Thinking-Christianly

It’s fashionable to picture God as portrayed in the Old Testament as a God who delights in showing his wrath, but who is stingy about mercy. But the mercy of God is displayed throughout the Old Testament.

For example, when Moses finishes speaking with God and comes down to meet the people, he discovers that they have already violated the second commandment he holds in his hand. Aaron built an altar in front of a visible representation of God and told the people, “These are your gods, O Israel, who brought you up out of Egypt.” (Exodus 32:4)

At that point God offered Moses the opportunity to begin all over with him, as he had with Noah. Since Moses was a descendant of Abraham, this would not break any of the promises to the patriarch or abrogate God’s promise. Moses urged God not to do that. (I wonder how many frustrating years after that he wished he had chosen otherwise!) But the response of God was mercy. This population who had been immersed in pagan ideas were shown grace and given the opportunity to move forward from there.

The God who finds us in the midst of our folly and foolish ideas continues to demonstrate that same mercy and kindness. He hasn’t changed over the centuries. His ability to deal patiently with a race such as ours is a credit to his longsuffering and patience.

The notion that Christ descended into hell between his death and resurrection makes for great drama. It even appears in the popular song “Lion of Judah.” But it is bad theology. Let’s look at the facts.

Though the phrase “descended into hell” appears in what we call the Apostles’ Creed, that text is not apostolic. The Apostles’ Creed did not come from the followers of Christ. It’s a compilation that grew over centuries, having its roots in such documents as the Old Roman Creed. The Council of Nicaea (325) and Constantinople (381) did not include the phrase. It first appears in the latter half of the fourth century in the creed of the church of Auqileia. So the descent of Christ into hell is nowhere found in the earliest documents of the church.

Some would argue that the Bible proves it anyway. So let’s look at the texts that are cited.

In Matthew 12:40 Jesus compares himself with Jonah. As Jonah spent 3 days in the belly of the whale, so Jesus will spend 3 days in the “heart of the earth.” (NIV) This Greek phrase “heart of the earth” occurs only here in the New Testament. There is no indication in ancient literature that this is a metaphor for hell. The most natural reference is to Jesus burial. To force it to mean “hell” is to define the phrase to fit the argument. It’s circular reasoning to define a phrase to fit the argument that it refers to hell and then claim that it’s proof of the idea.

In Acts 2:27 Peter preaches about Jesus and refers to Psalm 110, which Christ used of himself. Part of the quote states, “you will not abandon me to Hades.” The last word is translated “grave” (NIV) or most common left untranslated and rendered “Hades” (NAS, NJB, NRS). The argument is that this is hell. But the word “Hades” was common for the place of the dead. When you look at the Hebrew parallelism of the quote the reference to death becomes even clearer. Hebrew poetic parallelism essentially says the same thing two different ways. The verse states, “you will not abandon me to the grave, nor will you let your Holy One see decay.” Abandonment to the grave is parallel to decaying. These are two consequences of staying dead. Peter’s point in the sermon is that Jesus was truly dead, but did not stay that way.

Another passage cited is Romans 10:7. The focus of the text is to discourage the idea that the doing of God’s will means to aspire after something that is too difficult. His larger argument is that righteousness comes by faith, but the Jews thought it could come by merit. The text refers to Deuteronomy 30:11-14. Paul changes the reference to “the sea” to “the deep” to make his argument that God does not expect the impossible, but offers a promise through which the impossible (salvation) can be embraced by faith.

1 Peter 3:18-20 is a difficult text. In the context, Peter is drawing our attention to the humiliation and exultation of Christ. The issue here relates to the timing and the meaning of “spirits.” One issue revolves around when Jesus declared this message.

If the spirits in prison are all the unrighteous dead, why refer only to those in the days of Noah? However the passage is interpreted, it must in some way explain why those who lived near the beginning of man’s time on earth are singled out. If the timing is a visit to hell immediately following Christ’s death, then the message would be addressed to more than Noah’s contemporaries.

One approach is to draw a parallel between the ministry of Noah and that of Christ. It sees Jesus (in his Spirit) as active in those ancient days. The message was proclaimed through Noah by the Spirit of Christ. No one believed it. But it proved true. Millennia later, Jesus preached the message in the streets of Jerusalem and it was rejected. But it proved true as well. God was gracious on the wicked as righteous Noah grieved, but salvation finally came, so there was grieving over centuries but God’s righteousness was finally vindicated in Christ. The risen Christ was active and glorified in both dispensations. This views the verse as saying in effect, “‘He went and preached to those who are now spirits in prison when they disobeyed formerly when God’s patience was waiting in the days of Noah.” The focus is on the scope of God’s grace and vindication throughout human history. ‘He went and preached to those who are now spirits in prison when they disobeyed formerly when God’s patience was waiting in the days of Noah.’ See Edmund P. Clowney, The Message of 1 Peter : The Way of the Cross, The Bible speaks today (Downers Grove, Ill.: Inter-Varsity Press, 1988), 162.

Ephesians 4:9-10 state, “(What does “he ascended” mean except that he also descended to the lower, earthly regions? He who descended is the very one who ascended higher than all the heavens, in order to fill the whole universe.)” Some would see a descent into hell here. The context glorifies the resurrected Christ and celebrates his victory. It’s much more natural to see the descent as one from heaven to earth than from heaven to hell. The descent was from the glories of eternal fellowship with the father to the sin wrecked society of man. Paul makes a similar statement in Philippians 2:6-11.

The person who contends that Jesus went to hell must read his position into the texts presented here in order to make his case. He might argue that the verses are ambiguous. They may be in some cases. But in order to prove his point he must add details that are neither part of the flow of the larger context of these verses nor explicit in the text. Collectively, they make the point that Jesus died a real death and was vindicated by a miraculous resurrection. The contention that Jesus carried out some kind of mission to Hell was not in the early teaching of the church and belongs in the realm of unfounded speculation.

Political strategists sometimes fuel jealousy and envy between people in order to rally votes to their candidates and their causes. This thinking assumes that differences in financial status are the result of greed and manipulation. Whoever they define as poor is inherently noble. Whoever they characterize as rich is unquestionably selfish and void of compassion.  “There is no justice for the poor,” they proclaim. “The winners make the rules,” is their cry.

There is some truth in this perspective. Because we are sinners, we are all inclined to put ourselves first and use our resources for selfish ends. Whether it’s a parent in a home, a department manager in a supermarket, or a vice-president at General Motors, the tendency to use a position of influence for selfish ends will always be there.

But the caricature that frequently emerges in American political and social discourse presumes that those with limited power and resources are less tempted to display this selfish tendency. It also tends to justify judgment on people as a class, regardless of their individual behavior. The result is a fueling of class envy that is both distorted and destructive.

In Exodus 23 God presents some guidelines for the Jews who will soon form a nation in the land of Canaan. The balance God brings to this debate is refreshing. Consider two verses:

• Exodus 23:2 “Do not follow the crowd in doing wrong. When you give testimony in a lawsuit, do not pervert justice by siding with the crowd, and do not show favoritism to the poor man in his lawsuit.” (NIV) This text prohibits granting favor to someone because of a lack of social status. The issue is to stay focused on moral behavior and personal responsibility, and this is not trumped by ascribing some kind of judicial favor because of a condition of poverty.
• Exodus 23:6 “Do not deny justice so your poor people in their lawsuits.” (NIV) This verse looks at the other responsibility. Those with fewer means are not to receive less justice because of their social status. They are to be treated individually according to their behavior in their circumstances.

The balance of these two injunctions is typical of the wisdom of God, who thankfully treats all of us as individuals. Though our circumstances and status relative to one another varies, our moral responsibility to God and his truth places each of us under the same standard. We are all fallen beings created in his image. We are wonderful, yet broken. And as we influence social justice God’s way, we are called to avoid manipulative generalizations and stereotypes, and make our application of human justice a reflection of God’s own mind and ways.

It’s common to view fear as something undesirable. Each of us have experienced those moments of dread, and uncertainty when something valuable was at risk. The threat might relate to physical safety, financial loss, rejection, verbal assault, embarrassment, or loss of control.

We combat fear in many ways. We can read books and consult specialists to overcome irrational fears and phobias that are products of our imagination. We manage risk (investing in resources like life insurance, trip planning, or skill building) in order to reduce the uncertainties that can lead to fear. We reprogram our minds—through yoga, motivational materials, or religion—to become more fearless in a sometimes frightening world.

When it comes to Christianity, it’s fashionable to view the fear of God as an archaic Old Testament doctrine. It’s a relic that has no place for the New Testament Christian who understands the love of Christ and the promise of life in him. We quote 1 John 4:18 that assures us, “Perfect love casts out fear.” Or we translate the word “fear” into “deep respect.” We avoid the notion that there is something frightening about God, something that rightfully can make us anxious. He becomes powerful, but tame.

This selective approach ignores the full revelation of the Bible. In 1 Peter 2:17 the Spirit through the apostle tells us “Fear God.” It’s an imperative, not a suggestion. Peter understood the mercy of God, being forgiven for his disavowal of Christ at his arrest. But that did not eradicate the need to fear him.

The eternal gospel preached in Revelation 4:17 includes the command, “Fear God.”

The fear of God is not something that our Father uses to terrify us. It’s actually a tool for godly living. After the revelation of God’s character and demands in the Decalogue (ten commandments) in Exodus 20, the Bible adds, “Do not be afraid. God has come to test you, so that the fear of God will be with you to keep you from sinning.” (Exodus 20:20) The first use of the word “fear” in this text is a verb, the second a noun. The verse describes something we are not to fear and something we are to fear. They are not to fear the natural phenomenon that accompany the revelation (thunder and lightning). They underscore the message but are not precursors to judgment. They are to fear the God who is speaking. But note the byproduct of the fear of God—“to keep you from sinning.”

Sometimes I will not be persuaded to sin because it’s illogical. I know with my mind that sin is wrong and I do it anyway. Sometimes I’m not deterred because sin has consequences. My stubborn nature can decide to accept the consequences or pretend I’m exempt. And I can choose to sin anyway. Exodus 20:20 offers perhaps a better deterrent. It points to my relationship with a God of absolute perfection who hates sin. He fights against it. He will judge it and in some future time exterminate all traces of it. He loves me but he detests any trace of evil. So out of respect for him, and fear too, I have more incentive to battle temptation and win.

We should not be too quick to dismiss this expectation of a holy God.

When someone has no evidence, but finds you guilty, it’s frustrating and demeaning. Some will assume that Christians are judgmental or uncaring because they believe in absolutes. Others may conclude a believer is bigoted if she subscribes to the idea that homosexual behavior or cohabitation violates God’s law.

When you find yourself labeled as coldhearted, backwards, or ignorant (without any evidence), it’s hard to think charitably about your accuser. None of us appreciates the attitude of others who assume we are guilty without proof.

Unfortunately, we sometimes do that same thing to others. It’s not uncommon for us to cast a “guilty” verdict on people in the Bible without any evidence. Maybe it’s part of a tendency to put a white hat or a black hat on all the Bible characters to make things tidy. Maybe it’s a suspicious and judgmental spirit if our age that infects us more than we imagine. Whatever it is, it produces unfair teaching and preaching of the word of God.

Let me give a few examples.

I have heard Joseph criticized because he did not lead his brothers back to Canaan after they were reunited in Egypt. Their slavery was the byproduct of a godless spirit that loved Egypt more than the land of promise. That doesn’t account for God’s words to Abraham in Genesis 15 where God tells the patriarch that his descendents “will be enslaved and mistreated four hundred years.” (Verse 13) The reason God gives for this timetable is not the sin of Joseph or his family, but because “the sin of the Amorites has not yet reached its full measure.” (Verse 16) God was going to extend his grace to the peoples of Canaan 400 more years before sending judgment on them in the form of an occupying Jewish nation. To attribute this to some unnamed sin of Joseph is not good scholarship.

Some have taught that Ruth’s husband Elimelech died as a punishment for going to Moab. The text does not say that. We can second-guess his decision all we want, but the text does not tell us what God thought about it. To convict him of disloyalty to God without evidence is to assume that his death was judicial punishment. But the Bible does not tell us it was.

Jesus responds to that same kind of thinking in Luke 13:1-5 where his questioners assume that because some Galileans had been destroyed by Herod, God was bringing judgment on them.

It would benefit our scholarship and our character to give the real people in the Bible narratives the same grace we would expect of others. Let’s refrain from presuming guilt and judgment where none is present in the text. When people engage in immoral behavior that is specifically condemned in scripture, we can hold them up to the clear moral standard. But in the absence of blatant moral failure, let’s not embellish the narrative in a way that we might have to apologize for on judgment day.  

Most of us have been burned by questions we fail to ask. You buy a product at a bargain price assuming it has a lengthy warranty. It turns out to be only 30 days. You volunteer to drop a friend off at the airport and later find out that he has to be there at 4:30 AM. You buy a used book on line and forget to ask what “good” means. It arrives with all kinds of highlighting and underlining.

Not asking the right question can result in irritation or significant loss. There is one unasked question that can be more catastrophic than all the rest.

In Isaiah chapter 44 the prophet describes the practice of his day where a Jew would use some wood to build a fire, and take another part of the same tree and create an idol. The question they fail to ask is, “Is the thing I worship a real God?” Verse 19 observes, “No one stops to think, no one has the knowledge or understanding to say, ‘Half of it I used for fuel; I even baked bread over its coals, I roasted meat and I ate. Shall I make a detestable thing from what is left? Shall I bow down to a block of wood?’”

The phrase “no one stops to think” is chilling. It points to the fact that often we give our primary allegiance to something which is not God without stopping to question that decision. In America our allegiance is seldom to an inanimate object. We’re more likely to serve a social or political ideal, pursue a symbol of affluence, devote ourselves to success or popularity, chase the thrill of an experience or an encounter (sexual or otherwise) or surrender everything for some piece of the American Dream.

The problem is that we too infrequently ask, “Is the object of my pursuit worth the devotion, reverence, and service I give to it?” It’s not stopping to think that prevents us from seeing the poverty of our choices.

That hard question, though humiliating at times, can stop us in our tracks and assess the investments of time, money, and energy we tend to make that mirror our culture but do not bring us anything of eternal value. Perhaps this is part of what Jesus had in mind when he told the parable of the rich man who was busy building his wealth the day before his unexpected death. Jesus simply asked, “What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul?” 

The gruesome story from Turlock, California is becoming all too familiar: “Police killed a 27-year-old man as he kicked, punched and stomped a toddler to death despite other people’s attempts to stop him on a dark, country road.”

What triggered this deadly assault on a toddler? We’ll never know. But somewhere in the incident the dissatisfaction of the perpetrator demolished the humanity of the child. Before the fatal blows began something else had died—belief in the essential value of the child. The child was not a creature of immeasurable dignity, reflecting the image of the creator of the universe (even in a flawed condition). The child had become an irritation, a problem, a thing to be dealt with through deadly force.

Thankfully, this murderer’s actions are highly atypical of our society in general. But his choice reminds us that every time we diminish the value of man as a special creation of  God, we feed the rationalization that can lead to this kind of dehumanizing of human life. We may be repulsed by the act, but it is the logical outcome of secular materialism carried to its logical conclusion. Defining man as the product of time plus chance plus nothing does not produce a strong counter-argument against this kind of barbarity.

When you think of a social evil, what comes to mind? Assaults, drug addiction, lying on resumes? In some places, the concept of social evil includes people of faith.

Alan Jacobs, in his article, “Too Much Faith in Faith” (Wall Street Journal, 6/6/2008, p. W11) cites a British poll conducted by the Joseph Rowntree Foundation. A majority of those polled indicated that for them religion was a “social evil.”

Several questions come to mind. How large was the majority vote? What did those polled think of when they considered something that was socially evil? What does the word “religion” include in the mind of those who responded to the poll? How were the questions worded? Who was the demographic in the poll?

Despite the fact that some conclusions cannot be drawn without further data, the tidbit from this poll is quite provoking. I’m going to assume that those who responded included radical Islam, as well as the bloody battle between the Catholics and Protestants in Northern Ireland in their definition of “religion.” If that assumption is correct, then those who responded could survey all the evil done in the name of all religions and conclude that the problem is the religion rather than the person who subscribes to any certain religion.

Few people today make a distinction between the teachings of a religion and the behavior of those who claim that religious tradition as their own. It’s easier to be lazy and equate the second with the first. So if I know a Buddhist, Hindu, New Age devotee, or a Baptist who is a liar, a violent person, or a swindler, I can write off that faith system as worthless. But measuring any faith system by its adherents will always surface individuals who display human behavior at its worst.

If someone is going to measure faith by its adherents, it would be best to measure it by those who are devoting themselves to living as consistently as possible to the teachings of that faith. This assessment is more difficult because it requires that the critic understand what the faith teaches. If it teaches someone that it is morally right to lie, murder, or abuse women, then the critic might be justified in calling that belief system into account. If those who live consistently with its teaching display generosity, selflessness, courage, and mercy, then perhaps that system should be applauded rather then denigrated.

Most opinion polls don’t require much thought or reflection, so the odds that we will soon see a serious response to a significant question like the value of competing religions is rather remote. We’re most likely to see more blanket condemnations as secular thinkers look for more excuses to bolster their unhistorical contention that people of religion (especially Christians) are inferior and dangerous. Though properly-applied Christianity has a track record of rescuing cultures from anarchy and moral madness, such things are easily overlooked in pursuit of the agenda which portrays Christianity as one more threat to bliss on earth.

Some wrong ideas are relatively inconsequential. Many years ago a poorly informed teacher told a class I attended that you could tell the difference between a star and a planet in the night sky by applying the dictum, “stars twinkle, planets don’t.” That mistaken notion did not permanently damage any of us in that sixth-grade class.

When it comes to wrong ideas about God, however, the consequences of wrong ideas are massive. Somewhere around 730 BC God sought the attention of the Jews in Israel through the life of Hosea. He made this prophet’s personal tragedy a three dimensional screen play for the people to watch and learn from. Hosea’s wife and her infidelity were parallel to the spiritual status of the people. God wanted them to see the alienation, the grief, and the consequences of their indifference to him.

One of the statements God makes displays a tragic contrast between the heart of God and the heart of the people. In Hosea 7:13, God says, “I long to redeem them but they speak lies against me.” In this verse God expresses his desire to act on their behalf. He is eager to reconcile the people to himself. They refuse to cooperate in this process because they embrace and propagate misinformation about him.

The degree to which we have a distorted view of God is the degree to which our response to him will be skewed, and our mistrust inflated. Like our culture, we will recoil from him not because he is unworthy of our loyalty and our love, but because the caricature we’ve created is unappealing.

The Old Testament prophets directed most of their messages at the people of Israel. God did not ignore addressing neighboring nations (as Nahum, Jonah, and Amos demonstrate), but he focused on the Jewish community that were the custodians of the promises and oracles of the living God.

Unfortunately, “religious” people are often the most difficult ones to persuade, since their religious trappings tend to insulate them from seriously considering their true relationship to God.

Isaiah chapter 5 depicts the superficiality of faith in the prophet’s day (around 700 BC). In verse 12 he describes a culture addicted to entertainment. “They have harps and lyres at their banquets,” he notes, “but they have no regard for the deeds of the Lord, no respect for the work of his hands.” In that ancient culture there was music and celebration, but God had become largely irrelevant. He had become a relic of the past unrelated to the affairs of the day. They gave themselves credit for their circumstances, and no longer believed that God was active in the events of the day.

When you look at the billions spent on entertainment, the collective anticipation at attending sensational public activities, and the diminishing of the role of God in the modern world, the parallels are obvious.

What does God foresee for such a culture? Verse 13 adds, “Therefore my people will go into exile for lack of understanding; their men of rank will die of hunger and their masses will be parched with thirst.” Because they evict God from their lives and refuse to admit the central role he must play in their culture, they put themselves in jeopardy. Their lack of understanding will put them in a place of defeat, and deportation. The abundance they’ve taken for granted will be replaced with famine.

Regardless of its popularity, self-sufficiency digs its own grave. It invites God to demonstrate to us that we are dependent creatures who cannot thrive for long apart from his mercy. One wonders if the challenges the West faces today might not be a reflection of this principle.