Breakpoint

Last week, I shared the story of a man and his wife who decided not to pursue in vitro fertilization, despite being told by their doctor that it could be successful in their case. "A little boy or girl created with our own genetic material," he wrote, "is not morally worth the many inevitable deaths of his or her embryonic brothers and sisters."

The moral clarity and moral courage of this couple is impressive and, as I said in the commentary, too rare. More than a few people wrote to ask us if the problems raised by IVF, particularly the issue of so-called "excess embryos," could be solved by what's called "snowflake adoption."

Snowflake adoptions involve adopting and implanting frozen embryos "left over" after IVF. Like pregnancy care centers that offer redemptive ways for people to confront the issue of abortion, embryo adoption is an amazing and redemptive response to a pre-existing brokenness. It's not accurate, however, to call it a "solution." Here's why.

While the numbers are hard to pin down, it's estimated that only one in four viable embryos created by IVF will be implanted. And, only about 40 percent of implantations result in a successful pregnancy. Once a successful pregnancy is achieved, any excess embryos created by the process are either discarded, donated for scientific research, or frozen. By most estimates there are more than one million frozen embryos in storage, just in the United States.

In other words, to "solve" just the current crisis would require one million couples willing and able to undergo the expense of embryo transplantation. And, it's important to know that at least 60 percent of the "adoptions" would not result in a successful pregnancy.

But, of course, the number of frozen embryos continues to grow. The cultural factors that currently drive IVF are still in play. There is still an utter lack of ethical consideration surrounding artificial reproductive technologies. We still operate, as a culture, from a utilitarian "ends-justifies-the-means" mindset, where people often use technology to postpone childbirth and in which same-sex couples, who have intentionally chosen a sterile union but who nonetheless demand children.

That's why "snowflake adoption" is better seen as a wonderful, redemptive response, but not a solution to the problem. Another response would be organizations who perform IVF without creating excess embryos. However, they are the exception, not the rule. For the most part, we have accepted the destruction of countless lives so that some infertile couples can have a child of their own genetic making. For the most part, many Christians have also accepted this.

Back in March, I spoke with Hannah Strege, America's first "snowflake" baby and her family on the BreakPoint Podcast. Her parents adopted her from a freezer, and they courageously gave her a chance at life. During the interview, Hannah told me that she wished to devote her life, in part, to opposing in vitro fertilization.

"Snowflake adoption" is an amazing response to the brokenness, but we have to stop adding to the brokenness. Christians must stop participating in any technology that creates excess embryos. Pastors need to know enough about IVF and be brave enough to counsel couples to make the right decision.

And Christians must live counter-culturally when it comes to those factors that drive the use of IVF, such as delayed parenting and same-sex marriage.

God bless any couple willing to adopt and bring a snowflake baby to term. And God give us the kind of moral courage we need to live in this cultural moment, the kind of courage displayed by the young couple who wrote me.

Before I leave you today, I want to remind you that BreakPoint is a listener-supported ministry of the Colson Center. The Colson Center is equipping you and countless others, not only through our BreakPoint podcast, but also through our short courses, our What Would You Say? videos and a host of other programs. You can show your support for BreakPoint and these other ministries by making a year-end gift at Breakpoint.org/December2020.

Thank you!

A mom writes to BreakPoint to ask about a school request. The school wants to push inclusion in the classroom for her son with a disability. The family is concerned that joining the inclusion effort will inevitably be tied to sexual dysphoria inclusion.

After explaining the Christian view of dignity and value, John and Shane provide support for a youth worker. The youth worker asks for church history resources in an effort to make church history connect to a Christian worldivew. John and Shane highlight the development of doctrine inside church history. They explain the distinct nature of the Christian worldview over other belief systems.

-- Resources --

Political Idolatries - Mark Tooley

Why You Think The Way You Do - Glenn Sunshine

Church History Vol. 1 - Everett Ferguson

Documents of the Christian Church - Henry Bettenson

Church History in Plain Language - Bruce Shelley

George Frideric Handel was mainly a composer of operas. In fact, he composed dozens of them. Though his productions were popular in 18th century London, Handel had his enemies. A foreigner, born in Germany, and by many accounts not a very likeable fellow, his rivals detested his style of opera. He was also kind of a large, awkward man, rough and hot-tempered enough to earn the nickname "The Great Bear."

When his operas and his health began to fail, Handel sank into bankruptcy and despair, believing his career was over. In 1741, he was invited to Ireland to direct one of his works at a charity performance. Handel decided to write a new oratorio.

A deeply religious man, he turned away from the human foibles common to his operas and chose his text and themes from Scripture. Something remarkable happened. He composed with a super-human zeal and energy. People thought he was mad, or even under a spell. One servant reported that Handel seldom ate or slept and worked with such frenzy that his fingers could no longer grip his pen. He was, in fact, in the grip of divine inspiration. The result is one of the world's great masterworks, Messiah.

Handel finished Part I in only six days. He finished Part II in nine days, and Part III in six days. The orchestration took him only a few days more. In other words, in all, two-and-a-half hours of the world's most magnificent music was composed in less than twenty-five days. When he finished, he sobbed: "I think that I did see all heaven before me, and the great God Himself!"

Immediately, from its premiere in Dublin in 1742, Messiah was pronounced a masterpiece. Messiah recounts the prophecies of Christ and his triumphant birth, utilizing an amazing amount of Scripture including passages like, "For unto us a child is born . . . and the government shall be upon His shoulders." And "His name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, the Mighty God . . . the Prince of Peace." In fact, Messiah pulls from the Psalms, Job, Isaiah, Lamentations, Haggai, Malachi, Zechariah, Matthew, Luke, John, Romans, 1 Corinthians, Hebrews, and Revelation.

At its London premiere, King George was so moved by the "Hallelujah Chorus" that he spontaneously rose from his seat. The entire audience followed his example and, for the past 250 years, audiences have continued to do the same.

After the success of Messiah, Handel continued to write religious music. Beethoven said: "To him I bend the knee, for Handel was the greatest, ablest composer that ever lived." Even after his eyesight failed, Handel continued to perform until, at age 74, he collapsed while conducting a performance of Messiah. He was put to bed saying, "I should like to die on Good Friday."

Instead, he died on Holy Saturday, April 14th, 1759. His grave, at Westminster Abbey, is marked by a statue of Handel with a score of Messiah opened on the table. The page that is visible is, "I Know That My Redeemer Liveth."

My wife starts listening to Messiah each year during Advent, or even a bit earlier. Like King George, our hearts still rise at that great triumphal chorus. We sing "Hallelujah" to the King who will reign forever and ever.

A version of this commentary by Chuck Colson first aired December 22, 2000

A few years ago, a popular Christian singer, even though it wasn't Christmastime, ended her set by leading the audience in "O Come All Ye Faithful." By the time the song was over, and the crowd's attention was pulled back to the stage, the singer was gone. Even though it was her concert and not a church service, the singer hoped to point to God and not herself. When it was time for her well-earned applause, she was out of sight.

A few weeks ago, news broke that a young, popular pastor from Hillsong Church in New York City had been fired. Carl Lentz is known for hanging out with celebrities, throwing so-called "Church house parties," and dressing in expensive, stylish, and even provocative ways. On Instagram, Lentz confessed that he had been unfaithful in his marriage.

This remarkably sad story is certainly not the only one we've heard recently of a pastor or ministry leader found guilty of a moral failing. Both from common observation and from Jesus' teaching, it is clear that fame and wealth can both attract temptation and cultivate corruption. The main lesson for all of us is to stay accountable. Stay humble. There, but for the grace of God, go I.

There's also a lesson here about the relentless pursuit of relevance. When pastors and ministry leaders flirt with celebrity, Christianity becomes a brand. When that happens, the surrounding noise of marketing and brand- building drowns out the central promise of a changed life. Suddenly, the metrics of a "successful" ministry shift from faithfulness to the number of likes, shares, and dollars.

About the same time that I read the heartbreaking news about Carl Lentz, I learned of the passing of a man I've known since I was young. Lee Stone spent decades as a volunteer girls' basketball coach at the little Christian school I attended and as the pastor of a small country Baptist church in Virginia. For 34 years he led the local rescue mission in town, helping men and women who were down and out with alcoholism, addiction, and homelessness–often the same men and women, over and over again.

Lee Stone was a quiet man, and he walked with a limp. He was certainly no celebrity. I can't say for sure, but I would be willing to bet a lot of money that he never had an Instagram account. However, what's clear, both from his obituary and from the tributes that poured in on social media, is that Lee Stone was a man who loved others deeply and was deeply loved by many. He left his community better without ever building his "platform."

"Lee's legacy," the local newspaper read, "is one of serving God with the compassion of Jesus Christ." That legacy and Lee's impact were quietly built on a lifetime of faithfulness. He is survived by his lovely wife, to whom he was married for 65 years, his 4 children, and his 23 grandchildren.

The contrast between these two stories, one which made national headlines and one that made the local paper's obituary section, was stark. I am sure he wasn't perfect, but Mr. Stone chose a life largely insulated from the temptation to entitlement or self-worship or fame. But his impact was great.

I want to be like Lee Stone. I don't think I'm old enough to offer much life or ministry advice, but I will confidently advise anyone called to serve the Lord as a pastor or speaker or ministry leader, if given the choice between the way of a celebrity pastor or the way of Lee Stone, choose the way of Lee Stone.

Our talent and our drive and even our charisma can often write checks that our character can't cash. Err instead on the side of a quiet, faithful life. Leave the stage before the applause starts. The applause of our Father, "who sees in secret," is the only praise we need anyway.

As we prepare to celebrate the birth of Jesus at Christmas, Shane Morris invites Dr. Alastair Roberts to explain the stunning symmetry in the Gospel narratives between Jesus' birth and His crucifixion, burial, and resurrection. Dr. Roberts also explains how reading the Bible typologically can help us see the amazing parallels between the Old Testament and the life of Jesus—much as Jesus must have explained to the two disciples on the road to Emmaus, where Jesus, "beginning with Moses and all the prophets, interpreted to them in all the scriptures the things concerning himself."

I'm ready to make a prediction about the 2020 election. I realize it's a bit late, though I am comforted by the fact I cannot be more off than the polls were. For the record, this isn't a prediction about whether or not President Trump will concede or succeed in returning to the Oval Office, or even about what will happen in the very important Georgia Senate run-offs.

No, this is a prediction I thought about making months ago, but I couldn't quite figure out how to articulate it. But now, I'm ready to predict that many people are going to regret how they talked about and treated others over the last year or more.

Christians, especially, will regret how this election has ended deep and important alliances and even friendships. We are going to regret things we posted and tweeted. We are going to regret ways in which we questioned motives or even character. We are going to regret placing so much weight on a set of political outcomes that certainly matter, but not nearly as much as it felt like at the time.

It's not just the election. Disagreements over mask mandates, lockdown orders, and other aspects of pandemic frustration have broken up families, churches, and friendships. I predict there will be a good bit of self-reckoning in the future, looking back at words we allowed ourselves, and wondering, "Was it really worth all that?"

Don't get me wrong: All of these issues at the center of our fighting have mattered greatly. I don't think there are "two sides" to most of them, at least not two sides that are rational, measured, or moral. There are, however, image bearers on both sides. In most cases, there are image bearers with whom God has ordained us to "do life," or by whom God has blessed our lives for years. Many Thanksgiving meals were ruined this year, and we can't just blame overreaching governors.

I've experienced the fracturing myself. Emails and phone calls from long-time listeners and even friends demanding I agree with them . . . or else. Of course, instances of "How dare you!" and "Shame on you!" are always part of this gig, but they have dramatically increased in volume and frequency, and have come from surprising corners.

This was a crucially important election, and this was a charge we took seriously. Each week for three months prior to it, the Colson Center held a national prayer webinar for the Church and our country. We did our best to help Christians be informed, not only on the presidential and congressional elections, but also about the very important local and state elections and state ballot initiatives.

Chuck Colson often observed that politics is downstream from culture. That's almost always true, but most outside observers would have to admit that today, politics has taken over the lion's share of our culture. In a sense, that's still a "downstream" reality, because so much of the larger culture has thinned out over recent decades. Nature might abhor a vacuum, but political forces love it. As other aspects of culture, especially our pre-political relationships and local institutions, have drawn back, the noise of political ultimatums ride the tide of big tech right into more and more of our lives.

Fr. Robert Sirico once said that Christians should be ruthless with ideas but gentle with people. Too many Americans, but especially too many Christians, have been ruthless with people. Not only is this a way of shortcutting our task of truth-telling and persuading, it's wrong.

A second prediction is that we are going to miss, and even need, many of the relationships we lost. Christian friendships, as C. S. Lewis describes in his masterful book The Four Loves, are among God's greatest gifts to His people this side of eternity, and even beyond. "To the Ancients," Lewis wrote, "Friendship seemed the happiest and most fully human of all loves; the crown of life and the school of virtue."

But of course, a time is coming, and coming soon, when Christians who spent the last few years shooting at each other will find themselves, once again, side by side in the cultural foxholes. Many of us used the word "reprieve" to describe the 2016 election. That was the right word; it was never a solution. By all accounts, although there may be some additional buffering courtesy of a remade judiciary, that reprieve is over.

The incoming administration has promised to revoke the Mexico City Policy, which forbids U.S. foreign aid for organizations that promote abortion, and the recent appointment of Xavier Becerra to lead the Department of Health and Human Services indicates there's not really an interest in "coming together" and "moving forward" with those of us not in lock-step on abortion and sexual issues. Not to mention, during the campaign, Joe Biden promised to continue the fight against the Little Sisters of the Poor, who have been to the Supreme Court three times so that they don't have to pay for birth control. And he's promised to repeal the Hyde Amendment, which bars federal funding for abortion.

Will Christians be ready to face these challenges? And, even putting those challenges aside for just a moment (because a moment may be all we have), the Body of Christ predates and will long outlive any election cycle. How are we going to humbly obey Christ's command to encourage one another towards love and good works, from thought leaders to family members, when we can't stand each other?

Jesus' instruction, even before we appeal to the throne of God for help, is this: "First go and be reconciled to your brother."

Faithfulness, not success. That was a phrase that circled around Chuck Colson. However, as John Stonestreet points out to Shane Morris, that was something Chuck learned through real life consequences.

John and Shane think through the power of celebrity, drawing listeners to recognize the power of social media to build an idol of success. They make the statement that social media is the most powerful force to engage and reveal a worldview since the printing press.

John and Shane also explore the worldview of former Vice-President Joe Biden as he begins making placements for his cabinet.

Christians have so many wonderful resources that can help us celebrate Christ's birth and prepare our hearts for His second coming, and one of them is sacred music. The abundant supply of truly majestic Christmas music points to a long line of theological artists, individuals who took seriously both what truth needed to be said in music and how it could be said so as to be both memorable and beautiful. Perhaps the greatest offering of all is Johann Sebastian Bach's Christmas Oratorio.

For much of his life, Bach was in charge of music at St. Thomas Lutheran Church in Leipzig, Germany. However, his many other responsibilities, such as raising 20 children, might explain why he indulged in a few shortcuts. For example, Bach often recycled old material for new musical pieces.

Of course, true creativity does not always require an artist to work from scratch. We are made in the image of the God, who created ex nihilo, out of nothing, but human creativity always, to some degree, involves cultivating what God has given us and developing it to its highest form. In the Christmas Oratorio, Bach took virtually every solo from sacred music he had composed earlier and combined them with other choruses and instrumentals that were both new and old.

The opening chorus, "Celebrate, rejoice, rise up and… glorify what the Highest has done today," was completely original. Later in the oratorio, Bach invites us to contemplate the paradox of the Incarnation: that the King of heaven saw fit to become a tiny baby born in a stable. By means of a powerful bass, Bach marvels that, "Great Lord, O powerful King, dearest Savior. . . He who sustains the entire world, who created its magnificence and beauty, must sleep in a harsh manger."

Bach's original lyrics are in German. Come to BreakPoint.org, for a link to the entire English translation.

Bach's notion of creativity has been largely lost today. As children of 19th century Romanticism, many contemporary artists focus on the self as the creator and sees the role of the artist to spin out something completely novel and unique. Most artists today equate creativity with novelty, some even think that the role of art is to be subversive to any and all norms. It's a form of what C. S. Lewis called "chronological snobbery."

Bach's music is as a powerful reproach to that vision of what art is. He saw creativity as a means of highlighting and enhancing traditional Christian belief. He saw scriptural texts and musical forms were compatible, serving each other in order to supply rich liturgy.

Bach signed all his work "SDG," shorthand for Soli Dei Gloria, which means "to God alone the Glory." Bach knew the One true source of human creativity and that He must work through the composer if the art is to be what it should.

This Christmas, let one of history's greatest artists, remind you that all of our work should be done to the glory of God. Like Bach, our creativity is intended to serve the Creator, who is the source of our lives and our abilities.

A version of this commentary was first published by Chuck Colson on BreakPoint in December of 1998.

An agnostic historian just offered some interesting advice to Christians who want to be heard in a skeptical culture: "Preach the weird stuff."

In a recent video interview with Glen Scrivener of Speak Life, Tom Holland, award-winning historian of the ancient world and author of the book Dominion, said that Christians shouldn't shy away from the things that make the Faith unique. For example, the idea that Jesus of Nazareth is both God and man, said Holland, "sets everything on its head." In fact, it is the Incarnation that provides what Holland calls Christianity's "strange singularity."

Christians, especially in light of modern sensibilities, are tempted to downplay the supernatural dimension of the faith. Yet Holland asserts that Christians should insist on things like angels, demons, and miracles. Not only are these beliefs non-negotiable within historic, confessional Christianity, they are foundational to much of the world's great art and literature. Christianity's greatest contributions, the ones that literally transformed the world, as Holland documented in Dominion, are grounded in "the weird stuff" of Christianity.

Even better, these truths have stood the test of time. Perhaps that's because they're true.

In the early third century, the church father Tertullian wrote that the death and resurrection of Christ "is entirely credible, because it is unfitting . . . [and] it is certain, because it is impossible." Tertullian understood that Christianity makes claims that people will find, at best, weird, and, at worst, offensive. And even back then people tried to make Christianity more palatable to contemporary ears. For example, the Gnostics, thinking the Incarnation and bodily resurrection were philosophical non-starters for the pagan world, remade Jesus into a sage and dispenser of hidden wisdom, and His physical resurrection into a spiritual one.

Fifteen hundred years later, in the so-called "Age of Enlightenment," Christian ideas like the divinity of Christ, the Trinity, miracles, and the authority of Scripture were deemed to be insurmountable stumbling blocks for sophisticated minds. So, attempts were made, once again, to reinvent Jesus and Christianity to suit the spirit of the age: Jesus was a great teacher but not Divine, miracles had reasonable explanations, and Scripture could be scientifically scrutinized but still teach good morals.

Of course, the Jeffersonian attempts to remove the supernatural left no reason to accord Jesus a higher status than any other moral teacher or philosopher, despite the best attempts of people such as Friedrich Schleiermacher to win the intellectual approval of Christianity's "cultured despisers."

In other words, reimagining Jesus and Christianity to appeal to skeptics and unbelievers is nothing new. The result is always the same: We end up with a Jesus who looks nothing like the Jesus of history but looks an awful lot like the person doing the reinventing.

In the 1960s and 1970s, many American churches attempted to become "relevant" by embracing fashionable political causes while downplaying and even denying historic Christian orthodoxy. These churches have been hemorrhaging members ever since. Today, many have chosen to reimagine Jesus into the image of a social revolutionary or as a champion of the sexual revolution. Many of these churches face extinction.

Scholars may debate (and they do) whether or not the loss of members is caused by these attempts to be relevant, but a church that merely repeats the New York Times doesn't give anyone a compelling reason to get out of bed on Sunday morning. Why sit through a boring sermon when there's NPR?

What's relevant to the larger culture will always be a moving target. As William Inge, the Dean of St. Paul's Cathedral, once put it, "Whoever marries the spirit of this age will find himself a widower in the next." Trying to win the approval of non-Christians by changing the message of Christianity is as much of a waste of time as it was in Tertullian's day. Plus, the message of Christianity is True, which means we don't have to make it relevant. It already is relevant—to reality!

Tom Holland is right. Let's preach the Truth. God exists. Miracles happen. Jesus is God incarnate. He actually rose from the dead. That He cares how we live. That He's coming again to judge both the living and dead. You know, all that "weird stuff."

John and Shane field questions from BreakPoint commentary. They start their session pointing out common challenges that Christmas is a pagan holiday. Shane provides a few resources he is providing this week from the Colson Center. John builds a structure of thought that stands against the torrent of criticism some face about Christian's hold on the holiday.

Shane then introduces a challenge to a piece related to the United States' recent history in accepting Christian refugees. John provides necessary distinction in defending borders and providing asylum, calling listeners to understand the importance of the cultural moment.

To close John and Shane dig deep into theological thought on determinism. Shane frames the conversation around a comment from a listener related to a recent BreakPoint article. They lead listeners to a place of awe for the mind and love of God.