APPENDIX

HOW I WAS DRIVEN TO WRITE THIS BOOK

There is a sense in which Chuck Colson instigated the chain of events that led to this book. Obviously you can't blame everything on the actions of one person: too many factors come together in any sequence of events to fairly ascribe cause to one factor alone. But even in the most complicated chain of events, one incident can sometimes fairly be judged to be decisive. If but for the existence of that one event, the chain of events that followed can be seen to have been altered, it is reasonable to judge the one "but for" event to be the cause of what followed.

But for Chuck Colson asking me in 1979 to become the first Southeastern Regional Director for the new ministry called Prison Fellowship, I probably would have spent the rest of my life without having to arrive at an ironclad conclusion about what Jesus expects from those who are called to his service. I would have fulfilled my duty to Christ in the same way countless millions of Christian men who are not called to full-time Christian service have done: I would have supported my family by working at a good-paying job; I would have gone to Church on Sundays, Wednesday nights and holidays; I would have participated in the life of the congregation in accordance with everyone's understanding of my gifts and calling--and that would have been it. In other words, I would have been able to spend the rest of my life as a Christian who treats the message in Matthew 25 as important, but not absolutely central to my self-image. Colson took the opportunity to be that kind of Christian away when he told me he needed me to go to work with PF.

Until the Lord spoke to me in Matthew 25, I didn't want to do what Chuck had asked me to do. My wife, Carol, and I had just had our second child. I had a good job writing and selling ads for a small Atlanta newspaper. Since I had been released from prison only a few months before, the thought of taking a job that required me to go into hundreds of prisons was not a joyful one. Then one night shortly after Chuck offered me the job with Prison Fellowship, I happened to read Matthew 25. I had read it many times before, but I had never really heard it. "As you did it unto the least of these my brothers, ye did it unto me..."

As an ex-convict, I knew first-hand that of all those in the body of Christ, Christian convicts were clearly in the running to qualify as the "least of those." In fact, I concluded, convicts were the least of those. That conclusion put me in the position of either accepting Chuck's job offer or ignoring what I had just learned from the Lord. Rather than take any chance on being the goat Jesus talked about in Matthew 25, I went to work for Prison Fellowship.

The next several years of my life were utterly amazing. What made them most amazing was the fact that they were almost a diametric opposite of the life I had led before I surrendered to Jesus. Before Jesus revealed Himself to me as alive and well and in charge, I had been a hippy-dippy anti-war protesting marijuana man who got busted in 1973 for possession with intent to distribute hashish oil while a student at the University of Georgia. About the only Christians I had known outside my and my wife's family were some hippy-dippy Jesus freaks who were not exactly orthodox in their exegesis and hermeneutical principles. While in prison, I had surrendered to Jesus and because of my testimony had been selected as one of the first groups of prisoners furloughed to the new ministry started by Chuck Colson called Prison Fellowship. I had gone to Washington, D.C. for two weeks and there had met Colson, Richard Halverson, Doug Coe, R.C. Sproul, and many others with names well known in evangelical Christians circles. They had helped me understand exactly what Jesus was doing when he revealed Himself to me, and they showed me what it was like to be surrounded by mighty men of God who cared for you and wanted to help. Now, with Prison Fellowship, I traveled across the southeastern United States staying in the homes of Christians who loved me in spite of the fact that I had once represented everything they had held to be unclean and unholy about the Vietnam generation. And I found myself loving those people like I had never been able to love anyone outside my family. Like I said, it was amazing.

And things got more amazing. After I had worked for PF for about five years, I got a scholarship to Westminster Theological Seminary in Philadelphia where I had a chance to spend three years studying the Bible in Greek and Hebrew and listening to some of the most Godly and learned people in the world talk about the Jesus who had saved me and given me a new life like none I could have ever imagined possible.

Oh, it wasn't all ice cream and cake with strawberries on top. It was hard supporting a wife and three children: my wife had to work at jobs that didn't challenge or please her, the kids were forced to grow up far from grandparents and other close relatives, grow up as southerners in yankee land. But we knew there was a purpose in our being there, a purpose that led to many wonderful opportunities to grow in service to the Lord who had called us to full-time Christian service, service to the "least of those." That's why, in spite of the day to day difficulties, we were as happy a Christian family as you're likely to find on this planet.

And then one day the whole thing fell apart. Flat disintegrated. One day I was full of myself as a righteous Godly man--if not man of God (I hadn't been ordained yet): I was teaching Prison Fellowship seminars in prisons all across the United States, spending day after day telling prisoners how much Jesus loved us and what it meant that he had died for our sins, died so we could be set free from bondage to the sin that had gotten us in prison in the first place; the next day I was up to my ears in blood, gore and guts, convicted of being a liar, a hypocrite, and a murderer. In the space of two days my world fell apart, my self-image disintegrated, and I found myself spread eagled with my face buried in the dirt begging Jesus to forgive me for what I was afraid was unforgivable sin.

When I got up off the ground, I was angry, angry with myself that I had let myself do what I saw I had done, angry with the Church because I had not been taught how to avoid what I found myself doing. This anger began to propel me. I spoke to everyone I knew trying to find a way out of my disaster. The more I talked to people the more confused and upset I became. It became obvious that I was virtually alone, aside from a few people scattered across the country who seemed to sense the same reality I perceived, the great mass of Christians in this nation seemed utterly oblivious to what I now understood to be the present reality of the Church in the United States of America. Nobody seemed to see what I was seeing! And on top of that, when I tried to explain what I was seeing and feeling, nobody wanted to hear what I had to say!

What did I see? I found myself in a web of sin that was so all-encompassing that I was simply unable to imagine how escape could be found in this world, in this life.

In order to survive, I launched a two-pronged attack on the problem: I searched the Scriptures and I searched for people who could help me understand. As I talked to Christian people, I encountered little that was of assistance because I found it was extremely difficult to explain why I believed myself to be a liar, hypocrite and murderer. Two reasons made the explanation difficult: (1) I didn't kill anybody with my own hands, in fact there are those who say I didn't kill anybody at all, so getting people to see what I did wrong was the first difficulty; (2) when Christians began to understand what I think I did wrong, they got very uncomfortable because they soon realize that if my analysis was correct, they did exactly the same thing: that makes Christians not want to listen.

What follows is R rated for mature Christians because it contains the soul-cries of a deeply disturbed and confused man who thought he was following Jesus to the cross, but woke up and found that, instead, he was the Levite walking past the man the Samaritan had to pull out of the ditch.

The form might seem at first confusing. Here's why: when I initially tried to tell Christians about the catastrophe that had befallen me, I encountered real difficulty in getting my message across: on the one hand, I didn't understand exactly what had happened to me; and, on the other hand, people felt threatened by what little I did understand. In order to overcome both of these difficulties I wrote my explanation as if it was a disciplinary report about me submitted by a good Christian brother who was worried that I might have lost contact with reality. My thinking went like this: if they don't want to hear what I've got to say, maybe they'll listen if they think they're not being put on the spot. And this way, maybe I can find somebody that'll help me out of the trouble I'm in.

So I tried to find a way to be heard by Christians who had become increasingly skilled at avoiding conversation with me. The form is that of a conversation between myself and an invented Church elder (I named him Dr. Al Terego. Get it? Alter ego. Cute, huh?) who was reporting to the Church at large about my abnormal behavior. While the conversation occurred only in my imagination, the content of the conversation is my best effort to define the actual facts that I experienced which brought me to the most dangerous crisis I have ever faced in my life as a Christian. I sent it to every Christian in the United States that I had an address for. It worked well on one level: a lot of people who had ignored things I had written in the past were able to find time to read allegations made against me; on another level it was a disaster: most every Christian I knew quit talking to me.

The reason I am on the verge of exposing you to it is because there were some Christians who indicated what I had to say was worth their while.

DISCIPLINARY REPORT TO THE CHURCH

by

Dr. Al Terego

Dear Brother and Sister in Christ,

Matthew 18 outlines the proper procedure to follow in dealing with cases of Church discipline. Enclosed is the transcript of a recorded interview with a man named Otis O'Neal Horsley. When you read it I am sure you will see why it is necessary to turn this information over to you, the Church.

But first, background information. Neal Horsley (he is called by that name) is an ex-convict who, ten years ago, says he surrendered himself to Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior. His behavior at that time left little reason to question the truth of that commitment and, in fact, resulted in his being selected upon release from prison for the position of Southeast Regional Director of the ministry of Prison Fellowship, the organization founded by Charles W. Colson.

A 1985 article published by Prison Fellowship outlined his accomplishments with that organization, "The first director for the southeast region, he mobilized and organized Prison Fellowship's volunteer ministry in seven states. After six years with Prison Fellowship, Neal attended Westminster Theological Seminary on a scholarship provided by Prison Fellowship. This past May, Neal graduated with a Master of Arts in Religion."

Aside from the obvious fact that Neal Horsley was a criminal before his alleged conversion, there is nothing in such a resume to explain the behavior now demanding Church discipline.

I became involved in this investigation because of a...I'm not sure what to call it...I suppose "item of propaganda" would be as precise as any. This disturbing item was brought to my attention because it had been found on a table designated for ministry literature in one of the buildings at the Westminster campus in Philadelphia. Since the item was unsigned, investigation was required before I was able to determine beyond question that the author was Neal Horsley. I have enclosed the item so that you may understand why it was necessary to confront the man. It follows:

PEOPLE URGING KINDLY ENTREATY

Amid the current maelstorm (sic) of incivility and reprehensible indecorum, the public waits for a voice that can return us to an acceptable state of decency.

Such a voice can be found in this organization. "People Urging Kindly Entreaty" is committed to trailblazing the way to that condition of compromised balance necessary for an orderly democratic society.

As few will deny, compromise is the cornerstone upon which this republic must rest. The absence of this spirit of compromise necessarily causes our republic to sink into the mire of discontent. "People Urging Kindly Entreaty" will change all this.

It is our goal to forge those conditions under which compromise can occur. Paramount in importance is the necessity for a clear and candid grasp of reality: not things as they should be, but things as they actually are. Upon such a grasp of reality alone can compromise be constructed.

This requires us to define some things many would desire to leave poorly or totally undefined.

Take for example the issue of abortion, surely one of the most divisive and potentially explosive issues looming on our public horizon. "People Urging Kindly Entreaty" proposes a compromise that is built upon the solid ground of objective fact. It is our contention that compromise has been impossible to achieve in this issue because selective perception has chosen to ignore clearly discernible facts.

During the Vietnam era, one of the more common inner-city graffiti stated, "What if they gave a war and nobody came?" This graffiti offered a succinct summary of one point of view concerning the war. Similarly, the current abortion reality could be summarized by declaring, "We gave a war but didn't tell anybody, so everybody came."

And so we did.

Legalized abortion is war against people who, if allowed to live, could destroy us all. "People Urging Kindly Entreaty" recognizes the reality of this war and, further, the necessity for it. Our current inability to find grounds for compromise can be traced to the fact that reasonable people have been unwilling to face one simple fact: this war is absolutely necessary for our survival.

Anyone familiar with the consequences of an overpopulated planet has to concede that our survival is dependent upon reducing our burgeoning population. If a war to eliminate poverty and a war to eliminate drugs is necessary, surely there can be little argument against the necessity for a war to eliminate overpopulation. And war inevitably produces casualties.

Our inability to find compromise on this abortion fiasco can be traced to poorly-handled tactical considerations. Certain unpleasant, but obviously justified, consequences of this war in which abortion is our most effective weapon were simply not anticipated. Leadership failed to anticipate the understandable revulsion created by an unseemly casualty-disposable system; and leadership's failure is at the root of public disapprobation with this issue. Even in war, certain amenities must be observed if at all possible.

In other words, we must give the little buggers a decent burial.

While "People Urging Kindly Entreaty" would never suggest full military honors are necessary, it is certainly feasible to set aside some unused public land near every municipality which could be designated as a quasi-military cemetery. There, each day, casualties could be transported and interred, with the drivers perhaps authorized to conduct some brief,

informal services. (A simple armband for the drivers, and a small flag would suffice.) Upon such compromises to public discontent, a stable and decent democracy is built.

It is the purpose of "People Urging Kindly Entreaty" (PUKE) to continue to offer insightful and timely grounds of compromise on all the issues of the day. Won't you join with us as we restore our nation to decent, civilized discussion leading to compromise. Is it not your duty?

Sincerely,

Political Action Committee

People Urging Kindly Entreaty (PUKE)

I admit I was initially confused by this item. I finally concluded it must be someone's attempt at satire--sick satire to say the least. I was deeply concerned about the soul-safety of the person writing this item because, after close inspection, I glimpsed a spirit of anger frightening in its intensity.

The interview was conducted in January, 1988. After Neal Horsley had confessed to writing the item above, I asked him to explain himself.

He knit his brows in a attitude of thinly-veiled passion and began, "About three years ago I was sitting in Hebrew class at Westminster. We were translating aloud a passage in the 106th Psalm when we came to this verse concerning the nation of Israel." He scurried to pick up a Bible, thumbed through the pages, and began to read with near-frantic concentration, "They sacrificed their sons and their daughters to demons.

They shed innocent blood, the blood of their sons and daughters, whom they sacrificed to the idols of Canaan, and the land was desecrated by their blood. They defiled themselves by what they did; by their deeds they prostituted themselves. Therefore the Lord was angry with his people and abhorred his inheritance. He handed them over to the nations, and their foes ruled over them. Their enemies oppressed them and subjected them to their power."

He looked at me and an expression of awed confusion crossed his face. "Well," he said, "As we read those words aloud in class, a shock wave raced through my body--I mean, like a flash of heat hit me, hard, and my mind began to rush on memories from my past. It was like I was right there with them. I saw myself as a nineteen year old G.I. trying to convince a girl I had gotten pregnant to have an abortion. Then I saw myself with that girl as she passed through town two weeks after delivering the child at a Florence Crittenton home. I realized as I was sitting there in class that if I had had my way, the baby would have been killed. The knowledge hit me like a rock. But it wasn't over.

Then I saw myself a few years later discussing with another girl I had gotten pregnant that I was sure, even though it was illegal, I could find someone to abort the child if she would agree to do it. Then a picture of the kid as he looked a few years later flashed in my mind--our child, a few years later, alive and bright and full of zest. It was like really intense, these pictures, almost more real than reality. And they were hurting me really bad. I mean I was going through some major changes. But it wasn't over. Then I flashed on Carol. She's my wife. We've been married sixteen years. I flashed on her struggle to conceive during our first five years of marriage, and I remembered the discussions we had had about whether her inability to conceive could be connected to the fact that she had had an abortion when she was fifteen, the year before she met me."

He paused, cradled his chin in his hand, and gazed blindly across the room. Then he swung his eyes back to me and in them I could see deep frustration. "Okay, here it is," he declared, "Obviously, I was experiencing a conviction of sin--my sin. What happened was, something in that Psalms passage was used by the Lord to make me face the fact that I was guilty of murder."

I didn't quite understand how he could reach that conclusion and my expression betrayed my thoughts.

"Look," he interjected forcefully, "Jesus said we're guilty of murder if we even think about murdering somebody, right?"

I nodded agreement.

"Okay. So my willingness to kill those babies was murder in eyes of the Lord. That's a fact," he declared as if daring me to disagree.

I did not take his dare.

He watched me for a few seconds, then continued, "Obviously, what I initially experienced was an awareness that I could not separate myself from those who were in danger of God's judgment--a judgment like what God had brought on Israel described in that Psalms we were reading. Right?"

I nodded to show I was following his train of thought.

He continued in a tone of amazed incredulity, "I realized I had not truly repented of my sin." He spread his hands and held them out by his side as if displaying wares, "There I was right in the middle of seminary, having served in a leadership capacity in the largest prison ministry in the world, and it suddenly dawned on me that I had not repented of murder!" He slowly shook his head, then continued, "Well, after class, I made it for the woods around school and hit the deck. I got down and poured out my soul before the Lord. I was scared, see, really scared--terrified. I sat there crying and calling myself every kind of idiot and imbecile and fool I could think of because that's how I felt. I mean, I knew I'd really blown it."

He paused watching me, then continued, "Well, the Lord ministered to me that day. He was there with me. I was reminded of everything he had ever taught me about what his sacrifice on the cross has accomplished for me. He let me experience in my flesh how real his sacrifice was. I mean, he made me understand that his sacrifice was sufficient to pay the price I owed to my God." Moisture began to well in his eyes as he continued, "I mean, you might not understand what I'm saying, but that day, if he hadn't been there to minister to me, I don't know what would have happened in those woods." He paused, then added, "You know that Robert Frost poem, 'Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Eve'? I nodded, and he continued, "Well, that's the way it was with me. Without Jesus, I don't know how I'd have gotten out of there alive."

I smiled to show my empathy and he returned my smile before continuing, "I think I realized that day what it means to live on borrowed time. I mean it's weird really. I'd sinned pretty steadily all my life before I surrendered to Jesus, and I'd done some sinning after I'd surrendered. I'd done plenty of repenting and being forgiven, but I don't think I ever realized the full horror of sin until that day. That day I faced the fact that my sin had put me in a place where I was able to seriously consider murdering my own babies, where I had been willing to aid and abet their murder. Talk about borrowed time! I realized I didn't deserve one second of the time I was receiving." After a long pause he continued, "Well, lemme tell you what. He woke me up that day--that's a fact. For ten years I had been a follower of Jesus Christ and I had never repented of the sin of murder. I had shut my eyes to the evidence of that sin all around me." His eyes widened and he flung his hands out as he exclaimed, "Look around us! How many babies have been slaughtered? A million or so a year? How many? Fifteen or twenty million? That's been going on all around me and I was blind--deaf and dumb. Out of it." Suddenly, he puffed out his chest in mock parody of bluster, "Hey! I be a Godly man! I had a ministry! My priorities were in order!" Then he took a deep breath and looked around the room like a hunted animal. He must have seen I was becoming alarmed because he immediately smiled and relaxed. "I'm sorry," he said, "I know this is too intense. But you asked for it. You said you were coming to me out of love for a Christian brother. I appreciate that; I really do. But this is the only way I know how to explain. I'm sorry if I make you uncomfortable. Just hang in there with me. All I do is verbalize this energy; I don't get physical. Okay?" He smiled at me.

I returned his smile.

He continued, apparently under control again, "Now where were we? Oh yeah, the woods. What I decided before I left them was, I had to repent--I mean really repent. I realized I had to demonstrate a totally different attitude toward abortion. I had to demonstrate I understood how utterly sinful abortion was." He paused, seemingly perplexed, then continued, "And I did so. I spoke out at seminary; I spoke out in my church. Every opportunity to speak that came my way, I told what had happened to me as best I could. And I found that my brothers and sisters already knew what I had just found out--they knew abortion was murder; they said they sensed the evil in our midst." He paused again, and in a major mood swing, began to stare as if sizing me for a coffin. Defensively, I smiled and nodded to show my support. Without altering the grim expression on his face, he continued as if he had just encountered an inexplicable monstrosity, "But it was weird. I mean, abortions just kept going on. Everywhere I looked, I saw them. In spite of the fact that all the Christians I spoke to, all the Christians I read about, indicated they knew abortion was utterly sinful--was murder--abortions continued at the rate of over four thousand each day, every day. Four thousand babies slaughtered. Every day. Four thousand."

At that point, I felt compelled to bring the situation in

perspective. I said, "Yes, the situation is terri..."

He interrupted, obviously unconcerned about the impact of his interruption on me, "I thought you wanted to understand me."

"Yes, of course, please continue."

He eyed me as an enemy; his words began to accelerate, "Okay, so the abortions kept on happening like nothing was out of control, like it didn't matter at all. What's going on? I asked myself. Surely God wants this stopped. Or does He? It isn't stopping. Maybe He wants it to continue. Maybe this is His way of judging these abortionists. Maybe the death of their babies is their penalty. Maybe this is His way of using the consequences of sin to drive those people to their knees before Him like He did with me." He paused, his voice dropping deep within his chest as he said, "But then I had a horrible thought. I asked myself who is really responsible for four thousand babies being legally destroyed each day in this country? Can I blame it on God? Are the women and girls deciding to have abortions the only ones guilty? Shouldn't the men and boys who impregnated them also be held responsible? But what about the people who made the law legalizing abortion? Aren't they guilty? But who made the law? The Supreme Court? But what's the Supreme Court? Isn't it an embodiment of all or us? Doesn't it speak for all the people of the nation? Isn't this a government ordained and established by we, the people, with the Supreme Court the final arbiter and expression of the will of the people? I was taught in Civics class that the words 'e pluribus unum' on our money is designed to prove the point, is supposed to declare that even though we are many, we are one. I was taught that the decisions embodied in law are the representations of all our voices. But if that's the case, is it not true that even if I say I'm sorry, and even if nobody I personally know ever has an abortion, I'm still culpable every time a baby is legally destroyed in this country? Am I not culpable? And if that's true for me, isn't it true for every citizen--Christian, Jew, red, black, white, Muslim, atheist? Aren't we all culpable?"

His conclusion sounded like a tormented harangue. I had lost his flow of thought in the jumble of words and could only sit speechless as he stared at me obviously waiting for a reply. The expression on his face forced me to say, "You know, God's grace and His Love..."

He interrupted, "You know, I don't want to be rude--I really don't. But this is what I've been getting everywhere I go. I finally get to the point where I can ask a question and nobody hears the question."

As gently as I knew how, I said, "Perhaps it has something to do with the way you ask your questions."

A sound like a snort erupted, then: "I'm surrounded by butchered babies and you're telling me to be polite! I swear you all act like you're more concerned about being polite than seeing babies created in the image of God, decreed by His Will to come live with us here on earth for awhile--you're more concerned about being polite than seeing those babies live."

I confess I was offended but tried nonetheless to communicate concern, "I understand your agony. I agree abortion is murder; there is no disagreement on that point. It's just that your manner of expression makes it difficult to follow you."

He looked at me in a most disrespectful way, then tossed his words aside as if I were somehow retarded, "I'm not asking you to follow me; I'm asking you to answer a question."

"And the question?"

He emphasized each word as a sentence in itself, "Am...I...Not...Culpable?"

"Well I'm no lawyer..." I managed to get out before he interrupted.

"I'm not talking about culpable under the laws of this nation!" he snapped. "What a joke! NOBODY's culpable under the laws of this nation. What about God's law, though? Am I not culpable under God's law?"

I considered the question for several seconds before replying, "You agreed in your heart that the babies conceived in illicit sexual intercourse should be aborted. I agree then that, even though the girls did not consent to follow your recommendation, you are guilty before the Lord the same as if they had aborted the children. But, still, God's word has brought you to repentance. You indicated earlier that you had been convicted and had repented of your willingness to allow the girls to abort the children. You say you understand Christ's sacrifice has paid the price you owe to God for your sin; and you say you understand that your reliance on Christ's sacrifice means you are no longer vulnerable to the wrath of God that you deserve. Since the laws of the nation were not being violated by your actions, I assume you are no longer culpable under any law."

Neal Horsley looked up and spoke as if to the ceiling, "He missed the point!"

The tape shows that my voice was slightly strained as I asked, "And what was the point?"

He clenched his fists and growled, "The babies killed today! Am I not culpable for their deaths?"

Patiently, I asked, "In what way?"

He roared, "IN WHAT WAY! In the only way that counts! In the eyes of God!"

I dimly perceived the thrust of his question but could not fashion an answer. My mind raced to find words but no two would fit together.

He looked at me with something approaching pity in his eyes, then said, "Nothing, huh? That's what I thought. That's what I get all over. That's my problem. I think I'm culpable before God for every baby legally slaughtered today in this nation. I can't get the idea out of my mind. Everything I see makes me more sure of it, and nobody I talk to can explain why I'm not."

I patiently asked him, "What makes you think you're culpable even though you've repented?"

He replied, "I'm a citizen of this nation."

A slight pause elapsed, then my words came out sounding like a cross between a question and a declaration, "Well, for that matter, we're all citizens of this nation."

He bellowed triumphantly, "Hah!", then sobered to bitter sarcasm, "That's right, isn't it. We're all citizens. Every one of us good, Christian, God-fearing folks. Solid, upstanding citizens." He lowered his voice and the words began to pour out, "Don't you see that's the problem. We're responsible before God for the laws of this nation. Every one of us. Just because the Supreme Court is the one that created the law does nothing to remove us from culpability for the consequences of the law. Ultimately, we, the people, are responsible before God for the laws in this nation. When the Supreme Court reached its decision, God heard Neal Horsley's voice in the words of the Court. And He heard your voice. He heard all our voices saying those words that legalized the slaughter of His children. I can't get that thought out of my mind. Every day that goes by I am responsible for allowing four thousand babies to be legally slaughtered. Every day."

A long pause elapsed as I arranged my thoughts. He waited for me to speak. Finally, I concluded, "I believe your analysis is founded on a faulty premise. The idea that God holds each of us responsible for the laws that exist in this nation is highly suspect."

He looked at me with something approaching condescension, "Yeah, right. God didn't hold Christians responsible for Caesar's evil did he?"

Encouraged by his insight, I smiled and said, "That's correct. Now it should be clear..."

With ferocious but quiet intensity, Neal Horsley attacked me, "Well, lemme tell you what, brother. Caesar's dead. Deader'n a doornail. You wanna know who's Caesar now? Us, that's who. We, the people, ordained and established the Constitution that was being interpreted by the Supreme Court. We, the people, made the law, the Supreme Law of the Land. You think God don't know that? You think God don't know Caesar's dead!"

I tried to respond as gracefully and as gently as I knew how, "I think you are oversimplifying a very complex question. I understand how upsetting such an idea could be, but I am sure God understands His people are distancing themselves from the abortions that continue."

"Did God tell you that? I wish He'd tell me; that'd solve my problem. I wish He'd say, 'Hey, Neal, it's all right. I know you have repented. Legal abortion no longer involves you. This is just between me and all those sinners. You have no blood on your hands.' Oh, I wish He'd say that. Is it in the Book? Show me where He says it. Show me dadgummit!"

More than a little alarmed by the level of emotion he was displaying, I asked Neal to return to the chair he had dived out of in pursuit of a nearby Bible. I told him, "I'm sure if we search the Scripture we can find that God would not hold you culpable when you have already repented."

"What you think I been doing. I'm wearing it out looking for relief." He thumbed back and forth through a Bible that had obviously seen much use. "Everything I see makes me more sure God is holding me accountable for all these babies being butchered. Check this out!" He stopped thumbing near the front of the book and thrust it in my direction, "Look at Israel! God viewed the nation as an embodiment of the people. All the people. The prophets freaked out when individuals violated God's law. Read it! Unless individuals were punished for violating God's law, the whole nation stood in jeopardy of being destroyed. Look at Deuteronomy Thirteen. God says to destroy an entire town if people are found worshiping other Gods. Verse 17, God tells why, 'None of these things must be found in your hands, so that the Lord will turn from his fierce anger...' Fierce anger against what? Against the whole nation, that's what! The point is, God would destroy the entire nation if individuals were allowed to continue to violate His law. And that's what He says all through the Old Testament. If that's how He dealt with the nation of Israel, what you think He's gonna do to us?" He stopped abruptly and stared, obviously intending to give me opportunity for rebuttal.

I was beginning to dimly perceive the thrust of his thought and tried to anticipate his logical conclusion, "Neal," I began, my tone patient and full of empathy, "I understand what you are feeling, but drawing parallels from what the Bible says about the nation of Israel and applying them to the United States of America is a very difficult and, I might add, exceedingly dangerous task. Whatever real insight into our problems today that can be drawn from a study of the Old Testament would best be conducted by experts."

I was totally unprepared for his response. "Well, la, de, da. That just leaves me out completely, don't it. Who is ol' Neal Horsley to start rambling around in this 'most complex and exceedingly dangerous' subject? Who gives him a license to talk about these things? The only thing he knows about the law is it'll put you in prison when you break it. Isn't that right? Isn't that what you're saying?"

"Neal, I certainly don't mean that you are out of order to think about these things. I simply mean that any conclusions you reach would, for good reason, have to be regarded as, at best, tentative. If you acted on your conclusions, you would be in jeopardy of acting on conclusions hastily drawn and without authorization."

For the first time, my words seemed to diminish his growing momentum. He arose from his chair and paced slowly back and forth near me. He abruptly stopped, squared himself in my direction, and asked, "Is it against the law to talk about my conclusions? Am I authorized to do that?"

I smiled and said encouragingly, "Certainly that is in order; that's why I'm here. I want to talk about your conclusions. My point was, any action taken on your conclusions would be ill-advised at this time." I paused, then continued, "Of course, all this is hypothetical. I don't know what action your conclusions would lead to. That's what I'm here to find out."

As if speaking to himself, he said, "I had my chance and blew it."

"Beg your pardon?"

Focusing on me, he repeated, "I had my chance and blew it."

"I'm afraid you'll have to explain."

"When Colson had me on the "700 Club"--I was supposed to tell everybody then, and I blew it."

"Are you saying Charles Colson invited you to be on Pat Robertson's '700 Club' and you turned down the offer?"

He snorted in frustrated disbelief, swept his hands through the air as if revealing a panorama, and spoke from beneath sarcastic arched eyebrows, "Oh no! I went! I was there in living color. I marched out there and jumped through their hoops like a pedigreed poodle in their dog and pony show." He continued in a simpering parody of piousness, "I gaaave my testimony. I told them how Jeeesus saved my rotten ol' soul when I was in prison--How He came and set me free." Suddenly he startled me by yelling in a tormented, near-blasphemous tone, "PRAISE GAWD! I told'em how He set me free!"

I was offended and told him so: "That is out of order."

He snapped, "And that's exactly what Colson said when I told him what the Lord had laid on my heart." He mimicked Charles Colson, "No, Neal, you can't do that. You have seven minutes. The program is already designed. At the end of your testimony, I am to give an invitation for the viewers to join me in prayer. We can't do anything about it now."

"But Chuck, I said, I've been trying to get in touch with you all week. I know this is what the Lord wants me to do!" He continued, his agitation growing, "Now get the picture. Me and Colson are standing on the set. There is an audience in the studio--maybe a couple hundred people. I've been trying all week to get somebody in Virginia Beach to get me through to Colson. I mean, I'm as sure as I've ever been that I've got a message from the Lord--a message that God wants me to communicate. I called and they said as far as they were concerned I was only allowed to give my testimony, but they said they would give Mister Colson the message that I needed to talk to him. So I get down there the day before the show and I don't hear a word from Chuck."

I interrupted, "Chuck?"

"Colson. That's his name: Chuck."

I nodded.

"Okay. The next morning I go in for make-up and Colson breezes in, says hi, then leaves the room before I can get a word out. The first chance I have to talk to him is when they usher me to the set two minutes before they shoot us live. By this time I'm wired to the max. I've been waiting in the wings for fifteen minutes to go on. And while I'm waiting I'm watching the monitor. They have this segment on abortion. I mean, that's what they talked about just before I went on: abortion. For fifteen minutes. And they showed pictures of dead babies. Bushels of dead babies. Bodies and blood everywhere. And get this! Colson allows as how he figures it's all right to use non-violent civil disobedience to stop people from killing the babies!" He paused and glanced frantically around the room. "I've got the tape! I'll show you!"

I hastily demurred, "No, I believe you; there's no need for that."

"Right. Okay. So there I was. I'm watching these dead babies and I know how to stop it! I'm scheduled to go out there next. I mean, the stage is set. All I have to do is go out there, tell all those Christians watching on TV how to stop it, and I've done my job. Perfect." He smiled radiantly, "I mean there it was. Perfect." His smile vanished. "So I walk out there and for two minutes Colson and I go eyeball to eyeball hot and heavy. I'm swinging my arms, pointing at the monitor that not two minutes before was full of dead babies, and begging him to let me tell them how to stop it. Our mikes are off so nobody in the audience can hear what we're saying, but it has to be obvious we're arguing. Then BAM! the stage director says, 'Fifteen seconds. Please take your seats.' Chuck stares at me and I stare back. It's like this maximum energy contest of wills. I blink and I lose; I surrender. I throw up my hands, sit down, and do exactly what I'm told to do. I spend my seven minutes talking about ancient history--what the Lord did in my life ten years ago." He stopped and an absolutely hideous parody of a smile crossed his face before he said, "I was a gooood boy."

"Well, Neal, I can see..."

"And--get this--the next day, I wake up in my own bed and the first thing I do is flash on how miserable and anxious I would have been if I'd bucked. I see clearly what would have happened if, when the camera came on, I'd said, 'Chuck I don't think the Lord wants me to talk about what He did for me ten years ago; I think He wants me to talk about that He's doing now. And what He's doing Chuck, is showing me how to stop those babies from being slaughtered.'"

I interrupted, "And what would have happened?"

"Every Christian who knows me in this country, and there's a lot of 'em, would have nodded their heads and said, I told you so: he's rebellious, simply not capable of acting under authority. That's why, the morning after the show, I was overwhelmed with relief that I'd cooperated with Chuck. I even wrote him and I told him I was glad I'd cooperated. I told him I knew it would have ruined my chances of being trusted ever again."

I replied, "I'm sure you're right."

He drawled sarcastically, almost contemptuously, "Riiight. That's what all you boys think, isn't it. But it don't work that way. I blew it."

"I have to disagree."

He stopped me, "Why did I cooperate with Chuck? Huh? I thought if I refused it would undermine my opportunities to serve the Lord, right? I'm just out of seminary, right? I'm expecting to get ordained or something, right? If I show I won't follow directions on nationwide TV, how can I expect anybody to trust me to follow directions anytime, right? In other words, how can I expect my elders to ordain me, right?"

Sensing a trap, I did not reply.

"But here's the irony! It's over two years later, and instead of being closer to having a ministry position, I'm farther away than I've been in ten years! You know what I do for a living? I sell pans in flea markets! And the only way I can make a living doing that is to work maybe sixty or so hours a week. How much time does that leave me for a ministry? That's what I get for listening to Colson instead of the Lord."

"I don't think I follow you."

"What does it mean to serve the Lord? You do what He tells you, right? When He says do something, you do it. Well, He told me as clear as I've ever understood anything to take the time on the '700 Club' to tell the Church in the United States of America how to stop legalized abortion. And I didn't do it! I ignored His directions and followed Colson's. I blew it. Royally. No wonder I'm selling pans in the flea market. It's exactly what I deserve. I'm supposed to know better, see. I mean, I've read the Book--in Greek and Hebrew. I've been to seminary. What'd I learn? To play the angles, that's what. When the crunch came and I had to choose to serve God or man when really important stakes were on the table, what did I do? I decided to cozy up to my brothers and show them what a good little obedient boy I was. But my obedience was to them, not to the Lord."

"Neal, you have lost me completely.

"Hey, I know what you mean. It took me awhile to figure it out too. At first, I thought everything was hunky-dory, peachy-keen. Here's what I thought: Now that I'd shown everybody how cooperative I was, my brothers and sisters in the Lord would just flock to hear what I had to say about stopping abortion. I'd just go up the chain of command and things would fall into place because I'd proven I could resist the temptation to speak out of turn. So I began to write letters to Christian leaders involved in the abortion movement and I submitted a project proposal to the elders of the Church I belonged to. Everything decent and in order, right?"

I could feel myself becoming defensive, but I steeled myself and nodded assent.

"So what did I get? My pastor, Jack Debardeleben, is this real pro-lifer, see. I mean he even prays that God will kill off Supreme Court Justices if that's what it'll take to end legalized abortion. He's gung-ho, right? Well, when he finally figures out what my proposal entails, you know what he calls it? Sin. He says my project would be sin. And Curt Young. You know Curt Young?"

"I've heard of him."

"That's right," he said sarcastically, "He's the Executive Director of the Christian Action Council. What a joke! Should call it the Christian Inaction Council. Here's what Young said." He rushed across the room to an end-table, jerked open the drawer, rummaged through some papers and in triumph held one up. He read in a tone normally reserved for homosexual speech-pattern parody, "I do not believe the best course of action for us to follow presently is to encourage as many people as possible to have themselves arrested at sit-ins at abortion clinics throughout the United States. There are a number of reasons for this, but you indicated in your letter that you view all such reasons as 'rationalizations designed to hide our cowardice from ourselves' so I feel reluctant to share the details of what for me, are very real and pressing issues. There was a good deal of frustration and anger in your letter to me, Mr. Horsley, and I can sympathize with that because of the lack of greater progress by the pro-life movement over the years. On this issue certainly, I don't think anger or frustration are sufficient motivations. In fact, I think they can chew people up and destroy them."

He stopped reading and stood surveying me obviously waiting for my reaction.

I thought for a moment, then said, "Since I do not know what you proposed to Mr. Young, I have no way to analyze his response other than to point out that there is great wisdom in his comment concerning the undesirable effects of frustration and anger."

He replied, "I'll tell you about frustration: what's frustrating is all I'm trying to do is what all these "good" christians have always encouraged me to do. I'm trying to serve the least of these among us."

His remark confused me, "I don't understand."

"Listen, when Colson asked me to go to work for Prison Fellowship, neither my wife or I wanted to do it. I had been out of prison only about a year, and the last thing in the world I wanted to do was ever set foot inside of one of them again. The job would keep me on the road half the time, and my wife wasn't too excited about that since we'd just had our second kid. What settled the issue for us was Matthew 25. You know the passage where Jesus talks about the difference between the sheep and the goats?"

I replied, "Certainly."

"Okay, so the difference between the sheep and the goats, the difference between those who stay with the Lord for eternity and those who are cast away from His presence, is whether or not the people served the least among us when they needed help. Right?"

"That's correct."

"Okay, so who's the least among us?"

"Well, Neal, I suppose the least among us is anyone who needs our help: the sick, the poor, the hungry. And, as you must have noticed when you took your job with Prison Fellowship, those who are in prison."

"That's it: that's exactly what happened. When Carol and I were trying to decide what to do with Colson's job offer, I was led to read Matthew 25. I had read it lots of times in the past, but I'd never really heard it. You know what I mean."

"I do."

"Okay, so when I read it, it was just like the Lord was talking to me and putting me in the position to decide just how important His point of view was in my life. It was like He was saying, 'Neal, you have your priorities. Well, these are my priorities. Now what are you going to do about it?' The words in Matthew 25 hit us like a mack truck and destroyed any ability to pretend we were trying to please Jesus if we turned down the offer to go work with people in prison. In my heart, I believed that the people in prison were the least among us. I knew it, because I had been there. I had seen what it's like to be an official outcast of society. I could imagine no group of people who more accurately qualified as the least among us, so I either had to serve them, or I had to admit I was not interested in following Jesus's instructions to serve the least among us."

I replied, "I'm sure you did the right thing. All the reports I've heard indicate the Lord blessed your work with Prison Fellowship."

"Thanks, but that's not the point. Here's the point: my entire understanding of how we serve the Lord, how we keep from being the goat in the Lord's eyes, became connected to our willingness to serve the least among us. What blew me out of the water on this abortion thing was when I realized that, instead of prisoners being the least among us, the unborn babies were it."

I paused, not exactly sure how to respond.

He rushed on, "I had been blind all along. From the day the Supreme Court decreed unborn babies could be legally slaughtered in this nation, they became the least among us Jesus was talking about in Matthew 25."

"Yes, Neal, every right thinking Christian in this nation is aware of the tragedy. As I have said, it is a horrible tragedy, a tragedy that must be stopped. We all agree on that."

"But we can't let the tragedy confuse our priorities, right? We can't get carried away and let this thing get us unbalanced, right?"

"Neal, there is only so much one person can do. As you said, we must be careful to keep our priorities in order."

A look came across Neal Horsley's face that disturbed me. It was a look of superiority, of smug satisfaction, a look at the same time both insulting and challenging. But when he spoke, his tone of voice did not match his expression. His words were syrupy sweet, kind almost, "Do you mind if I read you a little something I wrote. It's a poem. It won't take three minutes."

I nodded assent.

He took out his wallet, removed a folded sheet of paper, and began to read, "The Least Among us," he said and paused. When he continued, his tone of voice changed from the ingratiating, almost fawning tone with which he had commenced to a harsh, sarcastic snarl as the poem continued:

We choose our priorities

About the least among us.

We all have our answers

About the least among us.

We busy ourselves.

Busy, Busy, Busy.

Buzzing like the hive is right,

Buzzing through the day and night,

Exercising our right of choice

About the least among us.

Some say the least are the people on the street.

Some say the lame, the sick, the neighbor we meet.

Some say 'Don't forget your family:

Don't get your priorities all scrambily;

Don't get carried away in the debate

About the least among us.'

Big, Bigger, Biggest,

Little, Lesser, Least.

Diminutive, Superlative--

Only words after all.

The point of reference is our decree

Here in the Modern Age.

We choose who will be set free

Here in the Modern Age.

Popular Sovereignty rules the Day

Here in the Modern Age.

The Consensus tells you what to say

Here in the Modern Age.

Who's the Biggest?

Why whoever you say!

Who's the Least?

Have your own way!

Say this is that and that is this,

Say whatever you want just make a list.

Say good is bad? Why, why not?

Say big is small, say round is tall,

Say whatever you want to say at all

About the least among us.

But I say, Suffer the little children to come unto me.

As for the least you know what to do.

I made them you know, I decreed them to be.

I gave them my Spirit, the same as to you.

Now I hear your self-serving blather

Now I hear your cowardly patter

Now I hear your talk of priorities

While the god of this world slaughters...

The least among us.

I was offended not by what he said but by the way he said it. I saw his point, the point of the poem, and I must admit I thought his point was well taken. I, or no reasonable person, would deny that the unborn do qualify as the most readily verifiable empirical referent for the concept of "least"--among people. I suspect that I had had similar sentiments as those expressed in the poem, although I would never have expressed them in quite those terms. So I ignored the resentment I felt and tried to show Neal I was on his side. I said, "Neal, I think you've made a good point. An undeniable point. What exactly do you propose we do for the least among us?"

"I'll tell you what I propose." He held up his fingers, "One: a date is chosen for the First National Day of Resistance that will give ample lead time to mobilize people. Two: local leaders are identified and brought together for a strategy council. Three: baby-butcher shops are targeted and team leaders appointed for every metropolitan area in the nation. Four: non-violent resistance seminars are scheduled in each metropolitan area to train local volunteers in the tactics and absolute necessity of non-violent resistance. Five: press notification occurs at local, state and national levels outlining the goals of the First National Day of Resistance. Six: on the date designated, every baby-butcher shop in this nation will kill no babies. You get it?"

"No."

He ignored my comment, took a deep breath, and continued as if reciting memorized text, "We will launch an unremitting, simultaneous series of offensives designed to shut down every baby-butcher shop in the nation. The First National Day of Resistance, if successfully implemented, will accomplish one of two things: at worst, every clinic in the country will choose to shut down to avoid the massive confrontation; at best, those baby-butcher shops who try to conduct business will be shut down in the most powerful display of non-violent civil disobedience in the history of the United States."

I started to speak but he interrupted, "Now look at this: in addition to the obvious impediment to baby butchering, the First National Day of Resistance will prove that abortion can be halted in this nation for one day. The significance of that visible fact cannot be over stressed. Were it to be demonstrated that abortion can be stopped for one day, a dynamic would be unleashed that can, and will, move many thousands of people to follow the example set by those participating in the First National Day of Resistance so that a Second National Day of Resistance would occur, and a Third and a Fourth, with the numbers involved growing each Day, and the Days occurring ever closer together, until the business of legal abortion could no longer be conducted because of the mass of people piled in the doorways of the baby-butcher shops of this nation."

His enthusiasm mounted, "Can you see it? We'd have them. Imagine the results of massive waves of unremitting, simultaneous non-violent obstruction offensives directed against every baby-butcher shop in the nation. Thousands of people will be thrown into an already overcrowded criminal justice system. There will be no way to give them due process; due process will be destroyed, and with it our system of justice. See, our system requires every citizen to receive due process. With all those thousands of protesters to deal with, the authorities will either be forced to suspend due process, or bypass violent criminals in order to provide space and time for the thousands of abortion resistors. In either case, the public will be face to face with a virtually unprecedented crisis in law enforcement, a crisis that will threaten the very foundation of law and order in this society. Then the people will have to decide. They'll have to decide whether legalized abortion is worth the destruction of this nation." He paused, "How 'bout them apples?"

I was flabbergasted and showed it, "Well, I can see why your pastor would call your proposal sinful. If an idea like that were actually implemented, chaos could break loose in this country. Nowhere in Scripture is there permission or precedent for such a response by Christians."

He leaned back in his chair and a look I can only call cunning crossed his face. Almost nonchalantly, he stated, "You're saying, then, that God would not allow us to do this because it could result in chaos sufficient to bring down this form of government, right?"

I was quick to interject, "I did not say your plan would work. Nor is it likely that, even if it worked, disorder sufficient to cause real damage would be created. But the potential for real chaos is there. I am convinced God would have us avoid that."

"What if I could show you that God will inevitably destroy this nation unless legalized abortion is abolished? Would you consider my idea then?"

"Something like what you are proposing could only be justified as an absolute last-ditch response."

He leaped to his feet, "Last Ditch! That's it! Brother, I am in the last ditch!"

"Well, fortunately Neal, the rest of us are not there with you."

With a sarcastic, near loathsome, smile, he snarled, "Oh, you're there, my brother, you just won't face it."

I decided the time had come to confront his hypocrisy. "Neal, please sit down. There's something that has me confused. I have listened to your impassioned analysis of the abortion tragedy, and I have no doubt your words are sincere. But I've done some checking, and those in a leadership capacity in the pro-life movement tell me they have no knowledge that you have participated in any way in their ongoing attempt to stop the carnage you talk about. In other words, Neal, it appears you have done nothing beyond what would be accurately defined as idle talk."

Deep anger literally shook his body before he responded. He locked me in his gaze and spoke, "Oh, I went one time--to one of their so-called pro-life demonstrations. Here's what we did: about a hundred of us walked around in a circle at the baby-butcher shop. These girls and women would come walking up. It was obvious they were there to kill their babies. We had counselors who asked them politely not to go in. The rest of us just kept walking around, waving our signs and singing songs. I couldn't handle it. I started screaming at them. 'DON'T KILL YOUR BABY!' I screamed. 'DON'T KILL YOUR BABY!' So the demonstration leader came up real quick and says to me, 'I understand your reaction,' he says, 'but you must stop that; it is counter-productive.'" Neal Horsley paused, then continued, "Well, I managed to last out the morning, but when I got home, I was so torn up inside I cried for a long time. I knew the next time I went to an abortion clinic I had to stop the women from going in."

I told him, "I'm confused. There are groups actively engaged in obstructing access to these clinics. I'm not recommending that you participate in their activities, but, given your apparent convictions about this issue, I don't see how you could refuse." He started to interrupt but I continued, "Surely you can see your refusal to cooperate in their activities appears hypocritical."

"You don't know me. Once I start fighting the law, I don't stop until they lock me up or kill me."

"Aren't you being a little melodramatic?"

"You don't know why I went to prison before: I do. I ended up in prison because I decided a law had to be changed. I know how I act. Once I start, I don't stop 'til the man immobilizes me."

I couldn't fathom what I was hearing. "Are you somehow relating this situation to your past?"

"Yeah. This is exactly what happened to me with the marijuana law. I decided I'd go to jail if necessary to change the law. I was going to be a hero, see. I was going to save the day for all us heads."

"Heads?"

"Pot-heads. That's what they called us. Anyway, I went for it; I fought the law. And when I got busted, I looked around and all my pot-smoking buddies were still hunched down in the bushes, smoking dope and waving bye-bye as I went to prison. That ain't happening no more."

I could not stifle an expression of incredulity. "Are you actually suggesting there is some parallel between legalized abortion and illicit drug use?"

"Yeah. Christians are like pot-heads; they think a law needs to be changed, but they won't do anything about it if it costs 'em something important, like their freedom or something. And just like pot-heads, Christians are willing to treat people taking risks for them like heroes. But the people going to jail for shutting down baby-butcher shops are not heroes: they're scapegoats. I ain't playing that game no more. I ain't called to be no scapegoat."

I saw nothing to be gained by challenging the sinful attitude toward drugs he had revealed. Instead, I tried to stay to the point. "You seem to be contradicting yourself. On the one hand, you suggest everybody should involve themselves in civil disobedience to stop abortion; yet, on the other hand, you say those who do so are scapegoats. Your logic is confusing, to say the least."

He rubbed his hands across his face in frustration, then said, "Here's my point: if only a few people do it, it doesn't work; they do not stop abortions; they're a bunch of heroes who end up as scapegoats. If twenty or thirty or a hundred thousand people did it, we'd shut down the system and force this nation to change the law. I can't leave my family unless my actions actually can save all those babies. That's what it takes: a plan that is so obviously effective that to refuse to participate is clear treason against the Lord, obvious cowardice." There was a long pause before he added, "What's eating me up is the knowledge that if we don't stop legalized abortion, the lives of my family are in imminent danger of being destroyed."

Without being flippant, I asked him, "Repent, the end is near. Is that it?"

He stopped pacing and faced me. "You don't have the foggiest idea what we've done do you?"

I tried not to be offended, but my words gave me away, "You're going to tell me though, aren't you."

In an amazing leap in subject, he declared, "This nation has already entered the Communist camp."

His statement absolutely boggled my mind. For the first time, I questioned his sanity and, consequently, felt deep alarm for my safety.

He read my reaction correctly and stated, "You think I've lost it, don't you? You think I've gone over the thin ragged edge."

To say the least, I was not interested in continuing the conversation.

But he persisted, "What is Communism? You think it's something to do with economic theory, right? Well, you're wrong. Communism, at heart, is a statement about God. Communism defines God as the will of people. That's Communism."

Almost against my will, I caught a glimmer of connection between this statement and his attitude toward abortion.

He saw he had captured my attention. Quickly, he took his seat, leaned toward me, put his elbows on his knees and spoke, "You see it, don't you? When we legalized abortion, we, the people, said that the will of the mother takes precedence over the will of God. Do you see it?"

"You mean..."

"That's it! God decreed that the baby be conceived--that was the will of God at work. God conceives babies. But the Supreme Court said the mother could demand that God's will be overruled. That's what abortion does; it overrules a decision made by God. Ultimately, that's what the Communists believe. They believe there is no Sovereign Creator whose will has to be obeyed. They believe people are the final ruling force on earth. Roe v. Wade put us in the Communist camp."

Something stirred within me and for the first time I think I glimpsed what was happening in Neal Horsley's mind. "You're suggesting the United States is in danger of becoming a Communist nation?"

"I'm saying the United States of America is a Communist nation. Is a Communist nation! We are communicating precisely the same message about God that is communicated by the Soviet Union. We are saying there is no Creator God whose Will is Sovereign. At the point where the will of God is most clearly seen to operate--the conception of human life--we are saying God's will is subject to the will of the mother. At heart, we are now a Communist nation."

"But, Neal, that simply is not true. Millions of Christians live in this nation who will never admit there is no God."

"Every day that goes by we allow this nation to act as if the will of the mother can overrule the will of God. Every day we allow God's decree of new life to be aborted. How can we say we believe this God exists?"

"Neal, we know this God exists. And we are trying to stop the abortion of those babies."

He screamed at me, "How long do you think God is going to put up with it, huh? How long!"

"Neal, God's patience is great. You know that. What we cannot do is allow ourselves to be led into sin through zealotry."

"So you got God's patience figured out, huh? How long's he give us, huh? You think his patience is infinite?"

"I didn't say that. I am sure there is a limit to his patience. No, I can't say that. God's patience is infinite, unlimited. But, at the same time, He will not endure rebellion forever. That's what I mean to say. But, one thing is clear, I am sure God would not have us act precipitously."

"Get down and booga-loo on your big ol' long-lettered words, you smart talkin' thing! That's what we need from you theologians! Boy, you such a blessing to me! I just want to tell you how glad I am you stopped by to minister to me! You just bless my socks off!"

In his tone and his demeanor I saw no room to continue the conversation. I began to gather my things.

"What's your hurry!? Why you have to rush off!? Why you in such a hurry!?" Mocking, sarcasm possessed him, "Well, go on then. Get outta here--go on! But I tell you one thing: you ain't heard the last of this yet!"

In this, at least, he was correct.

DAY TWO: THE CONFRONTATION CONTINUES

At this point in the imaginary dialogue, I had defined the problem that I believed encompassed all Christians in the United States, a problem created by our inability, or unwillingness, to define priorities as the God revealed in the Bible would define them. Even though I had proposed a solution to the problem--what I came to call the kamikaze strategy--I knew that such a strategy was unworkable until Christians understood how politics fit into a Christian world view. I continued my imaginary dialogue in order to help construct a Christian theory of politics.

DAY TWO

(Dr. Al Terego continues:)

On arising the next day, my conscience immediately began to trouble me. I soon realized that my flight could be called nothing if not precipitous. My words came back to haunt me: "I am sure the Lord would have us do nothing precipitously." I saw no alternative but to resume the conversation with the goal of arriving at a conclusion different from the preceding day. Neal Horsley seemed unsurprised at my telephone request for another interview and greeted me cordially at his door.

I began, "Quite frankly, I do not think either of us acquitted ourselves well yesterday. I admit my flight was without sufficient provocation; and I hope you are willing to admit that your language and behavior did little to persuade me to lend a friendly ear."

He smiled, quite sincerely I believe, then added, "I'll try to do better today."

"Good," I said, "I think we both must keep in mind at all times, especially when discussing an issue as incendiary as abortion, the Lord's word, 'In all things, speaking the truth in love...' "

He interrupted me, "Hey, I know I'm having a hard time loving how the Church is dealing with this problem. I'm trying to love. But I can't help feeling we're all failing to show love for those babies. I'm trying to speak the truth in love, but I get so dadblamed frustrated trying to get anybody to listen to me..." His voice trailed off.

"Neal, I think I understand. That's why I'm here. I want to help you."

"Look," he said, "We can't possibly show love if we don't speak the truth and do the truth. Right? No matter how lovey-dovey we appear, we're not really loving unless we speak the truth. Right?"

"That's correct."

"Well, that's what I'm trying to do; I'm trying to speak the truth." His voice caught, "Because I really do want to love."

I replied, "Neal, I believe you."

Having decided nothing was to be gained by more specific admonition concerning his behavior, I turned to the most obvious error in his previous analysis. "Now yesterday your leap from abortion to Communism took me totally by surprise. Obviously you have given much thought to the subject and I suspect I erred in not giving you a chance to explain yourself fully. Why don't you do that now."

He began, "I really am sorry I was so hostile yesterday. Evidently I made a mistake about you. You surprised me by coming back, I didn't figure you would. You got more guts than I figured."

I smiled to encourage him.

He regarded me silently for a moment, then continued, "Yeah, I've spent a lot of time thinking about all this. That's my problem: the more I thought about it, the more I saw how all these things were connected. But I reached the place where there were so many things connected that to tell anybody about them took a long time, and because nobody apparently had seen some of the connections I saw, when I tried to tell people about them, they thought I was whack-o."

I tried to smile sympathetically.

He continued, "I think you can understand what I see if you see the connection between theology and politics."

My eyebrows shot up. "Theology and politics."

"That's right. See, theology is the study of God that leads to conclusions concerning the nature, plan and purpose of whatever is identified as God. Theology and politics are related because politics is the process where the will of people is exercised in carrying out, in implementing, in realizing, whatever people have concluded is the plan and purpose of whatever they have identified as God."

"Are you saying..."

"I'm saying all political action has at its root theological conclusions."

I replied, "That would be a difficult position to defend."

"Not really. I think we all sense it; we just haven't focused on it enough for it to be common sense."

"Common sense?"

"Yeah. The things we all sense in common. Common sense."

"Oh," I said.

He began to warm to his subject, "And everybody knows some things already. Like this: everybody would agree that God is whatever it is that controls everything. That's God. Right?"

"Certainly that is one of God's attributes."

"Okay, look here: the reason some people say there is no God is because they can't see anything that controls everything. But even those people would agree that if there was something that controlled everything, that thing would have to be called God. Right?"

As a good active listener I reinforced him, "So you're developing something of a generic definition of God."

He smiled, "I like that--a generic definition. Yeah. Well, check it out: Jacques Ellul...you know him?"

"I've heard of him, but I've not read him extensively."

"Right. Well, he says the god of this world is the fact. Get it? God is fact."

"You mean, it is a fact that there is a God?"

"No, that's not what he's saying. What Ellul means is that whatever we hold as fact controls us the same way a God is theoretically assumed to control reality. Like this: if a person stood on a thirty story building, he wouldn't jump off the building. Why? Because he knows it's a fact he'd splatter his butt when he hit the ground. Right? That is, he wouldn't jump unless he wanted to splatter his butt. But even then his behavior would be controlled by what he held to be a fact. Get it?"

"Vaguely."

"Okay, try it this way. Before, in my example, we had a normal person on the building. Right? One who believed it was a fact that a person who jumps off a building has to hit the ground hard. But look at an abnormal person--say somebody freaked out--suppose they think they can fly, and jump off the building. Okay, they hit the ground...splash. But look why they jumped. They thought it was a fact they could fly. Get it? What they held as fact controlled their behavior. That fact was their god."

"So you are saying that if we can identify whatever it is that controls people, we can identify their operative God."

He smiled triumphantly. "Check it out! Real-world theology! And the bottom line is, whatever people hold as fact is their real-world god."

"I'm not entirely comfortable with your reasoning, but for the sake of this discussion I'll concede your point. Where does this take us?"

"It takes us straight to politics. Politics is the process people have created to make the world line up with whatever they have perceived as fact. For example, look what happens when a lot of people decide we don't have enough oil and, besides, people are going too fast anyway, so they lower the speed limit from seventy to fifty-five miles an hour. Those perceived facts--not enough oil and too much speed--forced them to take political action. The will of their god was being carried out in the world."

"I think I see the problem in your thought-process: you're confusing the will of man and the will of god. The example you gave does not demonstrate the will of god at work; it demonstrates the will of people."

He gazed at me with something approaching pity. "The reason you say that is because you have a concept of God that has been formed by reading the Bible and being taught about the God revealed in the Bible. But that God is not the only power vying for control of the mind of man. That is Ellul's point. Whatever we hold as fact actually controls us. Now if we determine our facts based on what the Bible tells us, it can be said that God controls us. If we arrive at factual conclusions independent of that God, then we serve another god, that's all."

"You are confusing me. There are many facts that are not addressed in Scripture. Your example is one: the appropriate speed limit on our interstates is not a subject for biblical exegesis."

He yelled, "But it is! That's my point! At the root of eery political decision can be seen assumptions about the goal and purpose of our existence. Every law we pass, every political decision we made, reveals something about the things we hold to be true, to be facts, about the meaning and purpose of life. Look at the speed limit. By lowering it we are saying it is a fact we should reduce highway fatalities, that we should conserve energy. Why? Because if we don't our survival is threatened. So what are we revealing? We are saying it is a fact that our survival is the fundamental consideration in deciding how our world is arranged. That fact, that foundational presupposition, is the god that directs our political actions. Because so many people were controlled by that fact, and because the superficial facts of diminishing fuel resources and unacceptable highway fatalities demonstrated our survival was jeopardized, the speed limit was reduced from seventy to fifty-five miles per hour."

"Neal, I confess a certain admiration for the flow of your logic, but I see no connection between these points and all that's gone before."

"Yeah. That's what I said. Nobody sees them. But they're there. Check it out. Look what happens when we decide that survival is the reason for our existence. It becomes a fact that whatever keeps us alive is good. And that's precisely what the Communists have concluded. To them, survival is an end in itself; and the end justifies the means."

"Neal, I don't think the Communists are the only ones who think that way."

His face lit up in a huge grin. "You get it, don't you? You're beginning to see the connection between theology and politics."

I smiled ruefully and shook my head in denial. "Not really. But I do have a sneaking suspicion it might be possible to draw a connection."

"It's all about survival: there's the connection. And the

connection can most clearly be seen when we examine the reasons why people in this nation are willing to support legalized abortion. At first glance, it would look like killing millions of babies would fly in the face of all our survival goals. Right?"

I nodded assent.

"Look, you've got to understand that the Communists have a strategy for obtaining eternal life. The Communist mind has constructed a world view that sees a way in reality for mankind to live forever without the outside assistance of a Personal, wholly-other God like the God described in the religions of the people of the Book--the Jew, the Christian, and the Muslim. The industrial revolution, for the first time in history, has created technological tools that make total control of reality by man a reasonable possibility. We've got to see clearly that today people can find a hope for eternal life that does not depend on our God. What had been the factually unsupported hope of the Enlightenment and the Age of Reason became, in our lifetime, a real factual possibility."

"Neal, you don't really believe that?"

"No, listen, I do not mean that people think we can eliminate every threat to mankind's survival in our lifetime. I'm saying that in our lifetime the grounds for believing such a time can come in the future has become a reasonable possibility. People can believe it is a fact that technological tools, coupled with faith in the inevitability of progress, can eliminate the cause of death on this planet. And that is precisely what the Communists' believe. They hold that as fact. And the United States of America is filled with them. I'm surrounded by Communists!"

In spite of myself I laughed.

Surprisingly, he smiled ruefully himself and said, "Weird, ain't it?"

"A little," I agreed.

He smiled and continued, "To see how weird, you got to know where I'm coming from. Before I surrendered To Jesus, I was this hippy-dippy anti-war type. Get this: I was communist to the core and didn't know it. I thought Communism was this economic theory or something. I never really thought much about it. But at the same time, I bought completely the idea that if we'd just hang in there and not blow it, we could overcome every problem on this planet and live forever. What little I knew about the Bible I tended to interpret as perfectly compatible with that idea." He paused and regarded me silently, obviously waiting for me to respond to his last comment.

"Well, Neal, I suspect many people do what you did."

He actually wiggled his eyebrows and said, "Dig it." Then he continued, "See how it fits together. The only way Communists can support hope for eternal life is to eliminate the causes of death on this planet. In order to eliminate the cause of death they must define those causes precisely. But this is not a simple process; it's complicated. A warfare analogy will explain what I mean. In warfare, we first identify the enemy as individual people who are causing changes in the Balance of Power in the world. For instance Hitler, Tito, Mussolini. Then we recognize that those people are simply spokesmen for many more people named Heinz, Hirohito, or Gregonni. Finally, we lump all those people together under a general heading, a word, like Germany, or Italy, or Japan.

"Now in peacetime, since death still operates as an ever-present enemy, our vigilance and strategy for death's elimination still operates, but instead of people, we identify as the cause of death other forces like cancer, heart attack, AIDS, etc. As the mind of man surveys those various causes of death it seeks a more general category that will assist in identifying the underlying causes, the root cause, of cancer, etc.; something similar to what is done in identifying a nation as the real enemy lurking behind the work of individual leaders." His eyes gleamed with the delight of discovery.

"Now here's where abortion comes in. For over twenty years there has been a growing consciousness in developed nations concerning the role of pollution as an underlying cause of the things that kill us,like cancer and so on. Whether the pollutants be identified as industrial, leading to the pollution of streams and rivers, which in turn lead to the destruction--the death--of wildlife, or pollution that poisons the watertable and leads to a rise in the incidence of cancer, our thinking has been led to see the role of pollutants as a major, if not the major, cause of death. Since most of us are deeply influenced by the Communist vision of eternal life, a near consensus is growing in this nation concerning the fundamental necessity of pollution elimination. The examples abound: cigarette smoking as the cause of cancer; drug use as the cause of crime; drunkenness as the cause of automobile accidents; cholesterol as the cause of heart disease--all these pollutants must be eliminated."

I started to interrupt but he anticipated my comment and stated, "Obviously, I am not suggesting the elimination of pollutants is wrong--somehow ungodly. That's preposterous. What I am trying to show is how sensitive we have all become to the role of pollutants as an underlying cause of death, and to demonstrate how we have all been trained to see great significance in the elimination of pollutants. I do this because I want to analyze another problem that began to grow in our consciousness about twenty years ago: an overpopulated planet." He took a deep breath, then continued, "Twenty years ago, or thereabouts, a massive communication exercise began throughout the world. The goal was to convince people our planet could not support an infinite number of bodies. And it worked. The specter of mass starvation and global war created by the scramble for rapidly dwindling resources made my generation the first generation in this nation to become convinced it had an obligation to reduce family size in order to ensure the survival of our species."

He paused, then ran his hand through his hair and continued, "Is it any surprise that, in our minds, babies became identified as potential pollutants? Armed with the certain knowledge of the self-evident rightness of the survival of our species, my generation throughout the world began to look for ways to control this source of pollution. Paradoxically, sexual taboos began to be erased at the same time. Sexual self-restraint was obliterated, and a flood of unwanted babies was the result. My generation was then given the 'right' under law to serve the cause of Zero Population Growth by killing our unborn babies. The Holocaust came."

As he spoke, I began to feel a sense of dread. I knew he was going to turn his eyes toward the Church.

He continued, "And look how the Church responded. We created the 'Pro-life' movement. Right?"

I nodded assent.

"Okay. Has the 'Pro-life' movement actually demonstrated we have a different answer to the question of life than the Communists? The Communists say survival is the goal of life. Right? Okay, what does the Christian believe is the reason for life--our life?"

Sometime much earlier in this conversation I had known this question was coming and therefore had the answer immediately available. "To glorify God," I answered.

"BINGO!" he yelled. "That's why Christians can never actually become Communists and remain Christians. Our answer to the big questions are diametrically opposed. We cannot maintain that the reason for life is to glorify God and, at the same time, believe the reason for life is survival. We have to choose which of those facts we believe is the truth. After everything has been said and done, we all know Jesus chose to sacrifice his survival in order to glorify God."

"That's correct, Neal. But he gained eternal life thereby." "YEEESSS!" He yelled like a tent preacher on the sawdust trail. "That's how we survive, ain't it? And it don't make a lick of sense to anybody but us, does it?" He paused, changed his tone to one of deadly seriousness and added, "And sometimes I wonder how much sense it makes to us."

"What do you mean?"

"C'mon. Look how we've responded to abortion. I've seen it happen every time. We show films of dead babies and all the Christians start grunting and groaning and crying and saying, have mercy, have mercy. Then they start talking about how we've got to do something, we've got to do something." He formed a smile of sarcastic pity, "And they do, God bless-em. They write a letter to their Congressman, and they join their local Pro-life group, and maybe they even take up picket-duty at the local baby-butcher shop. And that's all ninety-nine percent of 'em do. Then the other one percent hurls themselves into the arms of the law by sitting in and getting arrested, or maybe even burning one of the places down. And not a one of 'em denies two cardinal facts: one, abortion is murder; and two, God is going to destroy this nation unless legal abortion is stopped. That's a summary of the Pro-life activities and consensus."

"I imagine that's an accurate summary."

"Okay. Here's my point: does any of that glorify God?"

There was an extraordinarily long pause as I searched for an answer to his question. Finally, I said, "Neal, I doubt if any of us are entirely comfortable with our response."

He exploded. "We're impotent! F-----g impotent!"

"Well, there is one thing for sure, that kind of language certainly does not glorify God."

His immediate response was to glare at me as if he intended to unload a stream of invective designed to illustrate that the former obscenity was the mere tip of an iceberg of verbal abuse. Slowly, though, he calmed and, finally, hung his head. "I'm sorry. I don't want to offend you."

"Neal, you must understand that we all want to see this Holocaust stopped."

He came back as strong as before, "Hey, I don't doubt that for a minute. All of us would love for it to disappear. The problem is we aren't willing to pay a price to stop it."

"That's not true. You said yourself that millions of Christians are trying to stop it."

"Yeah, but look what we do. For fifteen years the great bulk of Pro-life response has taken the form of legal protest mechanisms we would have used if we were dealing with a tax inequity. Does this response signal to the world that the nation is in imminent, dire danger because of what we are doing to the unborn? Has the image created by the Pro-life movement helped the world grasp the threat created by this Holocaust, or have we, in fact, reinforced people in thinking they can kill the unborn without ultimately facing the wrath of God? In other words, if we were a people who seriously considered it possible that there is a God here who is committed to destroying nations that violate His law, would we have waited fifteen years to remove from our statutes the violation of God's law that provoked such a possibility? In Idi Imin's Uganda, such a wait would be seen to be absolutely necessary; there, it would be suicidal for a small minority of Christians to expect to force an insane dictator to change oppressive laws. And such a wait could easily be defended in Poland today. But in the United States of America? Where the great majority is conscious of the power to rule? And where the great majority profess themselves to be Christians? Get serious! Either we're ignorant or we're cowards. One or the other. I'm not sure which. Most of the time I think we're cowards. I think the only thing that has kept us from changing the laws is we know to do so we will have to pay a terrible price. The fact is, no matter what the reason, we act like unbelieving cowards. We act like we're more afraid of man's law than God's wrath. Is it any wonder that here, each year, a million and a half women kill their babies without any definite sense of impending doom, when the people who are supposed to be sensitive to the God of the Bible display little sense of the doom themselves."

I saw it was impossible to staunch the torrent of words.

"Instead of communicating a sense of growing catastrophe in our midst, we are communicating that abortion is a political issue like other political issues, to be dealt with through ordinary political means. But the world interprets the response of the law-abiding Christians as evidence that all that is being violated by the abortion laws is a code of ethics--the Christian code of ethics. They see nothing in the image or the message created by the Pro-life movement that makes them understand we know that behind the code of ethics we follow is a God--mighty in power, awesome to behold, and terrible in His wrath--a God who is a consuming fire. We do not communicate that God's wrath is poised to fall on this nation because this nation has accepted a law that is a direct slap in His face, a law that is the same in effect as if we had outlawed God Himself, a law that has placed the United States of America in the Communist camp."

"Neal, I know you..."

I couldn't begin to slow him down.

"I suggest that the world sees the reaction of the law-abiding Christians and perceives an image, an image that leads the world to realize our words are hollow. The world sees that, in the final analysis, we are just like everyone else. They see we are self-centered and self-interested, totally unwilling, even in a situation we define as destined to destroy this nation, to do anything that might actually cost us that which is most important to us--our freedom and, God forbid, even our lives. In short, I suggest the world looks at the actions of the law-abiding Christians in the Pro-Life movement and, instead of seeing the Body of Christ, sees hypocrites playing God-games, sees people just like themselves who see their own survival as the real meaning of life. I'm telling you, we act like a bunch of Communists!"

I felt like I was grasping at straws, "Neal, you mentioned earlier that a certain percentage of Christians had taken a much stronger stand, had even broken the law to stop abortion."

Again he yelled, "They're not stopping abortion, they're just being a nuisance. Sure, the sit-ins can stop a few people from going into baby-butcher shops, but the next day they're back and the babies are dead; and, sure, a few babies have been saved, there's no doubt about it; but we use that to salve our conscience, to help us ignore the fact that four thousand babies will die today and tomorrow and every day until we stop it. Instead of showing us how to stop abortion, those people seem to be proving that non-violent civil disobedience is an ineffective tactic to take. And that's wrong. What they're doing is exactly what has to be done, it just has to be coordinated and manned with enough people to shut 'em down and keep 'em shut. Those people have no vision! That's what I'm trying to do! I'm trying to give us a vision! Without a vision, the people perish!"

"And the project you outlined for me yesterday is the vision that can solve this problem?"

"That's it. That's what we've got to do. That's what it's going to come down to. Can't you see! We're in the last ditch! We've watched twenty million babies be slaughtered in this nation alone! How much longer do you think God will allay His wrath?"

"Neal, that is an extremely difficult question to answer."

As if brakes had been applied to a speeding vehicle, Neal Horsley halted. After a long pause he said, "You know why I think God hasn't come down harder on us before now?"

"No, why?"

"He knows the reason we're afraid to force the law to be changed is because we're ignorant. He knows we haven't been led to understand our responsibilities under the law."

I bristled, "I think most of us have a grasp of those responsibilities."

"You know, and I know, that today--this very day--within a few miles of where we sit babies are being slaughtered, and you want me to believe we understand our responsibilities under the law? That means you want me to believe that there is somehow a law that requires me to stand by when I know innocent babies are being slaughtered and allow it to happen."

"Well, Neal, that is the law that was established in Roe v Wade."

He screamed, "That law is a lie! And a law that is a lie is no law at all!"

I tried to calm him, "Neal, it is a fact that the law is the law."

He calmed immediately and stared at me condescendingly, "That's your definition, huh? The law is the law."

"No, what I meant by that..."

"I know what you meant. You meant that because the Supreme Court said it, it has to be the law."

"That's correct. The Supreme Court has the authority to state the rules that govern this nation, and God has commanded us to obey those laws. Romans Thirteen makes it clear that..."

"Look, everything we have been talking about has been leading to this point. A law is not just anything people say it is, even if they sit on the Supreme Court. A law is something as real and tangible as you and I."

"Neal, a law is..."

He interrupted, "What! What is a law?"

"Well, a law is a rule that governs our behavior and defines our responsibilities."

He smiled at me with an eerie gleam in his eye. "And what is a rule?"

"Well, a rule is...uh...a principle that states...uh..."

He yelled, "That's it! A law is a rule is a principle is a law. Round and round we go and where we stop nobody knows!"

"Neal, I didn't state myself precisely."

"No! You did! You said exactly what the dictionary says. Look it up!" He dove for a large dictionary on a nearby coffee table. He thrust it in my face. "The dictionary says a law is a rule. Look up 'rule," and it is defined as a principle. Look up 'principle' and it is defined as a law. It's a circle and nowhere is law defined in a way that allows us to see the thing itself--the thing called law. We're left to conclude that a law is anything people say it is. But it's not!"

I confess I took the dictionary and began to thumb through it as much to give the atmosphere time to calm as to see the definition. After having looked up "law" "rule" and "principle," I was forced to gaze across at what I knew would be a face gloating in superior knowledge. It was not easy for me to say, "I suppose you have a more accurate definition."

He crowed in delight, "You got it! I know what a law is! And it ain't just whatever we say it is! See, that's our problem! Nobody has taken the time to make sure we know what the word means."

"Well, obviously Neal, the dictionary suggests there is no one definition that fits all the various usages of the word."

"The dictionary is wrong! There is a definition for law; it's just not in the dictionary. That's why real communication about the law is so difficult."

"Neal, I'm not even sure what you mean by 'real communication.'"

"That's great! Real communication is what you're making me do now! You're making me show you what I mean by real communication. So I'll do it. Real communication is where you see the things my words are trying to point at. Get it!"

"I'm afraid not."

"Okay. Look. These words I use, they're just sounds. Right?"

I nodded assent.

"Okay. But the sounds I use stand for something. They're symbols, see, for some real thing here in the universe. Some referent. Get it?"

"I understan