I love the idea of being a “person of principle,” so I want others to recognize the fact that I have principles — in fact, I want to be admired for having them. I find it very gratifying to firmly state my principles, such as the following:
• God is real and holy.
• Truth is absolute.
• The Bible is God’s infallible, inerrant Word.
• Sin is a basic component of our fallen human nature.

I think it would be so wonderful if all I had to do was state the appropriate principle for a given circumstance, watch my words sink into my listener’s psyche, and smile benevolently as truth dawned and gratitude spilled from his or her lips. (The world is so perfect in my daydreams ... and pride is not a problem either!)

However, living out my principles in the “real” world is a completely different ball game. Take my fourth principle (the one about sin) and apply it to a specific, very current battle over right and wrong: the abortion debate. I am a fervent pro-lifer, and for quite a while I have sported a bumper sticker on my car, made donations to the local crisis pregnancy center, and nodded sagely while listening to fellow pro-lifers on the radio.

Then, during a discussion with a pro-choice friend, I lived my daydream by stating my reasons for a principled stand against abortion. Instead of listening gratefully to my bold and confident views, my friend surprised me with a “how-dare-you!” attitude and a confession that she had had an abortion. In her view it is not a simple black-and-white issue at all.

I had been expecting a philosophical debate, and now, suddenly, I was faced with a very personal account that included loneliness, shame and desperation for a way out of a bad situation. It had been 10 years since the abortion, yet my friend’s response revealed the still-fresh anguish of her circumstances. All my sage arguments were broken down. I had no doubt that my principle was still true, but it was now planted firmly in the soil of human suffering and fallibility. I had some thinking to do.

I spent the next few weeks learning that either I could follow my own pride over having principles, or I could follow Jesus — and live out my principles. I went many times to John 8:3-11, the story of the woman caught in adultery. She, like my friend, had stumbled into one of the more visible pits of human failure. And, like my friend, she was confronted with sin’s consequences.

The woman in Scripture was openly confronted with rigid religious principles in the form of impersonal law. The law was right — it was based on the holy righteousness of God’s commandments — but it was as cold, hard and unyielding as the stones that could, by law, be aimed at her soft flesh. Enter Jesus (God’s Holy Word), to save the woman from certain death and scatter her proud, pitiless accusers. Jesus met the woman caught in adultery with the love and compassion she needed to begin the healing of her spirit. Then He gave her the principle of truth that would keep her healthy: “Go and sin no more” (John 8:11, NKJV).

So often today, even in our churches, we fail to follow Jesus’ example when it comes to living out principles — rather than just proudly proclaiming them. We tend to fall into two equally lacking camps: Either we are so rigidly pharisaical that we put the law first and ignore any real, hands-on response to human fallibility and (however self-imposed) suffering, or we respond only to physical and emotional suffering while completely disregarding spiritual principles and/or personal responsibility.

Jesus lived out the much harder — and only effective — way when He stepped into the suffering field of humanity, showing us how to use our hands (real physical help), hearts (love and compassion) and heads (holding to the true principles God gives us). Sometimes this works as beautifully as it did with Jesus and the woman caught in adultery. Other times, we end up — as Jesus warned — with bruised hands and hearts when we are slapped away because we stand on His truth.

In those weeks after our conversation, my friend and I settled into a polite routine that studiously avoided any discussion of principles. But, with my Lord’s help, I gradually summoned the courage to lovingly approach her with an opportunity for healing. I gathered literature on local post-abortion counseling groups and humbly gave it to her with a heartfelt letter offering my friendship and support, knowing full well that I was taking a very real chance of losing her friendship altogether. But in this instance it worked as beautifully as Jesus intended. My friend joined a post-abortion support group, mourned her decision to have an abortion — and her loss — and finally found peace and healing.

This experience has shown me that I have to keep my focus on the Lord if I am going to be the “person of principle” I long to be. Otherwise, my pride will inevitably get in the way and can (and probably will) wound me — and others. I try to use the “hands, heart and head” approach in every situation and have received both joy and scars from the process. But no matter what, I have the blessing and peace of knowing my Lord more intimately as I take up my cross and follow Him. After all, it is not just the principles that matter. It is also the loving way in which we live them out and speak them into others’ lives as God leads.