First Heaven.
Now Hell.
That is how the chapter on hell begins. Tough conversations lie ahead.
I have been fascinated with the vast amount of type space and venom that has been given on the subject of hell in this increasing online discussion (and I use the term “discussion” guardedly.) Why are we as Christians so quick to jump on this issue while matters of justice and mercy stand by and miss our eyes, ears and especially out mouths and fingers? Why do we seem so preoccupied with judgment both present and eternal?
When the Love Wins controversy broke, I put on my Twitter and Facebook accounts a statement from Scot McKnight that I really really really think we should take to heart. It was, “No one should begin to talk about hell without spending fifteen minutes in pausing prayer to consider the horror of it all.” I do not care how you define hell. I do not care how you determine people are sent there. I do not care how you determine it to be played out, for how long, and for what purpose, that statement still should give you reason to pause. But alas . . . for many, it has not slowed down their fingers on the keyboard.
“Hell” is an often used word in our culture. Stop and think about how often you hear the word in the course of a week. It is used as a swear word, a word you use to express your disgust with someone, as a descriptor of someone’s dire life circumstances (i.e. living hell”), a place where wicked go when they die, a metaphor for things just not going very well for you, and probably many other ways. Donald Trump even used it in the last week in an interview on NBC’s Today show saying, “This country is going to hell,” and he was not talking about a destination of eternal punishment. He was talking about the financial situation of our country and the United States overall direction.
However, in the context of Christianity (and many other religions) as we know, “hell” is a theological word, with centuries of theological meaning tied to it. I am not saying I agree with that meaning, nor am I saying it is a unified meaning (it surely is not) but it has some traction in the Christian culture and in our broader culture as well. I think Rob has taken a calculated risk in this chapter and it has back fired. He knew it was a possibility, but he thought it worth the risk to move the discussion to the forefront. I think he attempted to redefine the theological word “hell.” I think he is trying to move between the “living hell” scenarios (which are just that I might add!) and the “eternal punishment” discussion seamlessly. I do not think it worked. The baggage associated to both topics is too real, too painful, and too entrenched.
So what exactly is Rob trying to do in this chapter? It seems he may be doing what he is doing in this entire book: push issues into the realm of dialogue. This is healthy. It is how weaknesses in our own arguments are exposed. When we actually listen to the other side of the story, we may begin to look at our viewpoint with a bit more of a critical eye. I do not mind the manner in which Rob puts forth questions. It is how he operates and I actually like it. This chapter is some of that on steroids.
I am not going to get into the theology of hell on this entry. I refer you to the two sites I linked on my previous post for some good discussion on that topic.
I am bypassing the theology to say, if trying to redefine hell, is his first mistake, I think this is his second. He tries to deny being a theologian. He is indeed a theologian, try as he might to deny it. Rob often says, “I am not a theologian.” I could not disagree more. You are a pastor, it comes with the territory. We (he) may not be the ivory tower, reading and writing, avoid the masses, uncaring variety, but we are theologians. We are leading, talking and discussing God and all things related to God. It is part of the calling. In discussing the topic of hell, one author said, “Your view of hell reveals your view of God.” Pause and consider that statement for a moment why don’t you? That, my friends, is the essence of theology.
As a pastor, I likewise have to wear the “theolog” garment. I may not wear it well, but for me, as with, Rob, it comes with the territory. As I think about the awful subject of hell, I have to ask myself some serious questions, even if just for the sake of discussion with myself. What if fire is a metaphor for separation from God . . . or for something else? What if folks can escape hell after a period of time? Is the gulf pictured in the parable also a metaphor, after all it IS a parable? What if . . .? What if . . .?
I am not saying I do or do not believe any of the above, I am simply asking questions. That leads to the big question: “Does it change my view of God?”
I surely hope not.
This leads to what I think is the third error. While Rob does a good job in the book “demystifying” the concept of “gehenna” in the words of Jesus, he broad brushes some topics that would take a much larger volume to fully explore. I also think he misses it or does not address some other passages on this topic. He is simply trying to cover too much territory. I understand his thinking. He knows he will stir up a stink, and he is trying to defend Biblically what he is saying.
I intend to only have one or two more post on this topic and then leave it to others. At least that is my intention now. Let me close this time by repeating Scot McKnight’s statement, “No one should begin to talk about hell without spending fifteen minutes in pausing prayer to consider the horror of it all.”
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