When Does Life Begin?

The Issue That Defines a Generation

There have been many topics that mattered deeply to me. But there is only one issue I believe we will be judged on for generations to come.

Abortion is the most important cultural issue of our lifetime.

It is also the most painful.

The cultural trauma it has caused—emotionally, morally, spiritually—is second to none. I have spoken about abortion often, returning to it again and again, because it matters that much. It distills everything I believe—both as a Christian and as a citizen—into one unavoidable question.

Cutting Through the Noise

So much of the conversation around abortion is filled with distractions:
Arguments about rights.
Arguments about politics.
Arguments about convenience, poverty, fear, or power.

But none of those are the core issue.

The real question—the only question that truly matters—is this:

When does life begin?

If we get that wrong, nothing else matters.
If we get that right, we will never be wrong.

A Cultural Argument, Not Just a Religious One

As Christians, our position is clear. Scripture affirms identity, purpose, and value from the very beginning of life. But not everyone shares our faith—and the abortion debate cannot rest solely on religious language.

This is not about women’s rights versus faith.
This is not about politics or denomination.
This is about human life.

History shows us what happens when powerful groups decide that another group is “less than human.” Time and time again, those decisions were rationalized, justified, and accepted—until history exposed them as moral failures.

Slavery.
Eugenics.
The Holocaust.

Each generation believed it had its reasons.
Each generation was wrong.

The goal for our generation should be simple: do not be wrong.

The Only Answer That Isn’t Wrong

When we ask, “When does life begin?” there is only one answer that ensures we are not repeating history.

Life begins at conception.

Any other answer is shaped by convenience, fear, or rationalization. Once we recognize that a human life exists at conception, everything else must follow. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness must remain in that order. My happiness cannot override your liberty. Your liberty cannot override my life.

Once life is acknowledged, it must be protected.

Learning From Those Who’ve Been Dehumanized

I believe Jewish and African American communities should be among the strongest voices for the unborn—because their histories include the devastating consequences of being labeled “less than human.”

Consider this: over 22.5 million Black babies have been aborted in the last 50 years. That is not justice. That is tragedy. And it should trouble us deeply.

Margaret Sanger, the founder of Planned Parenthood, openly embraced eugenics. Clinics are disproportionately placed in minority neighborhoods. These facts are not political—they are historical.

We are not on the right side of history.

The Cost of Silence

History does not judge societies kindly when they remain silent.

I remember watching documentaries on post–World War II Germany and feeling anger toward ordinary citizens who “let it happen.” But fear kept them quiet. Isolation kept them passive. They rationalized what they were seeing because speaking up felt dangerous.

That same fear exists today.

When voices speak out—whether from the pulpit, the public square, or pop culture—they are attacked, discredited, labeled unstable or dangerous. We’ve seen it happen repeatedly.

But change only happens when someone is willing to be heard.

A Call to Engage—Not Retreat

This is not to shout into an echo chamber, but to engage culture because we love it.

We cannot afford to be distracted.
We cannot afford to be silent.
We cannot afford to be wrong.

If you don’t know how to talk about abortion, start with one question. Ask it gently. Ask it honestly. Ask it persistently.

When does life begin?

Let people wrestle with it. Let the discomfort do its work. Because when a society can’t answer that question, it has already revealed the problem.

The Work Isn’t Over

My hope is that this conversation becomes easier—not because it matters less, but because we’ve learned to speak with clarity, courage, and conviction.

Thank you for listening.
Thank you for engaging.
Thank you for caring enough to wrestle with the hardest questions.