Tag Archives: Jesus

Reflection from My Mom’s Funeral (Sunday Is Coming)

On October 16, 2012, I lost my mom to breast cancer. This is the sermon/reflection I gave for her funeral.

Romans 8:31 What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? 32 He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? 33 Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. 34 Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. 35 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? 36 As it is written,
“For your sake we are being killed all the day long;
we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.”
37 No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. 38 For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, 39 nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

We gather here today to mourn the death of and rejoice over the life of Deborah Lynn Curry, wife, friend, sister, grandmother, and mom: my mom. She leaves behind her beloved family: her husband, Evan; her mother, Irene; her brothers, Bob and Scott; her children: Jonathan, Philip, Aaron, Amanda, Katie, Arielle, and me; and her grandchildren: Giselle and Evan, IV. A strong woman of faith in God and love for her family. Deborah was born on April 16th, 1961, and died on Tuesday, October 16th, 2012. She was 51 years young.

Mom: life from death
As I began to prepare for the reflection, I wanted to think of a story about Mom like the time she got so angry at Dad that she threw a coffee mug at the window and chased him outside, pounding on the hood of his car as he drove off to work. Or how Mom would get upset when Dad would jokingly refer to her as “Nancy” after his own mother. Or about how much we laughed when she used to hide and chase us around the house with a wooden spoon. Or how she enthusiastically she would greet us when we’d come over. Or how she shed tears of joy when Giselle was born or how I would’ve missed my son Evan’s birth if it wasn’t for her.

But the more I think about Mom, I am drawn to the idea that she was someone who often “brought life from death.” Many of you may not have known this, but Mom grew up in a dysfunctional household with an abusive father. Her childhood was full of death, yet Mom brought life from it. She stopped the generational sin that could’ve been my reality, our reality, and worked hard to make sure our lives would not reflect the death of her own childhood. When Mom was diagnosed with breast cancer for the first time in 2001, she used her situation to encourage others to live a life of faith. And, finally, when Mom was diagnosed with Stage 4 breast cancer, she decided to spend more time with us, her family; instead of giving up, she fought for us. She responded to death with life. These are just a few examples of how my mom brought life from death.

Saturday
It’s seems only appropriate to bury Mom on Saturday. Our Lord Jesus, too, was in the ground on Saturday. Having been crucified on a Friday, his body laid in the grave on Saturday. Since we know how the story ends, it’s easy for us to read the story of Jesus’ death on Friday and skip over Saturday to Sunday when he is resurrected.

But I imagine, on Saturday, the disciples must have felt similarly to how we feel now. One account expresses the heaviness of their hearts, they ” thought he would be the one to redeem Israel.” It appeared Jesus had failed. He was dead. Finished. Never to be seen again. And, on Saturday, the hopes and dreams of Jesus’ followers lay dead in the grave with their Lord. They lost hope. They cried. They mourned. Their hearts ached. They were disappointed. They felt robbed. They felt cheated. The man who they believed would redeem Israel, to their knowledge, was simply rotting in the grave. Dead. Time must have moved very slowly that day without Jesus. Those 24 hours must have felt like an eternity. And, for all they knew, it wasn’t going to get any better.

Sunday
But then Sunday came. Jesus rose from the dead. God brought life from death. And the pain, sorrow, disappointment, and dashed hopes of the disciples were all washed away when the resurrected Christ stood before them, spoke to them, and broke bread with them.

Saturday was a day of disappointment and tears, hours feeling like eternity, and death permeating every thought and every moment. For us, Mom’s death permeates our every thought and every moment. Like the disciples, we feel robbed and cheated. We are disappointed. The hopes we had of Mom defeating cancer in this life are dashed. So we mourn and cry. Our Saturday will turn into days, months, and years. It will feel like an eternity. Even the creation groans as it waits for the sons of God to be revealed.

But Sunday came for the disciples. And Sunday will come for us. Resurrection came, and resurrection will come again. We will experience the resurrection of which Christ was the firstfruits. As the Scriptures teach us, one day in the future, when Christ returns, the veil between heaven and earth will be lifted, and we will see Christ as he really is. Those who have died will be resurrected like Christ, and all of followers of Jesus will be given physical-but-renewed bodies (the redemption of our bodies, as Paul says). God will renew the earth, judge evil, and we will reign with him in the new heaven and new earth forever. And, on that day, Scripture tells us that there will be no more tears, sorrow, or pain; for we will be God’s people, and he will be our God. God does not abandon the world, but enters it and renews it. This is our goal, our final destination: a new heaven and new earth. Saturday will be over, and Sunday will be fully realized.

And, if Christ had remained dead, the passage we heard Mom read from Romans 8 would not be true, and death would separate her from the love of God. But Christ has risen. Today, Mom is with him in Paradise, and, while she suffers no more, Saturday is still very much a reality for us. We wait for Sunday to come. We wait for Christ to come and make all things new. But, during this time, we live in hope for “Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us.”

Sunday will come. We will see Mom once again. If we die before Christ returns, we will meet Mom in Paradise, but, when Christ returns (and hopefully sooner than later), Sunday will come, the followers of Jesus will be resurrected, the earth will be restored, life will come from death, Saturday will be over, and we will live on earth with Mom once again–the beautiful, smiling, red-headed, woman of faith we all loved so much. We will spend time on the beach in Maine again. We will hold her hand again. We will watch baseball with her again. She will listen to my stories again, go to Phil’s soccer games again, watch Jon lead worship again, fight about Jimmy Rollins with Aaron again, play dolls with Giselle and read books to Evan again, exchange laughs at the dinner table with Amanda, Katie, and Arielle again, and sing alongside Dad again.

And because Jesus conquered Saturday, we can be “sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
Saturday seems long, my brothers and sisters, and I’m sure we will have many more Saturdays between now and then. But Sunday came, and Sunday will come again.

Amen.

Share Button

Are We Servants of Christ Jesus?

This morning I spent time in prayer through Lectio Divina on Philippians 1:1-2–

Paul and Timothy, servants of Christ Jesus,
To all God’s holy people in Christ Jesus at Philippi, together with the overseers and deacons:
Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ (NIV).

Mary Magdalene at the feet of Jesus

I was particularly struck by this thought: what does it mean to be “servants” (Greek: “slaves”) of Christ Jesus? A servant is not led by his or her own will but is led by the will of the master.

I’m a control freak. I desire to control future. I desire to control circumstances.

But as a servant, I am called to relinquish that control to be led by my master, Christ Jesus.

As servants, we don’t control–we follow. Are we being led like servants or are we trying to be the master?

Share Button

Maundy Thursday: Too Uncomfortable Rituals

Jesus washing disciples feet

Jesus washing the disciples' feet

Today, on Maundy Thursday, we remember Jesus’ institution of the Eucharist (or Lord’s Supper), and we wash each others’ feet as Jesus did: “Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet” (cf. John 13:1-17). Two beautiful rituals that are set as reminders of Christ’s servant posture.

It is interesting (don’t you think?), though, that both of these rituals make people uncomfortable. Protestants for years (especially in the Free Church tradition) have been uncomfortable with the Eucharist. I don’t always deal with the theological reasons for why because they appear to me (cynically) to be products of the thought: “Well, we don’t want to be like Catholics.” Since it is a “memorial,” we do it once or twice a year, or the first Sunday of each month, or when we feel like it. I know Calvin and Luther would turn over in their graves if they knew we thought like that, but, nonetheless, Protestants have become uncomfortable with the Eucharist (can the uncomfortable feelings toward a violent atonement be a product of remembering his broken body and blood? That’s a question for another day.) .

Also, some people just don’t like feet (however, some people like the butler from Adam Sandler’s Mr. Deeds love feet). It’s uncomfortable for me to take off my shoes and be humble enough to allow someone to wash my feet. It’s even more uncomfortable for the one washing your toe-jammed, stinky feet. Now, if “Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet,” is true. Perhaps, we should just “get over it.”

However, why are we uncomfortable with both? Why does this eating bread and drinking wine/juice make us uncomfortable unlike when we are at an Italian restaurant drinking red wine and eating the bread on the table? Why does exposing my feet make me uncomfortable (it’s not like I am taking off my shirt)? It might just be that it is because both of these deeds take the attention off me and put it on someone else. Christ’s death is about him–his obedience to the Father–and about us–the people of God together in unity taking part in the gift of God. Washing each others’ feet is about us–the people of the Messiah following the ways of the Messiah for the benefit of each other.

It might just be my attitude, but, perhaps, we just need to get over it. Jesus seems to take both of these things pretty seriously. There is something incredibly spiritual and cosmic happening in those moments when we take the bread and dip it into the cup and when we humble ourselves (Peter had trouble with this, remember?) to the point off exposing our crusty toenails to each other.

It might just be–that it’s not about me. I think I’m starting to realize this.

Share Button

An Alternative Reality

Mark 15:39 And when the centurion, who stood there in front of Jesus, saw how he died, he said, “Surely this man was the Son of God!”
40 Some women were watching from a distance. Among them were Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James the younger and of Joseph, and Salome. 41 In Galilee these women had followed him and cared for his needs. Many other women who had come up with him to Jerusalem were also there.

The Roman centurion and the women present highlight again, in Mark’s Gospel, that Jesus’ closest disciples fail to see who he really is. Ben Witherington quoting Ched Meyers says about Mark’s inclusion of these three women,

“The world order is being overturned, from the highest political power to the deepest cultural patterns, and it begins within the new community. It will be these women, the ‘last’ become ‘first,’ who will be entrusted with the resurrection message.’” (Witherington, The Gospel of Mark: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary, p. 401).

Jesus setups up an alternative reality, where the last become first, where one’s gender does not keep him or her out of the inner circle, where its people turn the other cheek, live by the law of loving God and others, and live as true light and salt. It is not Peter, James, and John who are there to the end, but it is Mary Magdalene, Mary, and Salome—women, second-class citizens.

When I was in third grade, I remember my friends making fun of me because my shorts were too short. I must have missed the memo that went around but my friends went from wearing shorts at mid-thigh to down to the knee. I was embarrassed when my friend pointed it out—how different I was to everyone else. My immediate thought was: I need to get new shorts! I was different and that scared me.

But the cross is different. It is the way—the way no one expected—for God to bring about his kingdom. Jesus lived an alternative life and died an alternative death so that the kingdom of God might be seen. John Howard Yoder puts it this way,

“Here at the cross is the man who loves his enemies, the man whose righteousness is greater than that of the Pharisees, who being rich became poor, who gives his robe to those who took his cloak, who prays for those who despitefully use him. The cross is not a detour or a hurdle on the way to the kingdom, nor is it an event on the way to the kingdom; it is the kingdom come” (Yoder, The Politics of Jesus, p. 51).

Jesus on the cross

On the cross, Jesus shows that in order for God to be victorious over sin and death, Jesus must lose this battle. For God to win, Jesus must lose. God is victorious in Jesus’ death. His kingdom, his rule on earth as it is in heaven, has now come. So, in his death, Jesus experiences God’s victory, and we do too. The apostle Paul says in Colossians 1 that God’s fullness dwelt in the person of Jesus and in him God was reconciling all things—in heaven and earth—to himself.
And God wants us to be a part of this, too. He wants us to be people of reconciliation. This is the start of God’s new creation. The old way of doing things, where evil reigns and has a hold on this world, has been eradicated and replaced with the kingdom of God—God’s rule on earth as it is in heaven—and this all begins with Jesus’ death. 2 Corinthians 5 puts it this way,

17 Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here! 18 All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: 19 that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation. 20 We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors…

The Church—the followers of Jesus—is the agent of the new creation. We are its agents. We are its ambassadors. We are its “people of reconciliation.” We are the alternative to the world. We are so because Jesus was so. Jesus heals the leper and is not allowed back in town. He takes the leper’s status. He is an alternative so his followers must also be.

If we are honest the world needs something different to its own way. What does it look like for us to be the alternative reality to the world’s reality? What does it look like to be the alternative to a world that believe in redemptive violence—that killing someone will make everything better? What does it look like to be the alternative to a world where racism happens and sex trafficking happens? What does it look like on a day-to-day basis to be the alternative to the Rat Race? Or consumerism? Or to be the alternative to cheating and backstabbing to get ahead? What does it look like to be the alternative to gossip? Or apathy? Or cyncisim?

Jesus has set up his alternative reality, which is God’s alternative reality. The alternative reality to the world looks like the cross. It looks like the Son of God dying to save Israel and the world. It looks like forgiveness. It looks like the end of exile. It looks like a man wrongly accused. It looks like the King of the Jews mocked and laughed at. But surely this man, Jesus, is the Son of God, who was abandoned and judged for the sake of the world so that we might live an alternative reality for the sake of the world.

May you be different. May you be the alternative reality. And may we live the life of the cross and see God’s kingdom come.

Share Button

Jesus: Silent Before Pilate

Jesus & Pilate

Jesus & Pilate

Silence is awkward. We don’t really do well with silence, do we? We are so used to talking. We are so used to being around other people. We are so used to having the TV on while we listening to Pandora on our laptops. Silence is just plain awkward. So, I have to say, when I approach the story of Jesus’ trial before Pilate, his silence is awkward. He doesn’t say anything about the false accusations. He’s awkwardly…silent. In fact, in my one red-letter Bible, I noticed that in Mark 15:1-15, only four words are in red. In verse two, Pilate asks Jesus if he is the king of the Jews, and Jesus says, “You have said so.” Jesus is awkwardly silent before Pilate.

Pilate is concerned that Jesus would claim to be the King of the Jews. After all, that’s Herod’s position. So, Pilate could have Jesus flogged for that, but crucifixion seems a little extreme. So, he asks Jesus, “Aren’t you going to answer? Give me a reason to let you go, and I will.” “But Jesus still made no reply, and Pilate was amazed.”

So, Pilate, not wanting to give the chief priests what they want, pits Jesus against a rebel Barabbas, thinking surely the people will choose Jesus. That’s like choosing between Osama bin Laden and Mother Teresa. It’s not rocket science. But they choose Barabbas. So, what else is Pilate supposed to do, but have Jesus flogged and handed over to be crucified? Jesus is awkwardly silent and now his silence has gotten him killed.

So, then, we are confronted with Jesus’ silence. Why is Jesus silent? Most certainly, he knows that Pilate can’t convict him of death; flogging, yes, but crucifixion? Unlikely.

But the more I look at it…Jesus is more confidently silent than awkwardly. Jesus does not fear death. He knows that he has been given a vocation by God to be the light of the world, as Israel’s King, to be for Israel what they have failed be, to take the judgment for that failure on himself. He is silent because he knows that death cannot stop God’s desire for the world. And he believes that somehow his own death will bring about that desire. Jesus knows that in order for Israel to be what she is supposed to be, in order for God to bring about what he desires for his people and the world, he must die. Resurrection cannot happen without dying first. Or, as Jesus says earlier in Mark, “For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me and for the gospel will save it” (Mk. 8:35).

Jesus is not silent because he doesn’t know what to say. He is silent because he knows his vocation as Israel’s King. He is silent because exile must end and sins must be forgiven. Nothing can get in the way, not even him. Jesus’ silence shows the world that dying is the way to true life. Jesus knows who he is. He knows God’s plan for his life and mission, and that ends with Jesus dying. May we have the same resolve, and may God give you the same clarity in your life.

Share Button

God’s Will for Your Life

Mark 3:31 Then Jesus’ mother and brothers arrived. Standing outside, they sent someone in to call him. 32 A crowd was sitting around him, and they told him, “Your mother and brothers are outside looking for you.”

33 “Who are my mother and my brothers?” he asked.

34 Then he looked at those seated in a circle around him and said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! 35 Whoever does God’s will is my brother and sister and mother.”

“How do I know God’s will for my life?”

I’ve been posed with this question more than once before. (I guess people know I love theology and am a pastor so they think I have my finger on God’s pulse so they come and ask me.) Many want to know what they should do after college, or what car to buy, or where to serve at church. “I just want to do God’s will.” This is a fine request. In fact, so do I–I want to do God’s will, too. But…I’m not always sure what it is.

Then it hit me when I was reading this passage. Jesus is talking to a crowd when his mom shows up. You know, Mom…the one who spent hours upon hours in labor with you, risking her very life to push you out of her body–that Mom. Some poor soul gets to bear the news to Jesus, to which he expected more-or-less from Jesus, “Hey everyone, my family’s outside. Hold on. I’ll be right back.” But, no, Jesus turns to those around him–”These guys are my family. Anyone who does God’s will is my family.” Doing God’s will makes you part of Jesus’ family–that’s hefty. So, we’d like to know what that means, right?

In the Gospels, Jesus brings in God’s kingdom and reshapes what it means to be part of Israel, the people of God, around himself. He forgives people by his own authority instead of having them go to the Temple for that. He spends time at the Sermon on the Mount to lay out what the people of God look like–peaceable, humble, pure in heart, persecuted for righteousness sake. He claims he is the fulfillment of the Torah. He claims to be the Temple, then destroys it through his crucifixion. Those who do these things are part of “true Israel,” God’s covenant people, Jesus’ family. God’s kingdom is coming in Jesus–repent and believe the good news.

If in Mark 3 doing God’s will makes one a member of Jesus’ family, it would appear that “to follow God’s will” is to be part of “true Israel” (a common desire in first century Judaism). What does it mean to be true Israel? For Jesus, it means being holy, set apart living out the values of God’s kingdom. love God, love your neighbor, be a peacemaker, be humble, pure in heart. Thus, the will of God is not an individualistic outlook toward the rest of life (i.e., what’s God’s will for my life–take the job at the bank or go to the mission field?). The emphasis appears to be on holiness, of living in light of Jesus as God’s-kingdom-bringer, and, when Jesus is bringing in the kingdom, it looks like the Sermon on the Mount, looks like putting others before yourself, giving up your life, carrying your cross.

So, what’s God’s will for your life? It’s introspective, not extrospective. How can I bring in the kingdom of God? Seek holiness, live out kingdom values–”It is God’s will that you should be sanctified” (1 Ths. 4:3); “give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus” (5:18); “For it is God’s will that by doing good you should silence the ignorant talk of foolish people” (1 Pt. 2:15). Seems pretty obvious to me then.

How does this change your outlook on what’s God’s will for your life?

Share Button

How Should I Teach the Bible to My Children?

If you’re like me, “How should I teach the Bible to my children?” is a question you’ve more than just mulled over. I’ve tried and have struggled with how to teach my children the Bible. I tried the cover-to-cover approach, but lost their interest somewhere in Exodus. I also tried reading them Psalms and the Gospels. However, it never really “clicked.” I am very cynical of Bible curriculum, since they are usually overly simplistic and are nothing like how people study Scripture. With this being said, I was more than excited to be offered a chance to review Olive Branch Books’ Telling God’s Story curriculum when I heard it was shaped by biblical scholar Dr. Peter Enns (who I am fond of). The curriculum entails three books:

  1. Parents Guide

    Parents Guide: this is the “owner’s manual” for the curriculum. Peter Enns helps provide a framework for how to read the Bible and teach it to children. Enns’ notices that there is a significant gap between how we teach children to read the Bible and how the Bible is studied when they approach college. (Read excerpt here).

  2. Instructor Text & Teaching Guide: Telling God’s Story Year 1: Meeting Jesus is written by Peter Enns for grades 1-4 and starts with the Gospels. It is Enns’ belief that the point of Scripture is Jesus and thus we should start there with our children. There are 52 lessons for 52 weeks of the year. The sections are split up in 8 different parts surrounding the life, teaching, death, and resurrection of Jesus.
  3. Student Guide & Activity Pages: The Instructor Text & Teaching Guide is complemented by this activity book which provides corresponding activities (music, craft, art history, coloring, cooking activities) to each lesson.

My goal in reviewing this is to try 5 lessons on my 3 year old daughter and blog about it here. I will also provide a review of each pieces of the curriculum. My thought is, if a 3 year old can follow the lessons, a first grader will definitely be able to do so. I have recently taken over the children’s ministry at our church, and, if I find the curriculum valuable, I will be implementing it there as well and will encourage you to do so, too. So, keep checking back, or follow me on Twitter for updates.

I want to thank Justin Moore of Olive Branch Books for approaching me and giving me the opportunity to review this curriculum. I am looking forward to it!

Share Button

What Happens in Norway, Doesn’t Stay in Norway

By know, you should already know that Norway was subjected to a terrorist attack (both a bombing and a mass slaughtering). But what most shocking to many people is the terrorist’s religion was not Islam but, according to the terrorist, Christian. Anders Behring Breivik, 32, killed numerous individuals in the name of Christianity in his opposition to the “colonization” of Europe by Muslims.

I admit. I was shocked to hear the terrorist’s claim that he’s a Christian. I think most people realize that such terrorism is an anomaly in Christianity (see Is ‘Christian fundamentalist’ label correct for Norway terror suspect?). Although Christians do not always live lovingly and peacefully, Christianity is a religion of love and peace. As a Christian, I know this is the case, and I condemn the actions of Breivik.

I’m not here to challenge the fundamental claims of Christianity or Islam, but I want to challenge you with this question: why do many Christians dismiss Breivik’s claim but discount claims (from Muslims) that Islam is not a religion of violence?

Let’s be honest. The original speculation was that the terrorist attack was done by Islamic jihadists, and, if it stayed that way, we would probably think to ourselves, “Yeah. That doesn’t surprise me.” But I’ve heard Christians insist, “The Koran encourages violence and terrorism.” Does it? If someone said that about the Bible (and many have), wouldn’t you disagree?

I haven’t read the Koran at length, and I am under-researched in Islam; but I think it’s time for Christians to give up the idea (that is very present) that “Muslims are terrorists” when we see sadly that all religions have extremists. Christianity included! What happened in Norway, doesn’t stay there. The effects of this should hit home in every Christian. How are we viewing Islam? How do we view the Bible and Christianity? Timothy McVeigh and Anders Behring Breivik do not represent Christianity. So, why do we presume Al Qaeda represents Islam?

Share Button

Pre-Release Review of Francis Chan’s “Erasing Hell”

Erasing Hell by Francis Chan

"Erasing Hell" by Francis Chan

I was honored to receive a pre-published copy of Francis Chan’s (and Preston Sprinke’s) soon-to-be-released book called Erasing Hell: what God said about eternity, and the things we made up from its publisher David Cook. To be quite honest, I’ve never read anything by Francis Chan, but I know he’s extremely popular in evangelical circles for his book Crazy Love. Thus, I was excited when I was asked to review Erasing Hell (release date: July 5).

If you’ve been paying attention, Rob Bell’s most recent book Love Wins has sparked a great amount of controversy but, more importantly, a great amount of conversation around, particularly, the topic of hell (quite frankly, evangelicals should have had these discussions ten years ago but, alas, here we are). Francis Chan, assisted by Preston Sprinkle, has now entered the conversation with his book Erasing Hell. It is my desire to give you enough of the book to whet your appetite to read it but, also, provide you with my critique.

What I liked: Francis Chan has a great amount of exegesis of the biblical text along with extra-biblical material in order to describe what the Jewish people during Jesus’ time believed about hell. One of my greatest frustrations with Love Wins was the lack of references and extended exegesis. This is not a fault of Erasing Hell.

Chan explains that Jesus grew up in a Jewish culture that believed the following about hell:

1. Hell is a place of punishment after judgment.
2. Hell is described in imagery of fire and darkness, where people lament.
3. Hell is a place of annihilation or never-ending punishment (p. 50).

Jesus and his followers, basically, fall in line with these viewpoints. Francis Chan (and don’t forget Preston Sprinkle) does well to build this argument.

Francis Chan

Francis Chan

In the appendix of FAQ’s, Chan addresses the question, “Are the images of fire, darkness, and worms to be understood literally” (p. 153)? Francis Chan, after explaining how Scripture mixes imagery of darkness and fire (i.e., light) for hell, says, “Given the widespread use of fire as a metaphor in Scripture, I find it best to take these images nonliterally” (emphasis mine), and, concerning the details of torment (i.e., worms, gnashing of teeth, etc.), he says, “So while the passages examined in this book are clear about hell as a real place where the wicked will be tormented, the Bible does not seem to tell us exactly what that torment will entail” (p. 155; emphasis mine).

I credit Francis Chan (and, oh yeah, Preston Sprinkle) for both Erasing Hell’s exegesis as well as rejecting the tendency to take metaphors literally.

What I disliked: Outside of his treatment of some of Rob Bell’s arguments (e.g., Bell’s “hell on earth,” p. 48) and framing Origen’s heresy as a matter of universalism (p. 24), I have one major dislike in Erasing Hell.

One of my friends once said to me, “There’s a difference between theology and apologetics. Theology, you seek to learn new things about God. Apologetics, you seek to confirm what you already believe.” What I most disliked about Erasing Hell is that (I believe) Chan was doing apologetics—confirming what he already believed. Although Chan claims to be allowing Scripture to change his viewpoints (emphasized in the book and pre-release video), I have trouble believing this. For instance, Chan interprets the division of the sheep and the goats in Matthew 25:31-45, “Believers are awarded everlasting life, while unbelievers are awarded everlasting punishment” (p. 75), and, then later describes the sheep as “believers in Jesus” and the goats as “unbelievers” (p. 82). But does Matthew 25 actually say the sheep are believers in Jesus and the goats as unbelievers? Not really. In fact, the judgment in Matthew 25 (along with most, if not all, New Testament judgment passages), is based on works, not belief. In my opinion, Chan is reading his already-formulated, evangelical position back onto Matthew 25.

Overall: Erasing Hell is an excellent book for those seeking better articulate a position on hell. Chan’s humble approach is necessary in the conversation, and I applaud his position of hell as being after judgment and hell-imagery as metaphors (I know the latter will not make literalists happy but, really, what does?). Unfortunately, Chan’s exegesis and the writing style in Erasing Hell often read like a research paper, and this possibly could be lost on most laity, which is problematic for the evangelical conversation around hell. For instance, my 15-year-old brother is reading Rob Bell’s book Love Wins. I will offer Erasing Hell to him, but, unfortunately, unlike Love Wins, most of it will be “over his head.” I credit Chan for his exegesis and his use of ancient texts, but I doubt most people will resonate with this approach. It’s not that I want Bell’s Love Wins to win the day (in my opinion, Bell’s views are a little too loose). I’d rather the conversation move forward with both Bell’s and Chan’s (and Sprinkle’s) viewpoints.

I would recommend Erasing Hell as a sparring partner to Love Wins. Although it might be “over the head” of many, I hope Erasing Hell‘s approach will resonate with enough people for the betterment of evangelicalism in the future.

Share Button

Is looking for the world to end Christian?

May 21, 2011 approaches

May 21, 2011 approaches

As May 21, 2011 (the date Harold Camping and followers predict will be the end of the world) approaches, a question popped up in my head: “Is looking for the world to end Christian?” Is it a Christian ideal? Should we take part in looking ahead into the future for an apocalyptic end of the great, late planet earth? Should I look for clues in the newspaper for the end of the world? Is it Christian?

I’m not sure it is.

I understand living in light of Christ’s return but to look for the end might be a distraction to mission. I actually see no missional value to it. First, it often creates fear. I am a firm advocate that fear is not a Christian value. Although fear temporarily motivates people, eventually it wears off or creates more fear. If I fear that my father will beat me, it might make me act better for a time, but, eventually, it creates a home that constantly feels unsafe and more fear enters in. Fear is detriment to mission. Imagine if Jim Elliot feared the Waodani people or feared the end of his life, how could he ever make an impact?

Second, it creates people who “are so heavenly minded they are of no earthly good.” If the disciples kept looking up at the skies, Acts 2-28 would have never been written, and Acts would be smaller than Philemon. Third, Jesus, in his humanity, said even he doesn’t know the day or the hour (cf. Matthew 24:36). I know many evangelicals have created a platform on the end of the world, but I don’t see Jesus or the apostles doing that. It seems to me that they were too concerned with mission now. If I told you the President would be visiting some day but I don’t know when, you could either stay home and do nothing, or you could live your life and wait for him to stop by and grab a cup of coffee with you.

Let me clarify: living in light of Christ’s return is different than looking for the world to end. The first creates a sense of urgency for mission; the latter spends too much time looking at the newspaper. So, I don’t think looking for the world to end is Christian. What do you think?

Share Button
Related Posts with Thumbnails