Don’t Like Unlimited Atonement? Take It Up With Jesus.

I’ve always struggled with the end of Matthew 22:1-14: the Parable of the Marriage Feast. I think it’s great that when the master’s acquaintances dishonor him by refusing the invitation to the feast, the master invites anyone else who might be willing to attend so that the wedding hall could be filled with guests. To me, that’s very much a view of unlimited atonement. However, at the end of the parable, the master throws some guy out for not having on the proper wedding garment - something I had always been taught that each guest personally brings with them. I’ve heard some preachers imply that the garment represents faith or good works or divine election, depending which one of those “vices” appeals most to your theological leanings. But I came across something a while back that changed how I read the last part of this parable.

This ”wedding garment” (sometimes called a Kuftan) is an outer robe that was worn at formal functions. Everyone wore this garment, whether they owned one or not. It was a symbol of equality: once everyone had theirs on, status and prestige disappeared and all respect was paid to the bridegroom alone. But the most important thing about this wedding garment was that it was provided by the host family to everyone who attended. Wealthy families (the kind that would’ve staged this feast) had a closet of them solely for the purpose of giving them out to their guests.

Now, that should change things for you. The master in the story sees a man in the main room (not in the foyer where the garments were given out) without his wedding garment on. He says, “Friend, how did you come in here (the main hall) without your wedding garment (Kuftan)?” In other words, you were offered a Kuftan when you entered…and the only reason you wouldn’t have it on now is if you purposefully chose to reject it. And that obstinate behavior is what caused the master to throw the guest out of the party.

You see, according to the context of first century Judaism, everyone would have received a wedding garment. There was no need to earn it, nor was it given to only a select or arbitrary few. Anyone and everyone received the garment regardless of socio-economic background or cultural status. And once everyone was together wearing their robes, egalitarianism reigned in the house of the master. And that’s exactly what Jesus was trying to say. Everyone gets a robe…unless they refuse to wear it. And even then, the master in this story offered the guest a second chance to reconsider before he threw him out – but the guest did not respond.

God’s not looking to throw anyone out of the party. In fact, you really have to want to get thrown out. And in this way, the marriage feast parable is fairly explicit in teaching unlimited atonement. To read beyond or dismiss this contextual clue is irresponsible. Personally, I’m thankful it’s in there. I’ve been stubborn enough at times to resist the wedding garment only to be drawn back to the king when he entreats me to return to the Kuftan closet and put it on. In this parable, the wedding garment is not a sign of judgment. It’s availability to all guests is a sign of God’s mercy and grace to anyone and everyone who wants to attend the feast.

Dilettante Dads

Here’s something I’ve been thinking about lately. We live in a world of specialization. The more of an “expert” you are in a particular field of interest, the more chance you have to secure your position as a person of importance and relevance. People spend their lives grasping for that level of expertise and our culture rewards those that give their heart and soul to a discipline, field, or technique. That’s easier for us. We then have a label. “Oh, he’s the medical/business/intellectual expert.” “She’s the manager/attorney/fashion expert.” We feel secure believing that we know everything we need to know about a person with one specialized label. I watch students struggle with this in college. When they ask, “What should be my major?” what they are really asking is “They are asking me to pick a label. What should my label be?”  

Fatherhood flies in the face of that notion. Fatherhood requires us to be well-rounded. A jack of all trades and a master of none. Furthermore, good fathering requires you to be present with your family rather than honing your skills of expertise. You hear this from dads all the time. They often talk about when they used to do something in particular, but the time they spent doing it was only for a few short years. Their areas of growth and knowledge center upon whether their children are into fishing or ballet or baseball or long division. And when their children move on, they do, too. So, for fathers (and many mothers), life becomes a race to cram everything they can into a work day and then shift gears by focusing on their family oriented ”expertise.” So in the end, fully invested fatherhood requires one to choose to not be an expert at anything. To be a Renaissance man. A dilettante. Someone who dabbles in areas of knowledge and skill without formally mastering any particular area. An amateur at everything.

Beth told me a story about a well-known and accomplished businessman and university president who was a guest speaker in one of her college classes. They class asked each visiting lecturer the same question: what is the single most important business advice you could give a college student? This formidable individual thought for a moment and then said, “Learn to play golf. Most business connections and profitable deals are not made in an office or over email. They are made on the golf course.”  I’m praying that this guy is wrong. Or at least that there’s another way to be successful. To me, success at my family’s expense is ultimately failure. So, I’m putting my eggs in another basket: the belief that I can remain professionally relevant and spiritually poignant while spending as much time as possible deeply invested in the lives of my children. The bigger payoff seems to lie there. Call it a hunch…but that’s what I’ll be doing. Check back in two decades and we’ll see if the gamble was worth it.

What Can We Know About Heaven and Hell?

I’ve heard a lot of sermons on heaven and hell. Too many I think. But I have noticed something interesting in the last few years: the detailed accuracy with which people describe both eternal places. Preachers seem to know everything about heaven and hell. Particularly hell. And that strikes me as strange for a couple of reasons.

First, the New Testament language about heaven is pretty vague. Certainly not up to our Western standards of rational detailed analysis. Most heavenly images are taken from Revelation which is clearly a book of symbols and Jewish apocalyptic imagery. Plus we have various experts describing heaven in detail for us, even down to what kind of house we get and what types of jobs will be waiting for us. Honestly, despite the popularity of Randy Alcorn’s book, most of that is conjecture. Peacefulness, joy, and comfort certainly describe it, but most people understand that golden streets and crystal seas are illustrations for something truly indescribable. People are okay with a preacher saying, “I don’t know everything about heaven, but I know it’s gonna be good!”

What’s more fascinating is the painstaking detail in which hell is described. Eternal torment involving fire, pain, and torture. According to most evangelial views of hell, people have the rest of eternity to sit around on fire and think about the bad things they did. Okay, that’s a little sarcastic there, but honestly hell is used more often in altar calls than heaven is. Some people, just in my questioning of the standard image of hell are getting nervous reading this right now. But what’s so strange about that is just how ambiguous the Bible is about the afterlife. People are satisfied to know that God has prepared somewhere for them in heaven and that puts their lack of detail at ease. But hell is a different story. In fact, the more detailed you can be, the better chance of scaring someone into salvation.

But really, hell is even more ambiguous than heaven. The Old Testament uses the word sheol to describe the afterlife – a word that means “grave” and little more. The Jews were relatively unconcerned about the afterlife, fully content to focus on what they could do in the present life to honor God. The New Testament seems to be more exact. But a closer look shows that there’s still much to debate. Jesus describes some ideas about it, but never really gives us details. He compares it to a local garbage dump (Gehenna) and talks about worms. And there’s more. The Greek word (aiōnios) generally used to describe the fire of hell is translated in as “eternal” – a period of time.  But in other places, the same word is used to describe an act of permanence of destruction – a state of quality. So, traditionalists say that it means eternal fire while conditionalists say it means permanent destruction (death) of the wicked. But the truth is that aiōnios and its Hebrew counterpart (olam) speak of things that all come to an end: the Passover, Caleb’s inheritance, Solomon’s Temple, and Gehazi’s leprosy. It’s just not that simple – the word means both. Similarly, traditionalists say that “gnashing of teeth” describes the torment of sinners in hell. But the ancient use found in the Old Testament assigned “gnashing of teeth” to someone about to destroy another – in the conditionalist’s case: God. So what does that mean to us today?  Honestly, it doesn’t tell us much.  And that’s the point I’m making. The same verses are used by people who believe different things about hell. And, surprisingly, I’m okay with that.

Why can we leave the details of heaven alone yet be compelled to extract every detail about hell? Because hell helps preachers out. Descriptions of hell illicit responses from people and, if used just right, can increase altar call numbers. But in doing that, I think we miss the point. When I told someone the other night that the gospel is not about them not going to hell, they looked at me strangely. They simply had never thought that there might be something beyond “fire insurance” and a list of do’s and don’ts to the gospel. The Bible shrouds the afterlife in ambiguity for a very important reason: so we won’t be tempted to bribe people into the Kingdom of God using either heaven or hell. If that’s what made you decide to be a Christian, then great. But intimacy with God lies beyond such ”survival of the fittest” techniques of evangelism. The gospel is about falling in love with a God who has already declared his unconquerable love for you.

Minivan Discrimination! Someone Call the Authorities!

Beth went back to work today after 12 weeks of maternity leave. During her leave, we switched cars - she drove the minivan while I took the MINI cooper. For me, it was a nice change of pace. I started driving the van about three years ago when I stayed home with our girls and wrote my doctoral dissertation. You may think that driving a van is strange for a guy. I suppose so…but I just spent 3 months driving the MINI while wearing an Express for Men wardrobe. Trust me – that raised some eyebrows, too.

I want to discuss an alarming trend in our country today: minivan discrimination. Now, don’t get me wrong – I like the van. However, a certain stigma does follow it. Minivans are known for erratic driving and illogical traffic behavior. I used to hate minivans as well for these reasons. Until I became the van driver: handing sippy cups and snacks over the seat, spending the majority of my time looking in the rear-view mirror to referee a fight, and rifling through toys while driving with my knees. Each van is accompanied by this type of behavior, compounded with speeding since (of course) vans are late to every engagement all the time.

However, as you become what I am now – a van ninja – you can do all these things without signalling to the outside world what is going on. Van ninjas look as if they are driving calmly down the road, never steering into the next lane by accident. But don’t be fooled, people. This state of perfection is more difficult than the game of golf. However, I have noticed a disturbing trend now that I have achieved van excellence. People pull out in front of vans constantly. At least 90% of the time, though there is no car behind me, a driver will pull out in front of me without hesitation.

Most other drivers assume that all van drivers are slow and incapable of efficient driving. That’s hardly the case. I drive my van like Jeff Gordon. Chances are that van drivers are doing twelve things at once – something that most regular drivers would never do…nay…could never do.  And there’s also a good chance that there are no children’s songs blaring in the background. I may be listening to the newest praise and worship CD…but it’s much more likely that we are rocking out to Cheap Trick or the Foo Fighters.

So, this is a plea to all other non-van drivers in the world. Give the minivan a chance, bro. There are van ninjas out there everywhere just looking for the chance to show off their mad skills. Don’t pull out in front of the van. Pull out behind it, knowing that the driving you will be witnessing in front of you is a work of art.

I Take Back What I Said About Facebook…

A while back, I told you here my reasons for not joining Facebook. I suppose those all still apply to me. I still don’t like surface friendships and I don’t particularly like small talk whether it be cyber-talk or not. But some things have happened recently that have slowly impressed upon me that I need to join this ridiculous social networking site:

1) There are groups of people discussing theology and my academic areas of interest on Facebook. And I am not in those conversations. There are professional/academic societies that I belong to that have Facebook groups. I am not on there. Therefore, it makes more sense to join in…particularly since I won’t be “road triping” to any conferences this coming year.

2) More importantly, I need to keep up with extended family better. I just got back from God’s Country. All my extended family was there. They jumped mid-stream into conversations that had already been started on Facebook. I looked like a nefariously insufferable dolt. I knew absolutely nothing that was going on in their lives. It became clear that if I want to be involved in their lives, I need to join Facebook. Face-friggin’-book!

So, there you go.

I’m on Facebook.

Happy?