Readers of the OUTLOOK are familiar with the heated public controversy over the use of human embryos to harvest stem cells for medical research. What are called embryos are actually ova fertilized in a Petri dish. The zygotes are forced to undergo cell division, frozen and stored on a shelf for possible use later, usually for fertility treatment-- but never implanted in a human uterus. For that reason they are not really embryos, technically speaking. The point of interest is that they are currently the best source of "pluripotent stem cells," meaning cells that have the capacity to become any type of cell in the body when properly treated. These cells are needed to develop effective treatments for diseases that already include Alzheimer's, Parkinson's, juvenile diabetes, muscular dystrophy, and paralysis resulting from spinal cord injury.
The sticking point for those who object, including President George W. Bush, is that they believe these fertilized eggs possess the value of human beings and the process of extracting stem cells from them kills human life. Many scientists, on the other hand, have a hard time imagining how a still undifferentiated zygote that will never be implanted in a uterus qualifies as a human being. An estimated 400,000 fertilized ova or embryos are stored in U.S. freezers today, and most of them will be discarded.
Stem cell research is rapidly advancing in many other countries, notably the United Kingdom and South Korea, and in private U.S. labs that do not receive federal funding. Ironically, one of the effects of the Bush administration's ban on embryonic stem cell research funding is that the research is now barreling on outside the ethical guidelines established early in the game by the National Institutes of Health and approved by the Clinton administration. Those guidelines made it clear that only embryos could be used that were created for the purpose of fertility treatment and were in excess of clinical need. When stem cell research is removed from NIH oversight into the private sector, such ethical restrictions are not obligatory.
Is it time for a survey of the language of Presbyterian Christian Education?
I appreciate the conversation begun by Ben Sparks and pursued by Marge Shaw about the need to rediscover Christian education in our churches. It is not the first time in recent years that someone has asked, "Where has our denomination's historic emphasis on Christian education gone?"
As I look and listen for signs of a vital commitment to Christian education in our churches and the larger church, I am engaging in some interesting conversations. People in our churches and in the church are excited about a number of initiatives that sound a lot like Christian education to me, but when I ask about the difference, I am assured that they are talking about "more than Christian education." So what is going on here? What may be going on is that rather than losing our commitment to Christian education, we are now talking about it in different ways.
Sixty years ago in the blink of an eye an estimated 147,000 people were killed when atom bombs exploded over Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Japan. Beautiful cities were instantly turned into radioactive wastelands.
As is true in all wars most of the victims were women, children and the elderly. Those near the epicenter were the lucky ones. They were vaporized. Tens of thousands further from ground zero were burned alive, dying in excruciating pain and begging for water. Thousands more died in later months and years of a strange disease called radiation, and even today higher rates of cancer and leukemia prevail in the region. Survivors of the blasts, now in their seventies and eighties, carry monumental physical and psychological scars.
This August, on a peace pilgrimage, I returned to Japan, where I spent nine years (1965-1974) as a missionary. I attended the 60th anniversaries of two bombs that in the words of Einstein "... changed everything except the way we think, and we drift toward unparalleled catastrophes."
Visiting in an unfamiliar church is always interesting. I read over the bulletin in order to see how the service would flow. One word appeared repeatedly-- love; not a bad concept if a single theme was in order.
There was no doubt that these people liked the idea that God was love, that Christ was all about love, that the Holy Spirit brought love, and that love was pretty much the key to how things were supposed to get done. I took out my pen and circled the word wherever it appeared. It was probably the first time that "love" had been documented in that church.
What was missing? Well, holiness. I thought a little further. There is something to be said about the fear of the Lord in Scripture but it did not appear here. And it would have been unspeakable in that context to wonder about the wrath of God. Even the color of the walls and creature comforts in the fittings seemed designed to assure worshipers that all was well. The hymns did not distract from the message either. One was even about "partnership," a concept that had gone unnoticed by me in the history of Christian thought.
The Prayer of Confession held no problems. Its components slid through the mind with a minimum of friction. The major worry seemed to be insensitivity, and I am the first to agree that could be a problem. I gathered that I was to report in that I had not responded in love as I could have, a sort of callousness of the soul. And, my goodness, I did not want that to be the case. I mea culpa-ed my way through the environmental crisis and war and peace and felt a lot better for it.
Then I recapped my pen and thought it over. I had come to worship the Almighty in a Presbyterian setting, and I had found myself stuck in a liturgical boutique. There was plenty to buy, as long as you were looking for happy things and a chance to see that everyone had uplift. A kind of emotional branding had occurred, and I had not even recognized it.
I returned home feeling that my diet called for more basic stuff. Among other places that I searched, I settled on Psalm 119.
G.K. Chesterton believed that a little comic relief in a discussion or debate did no harm, no matter how serious the topic. In his own experience, the funniest things occurred during serious conversations and debates. It was little different with your own distinguished scientist, thinker and diplomat Benjamin Franklin. He was so renowned for delivering comic insights into serious matters that some believe the reason Thomas Jefferson rather than Franklin was asked to write the final draft of the Declaration of Independence was that some of the Founding Fathers suspected Franklin might include a touch of humour in this extremely serious document!
Lord Mackay, the Queen's representative to this year's General Assembly, was Scotland's former Lord Advocate. He later served as Lord Chancellor in John Major's government. Lord Mackay is in the Chesterton/Franklin mould. He has a brilliant mind and a mischievous sense of humour. He began his address to the Assembly by recalling how he had been present in the Assembly Hall in 1994 when I had been in the chair. "In his address to the Assembly that year," he said, "Dr Simpson recounted how his predecessor as Moderator had written an article making certain comments relating to the Virgin Birth. The article had evoked a large amount of correspondence. Dr Simpson then added that the most telling comment made to him about this theological controversy was also the shortest. 'I wish you Moderators would stick to politics!'" Lord Mackay went on to say, "While influencing public policy is part of the mission of the church, it is clear that her mission encompasses a great deal more than that." He recalled how at the coronation of the Queen, the Archbishop of Canterbury had said to Her Majesty, "To keep your Majesty ever mindful of the law and the Gospel of God as the rule for the whole life and government of Christian princes, we present you with this book, the most valuable thing that the world affords." The Church of Scotland Moderator then presented the Queen with a Bible, saying, "Here is wisdom; this is the Royal law; these are the lively oracles of God." The Bible was then placed reverently on the altar.
"Mission-Mission-Mission." I've said it hundreds of times as I go around the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), but until churches really get into it themselves, it's just words.
Once I visited a presbytery in Mississippi. Presbyterians there had just completed a mission trip to Mexico. Several of them rose and gave detailed reports of helping with construction, Bible school, and other projects. A young teenager was the last one to speak. He rose and quickly and simply said, "I found out while on this trip that Americans have too much stuff," and he sat down.
It was one of the best mission talks I ever heard.
If all Presbyterians could realize how fortunate and blessed we are compared to the rest of the world, it would change lives and priorities.
I grew up at the New Wilmington Missionary Conference. I came first at age two months; family members were commissioned as missionaries there. My husband and I first met as thirteen-year-olds at--where else--New Wilmington. As a missions volunteer in Ethiopia in 1971, I wept realizing I was missing the conference--the only one I have missed. Our four children were "Conference Kids" and then high school delegates at NWMC.
But years have passed. I am no longer a Western Pennsylvania teenager. I wouldn't label myself an evangelical conservative. Now I have grown up, I am old. And wise. I am smarter, much more savvy theologically, sophisticated. I have been to seminary. I believe there is a God, but all of this evangelical language about Jesus and your call, and what the Lord did this week is annoying. I am tired of the easy answers to the big questions. I am tired of inadequate or pompous answers given by individual people pretending to be God Himself talking. Cynical might be a good word for my mood.
Yeah, I'm cynical.
But here I am back at Conference and Conference starts to work its power on me. It happens every year.
Presbyterians, beware the Ides of September.
All right, technically the Ides of September falls on the 13th and I'm referring to the 15th. People from many sectors of the PC(USA) are waiting expectantly for that date, for the release of the report of the Theological Task Force on the Peace, Unity, and Purity of the church. The Presbyterian Outlook recently featured an editorial as well as several articles and letters on this topic:
Common Ground: Task Force, small groups seeking way forward for PC(USA)
Common Ground: Montreat meeting focuses Columbia Grads on future
September 15 (editorial, May 30 2005 issue)
Letters to the Editor response to 'September 15'.
Some groups like More Light Presbyterians have elected not to wait but to act peremptorily: https://www.mlp.org/resources/overturefaq.html . Many presbyteries have already begun softening the church in anticipation. I find I am a bit more inclined to proceed with extreme caution.
Last spring, Moderator Rick Ufford-Chase made an extended visit to the Democratic Republic of Congo to visit the churches and peoples of the two Presbyterian partner denominations of the PC(USA). As he traveled, he kept a running journal of his experiences and observations …
"The mystery of peace is located in the nature and quality of relationship developed with those most feared."
-- John Paul Lederach
The Moral Imagination
Conversations between Christians with diverse theologies and political circumstance have never been easy. Last year, for example, the Southern Baptist Convention decided to quit the Baptist World Alliance because its theologies were "too liberal" and its criticisms of the United States too many.
A different crisis of ecumenical relations occurred last October in the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). With help from its world mission headquarters in Louisville and the participation of its Advisory Committee on Social Witness Policy, it sent a fact-finding delegation to the Middle East. Among other local hosts in visits to six countries were the Middle East Council of Churches and the Synod of Lebanon, Syria. Leaders of the latter asked the delegation to undertake a conversation with representatives of the militant Muslim group Hezbollah. Back in Louisville, denominational executives had advised "caution" about having such a meeting, but they never forbade the delegation to undertake it. The upshot of the event was the firing of two General Assembly staff members for incompetence in permitting that meeting to take place and for failing to protect the church against negative media publicity.
As a longtime student of the ethics of forgiveness and repentance, I have had to ponder the complexity of Jesus' word to disciples that they are to "love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you" (Matthew 5:44). That word applies as much to conflicts inside the church as outside. As a Presbyterian, I am proud of its ecumenical and social justice traditions; and I believe that this internal denominational controversy needs to be judged against the background of twentieth century ecumenical history. Many issues in the incident transcend this one denomination.
“The mystery of peace is located in the nature and quality of relationship developed with those most feared.”
— John Paul Lederach
The Moral Imagination
Conversations between Christians with diverse theologies and political circumstance have never been easy.
With so many others across the church, I am waiting with curiosity and hope for the report of the Theological Task Force..
The goal of the Theological Task Force on Peace, Unity, and Purity of the Church is to "lead the PCUSA in spiritual..
When the Rev. Mark D. Roberts started his blog, he envisioned a small outreach to his community and parishioners at Irvine Presbyterian Church in Irvine, Calif.
A little more than a year later, the blog reaches far beyond that, drawing 1,500 visitors daily -- 2,000 on weekends.
"I have readers literally all over the world," says Roberts, pastor to a 750- member congregation. His review of Mel Gibson's "The Passion of the Christ" has drawn more than 25,000 visitors since the film's release, and it continues to draw readers by the hundreds.
It is but one small example of the growing reach of Christian bloggers going online to evangelize, mobilize and occasionally demonize. They marvel at the way blogs give them an opportunity to engage with a lively and diverse audience they could never attract on their own.
The term "blog" is short for "Web log" and refers to the online journals that have given a public voice to anyone with an Internet connection. Evangelicals, for instance, used blogs to get voters to the polls in November, becoming a big part of President George W. Bush's victory.
Text: John 16:16-33
One of the best commentaries on the Gospel of John is Dostoyevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov, a novel which also has a good deal to say about theological education. I want to begin by quoting at length a passage from that novel that has to do with a novice priest who has recently graduated from a theological school of sorts and who is struggling to discern the particular shape of God’s call upon his life.
“I can’t imagine anything better for our congregation than to hear from you.” With those words last fall, Rabbi Lucy H.F. Dinner of Raleigh’s Temple Beth Or responded to a letter from Arthur (Art) Ross III, pastor of Raleigh’s White Memorial Church.
Abraham went, and his children followed.
Forty-five “Children of Abraham”— 14 Jews, 15 Christians, 15 Muslims, and one Unitarian-Universalist participated in an interfaith pilgrimage to the Holy Land, February 10-21, 2005, sponsored by the Wilshire Center Interfaith Council of Los Angeles. The pilgrims were led by Rabbi Stephen Julius Stein of the Wilshire Boulevard Temple;
The PC(USA)’s Divestment Policy is a protest of thirty-eight years of Israel’s illegal military occupation in the West Bank, East Jerusalem, and Gaza. The policy is not anti-Israel, anti-Jewish, or anti-Semitic. Its purpose is to promote the end of the occupation.
Davidson College’s Board of Trustees recently decided that people who are not active members of a Christian church may serve on that board. Some have criticized this as a move away from our Christian heritage. I would like to offer a different interpretation, as I see the change as a forward-looking expression of how we want our particular understanding of Christian faith to be embodied.
Saturday night, the night before Easter, about 45 of us gathered in the dusk in the narthex outside the sanctuary doors. We settled ourselves and began to gather our hearts for worship - a new service - a kind of modified Easter Vigil for us to try. The sanctuary doors opened to reveal a path of light - tiny votive candles perched on the side of each pew - making a pathway of light through the dim and dark sanctuary.
“Do you not know?” Paul asks the Romans, and then twice firmly announces, “we know,” “we know.” The language hints that something has been misplaced.
We know—unless we have forgotten. We know—unless we assume it didn’t apply in this case or under these particular circumstances. We know—unless we haven’t calculated the fullest consequences of what we have come to know. We know—unless, of course, we don’t know at all.
I am a Presbyterian Jedi. At least that is what some seem to think. Last year I was elected to the Presbyterian Jedi Council (aka General Assembly Council.) I am now “in the know” and the fate of the denomination is in my hands. Depending on whom you ask, I could be either Obi-Wan Kenobi or Darth Vader. Either way, I get the same questions. Membership is declining and there is financial difficulty. What am I going to do to save the denomination?
“I am newly ordained yet already pessimistic about the future of this denomination. I am 30 years old and already tired by the same old arguments and voting trends. I am a Presbyterian who is ashamed that outsiders best know our denomination because of intense bickering rather than our proclamation of the gospel.
“I am not naïve enough to believe that simply talking to one another will smooth the splinters of our denomination. Yet I have confidence that the church of Jesus Christ still belongs to God—and not to a “group” or a “side” or a “network.” And I believe it is our job as leaders in the church to take the time to listen to where God might be leading us.”
"We hope to keep discovering who Jesus is calling us to be as we meet together in the same denomination – and we intend to keep learning, and growing in faith by God’s grace. We will meet again next year and continue our dialogue. We encourage you to do the same."
© Copyright 2026 The Presbyterian Outlook. All Rights Reserved. Privacy Statement. Website by Web Publisher PRO
