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.

An Eastern Family in a Western World

The Bible is an Eastern book. It has Eastern culture, economics, social stigmas, literary style, etc., at its core. I believe that without this contextual “lens,” the ultimate meaning of the Bible at best is less impacting than in Jesus’ time.

However, some aspects of the Bible’s Eastern flavor seem to find their way into our lives without searching for it. Two of them are 1) the Eastern understanding of family roles and 2) the Oriental emphasis on shame and honor. It’s significant to me that there are technically two types of “shame” in Eastern societies. One is negative and the other is positive. The negative one condemns inappropriate behavior and the positive one helps individuals “save face” when confronted with a difficult situation. For example, with the persistent friend in Luke 11:5-8, Westerners assume that the friend banging on the door late at night has commited a cultural taboo. But actually, it’s the man who refuses to open the door and provide food for a town visitor that would have infuriated Jesus’ listeners. He violated basic Oriental cultural standards of hospitality.

Though these Eastern ideas don’t make it into our Bible interpretation very often (which means we usually miss the intended point), the Christian family can easily adopt these Eastern cultural norms for their own simply by reading the Bible together. My family did. We were different than other families I knew just based on emphasis of lifestyle. Though it certainly had to do with our Christianity, it also stemmed from living like an Eastern family in a Western world. Just by studying scripture, my brother and I absorbed Eastern understandings of right and wrong. We valued time, honor, authority, family rank, and so on without really understanding that the cultural emphasis for these concepts came straight outta scripture (not Compton). When I went out with friends or on a date at age 16, I fully understood that my family’s name and honor were on the line with each decision I made. I understood “losing face” without knowing what to call it. That was a greater deterrent than any punishment that may have followed an infraction. My other friends often saw themselves as individuals apart from their families – doing their own thing. I saw myself as part of a larger picture. Honestly, it made my decisions look weird to my friends.

Sometimes, those same cultural understandings, though appropriate for a family unit with children, become burdensome later in life if parents still enforce them on their adult children. But that doesn’t invalidate their usefulness during the parenting years. In fact, they may be vital to helping a child understand the impact his/her decisions have on others. Some of those “Eastern” family practices are still used with my two daughters now. Others aren’t. But I know this much: families with an Eastern understanding of honor are aware of one another. They respect each other more. And that makes them treat one another better, something all families could use a little more of.

Empowered Humility

My understanding of humility growing up was probably similar to yours. It involved shunning accolades, making sure I gave honor to God, declaring my unworthiness for salvation, and the like. I felt as though the compliments of others were poison darts filled with pride that would pierce my spiritual armor. The only way to defeat it? Deflect them with a good case of the “awww…shucks” and a hearty soli Deo gloria.

Now, I understand that perspective as a form of false humility – attempting to create within myself a facade of good-natured humility when really I craved the approval of others. I was not authentic. I said the correct things but relished in the attention/compliments of others. I now understand humility as something drastically different. Most people’s view of humility involves a resignation to some form of inactivity/timidity for the sake of “preferring others better than oneself.” And though that has a place in the Christian walk, it’s not the whole story. Empowered humility is really the defining mark of a Christian. In Romans 12, we find a recipe for Christian behavior. From the outset, Paul spends his time using action verbs – examples of behavior that are anything but idle. Even the verbs describing the willingness to put others’ interests in front of our own are intense, purposeful, and focused. It reminds me of the time-honored industrious phrase, “If you’re waiting on me, you’re backing up…” Verse 21 describes it best: “overcome evil by doing good.”  

You know, God is good, too. Tucked within the definition of “good” in any solid Greek lexicon is the idea of being productive. God’s actions are what ultimately declare his goodness. God looked at all he created and said it was good – it was active, dynamic, and teeming with life…just like him. We are made in his divine image – in Christ, we possess that same ability to be “good”: productive, active, constructive, energetic, and vigorous. But our common understanding of humility seems to state the opposite as if humility or meekness involves inactivity. To me, empowered humility involves taking the initiative under the direction of  God. Humble people see the desires and wishes of their Maker and move to make them a reality. Humility is not standing in a corner. It’s submitting ourselves to God and following him into active battle. It’s placing your life in the hands of another to fight for their cause with your life.

Empowered humility also involves attentiveness to the Holy Spirit and a willingness to put aside our own agendas and live an active life under guidance of the Spirit. There are countless examples of this in the Bible – active heroes and heroines who caught the vision of their Maker and moved forward to advance God’s vision: Noah, Abraham, Deborah, David, Nathan, Daniel, Hosea, the Apostles, Priscilla and Aquilla, Phoebe…the list goes on and on. And don’t forget the certainty and strength of Jesus – humble resolve in the face of persecution, need, and death. We know these names because they acted with the certainty of God, not because they were “shrinking violets” and emotional “doormats.” They were not weak. They were strong. But they weren’t strong for their own purposes. They were strong for God.  Forward-motion humility, empowered by the Holy Spirit. If you’ve been waiting for God to move, you’re backing up…

Trinitarian Evangelism

Similar to my obsession with divine sovereignty (an upcoming post), I have also been entertaining the idea of Trinitarian evangelism for about a year. I’m sure there are countless specialty books that delve into this topic specifically, but I haven’t read many of them. So, if I’m repeating something some world famous theologian has said, rest assured it was my idea first… 

Theology has shifted its focus to the Trinity in the last few decades. Part of this is to reformulate some Christian understanding of community. We are to imitate the relational aspect of God. Also, the charismatic movement has placed the “step child of the Trinity”(Van Dusen) on center stage. Uh oh. What do we do with the Holy Spirit?! So, Trinitarian models of theology began to show up (Rahner, Pannenberg, Jenson, Gunton, Moltmann, LaCugna, etc. No, I left Barth out on purpose. He wouldn’t like what I’m saying.). God began to be described as a “society of persons,” rather than some monolithic deity either with Christ or the Father at the center and the Holy Spirit as an ancillary member. This idea ran up hard against the hidden subordinationism evangelical theology implicitly subscribed to. But God can still remain one and be complex at the same time. The atom is a single entity, yet has several parts. If anything, the difficulty in describing God’s nature speaks to his greatness and complexity – something worthy of worship. So this “society of persons” relates, gives, supports, and involves all of its parts – defining love and community in the process. Weird, huh? Yeah, but fascinating, too. But there’s a problem.

 A lot of Trinitarian models continue to treat the Holy Spirit as the “social” or “immanent” Trinity (acting within itself and for itself – basically a conceptual model) when really from a practical standpoint what actually matters is the “economic” Trinity. An economic understanding of the Trinity describes how this society of persons relates to the created order. For the majority of everyday Christians living normal lives, that’s the important part. In other words, how does each “part” of God affect us? Hmmm…good question. That’s where my issues with Trinitarian evangelism come in.

Most evangelical models I know approach evangelism in the following way. After a person is brought to a place of conviction, someone leads a sinner to “accept Christ” or ask “Jesus to forgive their sins.” All that is fine, but where are the other two members of the Trinity? The focus is strictly on Jesus with the fringe benefit of getting the wrathful Father off your case. From what I can gather, we have a very linear way of expressing evangelism that most often includes an irregular form of subordinationism. Only, in evangelism, God the Father is not the top dog – Jesus is. That’s not to diminish the role of God the Son at all. However, if we take the Trinity seriously, we must find a place in evangelism on a practical level for God and for the Holy Spirit as well. I think the problem lies in the fact that we relegate all significance of the cross to ontological premise. But the cross has to be functional as well. In other words, the cross has to supply the bridge that not only allows us to pursue God but also for God to pursue us without inhibition. That includes the other two persons within the Trinity. So, rather than a single moment of evangelism that occurs looking back to the cross, the cross created a functional way for all three persons of the Trinity to simultaneously evangelize creation beyond the cross - even in the present moment, all three are engaged in evangelization of the world.

Rather than see Jesus, Father, and Spirit as a rank and file line for salvation (Jesus appeases the Father who, if you’re lucky, sends the Spirit.), maybe God is better explained as spokes in a wheel. That means that at any point all three persons within God’s “society” are free to pursue and attract any sinner based on which aspect of God he/she connects with the most. And I’m not talking about conceptual ideas of prevenient grace here – all of this falls into that category. What I am attempting to describe is how it looks to us as humans seeking God from the other side. For some, the loving Father is the attraction. For others, the Son holds particular significance. For others, the Spirit and the possibility of “feeling” God is attractive. Each person is different and God draws them by what attracts them to him the most – since he knows our hearts.

So, if God is a interweaving circle, a sinner can traverse along any “spoke” within the Trinity until he/she has reached the center. And there, he/she understands the role of all three persons and their joint, cooperative purpose of reaching him. That’s when salvation occurs. But in this model the Father and the Spirit hold the same level of attraction as Jesus does. Otherwise, only one aspect of the Trinity (Jesus) holds evangelical significance – the others are just for show. This doesn’t minimize the sacrifice of Jesus, his death and resurrection make all the “spokes” on the wheel of evangelism a functional reality.

Happily Unimpressed

We went to the mountains on vacation last week. We had a great time and everyone had lots of fun swimming, tubing, hiking, etc. Probably the craziest part of the whole vacation was the morning we were awakened by a six foot tall bear destroying our garbage bins in order to recover pork chop remains from the previous evening. Brad (the father of the family we vacation with each year) walked right down there, poked his chest out, and told that bear to get lost. The bear, overcome with terror at the confidence displayed by my dear friend, ran down the hill never to return.

Okay. It didn’t happen like that exactly…but the bear finally did leave our garbage alone.

There was time for spiritual reflection as well (though not as much as you’d think – we do have kids, you know). I got up early before everyone else the second morning and spent some time with God on the balcony of the cabin. This was our view. It was breathtaking. As I spent time with the Lord that morning, something unusual happened. I’ve heard many people express a sense of awe and majesty when out in nature. They say it makes them revere God and draws them closer to him. There’s certainly plenty of that in the Bible – a survey of the Psalms will tell you that much. And though I enjoyed the view, I must say that I did not feel any closer to God in that moment overlooking the beauty of nature than at any other time. Not feeling anything “spiritual” while looking at this view might scare some folks – if we can’t get excited about God’s displays of nature, what can we get excited about? I’ve heard that among groups of people out in nature before, as if praising the majesty of God in those moments is the “proper” Christian thing to do. That’s certainly one way to look at it. But I actually saw my absence of awe as a good thing. I figure (and this may not apply to everyone) that the fact that I didn’t feel any closer to God in that moment means that I’m close enough to him to overshadow moments of nature like that one. After a while, though I can recognize God in moments of natural beauty, my Christian walk should move to a place where outside influences should not be central to my relationship with Jesus. We normally talk about the “lows” – the trials of life – not affecting our spiritual disposition. But what about the “highs?” Those “peak” experiences?

That’s what I walked away with that morning: the confirmed belief that God is more than a balcony view, a breathtaking waterfall, the vastness of an ocean, or the smile of a newborn. They may point to him, but God is more beautiful than all of them combined. And God can internally convey his beauty to us without the external assistance of nature. “God of Wonders” and “Indescribable” can only take you so far. Though I loved our mountain view, I am glad to say that compared to the full spectrum of God’s grace, love, and friendship he has bestowed in my life, I was happily “unimpressed.”

Preaching the Synoptic Gospels

I finally finshed up my reading on faith and science. That was certainly a lot to think about. I’ll post about those ideas in the next few weeks as I get my thoughts together for my Sunday school series.

So, I finally get to read something I am interested in for a few weeks. I immediately pulled Brad Young’s latest book, Meet the Rabbis off the shelf – I’ve been dying to read it for months. It reminded me about how much I love the “Jerusalem School” of Synoptic  interpretation. That is something I’ve never really posted about so I thought I’d do that here. I first encountered this movement while studying the historical background of the New Testament in graduate school. It was marvelous. I thought my brain was going to explode. The context of first century Judaism is one of the most (if not the most) important aspects of Synoptic interpretation. Since the early 80s, the Jerusalem School has used rabbinical tradition and Jewish cultural context to frame the words of Jesus (It began with the work of David Flusser, Robert Lindsey, and Shmuel Safrai at Hebrew University). In its rabbinical context, Jesus’ words reveal precise interpretation – something lost in our generalized, Westernized approach to scripture. For me, they do what Robert Alter and Simon Bar-Efrat have done for the Old Testament. If you are preaching the gospels and have not digested their research, chances are good you may be missing a significant part of its meaning – particularly the parables. And that doesn’t have to do with our ability to interpret a text, but rather our inability to fully interpret without the original rabbinical references. All the Greek in the world won’t help you unearth those Hebraisms that inform that original interpretation.

Though not all of the books below originated in the “Jerusalem School,” here’s a good list to start with when learning about Synoptic context and rabbinical tradition:

Brad Young, The Parables: Jewish Tradition and Christian Interpretation

Kenneth Bailey, Poet and Peasant/Through Peasant Eyes

David Bivin and Roy Blizzard, Understanding the Difficult Words of Jesus

David Daube,  The New Testament and Rabbinic Judaism

Julius Scott, Jewish Backgrounds of the New Testament

Marvin Wilson, Our Father Abraham

David Flusser, The Sage of Galilee

David Instone-Brewer, Traditions of the Rabbis from the Era of the New Testment: Prayer and Agriculture

Oskar Skarsaune, In the Shadow of the Temple: Jewish Influences on Early Christianity

 Do yourself a favor and read everything Young and Bailey have written.

Here’s a thought: a lot of folks are worried about “postfoundationalist” interpretation of the Bible – that there is no “framework” in which to firmly place Jesus’ teachings. But it seems that Jesus made sure that his words would not be interpreted too far from his original intent. He didn’t choose archaeology or geography to anchor his teachings. He chose literature – rabbinic literature to be exact. And the literature/oral tradition with which Jesus interacted (the Mishnah, Tosefta, and Tannaitic Midrashim, etc.) has been painstakingly preserved by its followers. So, the “reference” points of the gospels are as strong today as when they were spoken by Jesus himself. Curious about the “framework” from which Jesus taught? Check out the books above.

“Change We Can Believe In,” Part 3

As usual, God offers us an alternative. Self-esteem is derived from something deeper: God-esteem. I am convinced that deep down, what we think about ourselves is directly related to what we believe God thinks about us. Behind each of our motives lies a deeper truth: the core of our being is directly tied to how we view God. If you believe God thinks little of you, then you’ll think little of yourself. If you wake up every morning to a God who plans to bully you through adverse circumstances all day to teach you some patience, then your day isn’t going to go very well. If you believe God tolerates you, then you will merely tolerate others. But if you believe God is gracious and kind…if you believe that God not only loves you, but that God likes you, you will esteem yourself differently. Honestly, 99% of events in a day have little effect on your life. Yet, we swing back and forth, acting like insignificant issues are life-changing. There are only two reasons for this: 1) we’re bored or 2) we have nothing more permanent to base our outlook on.

God-esteem places full confidence in the permanent character of God. For me, this is based solely on the unyielding love of a God who wants my affection and devotion. His love for me is unconditionally the same at all times in life. Churches have heard about the love of God so much that they fail to realize what it entails. The key to understanding the love of God is to understand that it’s unconditional. Before I understood what unconditional love meant, I had assumed that God’s love was like that of a parent or friend – it rose and fell based on my performance for him. When I say that I mean I believed that although God “loved” me the majority of the time, I felt like God rarely approved of my walk with him. His love, acceptance, and approval was conditional – based on the circumstances of my behavior.

Unconditional love is love that isn’t swayed by performance. And though I knew that there was nothing I could do to make God love me less, I had missed the other side of unconditionality. There was nothing I could do to make God love me more. So, all my attempts to get God’s attention were not increasing his delight in me. I was not winning him over with my scripture memory or my praise and having my radio preset to K-Love. He was winning me over with his unconquerable, unstoppable, undaunted love for me. I was the center of God’s full, intense, and romantic affection. And I was not getting his attention – he was stalking me with an undying level of infatuation that never ends. And there was nothing I could do to change that – all I had to do was lay back into his love and rest there my whole life.

Love without conditions. Without reservations. Without qualifications. Though others may see me as a failure, in God’s eyes, I never am. So my outlook on life never changes – and my view of myself reflects that permanence of God’s unconditional love. My self-esteem is really God-esteem. How does God esteem me? He loves me. And there’s nothing anyone can do about it! That’s the ultimate “happening” in life…a truth that lives above the ups and downs of life’s circumstances. God-esteem keeps us stable in times of change – it’s the only permanent thing on the planet. And that’s the root of lasting joy and fulfillment. When you can stake your life on the reality of Zephaniah 3:17: that God takes “delight in you with gladness/With his love he will calm all your fears/He will rejoice over you with joyful songs,” then you have something that gives you permanent joy. That’s what God thinks about me. That’s what God thinks about you.

Our scripture this morning reflects this truth. How do we know that God loves us unconditionally? We find the answer in Jesus. Jesus is God explaining himself to the world…inviting us into his forgiveness and grace. “God became flesh and dwelt among us. He was full of unfailing love and faithfulness. For the law was given through Moses, but God’s unfailing love and faithfulness came through Jesus Christ. Jesus, who is himself God, is near to the Father’s heart. He has revealed God to us.” We were created to connect with God in such a way that the changes of life seem trivial when we’re basking in the glow of God’s unconditional love.

Coping with change involves resting in the truth that something more permanent lies beyond the changes we see in life. Circumstances come and go, but at no point do we cease to be the sole focus of God’s intense unfailing, unconditional, eternal love. That’s a reality that doesn’t happen overnight for most people. You may feel you are undeserving of that type of love. I have good news: you’re in good company. No one deserves it. That’s the point. Yet, we gladly receive it. And as we learn to live our lives in that awesome truth, our dependence on the accolades of others, the tyranny of the workplace, and the desire for material things are seen for the second-rate things they are. Nothing compares to the unconquerable love of God. It’s waiting for you this morning.

Learning to “Feel” God

I promised you in the post about Maxie Dunnam that I would follow up by exploring the idea of “feeling” God. Here you go…

Pastoring is a tricky business. Taking concepts developed in an innocuous vacuum of journal articles, magazine op-eds, and…well…blogs and translating them into real life is difficult. Rarely is the transition a smooth one. That’s because pastoring involves people. Theology involves concepts. Though everyone lives from a place of personal theology, the outworking of that personal theology is often drastically different from one person to the next. Nurturing the growth of such a diverse group of folks can be the undoing of any industrious minister. But I’ve noticed something that helps direct my personal ministry. One of the things I feel most “called” to in the ministry is the help people understand and facilitate their ability to “feel” God.

Shane Raynor (the author of Wesley Report- a cyber-hub of all things Methodist) posted his thoughts on the idea of “Actualizing the Holy Spirit.”  Great article. Actualization can describe the integration of an idea of concept on a cognitive or emotional level – a hangover from the concepts of Maslow’s self-actualization and his writings on peak experiences. But personally, I take the idea even farther towards the concept of somatization: the conversion of cognitive, emotional, or spiritual aspects to physical or tangible expressions. For spiritual purposes, it’s the work of  the Holy Spirit in bodily manifestation. Normally in the psychiatric/medical community, that term has negative connotations. But honestly, anything - good or bad, happy or sad – affects us physically. It’s the same idea found in the ridiculously overused term “psychosomatic.” Internal issues result in physical expression. Good dissertation topic: explore the connotations of positive forms of somatization in humans and its theological similarities to the Incarnation as an example of the economy of salvation (oikonomia). Tell me when you’re done and I’ll read it with great interest…

Over the years, I’ve watched many individuals have a spiritual encounter that completely shifted their personal paradigm of God’s nature and immanence. In each of those scenarios, experience (of some sort) confirmed the power of God available to them on a personal level. Personally, it struck me as odd that God would initiate a strong spiritual encounter when I knew that many of those who received it had little to no doctrinal knowledge. I believed God was doing things backwards; after all doctrine comes first, right? But it occurred to me that throughout the history of the church, many people openly rejected any attempt of indoctrination without a prior or accompanying spiritual experience to validate that doctrine’s truth. Once someone has an encounter where they “feel” God, they will desire to know more about the God who provided that experience. God anchors faith in experience until one becomes grounded in proper belief. I began to understand my pastoral role was to disciple a healthy and balanced Christian upon the foundation of those spiritual encounters – not denying their legitimacy or downplaying their appropriateness.

How Christianity translates the supernatural into daily life is the most important aspect of personal spirituality today. Many pastors and theologians are struggling with this. Contemporary Christians are eager to cast off strict, doctrinally-oriented approaches to Christianity without accompanying experience. We ask Christians all the time  to follow their beliefs with actions – that our love relationship with God requires corresponding expression in a personal way. But today’s Christians have turned the tables: they actually expect to understand God’s love through the experiences he provides. 

Christianity has always been a two-pronged religion. One side involves doctrinal ascent to a set of beliefs centering on the finality of Jesus Christ. The other side is more “subjective” – it involves the prospect of “feeling” God through experience. That experience becomes an anchor for faith that can be leaned upon as doctrinal maturity develops. Of course, ministers and theologians get this backwards all the time - we teach doctrine in hopes that it will lead to experience for our congregations. But people’s actions tell us differently. When they are forced to choose between experiencing something on a spiritual level or adopting a particular set of dogma, they most often choose experience, since they ultimately believe that experience will correctly inform their doctrine, not the other way around. In other words we’ve been doing theology backwards. Postmodern Christians don’t say “I believe because I know;” they say “I believe because I feel.” It doesn’t have to be crazy charismatic stuff…but it’s gotta be something.

There are thousands of examples of this throughout church history. But how about a modern example. This video of Brian Head Welch, the former guitarist of Korn, discusses the role of “feeling” God in coming to Christ. Check out his comments about experience starting around 5:20.

The “Holiness” of Johnny Cash

I’ve told you before that my daughters really enjoy listening to Johnny Cash. I do, too. The story lines and delivery of his songs are great – some of that stuff is difficult to play, too. The snare drum work on “Orange Blossom Special” and the picking style on “Jackson,” for example. Claire Grace really likes ”Walk the Line.” I’m not sure if it’s the subtleness of the melody as it makes it’s way around a modified circle of fifths (she has the same musical tastes as her father and that’s something I find intriguing) or the droning precision of the rhythm section. A very well-crafted song.

From a theological perspective, it’s the lyrics that fascinate me though. Here are some of them:

I find it very, very easy to be true
I find myself alone when each day is through
Yes, I’ll admit that I’m a fool for you
Because you’re mine, I walk the line

You’ve got a way to keep me on your side
You give me cause for love that I can’t hide
For you I know I’d even try to turn the tide
Because you’re mine, I walk the line

To me, the lyrics of this song really capture an understanding of relational holiness. Now, when I say “holiness,” most people think of a list or series of tasks that Christians must do in order to find acceptance in God’s sight. Or they attribute the holiness of God to the idea that because God is holy (read: better than us) he, in the words of Plato, “mingles not with man.” Of course, all this does is make God seem unapproachable. But I think Johnny Cash does a pretty good job of portraying an accurate view of what God is hoping for among us.

In all of these lyrics, the speaker “walks the line” in response to the generosity, kindness, actions, and support of the one they love. It’s “easy to be true” to one who loves you so much – Cash describes the ease of resisting temptation based on the goodness of his lover. Faithfulness is something we normally assume is one of the more difficult things to do (particularly if you watch a lot of TV). But Cash describes the ease of loyalty that is fostered when the goodness and pure intentions of another person are revealed. When we have “cause for love,” our response – if we are fully invested in that love relationship – is one of reciprocity. It becomes effortless to “walk the line” when we’re enraptured with the beauty of the one we intently gaze upon. Nothing else seems to matter. When those factors are in place, then the lifestyle that reflects that relationship naturally follows. And that, my friends, is relationally-based holiness – a sign of transformation, not conformity to rules. Natural, comfy, peaceful, uncomplicated, honest, and open.

 I used this example with a friend the other day when talking about the difference between styles of holiness. If you grew up (like I did) with the impression that I could somehow ”will” myself to a place of holiness, then chances are good you were miserable like me. I just assumed that was something that I could do to impress God. Obviously that’s not the case. Let’s say that that model of holiness is kinda like a car: you’re driving it to get from one place to the other. There’s only one problem – the gas mileage stinks. You can tinker with the engine all you want and increase the MPGs a little bit, but nothing substantial.  In the end, you finally figure out that you need a new car designed for better gas mileage  - a better vehicle to get from point A to point B. At least for me, that’s what I had to do.

Holy living is not the goal of the Christian walk. Relationship is. And lifestyle changes are signs or goalposts that encourage us to delve deeper into relationship with the Father. Of course, if we only focus on the signs, we ignore the sign-maker. That’s a great way to make sure we never see the lifestyle changes we’re hoping for. Look at it this way: the Ten Commandments (at least for the Christian walking in grace) are no longer “commandments” – goals for outward conformity. They become the Ten Promises. They represent the natural results that occur when someone is infatuated with Jesus. They are not coerced or “willed” into being. They are engendered by a deep trust in God. Wrapped in the arms of a loving God, we find it “very, very easy to be true.” Now, that’s a God I can worship.

Walk His Way: He Forgave, Part 3

Now let’s talk about the nuts and bolts of forgiveness for a few minutes. When I talk about forgiveness like I have the last several minutes, the idea of forgiveness for most of us becomes impractical. Either we feel that we’ll be disingenuous in forgiving others or we will become “doormats” for the rest of the world. As I said before, forgiveness does not condone the behavior of another, letting them “off the hook” so to speak – as if forgiving someone means conceding defeat – or that we “lose” when we forgive. Nothing could be further from the truth. I want to use another analogy to show you how forgiveness occurs. I heard an illustration concerning forgiveness by Yale Divinity School professor Miroslav Volf a few years ago that deeply impacted my understanding of forgiveness. At that time in my life, I was wrestling with exactly what forgiveness meant and how I could forgive in a more complete way. The tired rhetoric of “just forgive and forget” or “you better forgive or God won’t forgive you” really rubbed me the wrong way. Comments like that seemed “cheap” – like they were shouted from an ivory tower. It dismissed my pain and seemed to force me to condone the perpetrator’s acts. His illustration helped me tremendously with this so I wanted to share it with you.

Volf says forgiveness is like a present. Forgiveness is given as a gift to another. Most people are happy to receive the gift of forgiveness…but they have to open the gift in order to receive it fully. What’s inside the box? The accusation of wrong-doing. In order to take the gift of forgiveness, the offender must take the responsibility for the fact that his or her decision crushed the heart of another. Forgiveness is not only a gift – it’s a scathing indictment. Forgiveness has two parts: 1) you hurt me and 2) I forgive you.

So, receiving forgiveness requires us to admit that we need to be forgiven. Obviously this is true with the gift of the cross. We receive forgiveness from Christ after we admit that we need that forgiveness. And that’s usually the hardest part. Though we are happy to do this with Jesus, what about with each other? That was my issue: How do I grant forgiveness without giving the impression that I condone the betrayal? That’s when I began to understand that forgiveness happens in stages – it’s a process. A Christian needs to extend forgiveness to others, but that doesn’t mean their forgiveness will be fully received, simply because of the indictment it contains. Sometimes the perpetrator may choose to never open the gift…and we can’t make them unwrap it.

So, what we find mostly among people is partial forgiveness. Here are some examples:

• The victim has forgiven but the accused refuses to accept responsibility of any wrongdoing.
• Or, similarly, the accused refuses responsibility saying their actions were necessary for some greater good – something seen as more important than the victim’s betrayal.
• Or the accused dies before forgiveness can be extended to them. 
• On the other hand, sometimes the guilty desires forgiveness, but the victim refuses to grant it as a form of punishment.

In all these cases, partial reconciliation is a best case scenario. Forgiveness remains in a partial state of completion. Sometimes things stay that way until the end of time – when both people can see forgiveness in the light of heaven.

So, what are you saying, Sam? I’m saying that forgiveness takes time. Forgiveness can only occur when both people are ready. Forgiveness is not a cheap way out for either party – the accused is not let off the hook and the victim doesn’t sweep their feelings under a rug of “Christianese” – religious language that really means nothing. True forgiveness is more than a concession to what we were taught in Sunday school – it is about making things right. Sometimes accepting forgiveness requires the accused to take the time to regain the trust of the betrayed – that long arduous journey is part of forgiveness. Because of this, forgiveness in our fallen world happens in shades of completion. We should be patient with others as they come to terms with the cost of forgiveness. And if you desire the forgiveness of another, make sure you are willing to accept that’s inside the box…

There’s a popular author and speaker named Rob Bell who pastors a church in the Seattle area. Rob’s always interesting to read or to watch, simply because he likes to think outside of the box. He approaches topics in a simple but unique way. I was watching one of Rob’s videos about two years ago and he said something that has stuck with me since then. How do you know forgiveness has occurred in your heart towards another person? Rob says that happens when you can “wish the other person well.” Now, that gives us a goal, doesn’t it? – an end to bitterness and resentment. Notice that doesn’t mean we ever have to condone the behaviors that created such grief our lives. We merely have to release that person from our judgment. God can bless everyone. He can also correct everyone. That’s his job.

Our job is to recognize that forgiveness comes in stages. And that takes time. It’s a process that may never find its completion until we are embraced in the Father’s love. Until then, we must accept that we see “through a glass darkly.” But as the Father’s love continues to fill our hearts, eventually…not immediately…but eventually, he will help us find a way to forgive so that we can wish well those who have hurt us. Over time, we will find ourselves able to say the words of Jesus: “Freely you have received, freely give.”