a slight chance of showers.

"Jennifer is pregnant."

My reaction to this statement was something along the lines of "How can Jennifer be pregnant? Isn't she like 8?" But no, my mother told me, Jennifer is like 17 now, and all discussion aside as to whether 17 is emotionally mature enough to be having a baby, 17 is definitely physically mature enough to have a baby. I remember Jennifer as being the ash-blond little girl who used to show up at the neighborhood swimming pool or who used to always want to help take care of the little babies during Sunday service. And now she was well on her way to taking care of a little baby full-time, all without a high school diploma, a wedding ring, or (likely) any indication of what exactly her life is going to be like.

The announcement wasn't widely made in the church until she was about four months along. And then what? She's going to keep the baby. The father is known, around, and involved, but not proposing, because he's probably just a kid, too. Her parents are not going to kick her out. It's going to be a girl, and it's going to be named Madison. Most surprising of all, the ladies of the church are throwing her a shower. Okay, so the shower isn't going to be held in the fellowship hall after service like most church showers, but the women of the church are all invited.

For those of you who are not familiar with rural Southern United Methodist church-goers, they by and large are not really down with premarital sex. I'm sure they realize that it happens, and they are willing to overlook that fact as long as it's not thrown in their faces with things like cohabitation and unwed mothers. When I found out that Jennifer was pregnant, I wondered how the church family would react. Usually the birth of a baby is a wonderful, joyous occasion, met with much hugging and tears and requests to hold the tiny new person. But if that baby was not wrapped within the safe and traditional two-parent family, if that baby stood for something considered sinful just by being alive, what would the reaction be then?

I am so proud of my old church. I was afraid that Jennifer would be shunned, mocked, turned away when she most needed the help of a long roster of experienced mothers. Not having the shower at the church is a compromise, but having it at all is a big step in the right direction. Condemnation would not be the answer when the deed is already done. Sex is not the issue anymore, the baby is the issue. And no matter the situation, a birth should still be something to celebrate.

My mother says that everyone sins, but that some people's sins show up more than others. It's easy to condemn those who suffer from vices we do not share or who wear great big scarlet letters of their trangressions. Far too often that is what Christians do, though it is decidedly not the Christian thing to do - casting the first stone and whatnot. But it is easier to distance yourself from obvious sin so as to not have to face the fact you are no better, just more concealed. And even that concealment is only from other humans, other imperfect beings. There may be visible sin, but there is no invisible sin when it comes to God. He's got magic sin glasses or something.

Of course there will be talk, and there may even be talk at at the shower, but I feel certain that the gossipers will fall silent as time goes on, particularly once the baby starts attending church. Rural Southern United Methodists love little babies, no matter how the parents chose to make them.