The Horrible Case of Dr. Gosnell and the Forgotten Ones

[Trigger warning: abortion, murder, disturbing graphic details of Gosnell’s crimes]

In the last week, the Internet has been blowing up with shock, horror and outrage over the murder trial of Dr. Kermit Gosnell. A late term abortionist in Lancaster, Penn., Gosnell is on trial in Philadelphia for performing gruesome and illegal late-term abortions that led to death of a woman and seven infants (though in reality, he’s responsible for killing far, far more). During the trial, former employees provided gruesome testimony detailing how Dr. Gosnell frequently and illegally delivered live, viable babies in their 3^rd trimester of pregnancy and then murdered them by severing their heads with scissors. The grand jury report also details how his unlicensed staff illegally administered potentially lethal amounts of drugs to patients, how venereal disease was spread among his patients by reusing unsanitary disposable instruments, and even how he punctured and perforated wombs and bowels leading to the death of at least one woman. The conditions of the clinic can be described as a house of horrors; and according to the grand jury report, when public health officials searched the clinic, “the search team discovered fetal remains haphazardly stored throughout the clinic – in bags, milk jugs, orange juice cartons, and even in cat-food containers.” This place of horrors was Gosnell’s daily business.

 

Christian Culture: Balancing Grace with Truth in the Post-Eden World

In a past post entitled ‘Culture Wars, Homophobic Chickens and a Net Loss of Yards‘, I posited that the evangelical community missed an opportunity to effectively demonstrate the balance of love & grace with biblical truth (relative to the Chic fil A ‘homophobic chicken sandwich’ media coverage from September of 2012).  In this post, I tried (perhaps ineffectively) to suggest that the evangelical community falters in demonstrating the message of the gospel in that: (a) We did not really listen to others, (b) We lost our priorities, (c) We did not demonstrate grace and love.

Just this morning, a friend sent me the following email:

 

“Chronicle” (2012): A One-Minute Film Review

Sometimes, for reasons we cannot fully explain, a film succeeds in ways that neither we, nor the studio, honestly expect.  If you want a great example of just this sort of phenomena, look no further that the recently released and poorly named, Chronicle.  Shot on an almost ridiculously low budget by a director whose only previous experience was on cable television, it was released in the dead of winter – a time slot usually reserved for films that will soon be making their debut appearance in the remainder bins of your local Walmart.

But Chronicle smartly rises above its humble budget and its inauspicious release date by offering something unusual: a nuanced psychological profile of a teenager struggling to rise above the ruins of his home life.  Mashing up the “found footage” and super-hero genres, it wisely avoids the rote stereotypes often found in films of this nature, and instead gives us a briskly paced meditation upon humiliation, empowerment, hubris, and naked aggression.

By the time this pleasant little treat reaches its unexpected climax, the viewer is left wondering whether this might just be one of the more honest portraits of teenaged American life in the 21^st century.  While the films are miles apart in tonality, one couldn’t help but think back to Diablo Cody’s Juno, an equally insightful look into the mind of modern adolescence.

If you are a fan of the unusual and/or unexpected, I would strongly recommend seeing this film, in spite of its terrible title and its less-than-inspired marketing campaign.  This is the kind of film that heralds the arrival of a new talent, and I for one will be eagerly waiting in line when the creators of this film release their next work.

 

This film has been rated PG-13 by the MPAA for: intense action and violence, thematic material, some language and teenage drinking.

 

Voices in the Static: Rising Out of Abuse

If you’ve been around this site for a while now, you now that I have recently started a series called “Voices in the Static.”  It’s a series that’s all about learning how to listen to voices that are often drowned out in our society.  It’s not about racing in with answers; and it’s not about debate.  It’s about figuring out how to quiet oneself long enough to let the story of another human being rise to the surface.

Recently, I had the opportunity to sit with a man who has been verbally, emotionally and spiritually abused.  And while his present circumstances are such that he is no longer subject to his abuser, he is not yet free to discuss the nature of what happened to him.  So today, there is no interview, no exchange of ideas, no dialog for you to sit in on.  But what I can share with you are these thoughts that I wrote to him in the aftermath of our time together.  And maybe, just maybe, through my faltering words, you will hear the faintest echo of his voice.  And in so hearing, maybe, just maybe, you will choose to stand up for justice on behalf of those that cannot.

 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Dear Friend,

I keep trying to start this email, and my words just fail me … I’ve been up all night, and I haven’t stopped thinking about everything we’ve discussed.  Mostly, I keep thinking about you and your story.  I have no words to express my sorrow.  All I can say is that I have worked very closely with children who were in very dark places; and as I sat there, listening to you talk about your nightmares and about your self-confidence that was shattered …  you brought me to tears in the same way that those kids used to bring me to tears.  I don’t know if you saw it in my eyes as we sat there talking, but the tears were there.  And even as I write this to you, the tears are still there, only now they are flowing freely.

I know that you already know this, but we serve a God who grieves.  And to me, that matters.  It’s one of the reasons I worship Him.  It’s one of the things that I adore about Him.  He is not stoic, He is not dispassionate … He bleeds just as you and I bleed.  And He cries just as you I have cried.  And so, as I write this, I find myself thinking about your story and the stories of others who have suffered like you; and I find myself praying: “Lord, comfort them now, even as they continue to heal.  Remind them that they are made in your image, and that as such, they have immeasurable worth, regardless of what they have been told, regardless of how they have been manipulated.”

Just recently, you told me that no matter what comes of our discussions, something was gained because people had gathered to talk about things that really matter.  I’m here this morning to tell you that something else was gained.  You gained a friend.  While you already had my trust and my admiration, you gained my heart as well – my heart and my willful, freely-chosen decision to be your friend.  And so, if there is ever anything that I can do to serve you, I want you to know that I am here as your brother in Christ.”