What Would It Mean to Err on the Side of Life?

By Roy Ciampa, PhD
Associate Professor of New Testament

In a recent debate between Republican presidential candidates, one of them defended their executive order requiring (with a parental opt-out option) adolescent girls of his state to receive the vaccine protecting against the human papilloma virus and thus some forms of cervical cancer by saying, “I will always err on the side of life.” That’s an argument that would normally resonate strongly with traditionally pro-life evangelicals. In this case it didn’t really work that well for the candidate. But it does raise the question again of what it would look like if Christians did consistently tend to err on the side of life.

But when it comes to the death penalty there is no recognition that a consistent commitment to erring on the side of life would mean recognizing that there has been a history of erring on the side of death and that that reality will continue as long as we deal with imperfect legal systems and imperfect evidence or witnesses. Why would one be prepared to err on the side of death in these cases?

In the constant attacks on the EPA one hears that the agency has a negative impact on businesses and the economy. But the EPA estimates that the changes that have been proposed “could save up to 2,500 lives,” not to mention that other negative impacts on human health and the health of the environment. Perhaps their number is inaccurate. But anyone who is committed to always erring on the side of life would have to weigh how much 2,500 lives (and further damage to the environment) might be worth in business expenses.

One presidential candidate has excoriated “Obamacare,” arguing that if his care had been entrusted to Obamacare during his recent fight with cancer he would be dead today. I confess that I find this argument (repeatedly used) outrageous, deceptive, and outrageously misleading. The point of Obamacare is not to make people who can afford better care to “settle” for something less than what they now have available. Those of us who already have good healthcare can continue to use what we have. The point is to find ways of making healthcare affordable for millions of Americans who are currently without any healthcare at all (a 2008 estimate put the number at 45.7 million people). So instead of contrasting his care under his high-end healthcare coverage with his imagination of what it would be like under Obamacare, the only appropriate comparison is one between the treatment that 45 million people would receive right now with no healthcare, and what those same people would receive under Obamacare (see the informative article on healthcare in the US on Wikipedia, where it is pointed out that ours is the “only wealthy, industrialized nation that does not ensure that all citizens have [some] coverage”). How many millions are more likely to survive under one of those scenarios than the other? In this case, what would it mean to consistently err on the side of life?

The abortion issue, which monopolized so much evangelical political involvement in recent elections, has hardly been mentioned at all this time around. But it is fascinating to me to notice the strange way in which evangelical-focused rhetoric (and rhetorical coming from some evangelicals) on various political issues relates to profound issues of life and justice. Three years ago Tony Campolo (and others) argued for an approach to consistently erring on the side of life:

[W]e should be consistently pro-life, which means that life is sacred and should be protected not only for the unborn but also for the born. This requires that there be commitments to stop wars, end capital punishment, and provide universal healthcare for all of our citizens—in addition to stopping abortions.

He referred to this as a “consistently pro-life position.” Unfortunately, in my view, Campolo’s approach to erring on the side of life hasn’t found much traction in many Christian circles either. Proverbs 18:21 reminds us that “Death and life are in the power of the tongue.” That should be enough to motivate us to think carefully about what we do or do not say (and the critical assessment we give to what any politician says) about topics that have consequences for the lives (and deaths) of people in our nation or another.

Perfect Health

By Jeffrey Arthurs
Professor of Preaching & Communication and Dean of the Chapel

I go to the chiropractor as often as my insurance permits because I’m a walking, achey-breaky bag of bones. As you may know, for many years chiropractors have been at the center of our country’s upsurge of interest in alternative medicine and holistic health. If you were to attend a chiropractic convention I’d imagine that you would see workshops like “Detoxification Through Herbal Blah Blah,” “Recent Advances in Lowering Cholesterol with Alpha, Zen, Beta Blah Blah,” and “Mind, Spirit, Body, and Blah Blah.”

So, I was interested to see a white paper my chiropractor wrote recently arguing against the concept/goal of “Perfect Health.” He said that for years he has talked about it, heard about it, promoted it, believed in it, and urged it for his patients. Now he’s changed his mind. He says that Perfect Health cannot be defined and is probably unattainable even if defined in narrow terms. It is a chimera. Instead, he is starting to promote contentment.

I like this. Perfect health, the perfect body, a perfect night’s sleep, perfect alignment, and so forth, ain’t gonna happen in this world. My chiropractor didn’t include a biblical/theological perspective in his white paper, but isn’t his thesis consistent with the Faith? We are as solid as mist; the span of our days is a handbreadth; we are like grass that withers. We will not know Perfect Health or perfect anything in this life. And that makes me long for the next life in the next age.

I recently read Heaven by Randy Alcorn, and it has increased my desire for that age. I like to think of it as Gandalf did when comforting Pippen as the orcs hammered the seventh gate: “This is not the end. The gray rain curtain of this world rolls back, and then you see it . . . . White shores and a far green country under a swift sunrise.”

So, I’m giving up my quest for Perfect Health (it wasn’t much of a quest, anyway), and I’m setting my eyes not on what is seen, but on what is eternal. When I see the tent of my earthly home being dismantled, I’m focusing forward on the building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.