Short and Sweet

"Is the world safer with bin Laden dead? Who knows. But it is better."

~Peggy Noonan

Why I Don't Need to Read Love Wins to Know I Don't Need to Read Love Wins

If you haven't heard of this book, good for you. It probably means that you have better things to do than waste lots of time on the Internet reading about books that you don't need to read. But lots of Christians out there are talking about Love Wins by Rob Bell, pastor of Mars Hill Church  and author of  books like Velvet Elvis and Sex God. The book has stirred controversy because in typical Bellian fashion, the author raises provocative questions from the beginning of the book. He tells an anecdote about an art fair at his church. An artist  incorporated a quote by Gandhi into her artwork, and someone attached a note to it saying, "Reality check: He's in hell." This leads Bell to ask, first, how anyone knows what Gandhi's eternal destiny is. But this is the broader question that this leads to: "Of all the billions of people that have ever lived, will only a select number 'make it to a better place' and every single other person suffer in torment and punishment forever? Is this acceptable to God? Has God created millions of people over tens of thousands of years who are going to spend tens of thousands of years in anguish? Can God do this, or even allow this, and still claim to be a loving God?"

And we see where Pastor Rob is headed. In a later chapter, he criticizes churches who give a summary of their beliefs on their websites and state their belief that those who do not believe in Jesus will be sent to eternal punishment in hell. It's as clear as Rob ever gets that he doesn't like this, that this notion of eternal judgment is contradictory to a God with whom all things are possible.

But that's it. That's all I've read--the Amazon preview. And I don't need to read any more to tell you that I don't need to read this book. Clearly Rob is questioning the doctrine of judgment and hell, and I really don't have any questions about that. It isn't that I know all there is to know about the Bible and its teachings--far from it. But I am Reformed, and Reformed believers have the great blessing of historic creeds and confessions that provide summaries of what the Bible has to say about the major doctrines of the church. These confessions were written by theologians, godly men who studied the Scriptures and summarized their teachings. And these same confessions have been upheld by other godly Christians and church bodies who have studied the matter and affirmed that--yes--this is what Scripture teaches on this subject. 

And so what does the Heidelberg Catechism have to say about eternal judgment?

Q. How does Christ's return "to judge the living and the dead" comfort you?

A. In all my distress and persecution I turn my eyes to the heavens and confidently await as judge the very One who has already stood trial in my place before God and so has removed the whole curse from me. All his enemies and mine he will condemn to everlasting punishment: but me and all his chosen ones he will take along with him into the joy and glory of heaven.

And the catechism gives Scripture references to support  what it says: Luke 21:28; Romans 8:22-25; Philippians 3:20-21; Titus 2:13-14; Matthew 25:31-46; 11 Thessalonians 1:6-10.

I don't need to read all of Rob's distorted catechism questions with no answers to find the answers to questions that have been answered thoroughly and biblically from the Scriptures centuries ago, especially when he's offering us a heresy that has been rejected already many times through the centuries. I don't need to revisit what I've been taught about hell from my childhood because what I've been taught is the truth of God's Word.

Of course there are those of you out there who are wondering how fair it is of me to judge that Pastor Rob's ideas are all wrong when I haven't even heard him out or read his arguments. Again, this is a non-issue for me, so I don't need to hear him out. But this is one of the great blessings of the information age--the Internet. There are plenty of theologians out there who are willing to read this book and review it. And because I know  that reviewers like Carl Trueman, Kevin DeYoung, and Mark Galli are reliable, wise, and discerning, I can take their word for it when they tell me that Love Wins contradicts the truths of Scripture and history. 

So I close, not with questions about hell, but with the answers that have stood the test of God's Word and history: 

Hell and judgment, the Bible teaches, are acceptable to God. They are part of His plan.

Really.

God has created millions, billions of people who will suffer eternity in anguish.

Truly.

This is acceptable to a loving God. In fact, this is the requirement of a loving God, a God with whom all things are possible.

And this is sad. Some will spend eternity apart from him.

But here's the good news: God gave His Son, Jesus, to die for the sins of the world, so that whoever believes in Him will not perish but will have everlasting life.

This is all about justice,

mercy,

and--yes--love.

Flower Delivery

At Christmas and Easter, the decorating committee at our church fills the sanctuary with the season's fresh flowers, and after the Sunday evening service, members of the congregation deliver the flowers to the shut-ins of the congregation. Our family was asked to deliver flowers to three ladies and a couple living in a retirement community, and so we filled the front and back seats with Easter lilies and a pink tulip and headed out, a little overwhelmed by the perfume of the Easter lilies.

Our first stop was at a dear lady's room in the nursing care part of the complex. When I first met her four years ago, she was close to ninety. She was Henry's friend--the only person I've ever heard call him Henk, the Dutch nickname for Henry. She was full of love, life, laughter, and joy in the Lord, and I'm so glad I knew her before she took the fall that started her rapid decline. Once animated, dressed in a sparkly suit on Sundays, she now laid quietly in the darkening room, wearing a hospital gown. Henry quietly approached and the rest of stayed back a little, not wanting to startle or overwhelm her.

Confused, at first she thought Henry was our pastor, but she quickly realized who her flower delivery person was. When I met her, she spoke English well--she's lived in America for much of her adult life--but her aging mind remembers the Dutch she spoke as a girl, and so she began rattling away at Henry, who understands and speaks some. She pointed to the Easter lily that was already there, and (as I pieced things together) told Henry that she already had one. In Dutch, he told her that now she had two.  I was impressed that either he (a) understood her and was able to communicate back to her, or (b) was able to act like he genuinely understood her and spoke back to her. I found out later that for my sweet husband, it was a little of a and more of b. That's one of the reasons I love him so much. He was very convincing.

They talked for a bit, and then she noticed the rest of us. She did recognize me, and it amazed me when she realized that she had to speak to me in English--and did. In the brief time we knew each other, she and I developed a mutual admiration, and she told me, "You are beautiful," as we held hands. I said, "You are beautiful," and I meant it. I kissed her neatly manicured hand--prettier than mine will ever be--and told her I loved her. She blew Henry a kiss as we left. It was hard to leave her, but there were other flowers to deliver before the evening was over.

Our last delivery was to an 89-year-old lady that I didn't know well. She still lives in independent living apartments. We all took seats in her nicely decorated and very tidy living room, and she insisted on serving all five of us cookies and orange juice. A traditional lady, she offered us refreshments several times, and at first we told her not to bother. Finally we accepted the orange juice and homemade cookies (delicious--glad we did) and found out that we drank up all her OJ. Later I told Henry that I felt bad about that, but he said that if we didn't accept her offer, we would have worried her to death. Dutch ladies must be hospitable--it's who they are, and they will find something to feed you.

We talked for awhile, and I fell in love with her when she told us this story. She walks with a walker that has a little seat on the front for carrying things. She had been making some soup, and was putting it into containers to freeze for another meal when she fell, spilling the hot soup all over her hands--she still had some scars from the incident. She didn't want anyone to know that she fell because if the wrong people found out, it could mean a transfer into the not-so-independent-apartments in another part of the complex, so she pushed through the pain and pulled herself up on her bad knee (she told us it really hurt), using her walker and a kitchen chair. She deserved way more than an Easter lily, but that was all we had.

It was a good way to end the day of resurrection, spending time with people who had been celebrating that resurrection far longer than we have and experiencing the blessings of its truth for many years. While we left them with a potted plant, they left us with the blessing of fellowship and communion of the saints. I will definitely be signing up to deliver poinsettias this Christmas.

Resurrection

Oh God of my exodus,
 Great was the joy of Israel's sons,
     when Egypt died upon the shore,
Far greater the joy,
     when the Redeemer's foe lay crushed in the dust.
Jesus strides forth as the victor,
     conqueror of death, hell, and all opposing might;
He bursts the bands of death,
     tramples the power of darkness down,
     and lives forever.
He, my gracious surety,
     apprehended for payment of my debt,
     comes forth from the prison house of the grave
     free, and triumphant over sin, Satan, and death. . . .
What more could be done than thou hast done!
     Thy death is my life,
     thy resurrection my peace,
     thy ascension my hope,
     thy prayers my comfort.

~from The Valley of Vision

A Place Called Mercy: John 5

A description of the spot makes it sound like something that should be on a postcard: a pool with five covered walkways in Jerusalem called Bethesda, which means mercy. Mercy was the last thing you could expect to find in this anti-resort visited by multitudes of blind, crippled, paralyzed people who spent their days waiting for an unpredictable angel to stir the waters. The first one in, they said, would be instantly healed. And so the blind waited, even though they wouldn't be able to see the water bubbling. The crippled and paralyzed waited too--even though they wouldn't be physically able to move into the pool--at least not quickly--when the water stirred. And so instead of peace, relaxation, and happiness, those waiting by this pool were filled with desperation, anxiety, and sadness.

And if you were in Jerusalem to celebrate the feast, is this where you would go? To this pool of despair surrounded by the hopeless? It would be a little like going to New York City to watch the Thanksgiving parade and instead, going to a homeless shelter or a hospice. And yet Jesus, in Jerusalem for the feast, did just that: he went to the pool called Bethesda, which means mercy. And out of the multitudes of the sick, Jesus saw one  nameless man who had been ill for thirty-eight years--longer than most people in those days lived.

There was nothing particularly attention-grabbing about this man lying on his bed by the pool in a place called Mercy. Jesus just "knew" that he had been there a long time. And so out of all the masses of sick people, Jesus looked upon this invalid and asked him a very strange question: "Do you want to be healed?" Who wouldn't want to be healed after thirty-eight years of lying on a mat? So then the man, of course, responded, "Of course." Except that stories in the gospel of John never go the way we would expect them to, and that's not what the man said. So the man answered just as strangely as Jesus asked: "There isn't anyone to put me in the water when it stirs, and by the time I get to it myself, someone else gets there first." He almost sounds a little defensive, doesn't he, as if Jesus is accusing him of something instead of asking him a simple question. When we are confronted with sinless perfection, it's sinfully natural to become defensive, to blame someone else for our own failures and flaws.

And so the man who expected his salvation to come from an angel stirring the pool of water found it coming from this stranger who told him to take up his bed and walk. Wouldn't you expect him to say, "Why didn't I think of that? Don't you think I would if I could?" But he didn't. He did what everyone Jesus calls does, must do. He took up his bed and walked. And later, when he meets Jesus in the temple, he comes to understand that physical healing, a wonderful thing, is actually a small thing when we understand that what we really need from Jesus is spiritual healing so that we can go and sin no more.

How like those invalids by the pool are we all--blind to our sin, unable to walk in God's paths, paralyzed and unable to do anything pleasing to him. We lie by the pool, helpless to do anything to bring about our own cure, trusting in anything we can to bring us salvation, anything except the one who truly can save. But he comes to us--hopeless, desperate, full of self-pity, with nothing that would draw anyone to us--knows, chooses us, calls us, and transports us from the pool of despair to Mercy, asking us if we want to be well. He knows that we are helpless even to answer, so he tells us to get up, take up our bed, and walk. And sin no more.