The development of effective oral contraceptives and their distribution through the medical profession have involved the physician in the complexities of sexual ethics. For Protestants, the greatest tension is likely to be over whether contraceptives should be prescribed for the unmarried girl. The physician may come to this question with one of several perspectives: (1) neutrality; (2) reluctant sanction; (3) broad permissiveness; (4) the historic Christian position.

Neutrality. The physician who assumes a neutral position denies that any ethical choice is involved in his prescribing contraceptives for single girls. He may say the decision belongs entirely to the person who makes the request. But the idea that the physician can remain neutral is illusory. In every moment of the physician-patient relationship there is communication, verbal or non-verbal, that is bound to disclose the physician’s own philosophy of life and ethical stance. If his response serves, however subtly, to favor the patient’s decision to use contraceptives, his claim of neutrality is invalidated.

To comply with an unmarried girl’s request for contraceptives is not simply to transfer the ethical decision to her; it is to take part in the decision. Considerable professional authority is bound up in the role of a doctor. Every prescription he gives is considered to reflect what he feels is best for the patient, and the patient’s acceptance of a prescription implies confidence in the doctor’s ability to make a wise choice. The doctor is paid to make choices for his patients, and he cannot avoid responsibility for the course he recommends.

Reluctant sanction. A physician who is against premarital sex may feel that it is futile for him to take a positive stand in favor of chastity. Thus in reluctant sanction of what seems inevitable, he may say, “If I don’t prescribe the pills, she’ll get them anyway.”

This view seriously underestimates the physician’s moral influence and authority with his patients. In a way unique in human relationships, a patient turns himself over to the physician, revealing the most personal facts about himself and, at times, actually placing his life in the physician’s hands. His confidence is based primarily upon the scientific knowledge and skill he believes the doctor to have, but it also includes a strong component of faith in the doctor’s integrity and respect for his opinion.

The doctor who thinks his patient’s moral decision is beyond the reach of his influence disclaims responsibility for providing help in any but the physical or emotional dimension. And if he begins by trying to deter his patient but then grants her request, he is likely to vitiate any positive value his initial reluctance may have had. A strong position against premarital intercourse, buttressed by an unwillingness to compromise on grounds of expediency, may provide needed moral support to the patient.

In another form of the “reluctant” position, the physician may feel that premarital sex is bad but that an illegitimate pregnancy is worse. His dilemma may be compounded if the patient has already had an illegitimate pregnancy and comes seeking to avoid another. In granting the request for contraceptives, he may be convinced that he is choosing the lesser of two evils.

But the physician must realize that he is balancing a real decision against a contingency, an act that may or may not take place. By refusing, and by throwing the weight of his professional authority behind continence, he may help to avert illicit sexual relations. Granting the request, even though it may seem the lesser of two evils, implies sanction of the anticipated act.

Broad permissiveness. The physician who makes his decision from a broadly permissive attitude that accepts the new morality must weigh the time-honored medical maxim, “to do no harm.” The storm of responsible criticism that descended upon Kinsey, and the contemporary reaction of sober protest against the Playboy Philosophy, reflect not merely a residuum of moral conservatism but a substantial body of conviction that such an ethical code is damaging to human personality. Unlike the preceding positions, the new morality asserts that its roots lie securely in the classical tradition of Western Christianity, with agape—unselfish, self-giving love—as its sole criterion. However, since the system declares freedom from rules, laws, and principles, it has been described by one of its critics as a non-Christian non-system of non-ethics.

The physician endeavoring to practice his vocation as a Christian is under some constraint to evaluate the claims of situation ethics. The situationist asserts that rules and laws may be superseded by the claims of love in a particular situation and thus that premarital sex can at times be constructive and not wrong. The crucial elements for making a decision lie within the situation; “even the most revered principles may be thrown aside if they conflict in any concrete case with love,” says Joseph Fletcher.

Situationist ethicists tend to base their rejection of traditional morality upon one of three assertions:

1. Christian morality must be modified, because it is so widely rejected today. Bishop Robinson is undoubtedly partly correct in saying that “the sanctions of Sinai have lost their terrors, and people no longer accept the authority of Jesus even as a great moral teacher.” But it is something else to go on to imply that God’s laws, since they no longer have the support of the majority, should now be restated.

2. There is no such thing as a Christian ethic. Bishop Robinson deprecates the idea of a supranaturalistic ethic that stands for objective moral values and denies that Jesus’ commands were universal principles. In God, Sex and War, John Burnaby calls in question even the possibility of deriving norms from the teachings of Jesus: “An infallible Christ can be of no avail to us, unless we are sure both of what he said and of what he meant by it.…”

These comments, like much situationist quibbling, ignore the overarching fact of Christian ethics, that “the ultimate context of every moral situation is that of the divine will,” involving creation, judgment, and reconciliation. This provides the framework of meaning for all human decision-making. Even though man was created free, his autonomy is circumscribed by God’s sovereignty as Creator and Judge. God’s chastening is inescapable when man rebels in pride and self-centeredness.

Even Jesus’ ethic cannot be properly understood except in the light of the Old Testament conception of God, man, and the world. As E. Clinton Gardner has said, “Although Jesus summarized the whole duty of man in the twofold love commandment, he spoke of many other virtues even more frequently than he spoke of love: and he emphasized the abiding need for ‘the law and the prophets’ to safeguard morality from hypocrisy and sentimentality” (in Storm Over Ethics, Bethany Press, 1967, p. 58).

3. Christian standards of sexual morality are too restrictive. Acceptance of Niebuhr’s view that “the ethical demands made by Jesus are incapable of fulfillment in the present existence of man” surrenders not only the ideals relating to adultery and fornication but also the very capacity to confer unearned and undeserved love—that is, agapism in any form.

Freud examined the Christian ideal, “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself,” and concluded that it is “unpsychological”: “If he is a stranger to me and if he cannot attract me by any worth of his own or any significance that he may already have acquired for my emotional life, it will be hard for me to love him. Indeed, I should be wrong to do so” (“Civilization and Its Discontents”). In regard to unregenerate man, he is right. Only by the intervention of divine grace can we become the channels by which love is bestowed upon the unlovable;

Situationists plead for an empirical ethic, “a morality of involvement and discovery,” but reject the safeguards provided by Scripture and the Church against subjectivism and rationalization. “The Word of the Lord is there—yet not as proposition,” says Bishop Robinson. The right is reserved to abandon entirely the guidance of the Church as “establishment-mindedness.” Love is pried out of its scriptural context and left alone to cope with the caprice of specious logic and self-deception.

The case for chastity is by no means argued solely on religious grounds. It is very apparent, particularly to university psychiatrists, that in our day of greater sexual freedom, sexual problems continue to abound; indeed, sexual inadequacy seems to be increasing. A symposium on premarital intercourse concludes:

Girls and boys of this generation need help in detecting and rejecting … the … subtly, persuasive, fraudulent national propaganda of the new sexual morality.… Four thousand years of Judeo-Christian wisdom cannot be dismissed lightly. There are still valid and urgent reasons for saving sex for the right time, place, and person, within the sanctions of a concerned society [Mervyn S. Sanders, in Medical Aspects of Human Sexuality, April, 1968.]

The historic Christian position. The Christian sexual tradition has its roots in the strict code of the Old Testament, which proscribed extramarital sexual activities on moral and religious grounds. This code was in effect ratified by Jesus as he upheld respect for the commandments. In presenting the new commandment emphasizing love, he did not withdraw the old. As he focused down upon the inner motive, he did not make light of the offense of adultery and fornication (see Mark 7:21).

Paul continued this teaching as he bracketed immorality and adultery with the basic sin of idolatry (1 Cor. 6:9, 10), and described sexual sins as opposed to the activity of the spirit (Gal. 5:19). The emphasis upon chastity that has characterized Christian sexual ethics is thus deeply rooted in biblical teaching.

It would be possible for an eager young physician to rebel against an “authoritarian” pharmacology, “liberate” himself from a “legalistic” Food and Drug code, and set out to administer medications to his patients without benefit of the accumulated wisdom of scientific medicine. Recent medical history makes it easy to imagine the consequences. The same danger of uncontrolled, capricious choice in moral and ethical matters ensues if the Christian heritage of divine and human wisdom is reduced to the level of an obsolescent appurtenance.

From the Bible the Christian derives moral principles that he deductively applies to specific situations. Ethical decisions are motivated by love for God and our fellow men, guided by the Holy Spirit and reason. Although there is no specific text in Scripture to settle the contraception issue, the overall scriptural view of the nature of God, man, marriage, and sexual intercourse leads to the conclusion that we have a right to control conception.

God, the Creator and Sustainer of mankind, created us male and female. He designed us physically so that sex relations were possible. And he designed us emotionally with desire that makes sex relations probable. God saw that each thing he created was good; sex is of God, and therefore sex is good.

God created man with reason, judgment, a sense of responsibility, and a will. Therefore man is not governed just by instinct. He can direct many affairs in his own life; he has freedom to use God’s gifts according to his own condition and circumstances. God gave man dominion over the earth, and when man the creature fell, God even gave his Son to be man and to redeem man. The reconciled man therefore seeks God’s will, so that he may exercise his dominion responsibly, for God made man responsible to him. To subdue and have dominion over nature in a manner demonstrating love both to God and to our fellow men is a Christian principle apparent throughout Scripture, from the first chapter of Genesis.

“And God blessed them, and God said to them, be fruitful and multiply.…” Here we note that “be fruitful and multiply” was given by God more as a blessing than a commandment, and certainly not, as a curse. If the human race ceased to be fruitful and multiply, it would disappear in one generation. But God did not say whether we were to multiply by one, two, or ten.

Marriage is an institution ordained by God, and Scripture shows that it has several functions:

1. We do not read in Scripture that woman was created primarily for the propagation of the species; rather, she was created because it was “not good that the man should be alone.” God’s plan provided for a companion who would satisfy the unfulfilled yearning of man’s heart. Woman was created for mutual fellowship and companionship with man, as one with whom he would share love, trust, devotion, and responsibility. This loving companionship, if not the prime scriptural purpose of marriage, is at least as important as the procreative function.

2. Obviously marriage has a procreative function, related, by God’s design, to intercourse. But nowhere does Scripture restrict sex relations to the sole purpose of procreation.

3. In fact, one function of the sexual relationship in marriage that Paul mentions might be called that of a “moral prophylaxis” (1 Cor. 7:9); that is, marriage prevents sexual irregularities in society.

Sexual intercourse is intimately involved with the two major purposes of marriage, companionship and procreation. Its relation to procreation is obvious. However, it also has an important unitive function. While biologically it decreases tension, it involves much more than biology. It involves all the personality, and at its highest level it is a medium of deep communication—physically, psychologically, and spiritually—of concepts and feelings that defy verbal expression: of love, commitment of the whole life, security, interdependence. Oscar E. Feucht has said:

God made marriage for sex and sex for marriage. God made sex one of the means for continuously uniting a man and his wife in the deepest and most realistic way, a unique way in which they are “known” to each other as they could not otherwise know each other, in the fullest expression of mutual love unlike any other demonstration. The “one flesh” concept is basic and dominant in the Bible’s teaching on marriage (Gen. 2:24; Exod. 21:10; Lev. 18; Deut. 24:5; Matt. 19:5, 6; Mark 10:6–8; 1 Cor. 7:2–6; Eph. 5:31) [Sex and the Church, p. 218].

Three additional points call for mention:

1. The scriptural sequence is that marriage precedes intercourse. Therefore fornication, adultery, and prostitution, with or without contraceptives, are not a Christian option.

2. Sharing and meeting each other’s sexual needs is so important that Paul advises against prolonged abstinence (1 Cor. 7:3–5) and implies frequent sexual relations as the norm in marriage, without any mention of procreation.

3. Nowhere does Scripture say that intercourse may not be engaged in primarily for mutual pleasure and satisfaction. God established a physical attraction between the sexes. In the marriage relationship, as the Song of Solomon stresses, sex is a sensuous delight that is to have its normal, healthy role in providing fulfillment and joy for both partners. It is not to be shunned but to be praised.

If, then, Scripture teaches that sexual union has functions other than procreation, under certain conditions conception may be hindered while the other functions are filled. I believe the case is clear that the Christian has a right to control conception.

Most families have some need for contraception, both for their own well-being and for the well-being of society. Whenever a child would be a significant emotional, physical, or economic burden to either a wife or a husband, the couple should consider before God the advisability of having such a child, whether it would be the tenth or the first.

Contraception is the means of preventing the birth of unwanted children. Nothing is more detrimental to a child than to feel that his parents wish he had not been born. Scripture emphasizes the concept of responsible parenthood (1 Tim. 5:8). It is irresponsible for a couple to bring more children into the world than they can nurture spiritually, financially, emotionally, and educationally.

Society as a whole is confronted by the population explosion. In treating disease, we physicians have taken seriously God’s command to subdue nature and have drastically decreased the death rate. The result is a population that is outstripping food supply and economic development. World population was under two billion in 1920 but by 1960 was almost three billion. If the present rate of growth continues, it will be seven and one-half billion by the end of the century. Faced with this acute problem, should we not make as great an effort to prevent new life as to prolong existing life? I believe the Christian’s concern for his neighbor requires him not only to think seriously about the size of his own family but also to become involved in worldwide educational plans that seek to help people see the wisdom of limiting family size.

No person or no law can tell a couple how many children they should have or how they should be spaced. This decision is in the area of Christian liberty. Christians know their entire lives—including their sex lives—belong to God; therefore, they must act with love rather than selfishness. They must observe the times and circumstances in which they are living and, through reason and the guidance of the Holy Spirit, seek to make responsible decisions.

Some factors to be weighed are:

1. Can all the needs of the children—physical, emotional, spiritual, economic, and educational—be met if another child is added?

2. Will another child affect the emotional or physical well-being of the mother or father?

3. Over-production of children may be as sinful as selfish avoidance of parenthood.

4. Economic reasons for contraception are not necessarily selfish. “But if any provide not for his own, and especially for those of his own house, he hath denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel” (1 Tim. 5:8).

5. What is the likelihood of genetically transmitted illness?

6. Some couples do not like children and would make poor parents. I believe they have a right to marital companionship without children.

If the motive for contraception is proper, is the method used of ethical significance? I heartily concur with the statement made by the Augustana Synod of the Lutheran Church:

The means which a married pair uses to determine the number and the spacing of the births of their children are a matter for them to decide with their own consciences, on the basis of competent medical advice and in a sense of accountability to God. So long as it causes no harm to those involved either immediately or over an extended period, none of the methods for controlling the number and spacing of the births of children has any special moral merit or demerit. It is the spirit in which the means is used, rather than whether it is “natural or artificial,” which defines its “rightness” or “wrongness.” “Whatever you do, do all to the glory of God” (1 Cor. 10:31) is a principle pertinent to the use of the God-given reproductive power.

To deal with specific methods, then, lies outside the purpose of this paper. But I would like to comment briefly on three methods. Abstinence is undoubtedly the most effective means of contraception. However, it defeats the whole purpose of sexual intercourse in marriage. Unless it is completely satisfactory to both husband and wife, it would be considered immoral according to the seventh chapter of First Corinthians.

Coitus interruptus (withdrawal prior to ejaculation) is generally unsatisfactory. It often is psychologically frustrating for husband and wife, and it is unreliable.

There are two major objections to the rhythm method. It too is frequently ineffective. And it interferes with the naturalness and spontaneity of the sexual act by ruling out sex relations around the time of ovulation, when sexual desire in the female is often increased.

Sterilization is a method of contraception, and so the moral principles that apply to other methods of contraception apply to sterilization as well. The significant difference is that it is permanent. When a couple feel convinced that they must not have any more children, they might reasonably decide that one of them should be sterilized.

Contraception in Christian marriage not only is permissible but has a very significant value. This point should be made firmly, clearly, and loudly, for the benefit of all Christians who may have lingering doubts.

In the absence of clear teaching in the New Testament on birth control, we must rely heavily upon our knowledge of the social context of Judaism and Hellenism in which early Christianity existed. Wherever Christian faith did not pronounce against the norms of the non-Christian society in which it existed, and wherever its own general teaching does not stand in contrast to specific social practices, we assume that Christianity maintained those practices. In New Testament days, Old Testament marriage laws and practices were still in force in Judaism, with strong emphasis upon the family and procreation within marriage. Judaism generally frowned upon birth control, certainly upon sterilization and abortion, though general famine was seen as a legitimate reason for limiting reproductive efforts and contraceptive devices were allowed for medical reasons.

The Gentile world held a theoretical view resembling that of Judaism, but in practice it followed a lower standard. Although the declared purpose of marriage was procreation, contraception and abortion were widely used. Still, a large number of pagan writers speak of abortion as evil. Not surprisingly, then, very early Christianity, as represented in the Didache and other writings separated from the New Testament by only a brief time, also presented abortion as unlawful.

So we turn to the New Testament with the presupposition that primitive Christianity maintained Judaism’s reservations about birth-control practices and paralleled both Judaism and Hellenism (at its best) in the disavowal of abortion. This does not at all mean, however, that such practices are eternally contradictory to the heart of the New Testament faith and practice.

In the past, it was considered self-evident that the New Testament limited legitimate sexual relationship and human reproduction to marriage. Now even within the Church this view is widely challenged, or abandoned. But still the New Testament is stringent and clear in its rejection of adultery and fornication. There are direct words against such illegitimate sexual relationships (e.g., Mark 10:19; 1 Cor. 6:13 ff.), and they are included in listings of specific sins (Mark 7:21; Rom. 1:29; 1 Cor. 6:9 f.).

On the positive side, marriage is identified as that instrument by which God intends to create “one flesh.” The New Testament emphasizes “one flesh” or “one body” (Mark 10:8; Eph. 5:31) as not only the symbol but also the actualization of the enduring oneness within the marital bond. This underlies a point already present in the Old Testament: “Therefore a man leaves his father and his mother and cleaves to his wife, and they become one flesh” (Gen. 2:24). Neither the Old Testament nor the New speaks of procreation as the end of sexual union. The end is the one flesh, which is the generally indispensable presupposition of the marital union. One must suppose that in the matter of procreation the New Testament simply takes over the Old Testament teaching, in which fruitfulness is a divine blessing added to the one flesh. This, at least, does not close the door on the idea of birth control.

Two Pauline texts are of particular value in the search for a foothold in this matter: First Corinthians 7:1 ff. and First Thessalonians 4:3 ff. The two texts differ somewhat in their development. In the First Corinthians passage, Paul moves out from the affirmation that temptation to immorality comes to each man and each woman and that therefore sexual intercourse is the normal practice within the marital relationship. Since these passions are not confined to husbands and wives, those who are unmarried are advised to marry in order not to live in the flame of passion, which is temptation. He then goes on to observe that there is sanctifying virtue in the married estate—an unbelieving mate is consecrated (sanctified) through the partner. Paul can make this affirmation only on the basic biblical teaching of the one flesh.

First Thessalonians 4:4 is translated in the RSV, “that each one of you know how to take a wife for himself in holiness and honor.” Although the meaning of this verse is disputed, the passage seems to offer a clear parallel to the teaching of First Corinthians 7, especially in its assignment of sanctifying value to the sexual relationship within marriage. Paul’s point of departure here is the sanctification of the believer, which is the will of God. He goes on to develop this with a negative and a positive statement. Sanctification involves abstention from immorality as it is manifested in the pagan, who moves in a passion of lust and transgresses even against his brother. Positively, each man is exhorted “to take a wife for himself in holiness and honor.” The sanctification of the Christian occurs in the honorable and holy—i.e., responsible—enjoyment of the sexual relationship, rather than in the lustful “breaking into the marriage relationship of a brother.” By confining the natural disposition to sexual union, marriage helps to fulfill God’s highest purpose for us—our sanctification. That is to say, the sexual relationship within marriage is assigned a redemptive significance, for one can never think of sanctification without giving attention to the justification that makes it possible and that makes possible our ultimate redemption. However, we are forcefully reminded in the New Testament that the sexual relationship is by no means free from demonic misdirection; Romans 1 is clear proof of that, as are the stringent sayings of Jesus in Matthew 5.

In studying the matter of contraception in the light of the New Testament, then, one is impressed by three factors: (1) the decisive teaching about one flesh, (2) the absence of any teaching that would bind the sexual relationship within marriage to the bearing of children, (3) Paul’s affirmation of the sanctifying value of marriage. Although these factors appear in a social context generally opposed to birth control, on balance they seem to leave the door open for its responsible use.

When we move from the question of contraception to sterilization and abortion, we find two New Testament texts in which these practices are mentioned. We must determine whether or not these give direction to our present quest.

Eunuchs are mentioned in the Bible; the one in Acts 8 is well known. The statement of Jesus given in Matthew 19:10–12 is not so well known. After he said that “whoever divorces his wife, except for unchastity, and marries another, commits adultery,” the disciples replied, “If such is the case of a man with his wife, it is not expedient to marry.” But Jesus answered, “Not all men can receive this precept, but only those to whom it is given. For there are eunuchs who have been so from birth, and there are eunuchs who have been made eunuchs by men, and there are eunuchs who have made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. He who is able to receive this, let him receive it.”

Four points are important here:

1. It is a historical fact that castration was forbidden in the Old Testament and was fundamentally alien to the Greek mind. However, it did enter into Greek life, particularly in the cults of Asia Minor (Cybele, Attis, Artemis).

2. There is the saying of Jesus in Matthew 5:29, 30, which speaks of plucking out the eye or cutting off the hand for the sake of the kingdom righteousness. On the basis of 5:28 and such sayings as Mark 7:20 ff., literal meaning is rightly denied to Matthew 5:29, 30.

3. There is a complete absence of any data showing that Jesus or any one of his chosen disciples actually subjected himself to castration. The maintenance of this teaching and practice by Jesus and the primitive Church would have brought them into violent conflict with Judaism, not to mention the Hellenistic society; one would certainly expect to encounter traces of this conflict either in Christian or in Jewish literature. He does not.

4. On occasion Jesus could move from a physical to a figurative meaning (Luke 9:60).

Against these considerations one may weigh the fact that the first two classes of men described in Matthew 19:10–12 are physical eunuchs. However, as point 4 above indicates, this is not enough to require such an interpretation of the third class mentioned. The very fact that the Matthean community preserved this saying in the absence of the practice is additional evidence of its figurative meaning; in addition, the nearly unanimous figurative interpretation of the Christian community for two millennia has to be given some preference by the Christian interpreter of Scripture.

What does the text mean? The Roman Catholic exegete Josef Blinzler has pointed to the likeness of its thought with that in other teachings of Jesus regarding the kingdom of heaven, in which the kingdom is portrayed as a magnificent find or gift, for the sake of which a man should be willing to give all he has. There are those who are so grasped by the kingdom of God that they are not fit for marriage. The cause of the sacrifice in the three classes of man is the important thread binding them together; in the last case, the cause is the kingdom itself. The result is that he too is unfit for marriage, like those who are physically unfit. This reminds us of Jesus’ statement that discipleship in the kingdom may lead to the abandonment of even the marital relationship (Mark 10:29, 30). And this again is wholly parallel to the sayings of Paul in the seventh chapter of First Corinthians.

What is important for us is that the New Testament offers no ground at this point for physical sterilization. In this passage, the matter is not birth control but being controlled by the gift of the kingdom. Perhaps Jesus’ use of the word “eunuch” reflects a historical situation. His opponents who called him a glutton and a winebibber may also have named him “eunuch,” for Judaism demanded that a rabbi be a married man, and Jesus, who functioned as a rabbi, did not meet this requirement.

The term ektroma, meaning “abortion, abortive birth, untimely birth,” appears only once in the New Testament; the Apostle Paul used it to describe his own position among the apostles. It has been suggested that Paul’s opponents used this term of him derogatorily, and that Paul takes it up in First Corinthians 15:8 as a positive presentation of his apostolate: “Last of all, as to one untimely born, he appeared also to me. For I am the least of the apostles, unfit to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God.” Perhaps Paul was nicknamed ektroma, because of his small stature. The Latin equivalent of ektroma, abortivus, was used of dwarfs, whose condition was believed to result from premature birth. It could also be used of an immature or childish person. In any case, the use of the term here hardly permits any inferences for current practice.

The New Testament, as we know and have seen, does not specifically direct every relationship of life. Faith is a prime characteristic of the Christian life, and its corollary in practice is that we do not walk by sight. Therefore, a central determination of New Testament ethics is testing. The Christian is not bound by a legal code; he is free to walk in the Spirit through the world and to take the measure of all possible practices from the norm that is in Christ, and then from all other revealed norms. As new medical discoveries occur, they may call for new freedom in practice. The layman—uncertain whether today’s standard method of contraception, the pill, is safe—looks to the medical profession to tell him the truth, based upon its scientific testing. Is not such testing also a part of our Christian vocation?

A corollary of the Christian’s freedom from a legal code is apparent in Paul’s example and teaching. He did not always do what he was free to do; he practiced restraint, because he did not want to weaken the faith (and practice) of his brother. The time when the practice of contraception would offend my brother is generally past; but this is not so with abortion. However, we also must reckon with the fact that there are those within the Christian community who can see no final offense in abortion when entered into responsibly by a woman in consultation with a physician. Jesus did many things that cut right across the norms of Jewish practice, and the Christian doctor may recognize that a woman or a family is truly in distress because of a new pregnancy and feel called to go against even the religious norms of his society.

Sin shatters the God-created wholeness of man, and sin in the sexual sphere affect his whole person. We have no reason to suppose that the human attitude toward practices that control the reproductive process is free from this sinful disposition.

Here, as much as anywhere, man can deceive himself. A doctor whose main practice for fourteen years has been obstetrics said that during those years there have been many women in his office who affirmed that they simply could not “go through” with their pregnancy. But wise counsel and care led all of them through. It is easy to deceive ourselves about our own limits, whether mental or physical. We can equally well deceive ourselves about the rightness or the wrongness of a given practice in a particular situation. The factor too should create a disposition to caution where the issues are more or less unresolved.

Man exists in community; Christian man exists in a special community. The New Testament concept koinonia, which stands behind our term “community,” designates a common participation in a common lot.

Is it not a tragedy, then, that most reflection upon abortion has been a wholly private matter? Because the lay community has not been able to discuss this matter freely, the ethical focus is removed from the community and placed solely with the more or less isolated individual. The doctor is there, or a pastor, or a friend. But the full force of community vitality is not available. Where the full resources of the Christian community are made available before needed, many calls for abortion will be eliminated; and if that community ever comes to take seriously its unity with every member of the body, then no members will be cast out from the community’s love and care just when they need it most.

In the beginning God ordained that men should be fruitful and multiply and have dominion upon earth. But man’s dominion does not extend to man in the same measure as it stands over other created things. One problem of ethics is to try to determine the extent and nature of man’s dominion over himself and mankind. Just as pain is multiplied in childbirth, so anxiety is multiplied in decisions affecting reproduction. Perhaps that is good. Here, as everywhere, we are dependent upon every channel of grace. In the midst of all our endeavor, we are called to test every practice by these instruments of grace, so that we may ourselves become men approved of God.

Removal of a small glob of living tissue from a human body requires a surgeon who knows how, what, when, and where to cut, and the consent of the patient to whom the tissue belongs. As technique, this cutting may be rather sophisticated, and since it is intended to prolong the life of the patient, it is significant as well as sophisticated. When it comes to the removal of a small glob of living tissue called a human fetus, however, the situation changes dramatically. This particular bit of surgery is no longer considered merely skillful cutting by a surgeon for the purpose of inducing health in a patient. Suddenly the circle is enlarged to include many others. Why this difference? Why are the surgeon’s skill and the patient’s consent not enough to settle the issue, in this case? What is it about fetal tissue that has drawn doctors, lawyers, legislators, sociologists, psychiatrists, and even philosophers and theologians into the discussion?

All tissue, including fetal tissue, is made up of living cells composed of the same chemicals. Yet fetal tissue is unique. Of all the tissues in the body, it alone has a fixed genetic makeup different from that of the body in which it is lodged. A woman cannot say of fetal tissue, this is mine, in the sense she can say of her kidney tissue, this is mine. She cannot keep it, any more than she can give it to someone else; she must surrender it in birth—or die.

But we can hardly say the physical fact of the genetic uniqueness of human fetal tissue is the basis of all the anxious inquiry, for the same uniqueness prevails in the animal world. Rather, the issue is that human fetal tissue, left unmolested, will develop into a human being, and there is something about a human being that demands an attitude of reverential respect for his life and concern for his well-being. This is why scruples become stronger and the laws of society more explicit as the fetal tissue develops from fertilized egg, to blastocyst, to embryo, to fetus (in the specialized sense), to premature, to infant.

To take the life of a child deliberately is murder, but to prevent the implantation of a fertilized egg in the lining of the uterus is considered by many as merely contraception. Between these two extremes are many halfway houses of opinion. Early American law, for example, following the tradition of common law, forbade abortion after quickening, that is, about the sixteenth week of pregnancy, when fetal motion is felt. Today, in Norway abortions may not be performed after three months, in Denmark after four months, in Sweden after five months. Even where the laws are most permissive, abortions are not allowed, except to save a mother’s life, after viability, that is, after about six months, when the fetus is able to survive outside the womb. This is the position taken by the American Law Institute and endorsed by the American Medical Association at its June, 1967, meeting.

The same tendency to make the fully developed individual the measure of all things comes into play when factors other than the development of the fetus are considered as grounds for abortion. These factors almost invariably concern the mother, whose humanity cannot be doubted, rather than the fetus, whose humanity cannot be demonstrated. Thus laws allow abortion when there has been forcible or statutory rape, on the grounds that pregnancy would impair the physical or mental health of the mother. Even when the matter is one of preventing the birth of a deformed or mentally retarded baby, it is the effect of such a birth on the mother and other members of the family that weighs largely in the decision.

Although some geneticists insist that in every pregnancy there are always two patients, the mother and the unborn child, many laws do not reflect this fact. For example, a fetus aborted before twenty weeks of pregnancy, does not require legal interment; it is treated as merely a pathological specimen. But is it? Since the potential for future development is as great in the fertilized egg as in the newborn child, why should we permit intervention at one stage of a life and not at another?

To frame an answer to this question, one needs to know whether a fetus is a human being or not; and before one can make this decision, he must answer a deeper question: What is a human being? The answer to this involves philosophy and theology; it demands that one try to become an expert in humanity.

As Christians, we cannot approach our task from any point of view other than that of a Christian view of man. Man is more than a complex chemical machine; he is, or has, a soul; and presumably, if he is or has a soul from the earliest stages of fetal development, then, as a fetus he is a primordial person whose life cannot be taken with impunity.

Having defined the human fetus as living tissue with a unique genetic makeup, destined to become a fully developed human organism, we must now seek to define soul, the term that is really primary in our investigation. Aristotle said long ago that to obtain knowledge about the soul is the most difficult thing in the world, and time has not altered the situation appreciably. Whether or not the soul exists, what it is and how it is related to the body, are questions that have not yet been answered by scientific investigation, or by rigorous philosophical analysis. Neither has scientific investigation discovered that there is no soul, nor philosophical analysis demonstrated that the term is meaningless.

Even when we limit ourselves to theological considerations, the question of the relation of the soul to the fetus must be discussed along several lines: Biblical theology offers the materials with which dogmatic theology must work; historical theology tells us how dogmaticians have done their work in the past; philosophical theology offers us criteria by which to criticize this effort of the dogmaticians; and moral theology suggests what we should do in the light of our dogmatic conclusions.

According to Scripture, men and animals share a common life that they receive from God the Creator. The word the Israelites used to describe God, which we translate “spirit,” is the same as the word for “wind” or “breath.” Therefore every creature that breathes, in which there is the breath of life, was believed by the Old Testament writers to have received this animating principle from the Creator, the source of all life. Such creatures, including man, are “living creatures.” As their life consists in receiving the living spirit (Spirit) from God, so, when he recalls his spirit (Spirit), they die.

But this is not the only work in Scripture. While animals share with man in the mystery of life and therefore are capable of a conscious response to their environment, there is something about man that makes his response to his environment unique. The life that he has from God, though like that of animals, is at the same time qualitatively different. Like the beasts, man is formed out of the dust of the ground and animated with the breath of life; but unlike the beasts he is copied from his Maker, he reflects his Creator’s image and likeness. He is not only living, not only conscious, but among all the living, conscious creatures, uniquely so. And in this unique form of consciousness he is like God. His “spirit” (or his “soul,” or his “heart”) is a spirit of wisdom and understanding (Exod. 28:3; Job 32:8); he has the word lodged in him. Hence God brings the creatures to man, as the Bible says in its quaint and simple way, to see what man will call them (Gen. 2:19, 20). His “soul” is given man that he may keep God’s testimonies always (Ps. 119:129, 167). His “heart” is a heart with which he is to love God supremely (Deut. 13:3; Matt. 22:37), a heart which he should keep with all diligence, for out of it flow the issues of life (Prov. 4:23).

But does this Christian doctrine of man’s superiority over the lower orders help us in our specific problem of the soul and the fetus? This marvelously endowed creature called man, whose intelligence reduces remote galaxies and minute atoms to the laws of reason; who lives in the realm of responsibility, knowing the commendation of a good conscience and the condemnation of an evil one; who, as Luther said, in his highest and noblest part is qualified to lay hold of the incomprehensible, invisible, and eternal, in short, to become the house where faith and God’s word are at home—is he or is he not a man while still in his mother’s womb? If we take away the life of a fetus, is this or is it not an affront to the divine image?

Scripture offers no direct teaching on the question of the participation of the fetus in the divine image. The narrative of man’s creation presents as full grown the one made in the image and likeness of God. Since the creation narrative speaks of God’s “breathing into man’s nostrils the breath of life,” it might seem plausible to argue that the soul informs the fetus when the first breath is drawn, that is, at birth. But the ancient Hebrews associated life not only with breath but also with blood: “The blood is the living being” (Deut. 12:23). Therefore the blood of animals was taboo as drink, and whoever shed man’s blood was guilty of a capital offense (Gen. 9:6). To press this teaching about blood as literal science would be to conclude that the human fetus is informed with the soul not at the moment the first breath is drawn but when the blood system develops.

Thus these two biblical criteria yield different answers to our question of when the fetus becomes a human being. Furthermore, neither one could be convincingly supported, since the “breath of life” and the “blood which is the life” are applicable to animals as well as men. The biblical description of man’s distinctive creation “in the divine image” refers to a quality of life that, though it depends upon breath and blood, is not equated with them. Even if a man’s blood can be replaced with a completely different type, he is still the same person. The biblical data here appear to reflect the rough approximations with which ancient “science” conceived the physiological basis of life. If we were to state the equivalent in contemporary scientific idiom, we should have to argue that the soul is present to the human fetus when the nervous system is developed. The fact that man’s likeness to God, which is the ground of reverence for his life, is qualitatively distinct from the physiological basis of his life, means that all efforts to identify the presence of the human soul in terms of some stage of physiological development must prove frustrating.

Perhaps the nearest thing to a scriptural statement on our problem is found in Psalm 139:13–15: “For thou didst form my inward parts. Thou didst cover me in my mother’s womb.… My frame was not hidden from thee, when I was made in secret and curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth.” (This last phrase, “lowest parts of the earth,” is a Hebrew expression to describe the dark interior of the womb.) Here the psalmist is principally concerned to confess the divine omniscience. Even before he knew God, God knew him; even before his eyes opened on the light of day, while he was still being marvelously formed in the womb, God was there. But though the thrust of the passage is principally to confess a truth about God, it tacitly confesses a truth about the psalmist, namely that he regards himself as having been a self even before he was conscious of himself. I, the person, was covered by thy hand, Oh, Lord, in my mother’s womb; I was made in secret and curiously wrought in the inner recesses of my mother’s body. While this gives us no precise information about the relation of the soul to the fetus, it seems that the psalmist did not think of his humanity as uniquely tied to the moment of birth. The events leading up to birth are a kind of primal history of the self.

A not unexpected result of this paucity of biblical references to pre-natal human life, and of the orientation of Scripture toward mature manhood, has been a spectrum of opinion drawn from inference and speculation.

Tertullian, the first theologian to speak on the subject, says that Christians abominate as murder both infanticide and abortion, the latter being a kind of murder in advance. For the embryonic man is as the fruit to the blossom, he says, destined in a little while to become a perfect man, if nature meets with no disturbance. As a traducianist—that is, one who believes that the soul as well as the body is derived from the parents—Tertullian naturally inferred that where there was the physical beginning of man, there also was his spiritual beginning.

Traditionally, theologians have espoused creationism, that is, the view that God creates each individual soul directly, leaving the body to develop by laws of natural generation. Thinking of a person as a rational essence (it was commonly believed that thought was a pure act of the soul involving no bodily counterpart), they concluded that the fetus was informed by a rational soul shortly before birth. The medieval scholastics, employing Aristotelian distinctions, commonly spoke of a vegetative soul at the moment of conception, an animal soul at a later stage of embryonic development, and a rational soul imparted as the moment of birth drew near. Thus, although Augustine and Thomas condemned deliberate interference with the life of the fetus, they considered it homicide only when the fetus was possessed of a human soul. But they did not venture an opinion as to exactly when this moment was reached, a reticence often repeated through the centuries.

The uncertainty still prevails among many modern Christian thinkers, and perhaps it always will. The phenomena of self-consciousness—the rational, ethical, and religious experience of the human I—are not in evidence prior to birth; but to say they do not exist, even in the earliest stages of fetal development, is to say more than we know. A person who is sleeping or unconscious is a person still, though he gives no express evidence of it. And so it may be with the fetus. At least we can say that a fetus is a potential person, and maybe a primordial person, that is, a person in the most elementary form. We do not judge that a person who is in a coma has ceased to be a person. If we have doubts about terminating the life of one who has lost the ability to live and act as a human subject, because he may still be a human subject, should we not hesitate just as much to terminate the life of one who does not yet have the ability to live and act as a human subject? In fact, it would seem that ability lost, the “human vegetable,” can make less claim to respect and reverence than ability in prospect, the “human fetus.”

On the other hand, the analogy between a person in embryo and a person in a coma breaks down (as analogies are wont to do) in at least one point. The existence of the former is much less an independent existence than that of the latter. The right of the fetus to live, even if it be considered a primordial person, is a right that is held in conjunction with the right of another person to live. The primordial person, if that is what the fetus is, can never become a full-orbed person apart from another person, the mother in whose womb it is conceived and in whose body it is nourished. And while we may question the humanity of the fetus, we cannot question the humanity of the mother who conceives it.

Furthermore, her life is not ordinarily as solitary as that of the life she carries. She is a daughter, a wife, and perhaps a mother. Her life has been woven into the lives of others who also have claims upon her, claims that are more clearly human in their “I-thou” nature than the claims of the fetus. Recognition of these facts has led to near unanimity of opinion that in case of life and death, the mother has the more fundamental claim.

The present tendency to give the psychiatrist and even the sociologist a part in defining “life” and “death” has indeed complicated the picture; yet surely this extension of the terms is valid from a Christian perspective. “Life,” as the Christian understands it, in its distinctively human dimension, is more than biology; therefore the physicians of the soul, like the physicians of the body, should be heard when the question is raised about whether to surrender the life of the fetus to preserve the life of the mother. The problem, of course, is that it is enormously more difficult to measure and evaluate data in the area of psychiatry than in the area of traditional medicine. A physician of the body can give a relatively precise judgment, from the perspective of the laws of physical life, as to the threat that a pregnancy poses for the mother. No such precision is possible from the perspective of the laws of the physical and sociological life. Nor will we attain such precise psychological and sociological knowledge in the future. Man will always be better understood scientifically as body (object) than as soul or spirit (subject), which is the seat of his freedom as an individual. To the extent that he is a free, responsible self, his behavior can never be reduced to the pattern of a strict causality. This means that whenever the decision to sacrifice the life of the fetus to save the life of the mother rests on psychological and sociological considerations, there will always be a factor of uncertainty.

These are the difficulties that moral theology faces in justifying abortion. It seems that the Christian answer to the control of human reproduction must be found principally in the prevention of conception, rather than in the prevention of birth. Abortion will always remain a last recourse, ventured in emergency and burdened with uncertainty.

A Christian normally experiences some tension in trying to apply the Old Testament to his life. There is a theological tension over the question whether instructions in the Old Testament are still applicable to Christians. In what sense is the Old Testament authoritative for the Church today? In The Authority of the Old Testament, John Bright has suggested a valid working hypothesis: Old Testament passages must be referred to the New for its verdict, whether it be to confirm, modify, or deny.

In the matter of birth control, the Christian also faces a sociological tension. The Old Testament world, in contrast to modern society, valued a large family for economic and international security. Survival demanded growth and expansion. In addition, men in the ancient world sought “social immortality,” i.e., preservation of their memory upon earth through their offspring. Christians today, on the other hand, seek “individual immortality,” the hope of life after death. Old Testament saints living in a rural society were much more favorably disposed toward large families than many Christian couples today living in overcrowded cities. For us, children tend to be a financial hindrance rather than help.

The third tension in this area is focused on the question, Did the Old Testament writers know about techniques for birth control and abortion? If not, we may be asking them questions they had never faced and thus be in danger of inferring wrong answers from the Scriptures.

Early Family Planning

A married man and woman in Old Testament times seem to have had five means of limiting family size: abortion, sterilization, infanticide, continence, and contraception by withdrawal (often referred to as coitus interruptus in the older literature).

In the absence of any biblical text forbidding abortion, we must appeal to the literature of the Ancient Near East. An Assyrian law dated between 1450 and 1250 B.C. prescribed death by torture in cases of procured abortion. The fact that God did not set forth a similar law becomes even more significant when one realizes that in sexual matters the Mosaic Code is normally more extensive and more severe than other codes.

A second factor suggesting that abortion was permissible is that God does not regard the fetus as a soul, no matter how far gestation has progressed. The Law plainly exacts: “If a man kills any human life he will be put to death” (Lev. 24:17). But according to Exodus 21:22–24, the destruction of a fetus is not a capital offense. The divine law reads: “When men struggle together and one of them pushes a pregnant woman and she suffers a miscarriage but no other harm happens, he shall be fined according as the woman’s husband may exact from him.… But if harm does ensue, then you shall impose soul for soul.…” Clearly, then, in contrast to the mother, the fetus is not reckoned as a soul. The money compensation seems to have been imposed not to protect the fetus but rather to compensate the father for his loss.

In the matter of accidental miscarriage, the contrast between the Mosaic law and the Assyrian law is once again instructive. In a similar context the Assyrian law reads:

[If a seignior] struck a[nother] seignior’s [wife] and caused her to have [a miscarriage], they shall treat [the wife of the seignior], who caused the [other] seignior’s wife to [have a miscarriage], as he treated her; he shall compensate for her fetus with a life. However, if that woman died, they shall put the seignior to death; he shall compensate for her fetus with a life. But when that woman’s husband has no son, if someone struck her so that she had a miscarriage, they shall put the striker to death; even if her fetus is a girl he shall compensate with a life [quoted in Ancient Near Eastern Texts Relating to the Old Testament, by James B. Pritchard, Princeton, 1950, p. 184].

The Old Testament, in contrast, never reckons the fetus as equivalent to a life.

On the other hand, the Old Testament never exacts “a fetus for a fetus”; it apparently protects the fetus. Furthermore, the Bible repeatedly asserts that conception is a gift of God. Eve at the birth of Cain declared that she had received him from the Lord (Gen. 4:1). Sarah’s belief that the Lord restrained her from bearing (16:2) was confirmed when Abraham later received the divine assurance that she would have a son (17:19). Taking pity on Leah, the Lord “opened her womb” (29:31), as he also did afterwards for Rachel (30:22). Of Ruth it is recorded that “the Lord gave her conception” (Ruth 4:13).

Third, the Christian is aware that God is actively involved in fashioning the fetus. Of himself David said: “You created my kidneys; you skillfully wove me in my mother’s womb.… My skeleton was not hidden from you when I was carefully formed in the darkness, when I was embroidered with variegated colors in the innermost part of the earth” (Ps. 139:13–18, author’s translation).

Thus, while the Old Testament does not equate the fetus with a living person, it places great value upon it. The Talmud appears to reflect the biblical balance by allowing abortion when the life of the mother is in danger (Mishna, Oholot, 7:6).

Apparently the early Hebrews realized that the male as well as the female could be the cause of a childless union (Deut. 7:4). In practice, however, only the male could be made sterile artificially. We may assume that principles derived from texts concerning the sterilization of the man are also applicable to the woman.

God rejected the common Near Eastern practice of sterilizing males. According to Deuteronomy 23:1, a eunuch was excluded from the communal life in Israel. This law is peculiar to the Mosaic Code. Sterilization was made unique among types of physical deformity. Deformities of the body, such as blindness and lameness, restricted Aaron’s descendants from serving as priests, but only sterilization—whether congenital, accidental, or self-willed—excommunicated a male from the covenant community.

The least we can conclude from this text is that God looks with disfavor upon sterilization as a means of limiting human reproduction. However, this conclusion must be evaluated in the light of our Lord’s teaching about eunuchs (Matt. 19:12).

Killing Babies

Although infanticide was normally practiced for religious reasons in the Ancient Near East, it was also practiced to rid the parent of an unwanted child. For example, the mother of Sargon of Agade, by tradition a high priestess expected to live in chastity, disposed of her unwanted child by exposure. That infanticide by exposure was known in Israel can be gathered from a reference in Ezekiel, where Jerusalem is described as though she “were cast out on the open field, for [she] was abhored, on the day she was born” (Exek. 16:5). It is well known that the Arabs practiced female infanticide.

Godly Hebrews never engaged in infanticide. The Old Testament forbade the common practice of child sacrifice, for it “profaned the name of God” (Lev. 18:21). Those who engaged in it were to be stoned to death (Lev. 20:2). In addition, the life of the child no doubt came under the protection of the fifth commandment.

That continence was also practiced as a means of limiting children we may infer from a Sumerian proverb that mentions a proud husband who boasted that his wife had borne him eight sons and was still ready to lie down to accept his nuptial embrace. Evidently, some wives would not. In Israel, however, there is no evidence that periodic continence was used for the spacing or limitation of pregnancies. In fact, the Mosaic law indicates that continence has no place in marriage: “If the owner marries another woman, he must not diminish from [the female slave] her food, her clothing, or her conjugal rights” (Exod. 21:10). In addition, as Charles Ryder Smith points out in Bible Doctrine of Womanhood, “the Old Testament has no sanction for celibacy; its priests married, and even its typical ascetic, the Nazarite, was commanded other abstinences than this” (Num. 6).

Rhythm In Reverse

Sexual intercourse was to be forgone by women only during their ritual uncleanness occasioned by menstruation (Lev. 15:19–28; 18:19; 20:18) and childbirth (Lev. 12:1–8), and by men only for religious reasons (Exod. 19:15; 1 Sam. 21:4, 5). On the basis of these passages, some have contended that continence should be practiced for birth control. But instead of limiting birth, these restrictions tend to increase fertility. Herman Wouk, in This Is My God, says: “The main practical result of this abstinence after the menses is that they rejoin at the time when the wife is most likely to conceive. It is the exact opposite of the rhythm system of birth control.”

The conjugal regulations in the Talmud accurately reflect the teaching of the Old Testament. M. Mielzener says: “The duty of conjugal cohabitation is legally, as well as ritually and ethically, regulated in the Rabbinical Code. A continual refusal, on either side, regarding this duty, if not excused by sickness and circumstances, offers a ground for divorce” (The Jewish Law of Marriage and Divorce in Ancient and Modern Times).

In the New Testament, the Apostle Paul likewise enjoins intercourse as a mutual duty owed by each to the other, to be withheld only during limited periods of special religious observance (1 Cor. 7:5).

Three areas of evidence support the common assumption that withdrawal was the most universal and commonly practiced method of contraception in biblical times: (1) the terms for prostitutes in Assyria and Babylonia; (2) references in the Talmud; (3) the incident of Onan recorded in Genesis 38:8–10.

Terminology applied to the female temple personnel in the Code of Hammurabi and other Babylonian documents indicates that these priestesses were sexually active but in some way prevented conception. No women consecrated to gods were allowed to bear children, even in marriage. Since contraceptives and sterilization of women were unknown and technically unfeasible in antiquity, a priestess, or hierodule, could avoid impregnation only by using abnormal methods of intercourse. One text prescribed an extreme precaution: “The high priestess will permit intercourse per anum in order to avoid pregnancy.” However, this extreme measure apparently was not practiced by other classes of female cult personnel. The titles and expressions used to denote these other priestesses may point to the avoidance of pregnancy by coitus interruptus.

The Talmud also indicates that withdrawal was practiced to avoid pregnancy. According to the Yebamot section of the Talmud (34b), during the twenty-four months in which a child is nursed, “a man must thresh inside and winnow outside”—a euphemism for withdrawal.

The case of Onan (Gen. 38:8–10) provides the one clear Old Testament example of withdrawal with contraceptive intent: “Then Judah said to Onan: ‘Go in to your brother’s wife and perform the duty of a brother-in-law to her, and raise up offspring for your brother.’ But Onan knew that the offspring would not be his; so when he went in to his brother’s wife, he spilled the semen upon the ground, lest he should give offspring to his brother. And what he did was evil in the sight of the LORD, and he slew him also.”

The context clearly indicates that Onan’s sin lay in his selfish unwillingness to honor his levirate duty. Roman Catholic exegetes reject this explanation, however, and insist that God killed Onan for practicing birth control. They argue that Onan paid for his deed with his life, whereas the penalty for refusing the responsibilities of the levirate marriage was far milder in the normally severe Mosaic Code.

A Persuasive Point

This objection is certainly valid, and the difficulty must be faced. The texts can be harmonized through recognition that the Mosaic Law has to do with a man who refuses to marry his brother’s widow, whereas the case of Onan concerns a man who was willing to marry his brother’s widow but then perverted the institution. The Lawgiver had the bereaved one at heart; but Onan used levirate marriage for his personal gratification. In a word, he used his brother’s wife with no respect for her personality and dignity, and without brotherly concern.

We conclude, then, that this passage instructs us concerning the responsible use of sex; it does not forbid contraception per se.

One would expect to find an express prohibition of contraception by withdrawal somewhere in the Bible if God considered it a sinful act in itself. But nowhere does this appear.

There are two passages where one might expect to find such a prohibition. In the first, Leviticus 15:16–18, the emission of semen apart from coitus is not regarded as a sinful act. Since no sacrifice was demanded, the law for cleansing was ceremonial; no moral fault was involved. The second passage is Leviticus 20:10–21. Here the Bible lists sexual crimes punishable by death. All of these involve intercourse apart from the marriage relationship. Once again we find no reference to withdrawal as a sexual abuse. We conclude, therefore, that the Old Testament prohibits infanticide, sterilization, and continence as means of avoiding pregnancy, but it does not prohibit contraception.

We must now consider the purposes of marriage to determine what use may be made of contraception.

God instituted marriage so that man could have company. “Then the LORD God said: ‘It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a helper fit for him’ ” (Gen. 2:18). The psalmist says: “God gives the desolate a home to dwell in” (Ps. 68:6).

Moreover, it is within the framework of marriage that man achieves unity; apart from marriage he is broken, incomplete. “Therefore a man leaves his father and his mother and cleaves to his wife, and they become one flesh” (Gen. 2:24). To joy of the reuniting of man and woman and the sadness of their parting are celebrated in an incomparable way in the Song of Songs.

God also instituted marriage in order to give pleasure—not merely sensual pleasure—to both the man and the woman. To the woman he said, “Your desire shall be for your husband …” (Gen. 3:16). To men the inspired sage advises: “Enjoy life with the wife whom you love …” (Eccl. 9:9).

A fourth reason for marriage is that of procreation. The Old Testament considers children an evidence of God’s blessing: “And God blessed them, and God said to them: ‘Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves upon the earth’ ” (Gen. 1:28), an injunction repeated to Noah after the Flood (Gen. 9:1, 7). When the text declares, “God blessed them,” it means in part that he made them virile. On this basis he gives the command to reproduce. The divine ideal is for all of nature to be fertile. Predicting the golden age to come, Jeremiah says: “Behold, the days are coming, says the LORD, when I will sow the house of Israel and the house of Judah with the seed of man and the seed of beast” (Jer. 31:27; cf. also Gen. 1:22; 8:17; 49:22; Ps. 128:3).

Dealing With Overpopulation

It should be noted that with the blessed promise of offspring there is also the injunction to subdue the earth. This text may apply to cases of overpopulation, where the balance with nature cannot be maintained. Perhaps in such cases God enjoins man to use his technological achievements to maintain a balance for the good life.

God also instituted monogamy, says Malachi, “to seek a godly seed” (Mal. 2:15). Innumerable Old Testament passages instruct his people on raising a godly seed. We may infer from Deuteronomy 6:4 ff. and others that God expected his people to be co-laborers in producing a godly seed to bless the earth.

Finally, God instituted marriage in order to illustrate his love for Israel. The analogy of the love of a husband for his wife is repeatedly used by the prophets to illuminate God’s persistent love for his unfaithful wife, Israel. The analogy, however, can be used only by implication in the problem at hand.

Protestant theologians often justify birth control by separating these purposes of marriage from one another.

But according to the Old Testament, the Creator instituted marriage to serve all these ends together. John Warwick Montgomery’s judgment (CHRISTIANITY TODAY, March 4, 1966) harmonizes with this prudence derived from the Old Testament: “The burden of proof rests, then, on the couple who wish to restrict the size of their family.”