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The Bible, Abortion, and the Politics of Selective Morality

May 11, 2026BenjaminLeave a comment

There is no sense in debating the issues of abortion, racial prejudices involving the Palestinian People, and whether or not there is a God or the equal rights movement, in sixty years people will still be debating these issues, why fall in that trap?

© Benjamin H. Groff II — Truth Endures / benandsteve.com

May 11, 2026

Open antique law book with ornate initial, brass balance scale, quill, and inkpot on wooden table — **_{^{GroffMedia©TruthEndures 2006}}**

For decades, anti-abortion organizations in America have cited Biblical authority as the foundational justification for their movement. Through protest signs, political speeches, church campaigns, and fundraising letters, they represent opposition to abortion not merely as a political issue, but as an unequivocal mandate from God. However, this essay contends that such appeals to scripture are selective and may overlook significant biblical passages that both complicate and, at times, directly challenge the certainty and absolutism with which many modern anti-abortion groups present their views.

Former U.S. President Jimmy Carter once suggested that there was no sense in debating the issues of abortion, racial prejudices involving the Palestinian People, and whether or not there is a God or the equal rights movement. Barry Goldwater overheard him saying that in 60 years, people will still fight one another over these subjects. Putting together an argument to be sure to use them as political hay, so there is no use in my falling for their trap! And he was right. Regardless of what is decided today, others will continue to argue for the rights of these regardless of what is decided now. Today is never definite.

Still.

The verses ignored in these debates are violent, uncomfortable, and inconvenient to absolute arguments.

One of the most often mentioned passages is Genesis 2:7, which says life begins when Adam receives “the breath of life.” People who oppose abortion interpret this verse in various ways, but critics say it suggests personhood starts at birth, with breath, instead of at conception. This view is very different from modern political claims that life begins at fertilization.

Exodus 21:22-25 discusses a scenario in which a pregnant woman is injured during a fight and consequently loses her fetus. According to scholars such as Phyllis Trible and John J. Collins, the punishment prescribed for this loss differs significantly from that for killing a person, indicating that the biblical text assigns a different value to fetal life (Trible, 1978; Collins, 2004).

Historians, including Jonathan Klawans and Christine Hayes, also contend that ancient Hebrew law did not equate fetal death with the killing of an already born individual, but rather treated it as a lesser offense within its legal system (Klawans, 2012; Hayes, 2001).

Perhaps most controversial is Numbers 5:11-31, called the “ordeal of bitter water.” In this passage, a priest performs a ritual on a woman suspected of adultery. Critics of anti-abortion theology say the text describes a divinely sanctioned miscarriage if adultery occurred. Opponents of modern anti-abortion activism see a contradiction: groups say the Bible always condemns abortion, yet they rarely discuss a passage that seems to permit or even command ending a pregnancy in some cases.

The criticism gets stronger when readers see violent Old Testament passages about pregnant women and children. In 2 Kings 8:12 and Hosea 13:16, invading armies rip open pregnant women. Isaiah 13:18 describes unborn children destroyed during judgment. Critics say that while these verses describe war or punishment, they challenge claims that scripture always treats fetal life as sacred.

To many observers, the issue is not merely theology — it is selective morality.

Critics say anti-abortion movements focus on a few verses while ignoring bigger Biblical themes, like poverty, healthcare, compassion, violence, orphan care, and social justice. Some also say these organizations fight abortion but oppose programs that could reduce unwanted pregnancies, like prenatal care, food aid, childcare, sex education, or affordable healthcare.

Others say the modern anti-abortion movement is political as well as religious. Historians have shown that abortion became a key issue in American conservative politics in the late 1970s and 1980s. It helped mobilize voters and build evangelical political power. Critics believe this history raises questions about whether the movement is based on scripture or on political strategy wrapped in religious language.

At the same time, many people of faith point to scriptures such as Psalm 139:13-16 (“For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb”) and Jeremiah 1:5 (“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you”) as evidence that unborn life holds deep spiritual value. For them, the abortion debate is not political, but a sincere belief that life is sacred from its earliest beginnings.

This does not mean that the Bible is “anti-abortion” or “pro-abortion”. The scriptures are ancient, complex, and have been read differently by various groups over hundreds of years. Many sincere believers oppose abortion because they value the unborn life. Critics, however, reject the idea that opposition is the only Christian view. People who believe in a sky daddy, and maybe still, in a real Santa Claus, Tooth Fairy, or Easter Bunny, according to extreme critics.

Desert camp with large tents, stone tablets inscribed with ancient symbols, and people walking around at dusk.

The larger question may not be whether scripture can be used to oppose abortion. Clearly, it can.

The central issue, therefore, is whether anti-abortion groups sufficiently address the complexity and diversity inherent in Biblical teachings when presenting them as absolute authority in the abortion debate. This raises a broader question: whether these groups offer a comprehensive, contextually nuanced interpretation of scripture, or, as critics argue, oversimplify and selectively interpret biblical texts to serve specific political and ideological agendas. Thus, the debate centers not only on what the Bible says about abortion, but also on how faithfully its teachings are represented in contemporary discourse.

When difficult verses are excluded and uncomfortable passages ignored, faith risks drifting from spiritual truth toward political convenience. If scripture is going to be used to shape public belief, then all of scripture — including the passages that appear to challenge the argument — should be part of the discussion. As the old saying goes, “what’s good for the goose is good for the gander.” People should be trusted to hear the full text and decide for themselves, rather than being instructed only on what they are expected to believe. Yet for some, allowing that kind of open examination may itself be seen as a threat to established belief.

The Unlikely Friendship: Lessons in Kindness

October 25, 2024BenjaminLeave a comment

By: Benjamin Groff II© Groff Media 2024© Truth Endures IMDbPro

It was a quiet Sunday morning. A knock came at the door as the man leafed through the morning paper. He answered it, and there stood a stranger, looking road-worn but determined. ––––

“Is this where Benjamin Groff lives?”

the stranger asked.

“Yes, it is,”

the man replied, studying the stranger’s face.

“You must be his father,”

the stranger ventured his smile kind and knowing.

“Yes, I am,”

the man replied, both curious and wary.

The stranger introduced himself.

“My name is Samuel Johnson. I’ve driven over seventy miles to meet you, sir. You must have been one remarkable man to raise a son like Benjamin.”

The father, his heart swelling with pride, felt a mix of emotions.

“Thank you, Samuel,”

he said.

“But, please, how do you know my son?”

Samuel nodded as though expecting the question.

“I met Ben at the Oklahoma State Fair last fall. I was just there to do a job—keeping an eye on one of the old buildings. Some local boys had been giving me trouble, but Ben stepped in. Out of all the things he could have done at the fair, he chose to sit down and talk with me. We spoke for hours. Your son has a way of making people feel seen, of looking out for folks. He even asked me if anyone was bothering me, and from that moment on, I felt I wasn’t just working the fair—I was spending time with a friend.”

The father listened, deeply touched.

“That sounds like Ben,”

he said softly, gesturing for Samuel to take a seat.

“Let me wake him—he’ll want to know you’re here.”

Ben’s father went to his son’s room and gently shook him awake.

“Ben, you’ll never guess who’s here to see you,”

he said.

Still half-asleep, Ben slowly got up and followed his father into the living room. To his surprise, there sat Samuel, his old buddy from the State Fair. A smile of joy spread across Ben’s face as memories flooded back.

On that day at the fair, Ben had already taken in the sights, ridden the rides, and wandered through the livestock shows, which, to his surprise, had lost their charm despite his upbringing on a farm. He was winding down, simply walking, when he happened upon Samuel’s post.

Samuel was friendly, the kind of person who seemed to carry his life’s story in the lines of his face. Ben had sensed the man’s kindness right away, trusting him instinctively. They talked for hours, sharing stories. Samuel had offered him cold water from the employee stash and even let him use the private restroom in the back, which felt like a luxury compared to the crowded ones across the fairgrounds. Ben could still recall their easy camaraderie, even though much of what they’d discussed had faded over time.

Before parting, Ben had written down his number and directions to their home, saying,

“If you’re ever in town and need anything, look us up.”

Now, here was Samuel, having made good on that invitation.

After they caught up for a while, Ben suggested a tour of the campground where his father worked as a Ranger. The sprawling property had over 350 acres, six cabins, and a large recreation hall. As they rode around, they laughed about old times and marveled at the twists and turns that brought two unlikely friends together again.

Finally, as the afternoon sun started to wane, Samuel turned to Ben with a smile.

“I’d better head back to the city,”

he said, patting Ben on the shoulder.

“I’m grateful to have met your folks and seen your home—it’s even better than I’d imagined.”

He climbed into his Lincoln Continental, waved as he pulled away, and drove down the dusty road until he was out of sight. That was the last time Ben saw Samuel. But in the years that followed, he often recalled the kindness they’d shared, proof that a simple act of friendship could reach far beyond the boundaries of a single day.

Benjamin stood on the porch as Samuel drove off, watching the dust settle behind the Lincoln. He thought about how Samuel’s visit had bridged two worlds—a fact that didn’t escape him in a town where Black residents were often confined to the southwest corner, seen more as a separate community than as neighbors.

Growing up, Benjamin noticed the prejudices that ran through many families in town but never took root in his heart. His father, a man who saw people for who they were, not where they came from, profoundly influenced him. Samuel’s visit was a powerful reminder of how simple kindness could defy those boundaries, how a shared afternoon at a fair could lead to a journey across miles.

Though he never saw Samuel again, Benjamin often recalled those two encounters. They left him with a lesson he carried into adulthood and his career—a quiet but powerful truth about compassion. Samuel had come to honor Benjamin’s father. Still, Benjamin always remembered Samuel for showing him how friendship and decency could surpass any divide, leaving an enduring mark on his life.

In a way, Samuel had gifted him a legacy of his own: the reminder that sometimes, the connections we make in unexpected places leave the most enduring marks on our lives.

In Memory of Samuel!

THE GOOD OLE DAYS – When Liquor And Smoking Was Looked Down On In The Church!

September 25, 2024BenjaminLeave a comment

Back When It Was Wrong to Drink Alcohol if You Attended Church Regularly**

There was a time in America when attending church wasn’t just a Sunday ritual—it was a statement about your character and standing in the community. The church was not just a place of worship, but a social hub, a moral compass, and a powerful institution that dictated the norms of the society. If you were a regular churchgoer, there were unspoken rules about living outside church walls. Drinking alcohol or smoking cigarettes were two vices that could quickly bring judgment upon you, even if they were as commonplace as breathing for others.

In small towns, everyone knew each other, and word traveled fast. It wasn’t uncommon for whispers to start over something as innocent as being seen at a local diner that served alcohol. If you planned to go out on a Saturday night, you’d carefully choose your venue. Establishments that served soft drinks and burgers were safe zones. But heaven forbid you step into a place with a liquor license, even if you ordered only iced tea. The fear of being seen holding a bottle or sitting too close to someone who did would make you check the room every few minutes, scanning for familiar faces.

If someone from the church spotted you and word got back, there would be consequences. Churchgoers who believed themselves to be the guardians of morality would meet in hushed tones after Sunday service. By the following week, it wasn’t just an isolated incident but a full-blown scandal. Being blackballed from the church community was as much a social exile as a spiritual one. It meant being shunned by your friends, ignored by your neighbors, and excluded from community events. It was a scarlet letter that you wore for all to see.

For many, life revolved around the church. From social gatherings to community support, it was the center of life. If you fell out of favor, you might as well have packed your bags and left town. People would stop coming by your house. Your family would feel isolated, and worse yet, your reputation could be tarnished, so you’d be forever known as “the one who didn’t live right.”

What made it even harder was that many people did drink or smoke, just not publicly. Behind closed doors, whiskey bottles would appear, and cigarettes would be lit, but it was all secret. There was a fine line between private indulgence and public condemnation; walking that line required skill. Even the most upstanding churchgoers knew when to bend the rules to avoid exposure, but there was no forgiveness once caught.

This wasn’t just a rule enforced by the church leaders. It was ingrained in the fabric of the town. Even those who didn’t care much for the church often aligned themselves with its standards because the social costs of defying them were too high. Businesses knew to close down on Sundays, and local events were always planned around the church calendar. People were always watching, and it was the judgment of your peers that carried the actual weight.

But it wasn’t all rigid. A seismic shift was underway. The younger generation, starting in the 1960s and into the ’70s, began to question why the church had such control over their personal lives. They saw the church’s influence as oppressive, and they were determined to break free. Some moved away from the towns, hoping to escape the ever-present watchful eyes. Others rebelled quietly, choosing to live their lives in contrast to the expectations but always careful to avoid getting caught. Those who stayed and fought for change were few and far between, and the weight of tradition bore down on them heavily.

As time went on, the grip loosened, but for those who lived through it, the fear of social disgrace for drinking or smoking stayed with them long after the rules faded.