On the Closing of an Abortion Clinic
The Humble Calling of the Pro-Life Church
This week, my past and my present collided. I went to downtown Louisville in order to film fresh content for an exciting pro-life project with my employer, the James Dobson Family Institute (JDFI). The location was unusual but fitting: the now-empty EMW Women’s Surgical Center. For many years, this was Louisville’s abortion clinic.
When I worked at Boyce College a decade ago, I sometimes went on Friday morning to this very place. Some courageous believers had started a pro-life ministry that did “sidewalk counseling” to abortion-minded women. The purpose of the ministry was to encourage these women to choose life. The ministry was challenging, frankly. Many women entering the clinic were quite convinced of their “right” to abort their baby. They did not want to hear otherwise.
There were also orange-vest-wearing “escorts” at the clinic. They would typically stand in the entryway as seen in the picture above. If you see the white “No Trespassing” zone, they would police that sharply. A number of them were very invested in the cause of death, and they relished the opportunity to put their pro-choice convictions to work.
The EMW Women’s Surgical Center was, in short, a very dark place. It was an outpost of evil. Being back there brought back a wave of memories. You were watched at every turn; your presence was seen as hostile. I haven’t been on that sidewalk for nearly ten years, but as we recorded video, I had to fight the instinct to look over my shoulder. I kept expecting someone to come out of those doors, yell at me, and communicate hostility and even hatred to me.
But no one came out. The clinic used to hum with evil activity. Now it sat dormant, and stayed that way. It seemed impossible to me, mentally. Surely there was still someone in there? Surely teen girls would be showing up, head down, headphones on, hurrying toward the murder of their tiny child? Surely the “escorts” would advance aggressively toward me, mocking or bellowing something?
Nothing. No one went in. No one left. Silence. It was as strange as could be. I scarcely knew what to do. It felt too good to be true: this clinic had really closed as of June 2022, with the overturning of Roe v. Wade? That seemed an unimaginable dream a decade ago. The culture of death had seemingly captured America. The cause of life was, if not lost, then severely outgunned and outmanned.
It surely felt that way on cold Friday mornings. Some weeks several evangelical Christians showed up for sidewalk counseling. That was heartening. But other weeks, it was down to a couple of us alongside the ever-present red-haired Catholic lady. Her name was Donna, I believe. She was in her upper 80s then, but she kept showing up, morning after morning.
Donna was a lovely person, but I always felt saddened knowing how many Baptists were in Louisville, and yet how few seemed invested in the pro-life cause. Of course, I did not think for a moment that every Christian must stand outside abortion clinics to follow Jesus. That’s not true in the least. However, it surprised me how little investment there was among doctrinally-minded believers in the cause of life.
As 2024 closes, things have shifted remarkably in America. Abortion is no longer a court-supported right at the federal level, praise God. In a few weeks, a Republican takes presidential office again. Clinics like the EMW Women’s Surgical Center have closed all across America. Young people seem more interested in the gospel and Christianity. Athletes are offering powerful testimony to faith in Christ. All this is encouraging to see, and quite shocking in certain ways.
But there is much more work to do. Further, there are not many ministries that want to take a clear and unapologetic pro-life stand. At JDFI, we do. We believe that we need to do our part to rally Christians to defeat abortion once and for all. We dare to dream big. We walk in the path cut for us by figures like William Wilberforce, after all. In fighting slavery and the slave trade, Wilberforce did not think small. He prayed, strategized, legislated, networked, and campaigned tirelessly over 40 years to overcome slavery in Britain. In the end, by the grace of God, he succeeded.
That amazing legacy influences us at JDFI. In 2025, we want to do our part to summon the church once more to help the weak. Who, after all, is weaker than a tiny baby in the womb? The second greatest commandment is to love our neighbor. We must love these little ones. We must welcome them to life. We must strengthen the family—even beyond ending abortion—so that children are cared for and loved.
These are some of our ambitions at JDFI. As 2024 gives way to 2025, would you consider supporting our work? We are not in business for ourselves. We exist to speak into marriage, the family, public policy, and culture. We seek to do so from a gospel-driven perspective; in terms of our manner, we pray to be marked by grace and truth as Jesus was (John 1:14, 17). We do not hate those who disagree with us; we love them, even as we must stand against the lies they currently believe, lies that spread death, disaster, and ruin to sinners deceived by Satan.
In late January 2025, we will release—totally free—a new pro-life resource. We pray it will encourage many believers to stand for life, to speak for the voiceless, and to overcome abortion in this country once and for all. We have much more coming, but this is our next major project at the Dobson Culture Center. Perhaps you can help strengthen us as we try to put this pro-life content before many people.
As I stood on the sidewalk in downtown Louisville a few days ago, I marveled at how humble it all felt. The air was very cold. Trucks barreled by, interrupting our recording over and over. We were shooting videos, but who would end up watching them? What revolutionary insights was I bringing to the table to stir fellow believers to love and good deeds? None, it turns out.
But as I have reflected on this humble undertaking, I am reminded of a similarly lowly project. It kicked off nearly 2,000 years ago. Jesus was born for sinners like us in the most common of settings. Everything about his incarnation was draped in obscurity, anonymity, and ordinariness. If you had grown up across the street from Jesus, you would not have watched him in excitement, mouth open. You would have observed a normal-seeming young man going about his business.
Yet at just the right time, Jesus began his ministry. It was a revolution of humility (Phil. 2:5-8). The Son served through word and action, and then showed himself the true embodiment of the Suffering Servant of Isaiah’s prophecy. He served us by dying for us, the warrior-savior crucified for those who hate him. Then, three days later, he rose from the dead. He promptly met back up with his disciples and ate breakfast with them, the most elemental of events (John 21). Then, he ascended to glory.
What is the point here? The point is this: God loves the humble, ordinary, and even lowly. God loves to bless servant-minded faith. God uses the common. God works through the simple. The lesson for us in Scripture, time and again, is that our cleverness, skill, gifting, and planning does not carry the day. Christ’s kingdom does not advance, relentlessly and unstoppably, through our ingenuity. It advances by the Spirit, and the Spirit very often works through the despised, the quiet, even the suffering vessel.
We dream of a day when abortion, like chattel slavery, is no more in the West. Perhaps we will see that day. Until then, we recommit ourselves to the humble and faithful work of the kingdom of Christ. We do so knowing, in this Christmas season that leads into the new year, that everything depends upon God. The rescue of the lost, the defense of the defenseless, and the salvation of the world is not upon our shoulders.
It is all on the strong shoulders of the Son of God. He will not fail us. He is up to a great deal; Aslan is most definitely on the move. That, it turns out, was the final takeaway from my strange recording session for JDFI. It was unusual not to have a host of opposition forces, yes. But as we shot videos, I could not shake another feeling—a very different one. It felt, in a visceral way, like someone else had recently been here.
This someone, I hasten to add, is not just anyone. This someone is Someone. By this I mean that it was as if Christ the king had recently showed up at EMW Women’s Surgical Center. It was as if he said “enough is enough,” and closed the doors of this barbaric facility. It was as if he rose up, and roared over his creation, and reminded his church and all the watching world that a day is coming—a day is already fixed—on which not merely a lone clinic but the entire world will be made right.
On that day, sin will flee the earth. The unrepentant will try to hide from the glorious presence of the King. The devil will gnash his teeth one last time. And then, the King will speak a word, just a single word, and the furious omnipotence of heaven will smash into all the arrayed forces of darkness, and they will be vanquished, and Satan will be destroyed, and sin will be scourged from the earth, and we the church of Christ will begin our eternal worship session.
We will cry out in unrestrained and thoroughly un-self-conscious praise of the Lamb. We will hear the amplified words of Revelation 21:3–4, a thundering declaration that will swell into every reach of the cosmos:
And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”
Amen. Come, Lord Jesus. Until then, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, friends.