THE BROCKHOEFT REPORT ------------ Feedback Box:

Vol I, Issue 3 (c) John Brockhoeft 1993, Federal Prison, Ashland

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.

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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.

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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 passe. 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! [We would have said then.] 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."

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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 Christianly 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 judgement 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.

Back to the original story. So I waited for the expected leader to arise and the protestors 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 borne 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

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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.

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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

Chapter 4 Published in July, 1993 by Shelley Shannon, and reprinted in the December/C/1993 issue of P&A

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