The punk rock Orthodox priest

The punk rock Orthodox priest

Archive: The Punk Rock Orthodox Priest

By Steve Beard

The symbolism was profoundly countercultural. When Sergei Rybko lumbered onto the stage in between rock bands at a dingy nightclub in Moscow, his appearance was sure to provoke a whiplashed double-take. Draped in a flowing black cassock and adorned with a massive gold cross, 49-year-old Rybko sports a shiny bald head and burly beard that would make the guys in ZZ Top jealous.

As he looked across the faces of the teens and twentysomethings, he flashed the peace sign—thawing the ice with the nostalgic hand gesture popularized by the disillusioned bohemians of a different era.

The heart of his message to the understandably perplexed audience was eloquent and simple. As Rybko looked around the club, he told them that they had come together on that night because, in one way or another, they were a club of lonely-hearts—similar to the “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” made famous by the Beatles. Under the roof of the club, their hearts are united by the music; but once they leave the range of the deafening decibels, they will be all alone.

“You don’t have to be alone,” he reminds them. “If you reach out to God, you will never be alone.” With a slight bow and another flash of the peace sign, Rybko leaves the stage to the applause of the crowd.

As you might have surmised, Rybko is a Russian Orthodox priest and his unique ministry was recently profiled on ABC News.

Rybko tends to the normal priestly duties of his parish by day, and ventures into the underbelly of Moscow’s rock subculture at night—a mission that was given to him by the late Patriarch Aleksei II, leader of the Russian Orthodox Church who died last December.

Back at the club, a young rocker makes his way over to Rybko. “I wanted to say a big thank you for coming and for his support,” he told ABC correspondent Alexander Marquardt. “I had some questions I didn’t know who to talk to about, so I asked him and explained everything to me.”

Rybko’s expectations are modest. “At least they didn’t throw anything,” he says afterwards. “My job is to sow, it is up to God to cultivate,” he says. “If what I say changes someone, if it makes someone purer, closer to God, then that’s a successful evening.” Quite simply he believes that if the punkers and metalheads won’t come to church, the church should go to them.

In many ways, Rybko is the perfect candidate to reach out to a wayward flock. Before becoming a wandering hippy when he was young, he played in a rock band and led a small group of anarchists in rebellion against oppressive and rigid Soviet communism. “I used to be a rocker and I will always be one,” he reports. “For the average person behind the Iron Curtain, it represented the only truth that you could listen to.”

Those outside the walls of the sanctuary may not be interested in our internal church battles, but they are intrigued by truth—eternal truth that speaks to the heart, mind, and soul.

When Rybko first got involved in the church, he was a bell ringer. He took the opportunity to mix Pink Floyd and Led Zeppelin songs along with the traditional Orthodox bell ringing. According to Rybko, the old ladies in the congregation actually liked the convergence of rock and ritual.

Twenty-one years ago, Rybko was ordained as a priest. Today, he attempts to live out his faith before those inside the sanctuary and those moshing at the rock clubs. “My job as a priest is to bring the life of Christ to the darkest basements,” he says. “In the club, I talk to people who are far away from God…. If I open the Bible [in the clubs] and start to talk like a priest, they will all run away. So I have to use their language but make sure they understand that a priest is speaking to them and that Christianity will solve their problems.”

I have a soft spot in my heart for Rybko’s outreach. When I was a teenager, I used to hang out at a notorious punk rock club called the Cuckoo’s Nest in Orange County, California. Despite having grown up in the church, it ended up being a group of mohawked and tattooed rockers that helped me to embrace my faith.

What really stuck out in the Rybko story was that in addition to hanging out at the clubs, he also opens up a small building behind the sanctuary to bands that need a place to rehearse. Amongst the instruments, amps, and graffiti, there is a large cross on the ceiling and icons of Jesus and the saints displayed on the walls.

As he is getting older, Rybko admits that he usually feels more comfortable preaching in church than hanging out at concerts and clubs. “Thirty years ago that would have been my home,” he says. “Now I feel more at home in church, that is closer to me. But it is my duty to go to the clubs. If I don’t, who will?”
Great question. God bless Sergei Rybko.

Steve Beard is the editor of Good News.

The punk rock Orthodox priest

Letters to the editor

Archive: Letters to the editor

Oddly uncharacteristic

I was recently in a Sunday school class (not Methodist) where the notion of predestination was presented as absolute biblical fact. As someone who is passionate about overseas missions, I obviously don’t cotton too well to the idea that our salvation was decided even before our birth.

So, I was so glad to read Professor Longden’s article, “Wesley and Predestination” (May/June 2009). This idea of predestination seems oddly uncharacteristic for the God who loved us enough to send Jesus, the God who loved us enough to weave his entire story throughout centuries of the Bible, the God who urged us to choose life, not death.

Blessings and again, thank you, Good News and Professor Longden.

Claudia Stayton
New Braunfels, Texas

Misrepresenting the UM Church

I am writing in response to an article in the September/October 2009 issue. The article, “Evangelicals respond to Mississippi controversy,” by Steve Beard really upsets me. When will you realize the slogan we have of “Open Hearts, Open Minds, Open Doors”? I do know exactly what the Discipline states about homosexuality, however, we are a denomination that accepts all persons so that we may lead them to the Kingdom of God.

Your magazine misrepresents the UM Church and in particular this article. We may not agree with two women who are partners, however it is the ministry of the UM Church to accept all persons and to bring them the love of God through Jesus Christ.

In fact, Jesus never refused anyone. Jesus confronted persons but they ultimately made the decision not to follow Him nor accept the grace of God. We are not to judge anyone but in fact we are to accept everyone so we may expose them to Jesus Christ. I firmly believe that when we present Jesus to all people, it is Jesus then who makes the change in all of us sinners.

Homosexuality is but one sin of many that we encounter in ministry. It is my responsibility to preach, live and extend the love of God through Jesus Christ to everyone who enters into the church. It matters not their lifestyle, place of origin, persons of color, ethnic background, rich or poor, or any other item of concern. What matters is their heart.

I think it is about time that Good News and the evangelical movement begin to live the life they so proclaim to possess. It is God who is the final judge. When anyone refuses to show and share the love of God they will be judged accordingly.

Keith A. Michaels
First United Methodist Church
Carlyle, Illinois

The General Rules

Even before General Conference 2008, a men’s study in which I participate agreed to study The General Rules (“A closer look at Three Simple Rules,” by Les Longden, September/October 2009). We chose to use Kevin Watson’s A Blueprint for Discipleship: Wesley’s General Rules As a Guide for Christian Living (Discipleship Resources). My pastor also gave me a copy of Bishop Job’s book. I read both and would recommend Watson’s book for anyone who wants a serious approach to the standards of these simple rules and the accountability they are intended to engender.

Rich Jenkins
San Antonio, Texas

The punk rock Orthodox priest

Book Review of Wesley: A Guide for the Perplexed

Archive: Perplexed by Wesley

By Andrew D. Kinsey

“What makes John Wesley so perplexing?” That opening question sets the stage for Jason Vickers’ stimulating new book, Wesley: A Guide for the Perplexed (Continuum). Associate Professor of Theology and Wesley Studies at United Theological Seminary in Dayton, Vickers points to three perplexities.

First, despite Wesley’s insistence to preach “plain truth for plain people,” interpreters over the years have argued otherwise. For example, though Wesley said he would not leave the Church of England, many scholars believe that his actions pointed toward establishing a new movement, if not denomination; and though Wesley said he was a “High Church Tory” in a confessional state, several recent interpreters maintain that he was really a proto-liberal democrat all along. Inconsistencies, as well as suspicions, persist.

Second, scholars disagree about Wesley’s interactions with the age in which he lived, seeing him either as a reactionary who sought a “primitive” Christianity with miracles and demons to boot, or a thorough-going progressive adapting the faith to modern trends. Both perspectives buy into a common secularization theory regarding eighteenth century English society; however, as Vickers notes, both also fail to see the nuances and complexity of the age.

Third, we fail to recognize the unity in Wesley’s theological, ecclesiastical, and political commitments. Here, scholars have difficulty with what they see as Wesley’s democratic impulse on the one hand and his hierarchical style of leadership on the other. Indeed, as Vickers states, Wesley was quick to say that Methodists were “no republicans and never intended to be.” In fact, often overlooked in this debate are Wesley’s skills in maneuvering Methodists between competing political loyalties and philosophies. It is difficult to know, for instance, given our own democratic proclivities, what to do with Wesley’s statement “mark the man who talks of loving the Church, and does not love the King.” Similarly, it is also difficult to know how to interpret his commitment to the monarchy with his view of unlimited atonement; that is, “the people have no role,” but “salvation is for all people.” Coherency in Wesley studies has been difficult to find.

Enter Vickers’ case for the unity of Wesley’s ecclesiastical, political, and theological thought. Vickers navigates the terrain of eighteenth century England, depicting Wesley as a man of the Church of England and a monarchical constitutionalist. Again, while nothing new, it supplies a helpful review.

Vickers emphasizes how Wesley was a man of his times—pointing out that Wesley out of context only leads to more inconsistencies, while reading more into Wesley fails as well. Vickers’ key here is the Anglican stabilization thesis as a way beyond the perplexity: as an Anglican priest and supporter of the crown, Wesley exhibited a keen awareness of the need for the stability of a confessional church and state. By placing the Trinity and sacraments at the center of the Christian life, Wesley not only sought to renew the church but also to cultivate stability beyond it. Therefore, Wesley’s political theology combines the essentials of orthodoxy with the spirit of generosity, maintaining both church and state on the one hand while allowing room for toleration on the non-essentials on the other, avoiding extremes on all sides. A thread of consistency begins to appear.

But the thread is woven tightly. Here, Vickers picks up Theodore Weber’s latest work with respect to Wesley’s theological politics of a confessional state: Wesley’s High Church Anglicanism supports his Tory inclinations. Pointing out inconsistencies in Wesley’s political theology, Weber notes how Wesley’s hierarchical vision of God does not cohere with his understanding of constitutionalism; that is, if Wesley affirms that God is ultimately bestowing authority from above through the King, how can he also affirm authority from below through the people? If God has provided the benefits of salvation to all, how can only a few have rule?

What makes for consistency in Wesley’s thought? The answer is covenantal Arminianism—the view that God intends salvation for all, but that through Christ’s covenant on the cross, repentance and obedience are also necessary; for without obedience there is no real faith, and without faith the universal scope of salvation goes unrealized. Therefore, as Vickers states, a strong compatibility exists between Wesley’s view of the atonement and his constitutional monarchianism: “Just as the constitution restricts the absolute power of the King, so the atoning blood of Christ constrains the absolute power of God. Moreover, because the constitution precedes the birth of English subjects, the rights and liberties that it grants can in no way be thought of as deserved. Similarly, because the covenant of grace precedes the birth of all people, its benefits are a matter of sheer generosity. In both cases, the appropriate response is gratitude and joyful obedience.” Covenant, church, and constitution are all matters of divine gratuity, offering forms of grace before our faithful response.

What are the benefits of reading Wesley in this way? The first is honesty. Wesley resists easy conformity to the whims of our age. Dealing with Wesley on his own terms is a first step toward understanding his gifts and limitations for the church’s renewal. Hijacking Wesley for narrow theological and political purposes is a non-starter. The many portraits of Wesley, while illuminating, must be kept in balance, whether dealing with Albert C. Outler’s “folk theologian,” Henry D. Rack’s “reasonable enthusiast,” or Howard A. Synder’s “radical renewalist,” to name a few. Wesley resists historical conformity. The same goes for applying other frames of reference to Wesley as well; e.g., viewing him either as a proponent of “process theology” or as a proto-liberal of democracy. Vickers’ book helps in this regard.

Second is the link between covenantal Arminianism and divine providence. As spiritual director and evangelist, Wesley was able to discern God’s hand in the church and world; the Spirit was being poured out on all flesh. And yet, seeing God’s hand in all things, including Wesley’s theological, ecclesiastical, and political commitments, lends credence to the argument as to why Wesley stayed in the Church of England and yet led the Methodists: he realized that leaving either would be tantamount to turning against God.

At the core of Wesley’s faith was a robust vision of God’s grace, being realized in faithful obedience. It’s a vision that resonates today.

Vickers states in the introduction that his volume is intended for a broad academic audience, especially students of church history, theology, and politics. Fair enough, but it would be too limited. Wesley: A Guide for the Perplexed needs thoughtful reading among leaders in the church; that is, it needs the kind of reception that will rekindle our imaginations, reminding us all that what ties the various pieces of Wesley together (as well as ourselves) is God’s transforming grace, and that such pieces, while often in tension, do not have to be so perplexing.

Andrew D. Kinsey is co-pastor of Grace United Methodist Church in Franklin, Indiana. He is an ordained elder of the South Indiana Annual Conference.

The punk rock Orthodox priest

Dancing in the furnace

Archive: Dancing in the Furnace

By B.J. Funk

When my children were younger, I received a few of those “Everything is perfect in our world” Christmas letters from well-meaning friends. I was happy for them. It’s just that their good news made me even more conscious that I had the opposite. My boys and I were struggling to get from one day to the next with some semblance of sanity. If one day ended and we had moved a step forward, we felt more confident that the next day might possibly bring another step, or at least a half a step. That would be the best Christmas for us. How was I supposed to write in our Christmas letter, “The boys are doing great, excelling in every area,” when in fact their lives were buried under a steady stream of tears from their daddy’s absence?

Those were dark days. Nothing hurts a mother more than seeing her children cry because they felt abandoned. As the three of us pushed forward to make it “in spite of,” I found myself in a precarious spot, my first introduction to the furnace of affliction. It was much too warm. I began to notice heat around my heart, where at times the flame was so intense I could not get out of bed in the morning. As the searing increased, the heat moved into other organs. My senses felt intense burning as my eyesight became first impaired, and then suddenly clearer than ever. My hearing changed too. Sounds I used to love faded as the flames burned away anything contrary to the fire’s purpose. Daily, I felt the inferno’s injustice moving like a searchlight into my soul. I didn’t always like what I saw; however, the fire was unrelenting. Eventually, a fire with no mercy at all moved into my slumbering soul and stirred a fresh pot of new mercy, a bubbling cool pool whose contents spilled all over me.

I watched as old habits of thinking melted in the heat’s darkness. Priorities shifted. It didn’t matter so much that I kept my house spotless; now, I wanted more than ever to keep my life spotless. I picked up the Bible and could not put it down. With the intensity of a hot branding iron, words of life were emblazoned on my heart. After months of this, I came out of the furnace a new person, flicking off the smoldering ashes, and praising God for the heat that causes change. I would not have gone back to the way I was for anything. I liked the new and growing me. I loved my new hunger for God’s Word. The furnace did all that. Romans 8:28 was true: God does use all things together for good for those who love him and are called according to his purposes.

Back to my Christmas letter. How could I write the truth, which included one of my sons failing two grades and finally dropping out of school? Somehow, it didn’t seem right to lie at Christmas. So, my Christmas letter flowed in senseless generalities: We got a new puppy. It snowed. My youngest likes music. No great accolades. But, at least truthful.

Later, I discovered in the Bible exactly what had happened to me. I had been in the Refiner’s Fire. “Behold, I will refine thee, but not with silver; I have chosen thee in the furnace of affliction” (Isaiah 48:10).

That was a long time ago. I am still flicking off the ashes. Every now and then, God dips me back in that same furnace of purification. The book of James tells me to thank God for this new trial because he is using it to bring me deeper unto him. A dear Christian friend whose 20-year-old son died in an automobile accident pointed out, “We can still dance, even in the furnace.”

Those who have danced in the fire are those who know that the furnace will bring out their ultimate best for the kingdom of God. The purpose of the refining fire is so that the Master will see his image reflected on our purified silver lives.

King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon put three Israelites in the furnace because they refused to bow down to false gods. When he looked inside, the king saw a fourth person, looking like a god, and the others were unharmed. He ordered them out, promoting the three and forbidding anyone in his kingdom to say anything against the Israelite’s God.

After that first furnace, I stopped comparing my Christmas letters to others. I simply was thankful that God walked into the furnace with me. I saw my ashes as a treasure to his faithfulness. His desire was to bring me to a higher life within him.

Have you been flicking off any ashes lately? The book of James would say, “Count it all joy!” My friend would say, “Dance, even there.”

B. J. Funk is Associate Pastor of Central United Methodist Church in Fitzgerald, Georgia. She is the author of The Dance of Life: Invitation to a Father Daughter Dance, a regular contributor to the South Georgia Advocate, and a frequent speaker at women’s retreats. She can be reached at bjfunk@bellsouth.net.

The punk rock Orthodox priest

Rediscovering your Bible

Archive: Rediscovering Your Bible

By Steve Harper

It happens to all of us sooner or later. Our enthusiasm for Scripture declines. We begin approaching our time of Bible reading more as a duty than a delight. We come to a familiar passage and feel like skipping over it because “we know what it says.” If we are ministers, Sunday school teachers, or Bible study leaders, we may experience this in the feeling that we’re using the Bible as a place to “find” an idea or an outline. All of us come to the time when we need to recover the joy and meaning of searching the Scriptures.

We can be thankful we have somewhere to turn when we experience times like this. Our predecessors in the faith have left us a precious legacy called lectio divina. In English it goes by various terms: sacred reading, formative reading, and devotional reading, to name a few. It is a process of mining Scripture (or any other text, for that matter) in a way that allows God to speak to you through it. It is a process that has helped untold numbers of Christians to personalize their reading of Scripture, the devotional classics, etc. It is one way many have used to find the Word of God again.

The term lectio divina may seem quite new to you, but I expect you have already engaged in a form of it, even without knowing it. Take your Bible in your hands and open it. If you have ever underlined a passage, or otherwise marked it, you have experienced a type of sacred reading. There have been times in the past when a portion of a passage has really “spoken” to you. That is a kind of lectio divina. It is what my colleague, Dr. Robert Mulholland, professor of New Testament at Asbury Theological Seminary, calls being “shaped by the Word.” It is something that can happen to all of us, and it is something each of us can enrich and improve.

In this brief article, I want to do two things. First, I want to give you an overview of the sacred reading process so you can begin using it. Second, I want to conclude with some of the benefits I’ve personally received as a result of practicing lectio divina in my own reading of the Bible.

In describing the process, let’s keep the goal clearly in mind. The purpose of lectio divina is to enable us to encounter the Word of God through the reading of God’s Word. It is our goal to attune ourselves, so that as we read we may hear and respond to the particular message God has for us in this moment. We want to come away from our times of Bible reading able to say, “I have met the living God.” To be sure, no methodology is foolproof; nothing works every time. But I do believe that formative reading is a practice that will enable this contact with God to be your experience much of the time. So, with that goal clearly in mind, what are the steps of the process?

Prayer. We begin with prayer. The ancients called this the Prayer for Illumination. Today, we might pray it like this: “Lord, I am grateful for this opportunity to read and reflect on your Holy Word. I ask you to prepare my mind and my heart so that I can hear what you want to say to me. Come, Holy Spirit, and inspire my reading, even as you originally inspired the writer. I ask it in Jesus’ name, amen.”

Such praying is an opening to God. It is our recognition that we are not “in control” of the text. Rather, we want it to “control” us. We are not trying to
master anything; we are seeking to be mastered by God’s Word. We have become accustomed to reading for information, to pass a test, or acquire additional knowledge. In lectio divina, we are reading in order to meet the living God. Information and knowledge may or may not be involved; encounter is the key. The act of reading may fill our minds or warm our hearts (or both). We do not care; we only pray, “Come, Lord Jesus!” Prayer is the first action in lectio divina. Indeed, it is the action that saturates the whole process.

Reading. The second step is reading. We enter the text itself, absorbing it in the hope of discovering what God has to say to us. For one thing, we read slowly; lectio divina has no set amount in mind. We are seeking to be deep, not broad. We are going for quality, not quantity. We may read three chapters or three lines. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that we read slowly enough to sense when and where we need to stop, look, and listen. And whenever we sense that halt, we pause and dig in right there. It may be a word that captures our attention. It may be an idea that speaks to something going on in our lives. It may be a promise we need to claim or an instruction we need to follow. Whatever it is, we stop where we are, accept it as God’s message for us, and allow it to penetrate our lives.

Our slower reading is accompanied by a systematic approach. To be sure, we can skip around and still use the sacred reading process. But ideally, we read systematically and sequentially. We do this because we believe the Holy Spirit inspired the original author to write with a certain progression. We believe we shall encounter God more authentically in the text if we follow the same progression of inspiration. So, the second step is reading, slowly and systematically, in order to hear and respond to God.

Meditation. The third step is meditation. That word has unfortunately taken on negative connotations in our day. But it merely means that we “walk around” the idea that has seized us in our reading. Hugh of St. Victor described meditation as “piercing the core of a particular truth.” In the reading step, we have latched onto a particular truth. In the meditation step, we seek to pierce that truth and be shaped by it.

Here is where we can bring any and all skills we have to the passage. If we know Greek or Hebrew, we can do full-fledged exegesis. If we have learned inductive study skills, we can apply that methodology to our “particular truth.” If we have a chain-reference system, we can trace the idea through the Bible. We can use our concordances, commentaries, maps, cross references, etc. We can use anything and everything that enables us to derive more meaning and inspiration from the passage on which we are focusing. Meditation is the step in which we probe, explore, research, compare and contrast, illustrate, and otherwise walk around the text, seeing and hearing as much as we can.

Contemplation. The fourth step is contemplation. This is the step in which we personalize and own the text. In the phase of meditation, for example, we may have found out what six Bible scholars think about the passage. In contemplation, we now determine what we think about it. We appreciate what we have learned in the meditation stage; now, in contemplation we integrate all the “words” into that personal “word” for ourselves. To illustrate, in contemplation we come to the place where we receive John 3:16 as “ours,” as it was John’s when he first wrote it down. Needless to say, contemplation is a holy moment and a precious privilege.

Application. The fifth and final step is application. What else could it be? We have prayed for God to speak. We have read in a way that enabled us to select a meaningful portion of Scripture to focus upon. We have meditated by using every means at our disposal to ruminate on that portion. And we have prayerfully and sincerely sought to make that text our own, to integrate its message and inspiration into our lives.

Now, in application, we seek to allow the power of that Holy Word to flow through us for the sake of others. We end our sacred reading realizing that “to whom much is given, much is required.” In the first steps, God has blessed us. In application, God is challenging us to become a blessing to others. That blessing may flow out in our words, in our deeds or in both. But in the step of application we are now praying, “Where, when, and how would you want me to live out your Word, O God?”

Do you see what we’ve done? A little while ago, we approached the Holy Bible with no idea of what God might want to say to us. Through the process of lectio divina, we not only have received a word from the Lord, we also have received our marching orders for putting it into practice. The Bible comes alive as the written Word of God becomes the living Word within us and through us.

I do not mean to suggest that this always happens. There are days when even sacred reading seems dull and uninspiring. But I have come to see that this approach to the Bible (and other literature as well) is a precious means of receiving and responding to God. Lectio divina is one way of actualizing the prayer, “Speak, Lord, your servant is listening.” It has been a way for many to find the Word of God again when it has become somewhat dull and routine.

At the beginning of the article, I promised to share some of the blessings I’ve received by using this process. As I have moved along, I’m sure you’ve picked up some of them in the way I’ve described the method itself. Sacred reading has made prayer and study all one fabric. It has freed me from the obsession to read a certain amount whether I get anything out of it or not. It has given me a deepening appreciation for the way each book of the Bible unfolds and progresses.

It has enabled me to utilize many other tools in gleaning truth from the Scripture. And it has challenged me to validate the intention of Bible reading in the first place; that is, to live the message.

In addition to these important things, I would add some others. Sacred reading has increased my sense of intimacy with God. It has enabled me to see that I do not have to wait until some expert tells me what the Bible says. It has given me a sense of anticipation for sharing what I am learning with others, both as a check and balance and also as the basis for fruitful discussion. Lectio divina has enriched my sense of communion with the saints, in that I realize I am using a method which Christians have used for centuries.

Ever find yourself going through a time when you need a boost in your use of the Bible? Try lectio divina. Plug into the process of sacred reading. I predict you’ll be pleasantly surprised at what you discover. I predict you’ll be grateful that God indeed speaks when we use this method to listen. God bless you in the quest!

Steve Harper is Professor of Spiritual Formation and Wesley Studies at the Florida-Dunnam campus of Asbury Theological Seminary in Orlando. He was the founding director of The Pathways Initiative, a ministry of The Upper Room to spiritual leaders. He has authored 12 books and co-authored six others. His latest book is Talking in the Dark: Praying When Life Doesn’t Make Sense. This article originally appeared in the Asbury Herald and is reprinted by permission.

The punk rock Orthodox priest

Health care and the most vulnerable

Archive: Health care and the most vulnerable

By Rob Renfroe

If you own a television, listen to the radio, or read the newspaper, it’s nearly impossible to not get caught up in the intense debate regarding health care. Few issues regarding public policy have created such emotion and passion. And rightly so—health care literally concerns matters of life and death.

Recently, Jim Winkler, the General Secretary of our United Methodist General Board of Church and Society, weighed in on the subject in an editorial titled “Congregational Malpractice.” His jumping off point was the statement: “The fundamental test of our society is how it treats the least powerful among us.” I don’t disagree. Our Lord had a particular concern for the least and the last and the looked-over; we should, as well.

Who in our society are the least powerful and the most vulnerable? It’s an easy answer. There is no group in this country as powerless or at such great risk as are the unborn. Once conceived, there is a one in five chance that a fetus’ existence will be terminated by an abortion.

One in five. Persons playing Russian roulette have a greater chance of surviving than do our nation’s unborn. No other group is at such risk of not surviving the next nine months—not the poor, not cancer patients, not those suffering with AIDS. Not even those who are without health insurance. And no other group is as incapable of speaking for itself or protecting its rights.

What makes Mr. Winkler’s statement so curious and sad is that the Board of Church and Society is one of two official United Methodist bodies that are “member organizations” of the Religious Coalition for Reproductive Choice (RCRC). The other is the Women’s Division of the General Board of Global Ministries.

The RCRC describes itself as “pro-choice,” not pro-abortion. However, it supports abortion not just when the mother’s life is in peril. It supports abortion for any reason and at any time, including late-term and partial-birth abortions.

Our Book of Discipline states: “We cannot affirm abortion as an acceptable means of birth control, and we unconditionally reject it as a means of gender selection.” At the 2000 General Conference, United Methodism voted overwhelmingly to oppose partial-birth abortion by a vote of 622-275.

For too many years now, official bodies within our denomination, supported by our apportionments, have allied themselves with political extremists. The Religious Coalition for Reproductive Choice (RCRC) has lobbied for issues such as taxpayer-funded abortions and partial-birth abortions. United Methodist boards and agencies should do nothing that even appears to be supportive of that organization.

Within our American society, there are many views as to when human life begins. But can’t we as people of faith who believe that life is sacred agree to err on the side of caution? Can’t we agree that we should neither support nor be affiliated with organizations that want no restrictions whatsoever upon terminating the existence of the most vulnerable among us?

To those who plead ignorance about the beginning of life, I ask, “Why use your claimed ignorance as permission to perpetuate what could be (and I believe is) a great evil upon the most vulnerable in our society? Where you are uncertain, shouldn’t you be most careful, not most reckless?”

“Destruction of the embryo in the mother’s womb is a violation of the right to live which God has bestowed upon this nascent life,” writes German pastor and theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer in his notable book Ethics.

In his editorial, Mr. Winkler concludes with this statement: “Any congregation that doesn’t seek health care for all of the uninsured should be sued for malpractice!” I wonder what a general board of the United Methodist Church is guilty of when it calls us to care about the most vulnerable, and at the same time partners with an organization that believes the termination of the most defenseless among us should be legal anytime, anywhere for any reason?

Renewing the United Methodist Church is not just about theology. It’s about bringing our boards and agencies to the point that they reflect what most United Methodists believe. Obviously, we still have a long way to go when those who claim to represent us and spend our apportionment dollars are willing to play Russian roulette with human life.

Rob Renfroe is the President and Publisher of Good News