A Week in Addis Ababa

So my wife and I just returned from about a week in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. We went there to pick up our son, whom we adopted. After about 18 months of filling out paperwork, getting documents notarized, having my fingerprints recorded, and writing large checks, the process culminated in the smiling and drooling face of a sweet four-month old baby boy.

Our adoption agency, All God's Children International, was nothing but great through the entire process: responsive to all of our questions and anxieties, helpful with the required paperwork, and encouraging when things seemed to move slowly. And the orphanage in Addis Ababa, Hannah's Hope, was truly heart-changing. The workers there amazed me with their capacity to love those children like their own flesh and blood, knowing they would be going away to new families. And the children themselves astounded me with their joy.

In the summer of 2008, my wife and I discovered that we each, independently, had been thinking about adopting. When we then began to explore the possibilities, we reached an easy conclusion that Ethiopia was where our next child should come from. As she told someone earlier today, there really was never any question about that. However...

We originally began talking with a different adoption agency. We were told, though, that Ethiopia does not accept parents who take antidepressant medications. Thus, because of my prescription, we were ineligible. Disappointed, we spoke with several other adoption agencies, only to be told the same thing. We had pretty well given up on adopting from Ethiopia when we contacted AGCI. We never expressed interest in any specific country, but only filled out an online pre-application. When one of the workers there responded to our inquiry, she said, "Well, it looks like Ethiopia, or (I can't remember now what the other option was) would be the best bets for your family." Incredulous, we asked, "Are you sure? You know I take an antidepressant, right?" In any case, to make a long story less long, all those other agencies have it wrong, as proven by the little boy asleep upstairs.

So finally, last week, we boarded a plane in Washington, DC and 17 hours later, emerged in the fragrant sunshine of Addis Ababa. The following day, along with five other couples, we went to Hannah's Hope orphanage to meet our new child. He has been very content, happy to play or sleep, and only really fusses when he's hungry--a problem that is easily solved with a bottle of formula.

There was one aspect of the journey we didn't expect, though: being stuck in a foreign hotel room for hours on end with nothing to do but contemplate the tectonic shift in our family that we'd just incurred was a perfect recipe for panic attacks and homesickness. Our agency's online community of adoptive parents were very good at providing practical advice on what to pack and details regarding the administrative process. They shared our anticipatory joy of being on our way to Ethiopia. But no one ever said, "There will come a moment when you wonder if you've spent countless hours and thousands of dollars on a huge mistake. You will question why you you wanted to be kept up at night feeding a baby and changing diapers. You will worry about the effect of a new sibling on your other children." So to anyone who reads this who is in the process of adopting, I will tell you these things. But I will also tell you that you are normal to feel this way. I know this to be true, because all of the other families in our little group with whom we discussed these feelings had similar experiences.

Please don't misunderstand. I have absolutely no regrets about our decision to adopt our son. I only wish someone had prepared us for the overwhelming fear that fell on us as we contemplated the enormity of what was happening. While our hearts were filled with anxiety at times, our minds never lost hold of the knowledge that God had led us to this place, and he had faithfully provided everything we needed to see our adoption come to fruition.

Of course, I think much of our anxiety could have been diminished had we spent more time with the other families, rather than cooped up in the hotel room. The problem is that the hotel where we stayed had no common area where we could gather and talk. But I think we all felt like we would have benefited from that. So, again, to anyone preparing to travel to get your adopted child, a word of advice: take the lead in finding somewhere to gather regularly with other adopting families. Even if it is just your own hotel room, make the effort to spend time together.

In any case, we're glad to be home again. Our newest family member is sleeping soundly, although after a nine hour time change for him, I don't know for how long...

Be Prepared to Give a Defense, OK?

So an acquaintance of mine recently posted this on his Facebook page"

"Jesus told us there would be earthquakes like birth pangs. They will get stronger and more frequent before the end of the age. Are you aware of the signs of the times? Read Matt 24."

As both a Christian and a scientist, I decided to offer a

response that went like this:

"Maybe, but this is the first major quake in that region in 200 years, and it's on a major tectonic boundary. Just saying..."

The initial response to my comment (by someone other than the original poster) was that the statement didn't reference a particular area of the world but simply made a statement that wars and disasters are signs of the end of times. The notion that the comment was made independently of any recent events in Haiti strains credulity a bit, but it's possible--I don't really know, so I'll let that go. I tried to explain that unless one has statistically defensible evidence that earthquakes are actually increasing in frequency and intensity, as is asserted, it's merely a statement that has no specific relevance, other than information. "On rainy Saturday mornings, I like pancakes for breakfast." That's good to know, I guess, but does it call for any response from you? If it is a rainy Saturday morning and I am staying at your house, then it might be polite to cook me up some flapjacks. Otherwise, the statement has no application--that is, it is practically meaningless (I am using the term "practically" to mean that which is related to practice or action rather than the theoretical or ideal).

Well, this brought on several other commentators to remind me that God said these things (about the earthquakes, not the pancakes--although I am pretty sure God does like pancakes as well. That's another blog post, though), thus they are true, and not practically meaningless. With this background, now allow me to make two points--one about the statement at hand in particular and another about conversations like this in general.

Notice that I never questioned the truth of the statement per se. I never claimed that Jesus did not say the things about earthquakes, wars, and famines. Nor did I claim that Jesus's statement was false. I can read Matthew 24 (and have done so) as well as anyone else. So I recognize that he said these things. And if the Son of God says such things will happen I have no reason not to believe that he a) knows it to be true and b) is telling us the truth. What I am questioning (and continue to question) is the relevance of the statement. Does the claim that earthquakes will increase in frequency and severity prior to the end of days have any bearing on today's world? Are we seeing this increase in seismicity and thus is it reasonable to assume that nature is now pointing to God's imminent (whatever that means) return? Well, lets see...

I found some data from the United States Geological Survey (accessed 14 January 2010) that shows the number of earthquakes of magnitude 7 and above that occurred each year between 1900 and 2005. I created a time-series chart from the data; it is shown below:

(I realize the image quality is not great; the data begin at 1900, and the numbers increase by 20 up to 2020. The Y-axis is number of M7 or greater earthquakes, ranging from 0 to 45 by 5. If anyone is interested I can e-mail you my spreadsheet and chart.)

I haven't done any rigorous statistical analysis, but looking at the data I don't see any marked upward trends. If anything, it appears that large earthquakes have been on the decline since about 1945. There is a well-known relationship between earthquake size and frequency of that size earthquake as well, which says that magnitude 6 earthquakes occur about ten times as frequently as magnitude 7s, and for each M6, there will be 10 M5s, and so forth. It goes the other way as well, obviously, so that for every ten M7s, you would expect only 1 M8. So the fact that this chart only shows M7 and above is adequate evidence to suggest that seismicity in general has in fact not been increasing. I suspect that if you had this type of data for a longer period of time, it would all flatten out and, on average, be fairly constant.

So maybe my acquaintance was not intending to imply that seismicity is actually increasing, but rather reminding us that if, in the future, we do see large earthquakes become more frequent, then we'll know something unusual is coming. If that is the case, then fine--the statement is accurate, as far as it goes. I misunderstood, and carry on.

Now to my second point--the manner in which Christians, especially evangelicals for some reason--approach these sorts of questions: Why is the first impulse to respond to another's doubts (or perceived doubts, in this case) with something like, "It's true because God said so. It's in the Bible." If the intent is to close down the discussion immediately, then it works very well. However, it isn't a satisfying answer. It's not really an answer at all. To me translates like this: "I can't be bothered to consider your question or point of view closely enough to offer a thoughtful response. If I did I am afraid you might be correct, and I'd have to admit a failure of understanding." What I don't get is if we're convinced that God's word is truth, why should we be reluctant to put it up against contrary or different viewpoints? Truth is truth, right? No matter what claims someone might make that contradicts truth, it's still truth. If, however, I believe something to be true, but is actually false, once I recognize my error, I have a moral obligation to correct my belief, don't I? I certainly don't wish to cling to false beliefs merely to escape the pain and embarrassment of admitting I was wrong.

What's more, is if a Christian, or anyone for that matter, makes a public assertion of truth, it is intellectually irresponsible to then refuse to defend the statement when questioned. It's also unbiblical, as 1 Peter 3:15 instructs us to always be prepared to give a defense of the hope that you have. Feckless attempts to kill the discussion by appealing to divine revelation are certainly not a ready defense, especially to someone who doesn't view the Bible as revealed truth. The point is to make an argument that your reliance on scripture as a source of knowledge and wisdom is reasonable. Being a Christian doesn't relieve you of the burden of rational discourse. If you wish to argue that God's Word doesn't need anyone to defend it, then let it speak for itself, and don't make the statements to begin with!

My purpose here is not to pick fights with other believers. But I think the church needs to recognize that trying demonstrate spiritually maturity and deep faith in God at the expense of intellectual responsibility has had a tremendous alienating effect, not just on nonbelievers, but on believers like myself who find themselves ostracized from the rest of the body of Christ because they want to believe for the right reasons. There are a lot of people who are willing to be convinced that God loves them and wants the best for them. But if you aren't willing to do the convincing, then sit down, be quiet, and let the Holy Spirit do it for you.

But then again, what do I know...