Hunter Biden and a Father's Pardon

Last Monday, US President Joe Biden carried out a presidential duty for the final time when he pardoned two Turkeys, Peach and Blossom. The tradition of a President pardoning a turkey in the run up to Thanksgiving has its roots in the American Civil War, when Abraham Lincoln agreed to a request from his son to spare a turkey named Jack.

As President Biden pardoned the turkeys, there was lots of smiling and laughter. The mood was quite different a few days later however, as Biden did something he had repeatedly promised not to – and issued a post-Thanksgiving pardon to his son Hunter.

As recently as June, Biden said he would ‘not pardon’ his son. who was facing sentencing in two criminal cases on federal gun charges and federal tax evasion charges. Hunter, the first child of a sitting president to be criminally convicted, faced hearings later this month and potentially 17 years behind bars.

In July, the President’s spokesperson denied rumours that a pardon had been discussed: ‘It’s still a no, it will be a no, it is a no and I don’t have anything else to add. Will he pardon his son? No.’ Back then, there was still an election on the horizon, and Biden was still the Democratic candidate. Now, with just 50 days left in office, he has nothing to lose.

Will returning President Donald Trump follow suit and pardon some of those involved in the Capitol riots on January 6, 2021? Biden’s decision makes it easier for him to do so.

People are understandably outraged. CNN legal analyst Elie Honig said that the pardon will ‘tarnish Joe Biden’s legacy…he lied to us for a long time.’

Yet many of the same people who are outraged by Biden’s behaviour (or who will be outraged if Trump follows suit) expect God to do the same thing. The German poet Henrich Heine was asked by a priest on his deathbed if he expected God to forgive him. He is reported to have replied: ‘Of course God will forgive me; that's his job’. That is still a common attitude today: People may be less sure whether there is a God or not – but they are confident that if he exists, he’ll forgive them.  

This attitude is sadly reinforced at many funerals, where those present are assured that the deceased is now in heaven, despite them having had no time for God and never asking for forgiveness. President Biden declared in May that ‘no one is above the law’. It’s a sentiment most of us agree with – yet somehow we expect God to act differently.

At this time of year, many people remember Jesus coming into the world. But why did he come? As Tim Keller memorably put it, Jesus came so that God could end evil without ending us. Jesus’ death was not a tragic accident – it was the very reason he came. God tells us that ‘all have sinned’ – and ‘the wages of sin is death’ (Romans 3:23; 6:23). But on the cross Jesus paid that penalty, so that his people could go free.

Could God not just have forgiven us without Jesus having to come and die? In other words, could he not have let our wrong thoughts, motivations, words and actions go unpunished? The news headlines show we don’t think much of a human ruler who does the same. We wouldn’t want God turning a blind eye to those who sin against us or those we love – so why should it be different when it comes to our own wrongs? Certainly, God is love – but that doesn’t mean he will set aside his own law. Instead, he did something better. Jesus’ death displayed both God’s righteousness and justice (‘this was to show his righteousness…so that he might be just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus’ – Romans 3:25-26).

The carol Hark the Herald Angels Sing describes the wonder of what Jesus coming into the world brings: ‘God and sinners reconciled’. That reconciliation was not cheap, however. Jesus, as the carol goes on to say, was ‘born that man no more may die’. For that to be possible, he would have to go to the cross. And if God, unlike Joe Biden, would not even pardon his own Son (as he bore his peoples’ sins) – how could we expect him simply to pardon us?

The good news of the gospel is that the price has been paid – all we have to do is believe.

Published in the Stranraer & Wigtownshire Free Press, 5th December 2024.

Let’s not fix the NHS by killing the patients

The NHS is 76 years old – and crumbling. How can waiting lists be cut, and the whole system made more efficient? As someone who has been on a waiting list since January, I have more than just a theoretical interest in the question. Wouldn’t the whole thing be a lot more efficient if there were less people in the system? One shortcut to achieving that may turn out to be ‘assisted dying’. Liam McArthur MSP introduced such a bill here in March, which will be discussed soon. South of the border, Keir Starmer seems ready to fast-track a similar one through the Commons. It would give adults who are terminally ill, with a life expectancy of less than six months, an option to end their lives with medical assistance.

Starmer is ’personally committed’ to changing the law and voted to do so in 2015. Other key figures in his party are less sure. The justice secretary, Shabana Mahmood, has said it is a dangerous ideas which she couldn’t back. According to a 2020 British Medical Association survey, only 10 percent of palliative care doctors would prescribe drugs to assist suicide, while 76 percent would not. The 2,500-year-old Hippocratic Oath – long considered the gold standard of medical ethics – contains the pledge: ‘Neither will I administer a poison to anybody when asked to do so, nor will I suggest such a course’. It certainly seems ironic that, just a few years after the world shut down to protect the vulnerable, medics could be given authority to help end the lives of some of the same people.

It can’t be denied that the end of some lives causes intense distress both for the individual and their family. Change certainly seems to be in the air. The Royal College of Physicians ended its opposition to changing the law in 2019, with the British Medical Association following suit in 2021. The Royal College of Surgeons of England moved to a neutral position in 2023. 

So what objection can there be to letting people end their suffering?

One obvious one is the pressure it would put on the vulnerable and unsure to end their own lives. There’s the danger of pressure from unscrupulous relatives or those who can’t bear the suffering of their loved one. The terminally ill patient may be frightened of becoming a burden on their family. A desire to ‘Protect the NHS’ may lead to the frail and elderly sacrificing themselves to the great national healthcare god. In Oregon, 50% of those who chose assisted suicide in 2019 cited ‘being a burden on family, friends or caregivers’. Significantly fewer – 33% - gave ‘Inadequate pain control’ as a reason to end their life. Writing in the Times, Matthew Parris suggest this is a good thing: ‘“Your time is up” will never be an order, but may one day be the kind of unspoken hint that everybody understands’. 

Another objection is what has happened in other countries. In short there is no country that has gone down this road that has not either relaxed, or faced pressure to relax, its criteria. In Canada, Physician-Associated Euthanasia (PAE) has been legal since 2016. Initially it was for those over 18 with a ‘grievous and irremediable medical condition…with death reasonably foreseeable’. In 2019, the Superior Court of Quebec ruled that it was unconstitutional to restrict access only to those at the end of life. In 2027 it will be widened out to include anyone with a mental illness. Cancer patients are encouraged to go down the assisted dying route rather than have treatment that might prolong a good quality of life. In the Netherlands, euthanasia with parental consent is allowed for children with life threatening conditions over the age of 12 years and under the age of 1. 

The biggest objection, however, is that life is not ours to take. An article in ‘The Bulletin of the Royal College of Surgeons of England’ states that ‘If a clinician did not create a life, it may be difficult for them to feel comfortable ending it’. Why is assisting suicide illegal in our country? Surely it stems from a belief that human beings are made in the image of God – or at least a sense that we are somehow different from animals. That doesn’t mean that Christians don’t pray at times for God to take them home to Heaven – but ultimately we do not give ourselves life and so have no right to take it. Our times are in his hands.

Published in the Stranraer & Wigtownshire Free Press, 3rd October 2024.

Pride, Apostasy, and Finding our Identity

Which religion has more holy days than the Catholic Church? According to secular lesbian feminist Kathleen Stock OBE it is the ‘increasingly empty religion’ of Pride. Writing in the Times at the beginning of Pride Month in June, Stock noted that with its dedicated days, crusader pennants, mystical symbols and elaborate robes, the religious nature of Pride is hard to miss.

Religions have their apostates and heretics – those who once believed, or whose beliefs are deemed unacceptable by their community. Stock, formerly Professor of Philosophy in Sussex, is one of these – a lesbian herself, but now a persona non-gratia in the LGBT community. Those like her are ‘ideologically excluded’ from the Pride movement ‘because of their “antiquated” beliefs about the importance of biological sex to the definition of sexual orientation’.

Concerns from such ‘heretics and apostates’ have only grown since the publication of the Cass Review into gender identity services in England was published in April. In her review of NHS services, Dr Hilary Cass noted that what would have been ‘considered normal clinical practice when working with other groups of children and young people’ risked attracting allegations of ‘conversion practice’ when it came to transgenderism.

Addressing young people directly, she said: ‘I have been disappointed by the lack of evidence on the long-term impact of taking hormones from an early age; research has let us all down, most importantly you’. While ‘tragically deaths by suicide in trans people of all ages continue to be above the national average, there is no evidence that gender-affirmative treatments reduce this’.

She also noted that ‘there are few other areas of healthcare where professionals are so afraid to openly discuss their views, where people are vilified on social media, and where name-calling echoes the worst bullying behaviour’. 

Are those who share such concerns welcome at Pride marches? The organisers of Pride in London have made clear they are not. In 2018, a group of women carrying placards such as ‘lesbian = female homosexual’ were denounced by the march’s organisers as ‘shocking and disgusting’, and demonstrating ‘a level of bigotry, ignorance and hate that is unacceptable’.

This, combined with the ‘sausage fest’ (Stock’s phrase) nature of Pride events means that ‘while straight women seem to treat the day as a kind of thrillingly exotic safari, lesbians, especially those with children, can get quite jaded by the outrageousness and kink’. 

Like any religion, there will also be those who try to exploit such movements for their own purposes. Stephen Ireland, the founder of Pride in Surrey – and patron of a now-defunct government-funded gender identity group – was remanded in custody last month facing multiple counts of child sex abuse. 

Above all, Pride comes closest to a religion in its desire to proclaim what defines us. As a pastor, however, I find its definition too narrow. I want to be free to refuse to define people by their sexual orientation. Our sexuality is a God-given component of who we are – but it is to limit human dignity to define us by it.

There’s nothing new here. From the beginning of time, human beings have tried to find our identity in things which aren’t of ultimate significance: work, reputation, money, success, sport, health, a relationship, children, politics, good deeds. 

None of these things are wrong in and of themselves, but they are too small to build our identity on. They can’t bear the weight of all our hopes and dreams. Rather, they will collapse under that weight and crush us with them. If work is our identity, what happens when we lose our job, or retire? If our children become our identity, what happens when they disappoint us – or no longer have time for us?

How then should we define ourselves? Simply as human beings made in the image of God. Rather than looking to created things for meaning and significance, we should look to the Creator.

Doing so takes courage as it will reveal areas in which we fall short of his good design for our lives. But only by doing so will we be ready to hear the hope of the gospel. That hope is found in the one person who never put his trust in created things – Jesus Christ. And yet in the end he was crushed – not by putting his identity in the wrong thing – but by God himself.

Why? So that we might not be.

‘He was crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
and with his wounds we are healed’.

Published in the Stranraer & Wigtownshire Free Press, 5th September 2024

The Paris Olympics 100 years on

The 2024 Olympics in Paris have a significance for Scottish sport that not many have noticed. Exactly one hundred years ago, the last time the Olympics were held Paris, Scottish runner Eric Liddell won gold in an event he hadn’t trained for. The moving story was immortalised by the film Chariots of Fire. Last month, the University of Edinburgh awarded the ‘Flying Scotsman’ a posthumous honorary doctorate, accepted on his behalf by his daughter. 

In the words of a recent article in the Guardian, it’s a story which ‘provides a curious challenge for a secular age’. Liddell – born in China to Scottish missionary parents – came to Scotland at the age of 5. He excelled in sport at school and university. As a student at the University of Edinburgh, he broke the Scottish records for the 100 and 200 yards, and set a new record for the inter-universities 440 yards. His electrifying pace also earned him seven rugby caps for Scotland as a winger.

When the Paris Olympics came round in 1924 Liddell was selected to run the 100 and 200 metres in Paris. However he withdrew from the 100 metres on religious grounds when it was revealed that the heats were going to be held on a Sunday. For Christians, Sunday is ‘the Lord’s Day’ (Revelation 1:10), which we believe we are bound by God’s pattern of creation, as well as the Fourth Commandment, to ‘keep holy’ (Exodus 20:8). The British Olympic Committee put huge pressure on Liddell to run in what is the showpiece event of the Olympics, but he stood firm. Rather than compete, Eric spent the day preaching in the Scots Kirk in Paris.

When the 200 metre race came around, Eric ran and wan bronze. Ahead of the 400 metres, the team masseur gave him a note. When Eric opened it at the stadium he found words taken from the Biblical book of 1st Samuel: ‘He who honours me, I will honour’. Liddell’s plan was to ‘run the first 200 metres as hard as I could, and then, with God’s help, run the second 200 metres even harder’. That’s exactly what he did - winning gold in a world record time of 47.6 seconds.

One hundred years on, Liddell continues to be an inspiration to those who have found their sporting aspirations and Christian faith coming into conflict. Growing up I knew various people who gave up the chance to play rugby, hockey or athletics at international level because of trials, training camps or games which took place on Sundays. In the face of the often conflicting advice they have received, Liddell’s example - along with the Bible verse he was given - helped give them the motivation to stand firm.

In the film Chariots of Fire, the dramatised Liddell says: “When I run I feel God’s pleasure”. Although that line was made up for the film, it’s probably a fairly accurate description of how Liddell felt. What Liddell did say however was: “God made me for China.” That was the land his parents had felt called to as missionaries, it was where he had spent the first five years of his life – and as a young boy Liddell simply considered himself to be Chinese.

 A week after he won gold he graduated from university and enrolled at Bible college. The following summer he took part in his last athletics meeting in Scotland, winning the Scottish Amateur Athletics Association titles in the 100, 220, and 440 yards, before leaving for Tientsin, China.

In 1934 he married Florence, a Canadian nurse. They had three daughters but he never met the youngest: when civil war broke out and then the Japanese invaded in 1941, Liddell sent his pregnant wife and young children to safety. He stayed, working as a missionary in war-torn Siaochang. In 1943, he and his missionary colleagues were interned by the Japanese in a camp in Weihsien. He died there in 1945. In words which close out Chariots of Fire: ‘Eric Liddell, missionary, died in occupied China at the end of World War II. All of Scotland mourned’.

It is indeed a story which provides a curious challenge for a secular age – as well as those who share Liddell’s faith. It’s the story of a man who gave up not simply one race, but a life of comfort and fame. What was it that led him to do it? The answer is that he had found something greater than gold.

Published in the Stranraer & Wigtownshire Free Press, 8th August 2024

On Swapping Pulpits

If you knock on my door this month, the chances are that an American will open it. (And if you see my car being driven by someone who looks like they’ve never driven in the UK before…that’s why!). The reason is something known as a “Pulpit swap”. For the month of July an American pastor will be preaching in Stranraer – and I’ll be preaching in his church near Kansas City. We’ve each brought our families with us, and swapped cars as well as houses and pulpits.

Although the church denomination in which I minister is small in Scotland, it is the mother church of congregations in the United States, Canada, Australia, Ireland, France, Spain, Japan, India, Pakistan, Sudan, the Gambia – and another country which is never mentioned in print because of security concerns. In the last couple of years in Stranraer we’ve had visiting preachers from Reformed Presbyterian Churches in the US and Japan. A few weeks ago, we heard from a man who spent twenty years ministering in France. As part of this current trip, our family also had the opportunity to attend the RP International Conference (normally held every four years; this was the first for eight due to Covid). We joined around 1600 other delegates and had opportunities to hear updates from some of the countries mentioned above. I also had the opportunity to speak to around 200 people about needs and opportunities here in Scotland. 

Pictured with the widow of an American pastor who did two 'stated supply' periods in my home congregation in Ireland when we were without a pastor

Such global interaction is nothing new. In 1789 Rev. James Reid, pastor for the whole region of Wigtownshire and beyond, travelled to America, visited and organised Covenanter congregations from New York down to South Carolina, before returning home to Scotland almost a year later. He brought with him an invitation for either himself or any of his fellow ministers to move permanently. (They all declined!). In the next century, Stoneykirk man William Milroy became the first Scottish Reformed Presbyterian minister to train for the ministry in North America. He studied at the university of Toronto, before being ‘licensed’ by the RP Presbytery of Pittsburgh in 1861, immediately returning home to become minister of Penpont, near Dumfries.

What are the benefits of such interactions? There are too many to name – but they go beyond simply experiencing (and having our children experience) different places and cultures. One of the things that I’ve found most striking about meeting Christians from around the world is how much we have in common. That has been the case in Sri Lanka (where I preached in 2014 with an interpreter translating into Tamil), the States, and everywhere in between. The last book of the Bible pictures those in heaven as ‘a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages’ (Revelation 7:9). Such interactions are a reminder of where we’re heading. (This also applies across history. Two of the Biblical interpreters that I turn to most often in my study in Stranraer are a fourth century North African (Saint Augustine), and a sixteenth century Frenchman (John Calvin)).

Another pastor's widow - with ministry experience in the RPCS and RPCNA

I would go as far as to argue that Christianity is a global movement in a way other religions aren’t: it has no holy land to which one must make pilgrimages, no holy language that the most devout must learn. The history of the spread of Christianity also refutes the vague notion many have that some church council at some point in the past added or removed stuff from the Bible. From the very beginning, Christianity was spreading and the Scriptures were being translated into the languages of the people they reached. Even if there had been a desire to change the message, there was no opportunity to do so.

Another benefit from such interactions is a reminder that there is more going on around the world than we realise. The decline of Christianity in Scotland has been well publicised. Taking a big picture view reminds us that that’s not the case everywhere.

So – if you happen to bump into the American family in question – that’s a bit of the background as to why they’re here. I’m sure they will receive a warm welcome in Stranraer. And if you want to hear a familiar message preached in an unfamiliar accent, they would be delighted to see you at church. Despite various outward differences, the message is the same around the world. It is a message that transcends time and cultural differences – because it is about “Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, today and forever” (Hebrews 7:8).

Published in the Stranraer & Wigtownshire Free Press, 11th July 2024.