So God created man in his [own] image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them.

And God blessed them, and God said unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it: and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth.

Genesis 1:27-28

On the matter of IVF, some Christians are pitilessly cold-hearted.

There are undoubtedly serious moral questions raised by this medical miracle. Embryos are human, and I agree with the concerns Catholics and other Christians have about their destruction. IVF clinics and prospective parents should give deep thought to how they treat human embryos — embryo adoption has begun in America, that’s a great thing. Destroying embryos that might be genetically ill is also morally questionable. Raising these questions is necessary and I hope will lead to moral outcomes.

But if there are those who seriously see no difference between the miracle of IVF and the horror of the abortion industry, then I would suggest they know nothing about humanity, life or why life is sacred. There’s something cruelly legalistic (in the worst possible sense of that word) about manipulating the teachings of Jesus to reach an outcome that would deny life.

IVF clinics are bringing life to children who would not otherwise exist and they are helping to make happy loving families where before there was just barrenness and heartbreak.

There is no life in a barren womb. No life is not pro-life.

“That which I would not, that I do!”

Good medicines kill patients, good policemen and good soldiers kill innocents. Speeding ambulances kill pedestrians.

Often when we try to do good, harm comes as a side effect — people die. We walk through the valley of the shadow of death. Death is all around us, that’s why life is sacred.

That’s why doctors fight to give Granny a few hours of life. That’s why ten guilty men go free rather than we convict a single innocent one. That’s why hundreds of volunteers will search for one climber lost in the snow, why ships and helicopters scour the ocean for one lost sailor. That’s why a platoon of US Marines will go into battle to rescue one of their own, even if it means they will take greater casualties in the process!

We spend millions — the equivalent of lifetimes of work — and risk lives, for even the possibility of saving a single life, even of adding a single day to a single life.

We are moral people, that is the Lord’s work.

Replenish the earth, and subdue it

In the midst of the shadow stretching infinitely in every direction, here is this precious, fragile, little flame of life. That is why life, every moment of it, is sacred.

Bringing life to children, and children to families, is the Lord’s work. He commanded it.

And for some people, bringing life into the world is hard. The doctors counsel them not to, but they bond with every embryo, investing their hopes, praying to God to protect this tiny life. Most of the time, the embryos die — when they die, there’s blood. And the parents grieve and they weep, but they try again and again.

It’s excruciating.

But still they persist, because life is so very precious.

The quest to bring life into the world has consumed lives and fortunes. The parents learn bitterly what our ancient forbears knew, that life triumphs for but a moment and death is always at our shoulder.

And there are those Christians who would say ‘let there be no life here, it contradicts our philosophies.’

How are such cold hearts, who would deny life when it conflicts with their philosophies, any different from the utilitarians — the Peter Singers — who would destroy life when it conflicts with their philosophies? How is the philosophy that says you may not cultivate embryonic life, because the likelihood the embryo will die is high, different from the philosophy that says you must not allow a child to be born, because the likelihood it will suffer severe illness or loss of quality of life is high? Each philosophy results in life denied.

Which if us, if offered the option of ‘no life’ or ‘a chance of life’ would choose ‘no life’.

Non-disclaimer

The characters in this story are real. Where names are used they are real, too. I thought about changing them, but these events made a big difference to our lives, and but for the grace of God a little girl (or even two) might have died needlessly, There are lessons on offer to all involved, and there’s certainly no need to brush anything under the rug.

To say more would spoil the story.

Dramatis Personae

This is a story the Devil didn’t want told.

(more…)

Introducing my daughter

One of my daughters was born with Down syndrome. She is two now, but the picture above shows her when she was aged one (click for a larger look). We knew about her condition before she was born — in fact we were told a highly exaggerated story about how disabled she would be, but that’s a tale for another time.

She’s a wonderful kid, curious and cheeky in a very cute way, with a big infectious laugh and an almost outrageous enthusiasm for life that frequently bubbles over and draws in the people around her. And she has a special place in her heart for me — she’s a ‘Daddy’s girl’. Of course she loves her mother deeply (as do we all), but when she’s upset it’s me she turns to first for comfort. And when we’re out, she and I are a team.

As well as an ordinary play group, she goes to a special class once a week, with three other little children of around her age. She has a wonderful time there, she likes the other kids, and she is especially affectionate — in a surprisingly grown up and sweet way — to one particular little boy with whom she has been in class since shortly after they were born.

My wife and I, as well as her teachers, are delighted with her progress.

In the top 2% all round

In fact all the kids in the class are are doing very well. All four of them are in the top 2% of that class for this year. The other 196 kids in her class have no chance of catching up, ever. Because those 196 kids were among the 98% of babies with Down syndrome whose parents have been persuaded to allow their doctors to kill them before birth.

The centre where the classes are held caters to about 100 special needs children, and I guess they are in the top 2% too — every one of them. The approx 5000 others who would have gone there will never learn to walk, never sing songs, learn clapping games, or give their little playmates hugs and kisses.

They’ll never squeal with joy, or sob on Daddy’s shoulder.

Jesus’ commando raid

But the day of the Lord will come as a thief in the night… 2 Peter 3:10

I perfectly understand why parents-to-be feel unable to bear a disabled child, I was horrified and terrified when I found out my daughter would be intellectually disabled. I felt sadness, disgust, anger, humiliation, guilt — every selfish and stupid emotion a man can feel. I’d love to say ‘I’m not ashamed to admit’ how I felt, but the truth is I am deeply ashamed of the awful things I thought.

But in that darkness, in the darkness one night, Jesus blessed me with a single grain of sense and, contrary to all that was going on in my mind, I found myself praying to God to help me love my daughter, and that if he didn’t reject me, then to make me able to not reject her. I prayed, ‘Lord, just put the love into my heart!’

My daughter is the second of non-identical twins, and there is a lengthy tale behind her first few days in the world, involving ambulances, incubators and misleading diagnoses, but I will cover that another time. Nevertheless, much had been going on, and I had been able to maintain an emotional and physical distance from her for a long period of time. It wasn’t until several days after she was born that my wife, who could see what was happening, told me gently but firmly that it was time to stop keeping myself apart from our daughter, and suggested, ‘why don’t you bath her’.

I undressed her and there she was, pale, naked and limp like a little rag doll. I looked into her eyes, and it seemed that they were searching — searching for someone to love her. And as I recall it, perhaps a voice inside me whispered, ‘man, look at this child, she needs a mother and father to love her, can it be you?’

Then I felt something happen in my heart. Like a commando in one of those old war movies, Jesus had placed a bomb in the huge concrete dam I had built around my heart. First there was a faint rumble, then a little crack, then a trickle, then as the warm water splashed gently on my daughter’s skin, a great flood of love began pouring out.

…as I have loved you, that ye also love one another.The Gospel of St John 13:34

God has blessed me with so much love for my special little darling that my heart nearly bursts with it — and he filled her with more love for me than I ever imagined such a little vessel could hold. And out of his grace, and without needing to be asked, he blessed us with much joy and laughter too.

When we were trying to come to terms with the imminent prospect of a disabled daughter, some people told us ‘It won’t be as bad as you expect’, but for me that doesn’t begin to describe it. A better explanation would have been, ‘it’s going to be better than you could ever have imagined.’

Further reading

“Not a vegetable after all”