My friend, Lucy, has recently lost her mum. Her father had died when Lucy was two, and her sister a baby, and her mother had brought them up on an army pension. “She was a shining example of selflessness, and strength in adversity,” Lucy says.
Now, Lucy tells me she is having very awkward conversations with her teenage daughters who adored their lovely grandmother.
You see, Lucy is an evangelical, and her mother was an atheist.
* * *
“What?” I say, appalled. “You can’t believe the Jesus we both know would consign your lovely, kindly strong mum to Hades, to torment, desperate for a drop of water to cool her tongue because she was in agony in the fire?” (Luke 16:23).
“Well,” Lucy says, a trifle doubtfully. “It does say, “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. Whoever does not believe stands condemned already because they have not believed in the name of God’s one and only Son.”
I sigh. I am silent. Who am I to argue against John 3:16, Tim Tebow and the massive evangelical tradition?
But I am dubious about pastiche theologies built on selected verses. Especially on a verse which says, “God so loved the world that he sent his son to redeem” not “God so hated the world that he sent his son to condemn it.”
We need to look at the entire revelation of God in Scripture, at the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness (Exodus 34:6). We need to look at Jesus, who modelled mercy and compassion in his life, and in every parable he told, who showed us God as the shepherd looking for the one strayed sheep, the Father on the battlements, looking out in hope for the return of the son who had rejected him.
* * *
A man, MY man, writhes on a cross, dehydrated, asphyxiated, his head pierced with thorns. The pain from his nail-pierced hands and feet is excruciating.
In a haze of exhaustion, he lifts himself on that nail, and says, “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.”
Sorry, wait a minute, forgive whom? The believers?
No. Everyone.
Pontius Pilate and the Romans who flogged and crucified him callously, carelessly, because he was too much trouble.
The Pharisees, who delivered him up because of envy because all the people flocked to him. (Matt 27:18).
The crowd who shouted “Crucify him,” the very crowd he had miraculously fed, and who had feted him.
His own disciples who abandoned him
The thief who mocked him
The mockers who said, “He trusteth in God, let God deliver him; let him deliver him if he delights in him.”
* * *
Were all these people for whom Jesus requested forgiveness believers?
Nope.
The night before he had said, “This is my body, broken for you. This is my blood, shed for the forgiveness of sins.”
Whose sins?
The sins of the world.
“Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” John cried. (John 1:29)
My sins, your sins, Lucy’s mother’s sins, my departed father’s sins, the sins of the world.
Jesus taught us to forgive aught against any when we stood praying. Would he do less? Jesus taught us to love our enemies, bless those who curse us, pray for those who persecute us, and do good to those who hate us. Would he do less?
Oh, when will we get the shattering, cosmic significance of the Cross of Christ?
The Father agreeing to send his oldest son as a scapegoat, paying in full for the sins of mankind, everyone, because fathers can be lovely like that.
* * *
So do I believe in hell? Yes, of course, I do. Hell and money were Jesus’ most frequent subjects.
Am I certain of its demography? No. Of course not. But I believe it will be far more sparsely populated than some evangelicals think.
For I do know that Jesus said, “All sins and offences shall be forgiven men,” (Mark 3:28) , except the sin against the Holy Spirit.
* * *
The Jesus I know from the Gospels is a God of mercy, of compassion, a bleeding-heart (liberal, perhaps), with a sharp eye and a sardonic tongue for religiosity and religious hypocrisy which really got him.
When I talked about the Jesus I know, an evangelical friend told me, “You can’t say “the Jesus I know”. You can’t pick and choose.”
But, of course, I have to go with the Jesus I know from my careful reading, study and near-memorisation of the Gospels over the last decades.
How stupid it would be to go with the Jesus someone else knows! With the Jesus of the evangelicals, or the Jesus of the Calvinists, or the Jesus of the liberals, or the Jesus of the liberation theologians, when the real Jesus both lives within the pages of the Gospels and within my heart, ready to step out of the pages and wreak havoc in my life, should I let him?
* * *
All these people had seen and heard Jesus—Pontius Pilate, Herod, the Pharisees, the Saducees, the Jews, the adoring crowd, which later bayed for his blood, the disciples who loved him, and then abandoned him, the women who stuck by him. They made vastly different things of him.
I mean, Jesus is GOD, for heaven’s sake. None of us can comprehend him wholly and entirely. We all have blind spots, blue-spot cataracts, in our comprehension of him.
Why, why, why, are we privileging Calvin’s merciless reading of who goes to heaven, and who doesn’t over our instinctive moral sense and our instinctive knowledge of the Jesus revealed in scripture? We cannot use theology as a stronghold to ensure we are in, and safe, and excused from the rigours of thinking.
WHY should we accept someone else’s pre-digested Jesus, the Jesus of the Catholics, or the Evangelicals or the Jesus of the Calvinists who sends the vast majority of people to hell, the Jesus of those who believe that most of Africa, and Asia and Latin America and Europe will burn in hell, while, they, you see, they accepted Christ in Sunday School aged six and prayed the sinner’s prayer, and so despite a lifetime of greed, cupidity and self-indulgence, they will be in a nice, quiet white heaven.
The Jesus I know is a God of inclusivity, not exclusivity.
Well, all sins and offences shall be forgiven men, Jesus says, so let me not get worked up by stupidity.
* * *
We are made in God’s image. Christ dwells in our heart. When other people’s theology conflicts with our instinctive moral sense, we have to quietly agree to differ, and not sacrifice our common sense, and our instinctive knowledge of God and Christ, to fit in with the dominant theology of our day. Which well may shift within our century.
Salvation is not a theological examination. The sinners prayer is not a shibboleth.
I have family members who are good Catholics, but may not have made a profession of faith Calvin might recognize. Am I afraid that they are in hell? No! I have faith in the goodness of God.
It’s not our works that save us, and it’s not our confessions of faith that save us. And it’s not Scripture that saves us either. It is Christ who saves us because he can, because he is good, and perhaps all our faith contributes but a mustard seed to our salvation, and perhaps all our works contribute but another mustard seed, but ultimately, our eternal destiny, like our earthly destiny, depends on the goodness and mercy of God. Because he is a Father. Because he loves people who are made in his image. Because Jesus shed his blood to atone for the sins of the world.
Read my new memoir: Rosaries, Reading, Secrets: A Catholic Childhood in India (US) or UK.
Connect on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/anitamathiaswriter/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/anita.mathias/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/AnitaMathias1
My book of essays: Wandering Between Two Worlds (US) or UK
Well, it seems if you believe that there is a judgment somehow we are in God's place. I do believe in deathbed conversions. I also think people hardened their hearts for so long, they do not respond to the pricking of their hearts. Look at Pharaoh. The door is narrow.
Our concern is in getting the Gospel out there and making disciples. God does not want any to perish. He wants the wicked to repent. He did make a way on the cross, but He still left it to free will.
We can't be complacent with who is going to heaven and who isn't. I know God doesn't give up and neither should we. But the ball is back in humankind's court. He asks us to return the ball.
Be ever ready with an answer to why we have the hope of salvation. And pray for the Holy Spirit to work in the situation. He woos, it's up to us to answer.
Steve, I should have said “excellent comments” because they were well thought out and well stated. I just happen to look at the glass from the half full rather than the half empty stance. I don't believe that anyone who remains an atheist right up to the instant of death goes to heaven…I'm just more trusting that God finally gets 'em in the end :).
Steve P, nice comments, but in no place do you ascribe to God His most important feature and that is, above all mercy and love…do you think that God wouldn't give us every last chance? Do you think that God gives up on us in our twenties? Our thirties? I believe that he fights for us every last second. And who are we to know another's heart in those moments as we leave our bodies behind in death? Wouldn't it be nice to have hope for those people that in their last seconds on earth they accepted Jesus and the Father rather than placating ourselves with some sense of false fairness that “they got their due”?
By saving the man crucified next to Him at the last second of a crime-filled life, it gives me hope that even the most evil on earth can be saved in those last moments. I put all my trust in God that He will not ever give up on me or anyone else because Scripture tells me to trust Him completely.
It's not wishful thinking…God saved that criminal in the final moments. That wasn't in the story for dramatic effect or to sell the story. It was there to remind us that we can accept Jesus even unto the last moment and His mercy knows no bounds. Now, personally, I don't think we ought to wait till the last second…but I know that while that seems unfair that the criminal next to Jesus gets the same spot in heaven that I or others who have believed in Him our whole lives will get -that is nevertheless how it works according to Scripture. And Jesus tells us constantly that our idea of “fair” does not always match God's and we just need to deal with it :).
I'd rather focus on the hope rather than the damnation…on God's judgement not mine…on God's wide mercy than my narrow view. Yes damnation does await those who completely turn from God…but you and I do not ever get to know another's heart at any time least of which in those moments of death…that is God's realm.
Oh Boy Anita.
Firstly let me say that I think blog comments sections are not always the best place to have real theological discussions, where face to face dialogue would perhaps be more constructive. However, with very real respect, I have to disagree with your post. I share these thoughts in a spirit of respect and care.
I don't for a minute disagree with your sentiment. I would like nothing more than for everybody (or most people) to be saved. Really, I would. I take no delight in thinking that anybody could be sent to everlasting punishment. Yet it seems to me that your sentiment and love for people have caused you to discard whole passages of scripture. I'm not talking about a 'theological niche' as you put it, but whole swathes of the teachings of Jesus; not to mention the Apostle Paul.
To say that Jesus is full of love and mercy is true. But he is not *only* full of love and mercy. He is also revealed in scripture as a righteous judge.
As you say, there are numerous teachings on hell in scripture. And we need to really consider who might be in danger of ending up there. And I have to start with myself and examine myself first.
And then :
How about the goats who get *sent* to hell in Matt 25 – who are they?
And what about about the unprofitable servant who is *cast* into outer darkness where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth? Who's he?
What about the words of Jesus when he said “Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell” (Matt 10:28) What's this? Jesus warning us to be afraid?
And yes, what about lazarus who longed to get out of hell , but couldn't?
What are we going to do with the verses in Rev 20 :11- 15, where it says that those whose names are not found in the book of life are cast into the lake of fire? I mean, with great respect, those verses mean something to you, surely?
If good people are saved regardless of their belief, why does Romans say that if we believe with our heart and confess with our mouths we will be saved? (Rom 10:9)
Why bother believing and confessing?
Yes, our God is slow to anger and abounding in love – but he certainly can be aroused to anger. We love to focus on the ark and the rainbow in the story of Noah – but what about the fact that God killed everybody else? My inbuilt sense of morality (as you put it) says God would never do that – but He did. How about the unprofitable servant in Matt 25. I would cut him some slack, I would give him a break, not send him to outer darkness. But Jesus does.
When you say that we should listen to our own inbuilt sense of moral value, do you think we should consider that it's possible that God's ways are simply not our ways? That His sense of justice is more perfect than our own. What you're saying is “God wouldn't act that way, because I wouldn't act that way.” I think that submitting God to our own sense of reasoning and justice is a dangerous thing to do.
I'm afraid that teaching atheists not to worry about death; that God will welcome them regardless, is not actually loving. The loving thing to do is to “Go into all the world and preach the good news and make disciples.” The loving thing to do is to 'snatch people from the fire and save them' (Jude 1v23).
I would LOVE to be wrong and find that heaven is full of people who never received Jesus and His gift of Salvation. But if I'm going to err one way or the other, I would rather err towards “warning people” (Ezek 3:18). I would rather the question of eternity cause me to actively seek out the lost and compel them to come home.
I've been an evangelist for 20 years. I love people. I pray for them and weep for them. I'm certain that you love people too and that both of us long for everyone's salvation.
I submit these comments humbly,
Steve.
WOW, GREAT comments.
Booghostie girl, welcome to my blog,
“In Laura Ingalls Wilder's book Mary says that people shouldn't worry so much about whether they are good, but should trust in the goodness of God.” That's lovely. Don't remember that, but love it.
LA, Wow, I think you are right that that could be one of the meaning of the workers being paid the same. What a lovely interpretation. I am co-leading a group looking at Luke's parables this term, and am amazed and delighted by how rich they are in meaning and how they say very different but plausible things to different people. Like a mirror, I guess.
Thank you, Preacherwoman. Like that!!
Thank you, Anon. It is indeed a lovely thought!!
My take on this is that I simply don't think there are any atheists in those final moments before death, because there is a clarity that comes and truth is revealed. Experience of those I know that have died reinforces this belief. This might seem simplistic and not “theological” enough but it would fit with the God you are describing who forgives those who do not believe and died for all sin. To appear to non believers and prepare them for death would seem likely to me!
When people quote John at you, you need to quote Matthew 25 31-46 & James 1, 22 – 26 back – or as you say, point to the loving forgiving character of Jesus as the supreme revelation of God's character.
I still say that in that instant of death, when we who live know not what is there, that God who brings us outside of time to His realm, may indeed hear their confession and forgive them and welcome them. Guessing who will be there and who will not (because I believe and you don't) is what one of the main points of the prodigal son and the workers who were all paid the same wages. To say that I believed for a lifetime and others believed for only the split second at the instant of death and we all go to heaven is unfair…is exactly the point of those two parables. We do not know what happens at the time of someone else's death and I have to trust God that the blameless and upright but not believers have a shot even unto the end and I cannot cry “foul” over it. To presume we know God's mind and heart is a tall presumption and places us as equals to Him.
This is something I struggle with myself. We just had a discussion in our Sunday school class, that someone had read a book that stated there will be far fewer people in heaven than you think, so you'd better be sure you're living right and not missing the mark. That kind of thing makes me uncomfortable. But then so does the idea that some have that it doesn't really matter what you believe; we'll all come around to being in heaven somehow.
In Laura Ingalls Wilder's one book (can't recall which one at the moment), Laura and Mary are discussing being good. Mary sums it up by saying that people shouldn't worry so much about whether they are good, but should trust in the goodness of God. Sounds like pretty deep theology from one who never went to seminary.