Prevailing Winds "For the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is there is freedom . . ." 2 Cor. 3:17, TNIV

The swirl of media attention focused on Sarah Palin’s pregnant teenage daughter, Bristol, has thus far been reasonably free of vitriol and condemnation — except locally, where familial-dysfunction diagnoses have been pronounced and fault has been duly assigned by someone whose counsel now extends to people he’s never met and people who’ve never sought him out. The content of his condemnation wasn’t a surprise, just the arrogance accompanying it, although I’m less and less able to be surprised these days by bad pastoral behavior.

Generally, though, the evangelical response to the Palin family’s situation has been measured and supportive, and it should be. Shame on those inside the church who line up against these parents, and these young parents-to-be, when prayer and kindness should be their only response. And I condemn any fellow Democrats who take pleasure in the troubles of a teenage girl, using her situation for political gain or personal smugness. Barack Obama was right when he said yesterday that families should be off-limits in politics and children especially so.

That said, how should a pastor respond to a similar situation in his or her own congregation? What should parents of children who stray, who disappoint us, who sin, be able to expect of the person who shepherds them in the name of Christ? All of us who have children know that this is a true, if all the more public, example of “there but for the grace of God go I,” and it’s in these times of upheaval and vulnerability that a wise, compassionate pastor can be either a healing balm from the Spirit, or a blistering toxin from the Pit.

I think three principles apply here. First, it is not necessary to thunder from the pulpit, the blogosphere, or across the pastoral desk the reality that sin was committed by the couple involved. The Palins know that Bristol and her boyfriend missed the mark of God’s sexual ethic, and so does Bristol. Wisdom acknowledges in silent commiseration what arrogance parades in judgment, and a starting point of agreement that sin was involved needn’t be a detour from grace. A young girl found herself in trouble; a young boy found himself in trouble as well. Pastoral wisdom lingers not on the sin, but on the desire for restoration and support of a new family that Christ delights in and has great plans for.

Second, the convicting work of the Holy Spirit and his grace are sufficient for anyone struggling with difficult times. If there is anything the Palins need to repent of, if there’s anything they might do differently next time, and if there’s need for confession and forgiveness within the family, the wise pastor trusts that God himself will spur that, and seeks only to offer the encouragement and hope that can open hearts and close wounds. Under no circumstance, ever, should a pastor presume to diagnose a familial problem and assign blame simply from a perspective of general experience, theology, or rumor. Further, true pastoral involvement in the life of his or her flock guards against hasty judgment; it doesn’t stimulate it. This is not to suggest that there’s no need for a pastor to avoid calling sin when he sees it — but that sin evidences itself in specific, sinful actions, like spousal abuse, and not in peripheral, removed observations about what may or may not have caused it. Bristol and Levi sinned; “why” is not obvious, perhaps not even germane, and certainly isn’t up for diagnosis by the one unfamiliar to her.

Third, the redemptive movement of the Spirit in the New Testament is a movement, in all circumstances, toward repentance, reconciliation, and restoration, and that for the Glory of Christ. The family can decide, with pastoral counsel, how best to proceed; the fact of the pregnancy becomes only the starting point as parents and parents-to-be go before the Lord who loves them to see how best to make this new family whole and healthy. Presuming that Bristol and Levi have genuine relationships with the Lord Jesus — and I will presume so — we know that the grace and power of the Spirit accompanies them as they build their family. And if they are just non-believing kids from believing homes, they and their baby are no less deeply loved, deeply wanted, and deeply protected by the One who describes himself in Scripture in images of the maternal and the paternal. The church family, aware of its own failings — failings that tend not to announce themselves as obviously as pregnancy — comes alongside, following the example of the compassionate, wise pastor, who presumes not the moral superiority of his or her flock, but the Perfect Love of the Shepherd of their souls.

I suspect that if every sin possible to commit announced its presence in the life of a believer with the certainty that unmarried pregnancy does, certain pastors would refrain from unknowing diagnoses and unmerited judgment. The virgin teenager sitting next to Bristol Palin on a Sunday morning ought never take comfort in the relative hiddenness, say, of excessive materialism, a gossiping tongue, prejudice, and hard-heartedness toward others, and the young man faithful to his wearing of a purity ring is no less able to displease the Lord with his wallet, his words, or his ways around women. Let’s assume that what the Bible says is true: We all are sinners, we all can be cleansed by the blood of Jesus, and we all need each other’s love and support, never more than when we fall.