Dear Friends,
The dummies on the other side, the pro-aborts,
labor under certain misconceptions
concerning our people. I think they
understand us better than they let on, though.
One of their females once asked me,
"Why do you hate women?"
"Hate women?" I replied. "What are you
talking about? I love women! I'm the father
of five children, and two of them are
girls who will be women someday.
My mother is a woman. My sisters are
women. My aunts are women. My niece is a
women. I love women like crazy. Women
make wonderful companions. In fact,
when it comes to companionship, some
women are better than a blue-tick hound!"
Well, that was the wrong thing to say at that particular moment.
Her eyes started bugging out, and I kept
a wary eye on her, ready to duck if she took
a swing at me.
"How...how could you be so insulting?" she screamed.
"Insulting?" I asked. "What are you talking
about? If you can't see that as a compliment
you must not ever have had a dog for
a friend."
AN APOLOGY TO OUR READERS IN CANADA,
ENGLAND, NEW ZEALAND, AND SCOTLAND.
The main goal of The Brockhoeft Report
is to heighten the public's sense of outrage over
the horror, tragedy, and wickedness
of abortion. If the collective public outrage is ever
brought into proportion to the magnitude
of the evil, then the evil will be stopped. Towards
this end we very often, when referring
to the little victims of this form of human sacrifice,
specify "American babies," "the slaughter
of American babies," "fighting for the lives of
American babies," etc. Our purpose in
this usage is to bring the babies' faces into clearer
focus. In other words, to heighten awareness
of their status as human beings. It is no more
than an unashamedly propagandistic appeal
to the feelings of patriotism within our fellow
Americans who make up 98% of our readership.
Because we have no more than two or three
readers in any one of the above mentioned
countries, it is not expected that our
writings will have a major impact therein. All this,
notwithstanding, in none of our specific
references to American babies would we ever mean
to imply that a preborn baby within
our own borders is of an inherently higher value than that
of any baby anywhere else. In the eyes
of God, and in our eyes, they are all equally human,
equally innocent, equally helpless,
equally worthy to be defended to the uttermost. This is so
self-evident we're embarrassed even
to mention it for fear of seeming to imply that there
ever
could have been
any question about it. When baby-killer Henry Morgentaler's facility
in Toronto
was destroyed last year, the absolutist
anti-abortionists on this side of the border were ecstatic.
In the eyes of God,
and in our eyes,
they are all equally
human, equally innocent,
equally helpless,
equally worthy to be
defended to the uttermost.
Our readers are already somewhat familiar
with the Cincinnati fires for which I am now
serving a separate sentence, but this
may be the first mention many have heard of the
Florida operation for which I served
my first sentence on convictions of possession of
unregistered explosives, interstate
transportation of unregistered explosives, and
attempting to destroy a building affecting
interstate commerce. I got two and a half
years in that case. In the book I'll
give detailed accounts of those nights when these things
happened. I'd feel guilty of egocentrism
to base an entire issue of this newsletter on such
matters, but if I discern reader interest
on the subject, I'll do it. Though many friends in the
movement have urged that I tell my story,
I try to keep the focus off of myself and on the
babies.
********************
A question I'm often asked is how did
I first become involved in the defense of the babies'
lives. Here I will answer that. We're
a little embarrassed to submit this issue because of the
boring nature of the topic. Our first
two issues were received with such enthusiasm on our
readers' part that we now feel under
pressure to keep our story readable, but this sequence
might be a bit dull in places. We hope
not many readers will fall asleep with this paper in
their hands.
********************
Here's how I got started against abortion.
I come from a very patriotic family. Military service
has been a family tradition, a sort
of rite of passage for the man. Our family's men have fought
in every war since its immigration from
Europe before the Civil War. The very next day after
Japan bombed Pearl Harbor my father
went to the army recruiter to sign up. My uncles fought
in World War II also. In our own turn
my cousins and I were glad to go when the freedom-loving
people of South Vietnam were threatened
by communism. My brother, Bo, was still in high school
when the war concluded.
Being patriotic didn't use to be corny,
not until fairly recent years. During
my childhood and through my adolescent
years, every American, it seemed, was patriotic. Not
until the liberals were triumphant in
their cultural revolution did patriotism seem passé. I remember
carrying the stars and stripes as a
cub scout in a Memorial Day parade in 1961. As the marching
band played "The Star Spangled Banner"
and I passed with Old Glory, every man stood straight,
chin up, took off his hat, and placed
it over his heart. I'm not ashamed to tell you--it gave that
10 year old kid chills. In fact I'm
not ashamed to say that remembering now and telling you
makes me cry, because I remember when
this was a great country and stood for what was right.
The only time I ever cry is when I write
these reports. As a boy scout I marched in Memorial Day
parades, too. Then as a Navy man I again
carried the flag, white gloves and all, as an honorary
color guard when my unit passed-in-review
and for other ceremonies. It seemed in those days
every American was proud of everything
about his country: technological achievement, affluence,
military prowess, liberty, justice,
mom, dad, and God.
In those days it had never entered our
minds that it should be a source of pride that our
government banned abortion. Well of
course you can't do that! That would be
the singularly must un-American thing
in the world! In 1963 if an American had expressed
pride in the fact that baby-killing
was forbidden here, he would have been considered
a lunatic. The listener might have said
something like: "Hey, no kidding, pal, no kidding,
what are you, crazy or something? Such
an injustice would be so contrary to everything this
country stands for, why even bother
to mention it? It would be so unthinkable, why even
bring it up?"
I was in the territorial waters of North
Vietnam when the war "officially" ended in January,
1973. I was sent immediately back to
this country. So I left one combat zone where a war had
just ended and coincidentally entered
another combat zone where another war had just
begun as the U.S. Supreme Court declared
war on pre-born American babies. The bloodbath,
the holocaust, had begun. Upon my return
to the U.S. I experienced future shock.
The truth was so staggering and horrifying
my mind refused to accept it at first. When I heard
the news in 1973 I tried to deny it
was really happening. I thought to myself:
"There must
be something about this I don't
understand! They
can't mean they're going to allow babies to be killed!
Not in this great
country! They must mean just if the mother's life is imminently
threatened! They
can't mean they're going to allow any baby to be killed
for any reason!
This is America! That couldn't be happening here, could it?
Not in this great
country! There must be something
I don't understand!"
Soon I had to face reality after the
initial shock. I was ashamed, before God, of my country.
A lifetime of patriotic feelings, though,
are hard to let go of, so I started thinking thus:
"This
won't last long! The good people of this country won't allow it! This will
cause
such public uproar and social upheaval the government will be forced to
relent.
Soon a leader will emerge, and I'll get in step, and we'll all pull together
and
defiantly demand a stop to such evil!"
I sincerely believed this would happen,
that there were too many good men in this
nation for abortion to march on, unchallenged,
and for the death toll of American
babies to mount into the millions. I
really would have wanted to do something right
away if there had been any organized
opposition. I would not have delayed joining
and taking part. Since I truly believed
people would soon organize, I never thought of
trying to do something all by myself.
From the very start I was so repulsed by the idea of
abortion that, today, I'm confident
the only reason bombing did not cross my mind 20
years ago is because
I fully expected the evil to be stopped by vigorous, wide-spread,
aggressive protest.
But deep down I understood, intuitively, that abortion was a kind of
unjust warfare, itself, and justified
an actual fight, if necessary. If you had privately taken
me aside in 1973 and told me in a hushed
tone, "This is so terrible! We should bomb those
places," I promise I would have recognized
your sense of justice, immediately, and replied,
"You're right! Let's do it! Let's start
planning now!" (or words to that effect). I wouldn't have
said, "Let me think about it."
********************
I really want you to believe what I have
just said, so I want to explain a little matter
about my military experience, but I'm
hesitant because of fear it will sound boastful.
I hope you won't take it that
way and will notice that I've brought it up only to prove
I'm being honest with you. My orders
to Vietnam didn't just suddenly materialize,
unexpectedly. I volunteered to go because
I saw the South Vietnamese people were
being threatened with a communist takeover,
and I figured if they were willing to fight for
freedom they deserved to be free and
deserved help. In January, '73, I had just returned
from voluntary participation in a bombing
campaign (although I was just ground support
personnel, not a flight crew member)
in support of the liberty of a people 8,000 miles away.
So I hope you will believe I would not
have turned my back on my own people, American
babies, if you had asked for my help
in bombing an abortuary in this country, even in '73,
and especially since it was not "mere"
liberty but their very lives which were at stake.
I would have gone with you, and the
only hesitation would have been that required to plan
the mission carefully enough so as to
ensure its success. I would have agreed in 1974, '75, '76,
or at any time, because I never grew
accustomed to abortion; never accepted it.
My hatred of this abomination never
diminished with time.
Yes, I admit, as a Christian, with no
shyness, that I hate abortion. In fact I'll emphasize it"
I hate it bitterly, passionately. I'll
tell you something else: I have never wondered, nor
ever will, whether this attitude is
Christianity appropriate or not. God, Himself, does not
get merely indignant over injustice.
He openly hates it. Anybody who doesn't believe this
needs to read the Bible. If you have
a concordance and a Bible and don't believe God
actually hates injustice, you can prove
it to yourself in five minutes. Just look up the words
"hate," "injustice," and "justice" in
your concordance and it'll tell you everywhere those words
appear in the Bible. Then you can read
all day long about how God hates injustice. So if the
Lord hates it, I reckon I should too,
and no one is going to make me feel bad about it, ever.
"Hate the evil, and love the good, and
establish judgment in the gate..." (Amos 5:15 KJV).
Uh, by the way, if you look up all the
verses where the word "hate" appears, you'll notice that
the Lord hates not only evil but those
who do it. Psalm 5:5-6: "...thou hatest all workers of iniquity
...the Lord will abhor the bloody and
deceitful man." Also Psalm 15:4. Someone may complain,
"Why is Brockhoeft focusing only on
this hate stuff? Doesn't he know that God is a God of love?"
Well, sure I know that! But you don't
need me to tell you that. You already know that part.
Everybody does. Your pastors tell you
that much every Sunday. So my job is to tell you the rest
of the truth--the part the pastor doesn't
like to mention because it doesn't sound pretty.
c
Back to the original story. So I waited
for the expected leader to arise and the protesters
to organize, but no one showed up. So
I waited longer, watching and listening,
for something to happen. Nothing.
I waited, and waited some more, but as the years
rolled by I thought of the tragedy often
and felt guiltier and guiltier as the death toll
soared. Deep down I understood that
I, too, was responsible. It wasn't just the abortionists
and the politicians who were guilty.
As a Christian living in a land where babies were being
killed, not secretly but openly, I,
too, was guilty by not actively defending the babies. Why,
oh, why do so
many who profess Christ fail to see their responsibility? Why do
they not
understand what abortion means? How
can they not understand it means: not only can you,
yourself, not do it, but if you know
in advance someone else is going to kill a baby, you must
step forward and actively defend that
child's life? And without regard for whatever rulers may
say because "we must obey God rather
than men." (Acts 5:29). The Bible commands us to love
our neighbor as ourselves. If a believer
knew this, but had no idea what any other verse
from the Bible says, why would not that
one thing, alone, compel him to save a child's life
from a killer's hand? (Note: I'm not
necessarily referring to bombing. I'm talking about doing
anything, actively doing something or
other!) But the Bible gets more explicit on the matter in
Proverbs 24:11,
"Rescue those being led away to death, and hold back those staggering
toward slaughter!"
How much clearer can the scriptural mandate
get? Can you believe that fewer than 2
out of 100 regular church-goers can
understand such simple words and be compelled to
respond? Ten years ago they had an excuse,
but it was a very poor one. Now they have no
excuse at all. Ten years ago they could
have said: "What do you expect me to do? There is
no organized opposition; no one else
is doing anything! What do you expect me to do all by
myself?" They
can't use this excuse anymore.
I used this excuse myself for eleven
and a half years. As often as I thought of abortion, over
the years, I always felt I should be
doing something. With every remembrance I had the
sensation that God was watching me and
noticing I wasn't doing anything to defend the
little ones. This seemed shameful. It
was shameful.
In 1984 my increasing feeling of personal
disgrace reached the breaking point and
something happened after which I couldn't
take it anymore. In 1984 I knew lots of people
who were "against" abortion in thought
and word but not in deed. I had never met anyone
who was actively involved. Whenever
I had thought of abortion, what it meant to me was
that it had to be stopped throughout
our country. We had to save all of the 1.6 million who
were being killed each year. Obviously
I could not do this alone. I had not yet come to the
realization that...it did not matter
that I, alone, could not save them all! That was no excuse
for doing nothing! It did not matter
that I could do only a little by myself. One man can do only
a little, but he has to do that little.
I had never paused to consider: if I saved even one
baby's
life....for that
one baby it would mean everything! It would mean all the world!
By the time that
baby reached 20 years of age, from his
or her perspective what I had done would not be little,
but big! All the Christmas mornings
and all the gifts given and received--they'd all be saved!
A total of 210 candles on 20 birthday
cakes--they'd all be saved! All the base hits batted out
on the little league baseball diamond,
all the home runs batted over the fence on the high
school diamond--they'd all be saved!
Save one baby and you save the whole world. But if
I saved one baby I could not then say
to myself: "There! I've done my part. I've fulfilled my
responsibility." Not as long as other
babies were threatened. I could save ten. Who knows?
--maybe I could save a hundred by the
grace of God. Before the summer of '84 I'd never
thought of these things. I did not love
that pre-born baby as myself.
Before that summer I'd known all along
something was terribly wrong. In the back of my mind
I was vaguely aware of certain truths,
but one hot summer afternoon, instantly, they became
crystal-clear. In all their clarity
these truths then rushed to my heart, and I felt them. Not only
did I know them, I felt them for the
first time. I was reading the newspaper. There was an editorial
against abortion written by syndicated
columnist Patrick J. Buchanan. Except for the Bible,
reading that column affected me like
nothing I had ever read before. It was as though translucent
scales fell from my eyes, and I saw
these truths, sharply focused for the first time. As these truths rushed
to my heart I was filled with remorse
and self-disgust, and groaned under the weight. All I
could think was to cry out to God: "Oh,
God, what is wrong with us, your people? What is wrong
with us Christians? We knew they were
going to kill babies today! We knew it beforehand!
How is it that we did not go there to
defend the children from slaughter? We have known this
was going on, every day, for all these
years! How have we been so shamefully lukewarm for so
long? We're not right! I'm not right!"
Instantly I saw many things, but the
one fact which struck me most profoundly was: a preborn
baby is a specific
individual! Irreplaceable! If at any time before that afternoon
you had asked
me whether a pre-born baby is a human
being, I would have given you the correct answer
immediately and emphatically. All along
I had known it in my head, but in my heart I'd never
felt the despair this knowledge should
bring to a genuine Christian. I had not felt the same despair
I would feel if I were in the baby's
place. I'd heard the statistics before: 1.6 million per year,
15 million since Roe vs. Wade. But such
numbers are incomprehensible. They have no face, no
name. As the villain Josef Stalin once
said: "The loss of one life is a tragedy. The loss of a million
lives is a statistic."
Statistics
are people with the blood wiped away.
Statistics are people with the blood
wiped away. I stopped thinking in terms of millions
and thought in terms of one. Suddenly
I saw this one baby, not as a faceless
stranger but as a unique, specific individual,
someone who had never lived before nor
ever shall again. Here was a baby human
being whose fingerprints no one had ever born
before nor ever would again. Here was
an individual as specific as congressman
Henry Hyde; or comedian Bob Hope; or
my mother; or my next-door neighbor, Stan; or Mary,
the young woman who lives on the next
block. If someone kills Mary, you know, we'll never be
able to see her again! To us she'll
be lost till the end of time! Here was an individual human
being as specific as you or me!
In an instant I saw that this baby, this
specific individual, is that neighbor whom I am commanded
to love as I love myself. I had to do
unto this helpless baby as I would want others to do unto me
if I were helpless and facing death
by mutilation...tomorrow! I saw that abortion, actually, is
completely illegal. I saw that an abortion
is a war crime; thus, unjust warfare; thus, war. I saw
that the condemned babies, as innocent
human beings, were worthy of defensive warfare
waged on behalf of their very lives.
I
saw that when evil doers are real zealots they cannot be
effectively opposed
by moderate Christians however greatly the Christians may outnumber
them. I
saw that when the slaughter had gone on and on for so long, it was not
only the abortionists
who were guilty, not just the "government"
that was guilty; we were all guilty!
An
abortionist cannot go on killing babies without
widespread "Christian" complicity!
This solved a mystery I had pondered
over for years. I had read the Bible in its entirety
time and again. I'd noticed that God
judges us not only as individuals: He judges
entire nations as a whole. He has been
known to condemn an entire nation and to
pour His cup of wrath out upon
it. Long I did not understand the justice of this matter.
I wondered why the Lord would punish
an entire nation when not all its inhabitants were
actively doing evil. But I accepted
it by faith, not daring to let myself suspect there
could be any injustice in Him. I thought
to myself: "I'll understand it later." Suddenly
I understood...an
abortionist cannot go on killing babies without widespread "Christian"
complicity! Not
without our acquiescence!
If a nation's rulers forbid abortion
and enforce the law, then when the crime is
committed secretly, only the abortionist
and the mother are guilty. In a nation where
blood is shed openly under "government"
auspices and unchallenged by the public,
then everyone bears guilt! Not only
the hand that wields the knife is guilty. The hand
hanging limply by the side while the
steel glitters nearby--this hand, too, is guilty! The
one refused not to do injustice, the
other refused to do justice. God is justified in
wiping away any such nation because
no form of government has ever been devised
by mankind which was so powerful it
could openly practice such evil against the
determined will of the people. The human
being has never been born; the unjust, human
king has never ascended to the throne
who was strong enough to do evil,
continuously, against the peoples' firm
will. In terms of being able to remain in office,
communism was probably the strongest
form of government yet seen, but this,
too, fell when their people had had
enough.
Not only does the Bible tell God's people
not to do injustice, but again and again it
commands us to
DO justice! Why cannot professing Christians today tell the difference?
They seem to think that by not killing
the babies themselves, that by not doing injustice,
they are actually doing justice! Passively
declining from doing an evil thing isn't the same
as actively doing what is right.
"Vindicate the weak and fatherless; do justice to the afflicted and destitute.
Rescue the weak and needy; deliver them out of the hand of the wicked."
Psalm 82:3-4 KJV
Thus says the Lord, "Do justice and righteousness, and rescue..." Jeremiah 22:3
Abortion is not a 20th century innovation.
The slaughter of the innocent has occurred
here and there, from time to time, for
thousands of years. Neither is the anti-abortion
movement new to Christianity. When earlier
generations of Christians saw the same
horrors we see today, they eventually
repented. They aggressively confronted the evil and
stopped it. Thus the Lord spared the
world from destruction until some future day (of course
He has always known which generations
of Christians would do His will and when that
generation would come which, as in the
days of Noah, would not obey). Will this generation
of church-goers ever wake up and recognize
their responsibility? "...with God all things are
possible." (Matthew 19:26)
Conduct a little experiment.
Do you think it should be easy for many
Christians today to see such a simple, self-evident truth
and feel a sense of responsibility?
Conduct a little experiment. Next Saturday go to your city's
abortion chamber where babies are killed.
That's the day activists hold their biggest demonstration.
Study the faces of all the Christian
activists there and do your best to memorize them. It won't be
heard. On the following morning randomly
select any Protestant or Catholic Church whose
congregation numbers 300 or more and
go there early so you can see each face as the
members arrive. The number of same faces
you will have seen at both places will be zero,
one, or at the most, two. Very rare
is the congregation which exceeds these figures. For a
little while before and after the service
(or mass) the attendees will stand around exchanging
pleasantries, but you will hear no expression
of grief for the 4,500 American babies who were slain
the previous day. Instead you may hear
one explain to another: "Oh, isn't this an exciting age
for us, Christians, to be living in?
The Lord will be coming back soon!"
The pastor will read a few pretty verses
from the Bible and preach a pleasant sermon on them.
Among the many passages of scripture
he will not mention, here is one I can guarantee
you will not hear:
"Woe to you who long
for the day of the Lord! Why do you long for the day of
the Lord? That day will be darkness,
not light. It will be as though a man fled from a lion
only to meet a bear, as though he entered
his house and rested his hand on the wall only
to have a snake bite him. ...I hate,
I despise your religious feasts; I cannot stand your
assemblies. Even though you bring me
burnt offerings and grain offerings, I will not accept
them. Though you bring choice fellowship
offerings, I will have no regard for them.
Away with the noise of your songs! I
will not listen to the music of your harps.
But let justice roll on like a river,
righteousness like a never-failing stream!" Amos 5:18-24 NIV
********************
Here we return, again, to our original
story with the hope our readers will forgive us for
changing the subject so often. With
the newspaper still spread before me and
Pat Buchanan's column still before my
eyes, I knew for sure the day would come,
eventually, when I would bomb abortuaries,
but I couldn't wait until then to start
doing something. I saw that a bombing
was not for the spur of the moment, but would
take a while. I didn't know where to
get explosives, and such a mission would
require careful planning, including
surveillance work. But mainly it would take a while
to overcome the fear of doing it. In
the book I'm writing and perhaps in a future
issue of this report I'll explain how
I overcame the fear. For now, though, I'll just say the
fear never went away. I just had to
learn to use the fear. I discovered a way
to turn the fear in on itself; in other
words I disciplined my heart till I reached the point where,
though I was still afraid to do it,
I was even more afraid not to do it. I put myself in the baby's
place, reminding myself I had to love
that baby as myself. "My arms will be torn away from
my torso tomorrow! My skull will be
crushed until fragments cave inward and cut into my brain!"
I imagined how terrible the physical
pain would be! I thought of my right arm being
dismembered, and as I thought of it,
I bore in mind that my arm would not be taken off
cleanly with a sharp surgical instrument
while under anesthesia. No, it would be brutally
torn out of the shoulder socket and
twisted off! It would hurt so bad! But I did not think only of the
terrible physical pain. I imagined the
mental horror and terror of looking at my right
shoulder, and my right arm is gone!
And blood is gushing out where it had been! So the
dread of merely dying in less than 24
hours was only a small part of the fear. It
was the torture, agony, and terror through
which I would be put to death! If I, like the baby,
was going to suffer so much and then
die tomorrow morning, and I knew I
was being killed unjustly, I would not
be too afraid to go to the death chamber with
gasoline and destroy it tonight. I would
be more afraid of not doing it than of going
ahead and doing it. So I reasoned that
if I loved that baby as myself, I should be too afraid
of not doing it. I forced myself to
feel these things. I saw it as my Christian duty to feel them.
That's how I learned to make fear work
for me instead of against me. I felt sorry for the baby,
so the fear pushed me forward instead
of holding me back. What if I faced the threat the
baby is facing but, also like the baby,
I was helpless to defend my life? If I had to depend
on others to defend me, how would I
want them to do it? What would I want these others to
do unto me? Well, that's what I had
to do unto that baby, because I loved that baby.
I wasn't going to go into so much detail
about how I overcame fear, but now I've gone
ahead and explained it pretty thoroughly,
so I may not mention it again in any
future issue or add more in the book
to what I've already said about it. I will, though,
describe another thing, a different
fear that helped to compel me. But it was not a
fear that I'd go to hell if I didn't
bomb or burn abortuaries. And it certainly was not fear
of what people would think of me if
I got caught. The Lord would know I did it
because I love that baby, and that's
good enough for me. If anybody else didn't like
it--that's tough.
These things (really loving the baby
and using fear for the child's safety as a positive
motivation) I did not understand right
away on the day I read that column. On that
summer afternoon the instant, irreversible
decision to destroy abortuaries on some
future nights was based on a sense of
proportionality. The only problem was that the
proportionality of this use of force
was being applied to the wrong factor. I still did not
really love the baby as myself. The
earnestness to destroy these terrible places
and the understanding that arson and/or
bombing would not be disproportionately too
severe a response to child-killing were
based only on the recognition of the severe
degree of the abortionist's injustice
and the severity of the threat this criminal posed to the child.
As soon as we mention the proportionality
of destroying an abortuary, probably all our
regular readers know exactly what we
mean without further explanation. But since so
many of our friends make copies of our
reports to pass along to non-activists in their
congregations or parishes, we should
perhaps offer a brief illustration.
If a certain class
of people were denied the right to sit in a certain restaurant, I would
not bomb that restaurant.
Such a response would be disproportionately too severe in
relationship to the
circumstances. No one in this class of people would die because
of being barred from
the restaurant. So the injustice would be much less severe than
abortion, which kills
people. So the lesser injustice could appropriately be countered
by picketing or sit-ins.
Furthermore, if, by these lesser intensity responses, we
persuade the restaurant
owner to change his policy and let these people in, then this
lesser injustice
will have been completely reversed. Since the previous
discrimination
did not cause these
people to die, now these same particular individuals can go in and
eat. But with abortion
the injustice done is irreversible. Even if we persuade the abortionist
not to kill any more
babies, the babies who are already dead cannot come back and live
again! Slight injustice--mild
response. Severe injustice--severe response. Urgent threat--
urgent response.
Proportionality.
********************
As already mentioned, as soon as I had
read Mr. Buchanan's column I knew I would
eventually come against these targets
with destructive force, but that such operations would
be put off for a while. Yet I felt so
badly about having delayed for so long to take up the cause,
that I had to start doing something,
however small, right away. I threw the newspaper aside and
grabbed the phone book. Since I didn't
know any activists the only thing I could think of to do
was to call the Cincinnati Right to
Life Committee's office. I'd never heard of any other pro-life
organization. An elderly-sounding lady
answered the phone. I told her: "I can't take it any more!
I can't stand the killing! What can
I do to help?"
She asked what would I be willing to
do? Typing? Answering the phone? Public speaking?
(words! mere words!)
I blurted out: "I'm willing to do anything!
In fact, I'm willing to do things you might not even
want me to do!" (I was right. After
the fires in Cincinnati, the Right to Life Committee put out a
$1,000 reward for information leading
to my arrest!)
There was a nervous little laughter on
the other end of the line. She took my name, address
and phone number, but I never heard
back from them.
A year and a few months passed before
I lit that first fire. In the book I'll describe some of what
happened in the mean time. But in concluding
this issue I really should describe a couple incidents
of this period because the lessons I
learned by them are so crucial. The following spring I was given
the name and phone number of someone
whom, I was given assurance, felt the same as me.
I spoke to this man over the phone only
twice and have never met him face-to-face. His first name
was Dave. I do not remember the last.
Because he was a stranger and because the conversation
was over the phone no mention of bombing
or any such matter was made. It was not Dave's
intention to teach me any new thing.
To this day he doesn't know how profoundly he affected
my life. Thanks, Dave, wherever you
are, if this issue should fall into your hands.
Over the phone Dave told me:
"John, every day, when I pray for the babies, I pray that
when the abortionists kill them they will die quickly so they
don't have to suffer very long."
Dave's words struck me like a bolt of
lightning! Of course! How had I been so stupid?! So unthinking?
I still had not loved the baby as myself!
I had not been feeling sorry for the baby; I was only furious
over the magnitude of the injustice!
The Lord told the "expert" in the law that the second greatest
commandment was: "Thou shalt love thy
neighbor as thyself." (Matt. 22:37 KJV). I had already
irrevocably decided to destroy the places
where babies are killed...but only because of outrage
over the enormity of the injustice...not
because I loved the baby as myself! I really had to love the
baby! I had to make sure before I approached
the abortuaries at night with gasoline or
explosives that I was walking in love,
not just anger. At the same time I remembered
I Corinthians 13:2-3:
"...and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and
have not charity,
I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though
I give my
body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing."
What?! I was planning to act, on the
baby's behalf, in such a way that I might die and my
body be burned, but since I wasn't being
motivated by love it would profit me
nothing! Boy, that would be a bad deal
for me! Before I went out on those nights I would
have to be sure it was because I loved
that baby! I had to discipline my heart
to love that baby and feel sorry for
him or here as Dave did. That's when I started going
through the mental gymnastics I've already
described when I told how I overcame fear
by imagining and feeling the baby's
pain and horror. So I saw I owed it not only to the child,
but to myself, to love him or her. Still
I had not learned the most important lesson of all. Still!
Not long after talking to Dave I was
given the name of another anti-abortion activist, Joe Luken.
Finally, after being alone in my feelings
for several months, I would meet my first fellow activist
face to face! Joe invited me over and
we regaled each other for hours. He told me,
"Man, you're the first one I've met
who's really gung-ho!"
He told me about a group of demonstrators
who would be at the abortuary on Vine Street
(Cincinnati) the coming Saturday. I
was so excited by the idea of meeting a whole group
of people like myself, however small,
and actually doing something, I kept asking him:
"Are you sure they'll be there, Joe?
Are you sure?" He replied: "Pretty sure.
Well, yeah, I'm positive, 'cause they're there
every Saturday."
Then Joe pulled out some literature with
graphic photos of slaughtered babies and
handed them to me. I'd never seen such
horror. I cried out: "Oh, God, oh, Dear God,
oh, Jesus, oh, Jesus!"
Joe said, "I know how you feel. I felt
the same way when I first saw them. Imagine how
God feels when He sees this! He sees
an abortion even while it is
happening!"
Joe's words struck me like another bolt
of lightning. Of course! Would I never stop discovering
how stupid I had been? In all this I
still had not considered the anguish
in the Lord's Sacred Heart! I had already
begun disciplining my heart to love the baby,
but this would fulfill only the second
greatest commandment!
One of them, an expert in the law, tested Him with this question:
"Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?"
Jesus replied: "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and
with all your soul and with all your mind." This is the first and greatest
commandment. And the second is like it: "Love your neighbor
as yourself." All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two
commandments." Matt. 22:35-40 NIV
On those future nights when I would come
against our nation's enemies, I must first
make sure I had both love for the baby
and love for God in my heart! I had to try
to share His anguish and be motivated
by a desire to keep some of it from Him. It
would be important to be sure I was
doing the right thing, but even more important to
be sure I was doing it for the right
reasons. Now I saw that I owed it first to the Lord,
secondly to the baby, and thirdly, even,
to myself, to be motivated by love for the
first two.
As I meditated on these things a question
arose in my mind. I've never been able to
answer it with a feeling of certainty,
but the answer is of no consequence for the
baby's sake or for mine. I'm merely
curious. The Lord sees everyone. He sees the
condemned baby who will never have the
chance to go to church. He also sees
tens of millions
of regular church-goers whose hearts are not moved by pity enough
to rescue the
child from slaughter. What I wonder: is the
Lord more broken-hearted over
the babies who
die such terrible deaths, or over the millions of church-going men who
allow
the children to
be slain and who refuse to see? I don't know if I'll have the certain
answer
to this within my lifetime. Someday
I'll know. We'll all know.
"Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror. Then we shall see face
to face.
Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.
And
these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is
love."
1 Cor. 13:12-13 NIV
At the end of time the Lord Jesus will
say to you: "I tell you the truth, whatever you did for
one of the least of these brothers of
mine, you did for me."
Till the next issue I'm Yours'-in-Christ,
Johnny
Genesis 9:6
Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by
man shall his blood be shed:
for in the image of God made he
man.
Numbers
35:33 So ye shall not pollute the land wherein ye are:
for blood it defileth the land:
and the land cannot be cleansed of the
blood that is shed therein, but
by the blood of him that shed it.
E-mail:
Glory2Jesus@ArmyofGod.com
Telephone 1-757-204-4454
Or write to: Rev. Donald Spitz
Pro-Life Virginia
P.O. Box 2876
Chesapeake VA 23327
