly). As a result, all of us are effectively being excluded from environments in which the kind of fellowship I have described is most likely to occur.

So, in case I have not been clear, I will continue to pursue dialogue, even with those who continue to propagate diatribe. And when you ask, as you likely will, “Why are you sticking your nose into my business?” I will direct you to these three posts.

Inspection and Introspection: Stick Your Nose into My Business

Just where I'd invited you to put it!

In my last post, I expressed my belief that my fellowship with God through Christ is enhanced not only through fellowship with other Christians, but in the fellowship of non-Christians. Fellowship in that last category, of course, is not based on our mutual faith-decision to be followers of Jesus Christ. But I pursue it as a natural result of my belief in the solidarity of all human persons created, as I believe we are, to bear the image and likeness of one God, eternally existing in three Persons.

As I wrote before, while I have been contemplating this call to fellowship, my sense of integrity demands I do more than contemplate it. And yet I do not pursue this fellowship as consistently as I would like—even with those claiming to follow Jesus Christ. In fact, I sometimes find it easier to pursue understanding and agreement with non-Christians, where some imagine that fellowship should be less likely to occur. But I am often enlightened by those of you who disagree with me about the nature, character, and role of Jesus Christ in our history, present, and future. Why? Because I can only lead my life, make my choices, and face the consequences of the choices I make. From you and others, then, I gain greater perspective into the many lives I cannot lead, choices I cannot make, and consequences I will not face.

I admit, I do look at your life, your choices, and your consequences as cautionary rather than exemplary. That means I watch for warnings in your life that might help me avoid similar outcomes in my own. As a follower of Jesus Christ, I can be expected to consider your life, choices, and consequences as inescapably wrong. What you might not expect, however, is that I consider my own to be the same. I just hope to avoid the pit you dig, or at least recognize that I am digging a similar one, perhaps earlier, and perhaps with enough awareness to put down my shovel.

And that brings me to the repentance and confession portion of the program.

As part of our fellowship, I have not always been clear about inviting you to participate in the same kind of mutual inspection and introspection I have offered to you. To be clearer about that, here are two questions I think we each need to answer.

The first question has to do with the easier task of inspection: what do I see in you that leads me to wonder about, question, or even oppose you? It may be a belief or behavior, your position on an issue, or any number of other aspects, again, into which I might stick my nose.

The second question, though, is less inviting for me to consider because it requires introspection (inspecting myself): what do I see in myself about the issue you have raised? What is it in your position that leads me to wonder about, question, or even oppose my own view? I think that my emotional reactions to some things is primarily a means of avoiding this second question. I can get so upset over what I see in others that I am effectively distracted from asking whether I am as right as I think I am. And I do think I am. But I have been wrong about that, too.

Before this sounds like I am asking permission to be judgmental of you, remember that I want you asking the same questions of yourself, with regard to what you see, wonder about, question, or even oppose in me. In this way, we might engage in a fellowship that is authentic, transparent, and vulnerable—even if we are not mutual followers of Jesus Christ. I hope we can continue to attempt it.

As for those who claim to be mutual followers of Jesus Christ, there is more to say about the nature of a fellowship that is authentic, transparent, and vulnerable, and the terrible cost of doing so…that is only exceeded by a decision not to do so. More later.

Your Business, and Why I Stick My Nose into It

You may have noticed from my social media involvement that I seek dialogue with those of you whose beliefs differ from mine. That is, I stick my nose into your business. I pray that I do so in a way that is respectful of your human personhood, even when I question the conclusions you reach or even the evidence you cite in support of your conclusions.

I do this for several reasons.

One reason is intellectual curiosity. I enjoy using my brain. Therefore, statements of belief especially pique my interest. Over the past half-century, I have come to some very definite conclusions (“dogmatic beliefs”) about certain things. About others, I am still weighing evidence, seeking to arrive at an actionable conclusion (i.e., I want to understand what the true, right, and good position is so that I can appropriately provide support, correction, and/or opposition to other positions on the subject). So, when I see the conclusions you share, I am provoked to thought on those issues and seek to engage in dialogue about them. I like the mental exercise of doing that.

Another reason for my attempts at dialogue is the joy of connection and understanding, which can result in amazing revelations. I am blessed, at times, to read and hear explanations of the logic, ethics, and/or morality that lead you to the position(s) you hold. Some of you have blessed me further by discussing with me the logic, ethics, and/or morality that leads me to the position(s) I hold. This helps deepen my understanding, not just of you and others, but of myself as well.

But the primary reason I engage in these discussions is my desire to live with integrity as a follower of Jesus Christ. (Yes, I said that. But I hope you read this last little part, too.)

I see in Jesus a calling to pursue fellowship. As expressed in I John 1:1-4, that fellowship centers on two relationships. First is the fellowship of a relationship with God through Christ, which is enhanced by the second fellowship in our relationships as the “one another” of “Christ’s body,” the Church. But there is a third fellowship, too. The universal claim of Jesus Christ also points Christians to a solidarity with all other human persons. This is found in His emphasis that we are all created to bear the image and likeness of one God, eternally existing in three Persons. As I explained above, that third fellowship regularly blesses me as well.

How is this a matter of integrity for me? My belief should find expression in what I say and do. Admittedly, sticking my nose into your business benefits me. It also fulfills a part of what I believe God is continuously building me to be, and part of what I believe Christ calls all His followers to do in representing Him authentically, transparently, and vulnerably. (More about that later.)

Is my integrity consistent on this point? No. Logic, ethics, and morality are often submerged under a deluge of emotion. My initial reaction to some issues (some of which you and I agree on) “hits a nerve.” I have been known to write impassioned responses for which “delete” would have been a more appropriate click than “send” or “post.” Therefore, I have some repenting to do. Especially since I’ve already kept you for 67 words more than I intended for this post. More later.