Let’s face it, people don’t always agree with us. That’s a fact of life my parents taught me growing up. Even later, in the different facets of my career, from large multinational corporations to local small businesses, my dad and I would talk about those sorts of relationships. With Father’s Day having just passed, he’s been on my mind (like just about everyone else!), and I’ve been missing him since 2020.
The nature of many of those conversations changed when I left the business world and entered vocational ministry. Suffice it to say, he and I did not share common theological views, though we did share an enjoyment in discussing those differing views. I’d have thought his counsel to people would have changed too, but I was wrong on that. He always encouraged me to have a dialogue with people with whom I differ. He’d prefer to do that in person. “Folks behave differently in person than they do over the phone,” he’d say.
Dad always tinkered, and back in the 1980s and 90s, he even had a hobby of building his own computers. He found a certain joy in understanding how they worked and putting them together. He got away from that when the cost differential became so great between buying a complete system, including all the software that came with a new machine, and buying individual components and assembling them, and then installing the operating system and other software.
By the time social media came along, he was nearing retirement, though not by choice. When the housing market crashed in 2008, and the economy went into recession, his company downsized, and his job was eliminated. He’d have preferred to remain in the workforce, but by the time the economy improved, there was no place for him, and he was 70 years old. Begrudgingly, he entered retirement. Our conversations remained robust and deep and, by this time, included a healthy dose of theology.
I would have liked to chat with him about the recent events in my family. He was always interested in the different opportunities God had blessed me with to serve. He would have been especially interested in the opportunity to serve as a member of the Committee on Resolutions at this year’s Southern Baptist Convention. No doubt he’d have had thoughts on the resolutions that were brought to the messengers for their consideration. I can hear his voice, “some pretty weighty stuff your committee is considering.”
He found Southern Baptist polity a bit confusing (who doesn’t at times?) but knew we vote on many, many things, including resolutions. He understood those pretty well after I explained the process at the state level during my service here in Georgia in 2020. He passed away before the Georgia Baptist Convention that year, but he was aware I’d been asked to serve and understood (more or less) how the process works.
I can just imagine the conversation we’d have had reflecting on the SBC this year! Of course, the resolutions that were brought to the messengers were indeed weighty and have garnered outsized attention. Well, one in particular which would be the resolution that spoke to the ethical realities of reproductive technologies and the dignity of the human embryo. While it didn’t break any new ground in terms of the pro-life position of Southern Baptists, well established since the 1970s, it was the first time a resolution that included language addressing in vitro fertilization (IVF).
Earlier this year, the Alabama Supreme Court handed down a ruling addressing this very procedure which is directly related to the reason a resolution was submitted for consideration. After deep, detailed discussions and lengthy prayer, a very somber committee unanimously agreed we should humbly move forward with the resolution that had been submitted, and so we began our work. Now, I understand Dad would want to know details about that process, but he would understand when I explained those were private deliberations. The work product that resulted speaks for itself and would be weighed by the messengers.
The attention the resolution drew was not surprising, nor was the emotions surrounding it. During the time it was being considered by messengers, I found myself on the front row with our committee on the platform with tears flowing as I listened to messengers speak for and against the resolution. Their stories were deeply moving; how could they not be? Still, I knew we had faithfully done what we’d been appointed to do and that it was time to trust the Lord and the messengers with the results of that work.
It passed, and from the platform, it appeared to do so by a very comfortable margin. As the convention began to wind down, I was grateful for that group of people God had brought together for the task. Godly, humble, committed to serving the Southern Baptist Convention, and fully trusting that the decisions about all these resolutions lay with them, not with our committee.
There has been a lot of media surrounding the IVF resolution, including social media posts. Some of those have been supportive, some have been less so, and some have been outright hostile. Personally, I expected a very emotional response, and even some of those responses were personal. I don’t regret that and don’t regret sharing my gratitude for the opportunity to serve. Of those folks who are angry, Dad would probably say something like, “Talk to them, or at least try.” At some point, I’d mention Romans 12:18, which would lead us down another theological rabbit hole altogether.
Something he said years ago still stands out. People behave differently in person, so try to talk with them (and I do!). I sure do wish I could talk with my dad right now.