[This is part VIII of a multi-part series on Rob Bell’s book, Love Wins. Note: Chapter 4 has been broken up into four parts. Chapter 4, part I can be found here and part II can be found here.]
The other issue I have with Bell here about the talk of restoration, renewal, and if you will, “second chances,” is that gives people no real need to come to Jesus. If all things will be restored in the end anyway, what does it matter if I murder someone I don’t like? Even if I get fried in the electric chair, I still eventually go to heaven maybe after a brief punishment for my sins.
Although hell is an unlikable place to be or to think about (if you take it seriously), the purpose of it is for judgment. When a criminal is deemed guilty in a court of law and sentenced to life in prison, he is sent to jail until death. Hell is the jail that never ends.
But let’s take a step back. And we’ve got to follow Bell’s suppositions (maybe? he is careful to never outright say he believes these things) about what ultimately brings God glory in the end: restoration, reconciliation, and renewal.
Think of a terrible, gruesome time during the 20th century. I’ll give you a hint of where I’m going with this: think of a specific dictator who murdered tens of millions of people. There are at least three you can choose from.
1 . . .
2 . . .
This is kind of like an annoying email forward now, isn’t it?
3.
I’ll choose Hitler since Stalin and Tse-Tung (Zedong) don’t seem to strike the same kind of terror into Westerners’ hearts.
Adolf Hitler is estimated to be responsible for at least 12 million murders during World War II. When Hitler shot himself in the head on April 30, 1945, his soul plunged into eternity.
Now, tell me:do you think it brings God more glory to simply excuse such heinous and irresponsible actions and allow Hitler into heaven on the basis of restoration and reconciliation or does it bring God more glory to judge Hitler and punish him for the atrocities he committed while he was on this earth? Because remember, he was never tormented in the way that he tormented so many others (not just the Jewish and the Polish but anyone who either opposed him or didn’t fit his ideal Aryan race).
Maybe I’m a cold, heartless bitch, but I want God to make Hitler pay for the things that he never had to pay for on earth. It’s a little disappointing to think that Hitler could toy with the lives of 12 million people and after death still be reconciled to God after maybe a “season” in hell.
God is God, and yes, He could totally restore Adolf Hitler to himself in the era of restoration to come, but I just don’t see humans (who would have exacted the harshest sentences possible on Hitler before executing him) being more lenient than God.
Then Bell says things that make me wonder, Does this jive with scripture?
“To be clear, again, an untold number of serious disciples of Jesus across hundreds of years have assumed, affirmed, and trusted that no one can resist God’s pursuit forever, because God’s love will eventually melt even the hardest of hearts.”
Maybe. But again, it doesn’t necessarily mean that it remains that way forever. I think specifically of Pharaoh who had a rather hard heart against the people of Israel who wanted to be freed and even “repented” (!) of his temporarily “melted” heart (after a series of wearying plagues) and decided to go after them as they made their way out of Egypt. The Bible gives no indication that Pharaoh ever repented of his re-hardened heart.
“Could God say to someone truly humbled, broken, and desperate for reconciliation, ‘Sorry, too late’? Many have refused to accept the scenario in which somebody is pounding on the door, apologizing, repenting, and asking God to be let in, only to hear God say through the keyhole: ‘Door’s locked. Sorry. If you have been here earlier, I could have done something. But now, it’s too late.’
As it’s written in 2 Timothy 2, God ‘cannot disown himself.'”
These many who have refused need to reread the Parable of the Ten Virgins in Matthew 25:1-13. Not that I like the idea of a door being shut permanently, but if we’re going off of scripture, we have to seriously consider what it says.
“At the center of the Christian tradition since the first church have been a number who insist that history is not tragic, hell is not forever, and love, in the end, wins and all will be reconciled to God.”
And in Christianity, there are some people who choose not to directly align themselves with views they believe so that they may not be tied directly with these specific beliefs therefore they speak of themselves in generalities so that it is almost impossible to pin them down with what they believe.
[This is part VI of a multi-part series on Rob Bell’s book, Love Wins. Note: Chapter 4 has been broken up into four parts. Chapter 4, part II can be found here.]
Bell starts off this chapter with actual statements from church websites:
“The unsaved will be separated forever from God in hell.”
“Those who don’t believe in Jesus will be sent to eternal punishment in hell.”
“The unsaved dead will be committed to an eternal conscious punishment.”
Then Bell notes what I’m assuming he considers a paradox:
“Yet on these very same websites are extensive affirmations of the goodness and greatness of God, proclamations and statements of beliefs about a God
who is
‘mighty,’
‘powerful,’
‘loving,’
‘unchanging,’
‘sovereign,’
‘full of grace and mercy,’
and “all-knowing.'”
Bell seems to pit these statements as either/or as though they contradict one another. God can’t be all of this good stuff and then do all this seemingly bad stuff that these websites claim. But the Old Testament God was a wrathful, violent (yes, I said it) God who also possessed immense mercy and love. When he brought judgment, it wasn’t because He did it out of spite or was a temperamental woman suffering from PMS; He would send out repeated warnings for repentance before executing judgment. There is justice for wrongdoing, and Bell seems to overlook that God is not only a loving parent but a fair and just judge. Later on, he writes:
“I point out these parallel claims:
that God is mighty, powerful, and “in control”
and that billions of people will spend forever apart from this God, who is their creator,
even though it’s written in the Bible that
‘God wants all people to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth’ (1 Tim. 2)
So does God get what God wants?
How great is God?
Great enough to achieve what God sets out to do,
or kind of great
medium great
great most of the time,
but in this,
the fate of billions of people,
not totally great.
Sort of great.
A little great. …
Will all people be saved,
or will God not get what God wants?
Does this magnificent, mighty, marvelous God fail in the end?”
First of all, why does God’s greatness need to be defined solely by our view of what great should look like? Just like the Bible verse that says that God will give us the desires of our heart… well, no. I haven’t gotten all the desires of my heart. God changes my heart to make my desires reflect his. I can’t inject my view of what my desires should look like and allege that God has failed me on this. In this, I think Bell’s view of God and His greatness is actually too small.
Bell continues on with scripture verses that support God’s affirmations of love and determination to save everyone. He quotes Paul in Philippians 2:
“‘Every knee should bow . . . and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is LORD, to the glory of God the Father.’
All people.
The nations.
Every person, every knee, every tongue.”
Agreed. But those actions may not necessarily be done willingly.
[This is part V of a multi-part series on Rob Bell’s book, Love Wins. Note: Chapter 3 on Hell has been broken up into two parts due to excessive length. You can find Part I on this chapter here.]
Image from Jesus-is-lord.com
Bell retells the parable of the rich man and Lazarus because it the most vivid description of hell we get from Jesus. Bell points out that the rich man is able to communicate from hell to Abraham in heaven. After ignoring the poor man Lazarus in his earthly life, the rich man in death wants Lazarus to serve him. He tells Abraham that he wants Lazarus to fetch him water then says that he wants Lazarus to warn his family of what’s in store for them in the afterlife. Bell’s perspective of this is insightful:
“The rich man wants Lazarus to serve him.
In their previous life, the rich man saw himself as better than Lazarus, and now, in hell, the rich man still sees himself as above Lazarus. It’s no wonder Abraham says there’s a chasm that can’t be crossed. The chasm is the rich man’s heart! It hasn’t changed, even in death and torment and agony. He’s still clinging to the old hierarchy. He still thinks he’s better.”
Bell expounds on this some more:
“Jesus teaches again and again that the gospel is about a death that leads to life. It’s a pattern, a truth, a reality that comes from losing your life and then finding it. This rich man Jesus tells us about hasn’t yet figured that out. He’s still clinging to his ego, his status, his pride—he’s unable to let go of the world he’s constructed, which puts him on the top and Lazarus on the bottom, the world in which Lazarus is serving him.
He’s dead, but he hasn’t died.
He’s in Hades, but he still hasn’t died the kind of death that actually brings life.
He’s alive in death, but in profound torment, because he’s living with the realities of not properly dying the kind of death that actually leads a person into the only kind of life that’s worth living.”
I don’t disagree with Bell at all. A few pages later, Bell says brilliantly:
“There is hell now,
and there is hell later,
and Jesus teaches us to take both seriously.”
With this statement, Bell does not deny the existence of hell “in this age or the age to come.” However, I do take issue with a few statements prior to this, mainly because they start to muddy the waters, making his belief in hell seem unclear.
When Bell talks about the rich man, he says that the rich man “hasn’t yet figured out… that the gospel is about a death that leads to life.”
Yet is an important word. Its implication is that even though something hasn’t happened, there’s a chance it will. I believe Bell is a man who chooses his words carefully so when he says that the rich man hasn’t yet figured things out, it’s because if he does (in due time), only then he’ll be able to live “the only kind of life that’s worth living.” Bell doesn’t give any indication that the rich man is forever shut out and utterly without hope. In fact, through Bell’s recounting of this parable, the dead rich man has more hope of life than I’ve ever heard before.
From pages 75-79, I infer that Bell thinks people can get a second chance after death if their heart changes. When Bell says that the “chasm… can’t be crossed [because] the chasm is the rich man’s heart,” I get the impression that if the rich man’s heart changes, then the chasm can be crossed.
So far, I’ve concluded that Bell believes hell exists (on earth and in the afterlife) and that people really do go there. It also seems that Bell says people can choose hell because they cling to an “old hierarchy” of belief but if that belief changes, they can move from death unto life even in the afterlife. Statements later on in the chapter give me the impression that Bell believes judgment for hell isn’t final, isn’t forever, and that God is a god of second and third and multiple chances until we get it right.)
“What we see in Jesus’s story about the rich man and Lazarus is an affirmation that there are all kinds of hells, because there are all kinds of ways to resist and reject all that is good and true and beautiful and human now, in this life, and so we can only assume we can do the same in the next.”
Is your head swimming yet? Because mine is.
Bell goes on to reference Ezekiel 16 in showing that Sodom and Gomorrah’s fortunes will eventually be restored and quotes Jesus in Matthew 10 in which he says, “It will be more bearable for Sodom and Gomorrah on the day of judgment than for you.”
Bell overall concludes that if there’s still hope for a place like Sodom and Gomorrah (widely thought of as being condemned forever) that no longer exists, then there’s hope for everyone outside of these towns.
“Failure, we see again and again, isn’t final,
judgment has a point,
and consequences are for correction.”
I don’t know how Bell lines up this thinking with Hebrews 9:27 which says “it is appointed for man to die once, and after that comes judgment.” Hence, the book raises a question for me that the author never addresses.
Bell begins to wrap Chapter 3 up by speaking of restoration and quotes how God over and over in the Old Testament, especially among the minor prophets, speaks of the restoration of His people. (Note: there is no wider context given among the 10 verses on restoration that Bell lists.)
Bell ends Chapter 3 with this summed-up definition:
“To summarize, then, we need a loaded, volatile, adequately violent, dramatic, serious word to describe the very real consequences we experience when we reject the good and true and beautiful life that God has for us. We need a word that refers to the big, wide, terrible evil that comes from the secrets hidden deep within our heats all the way to the massive, society-wide collapse and chaos that comes when we fail to live in God’s world God’s way.
And for that,
the word ‘hell’ works quite well.
Let’s keep it.”
Chapter 3 proved to be a rather challenging chapter on a variety of levels. It forced me to read critically and question nearly everything Bell said, especially since many things weren’t referenced. I’ve already challenged some of Bell’s statements in order to, perhaps, paint a fuller view of the issue, but really, I really just touched the tip of the iceberg.
On page 80, Bell uses Jesus’ statement from Matthew 26 in which he says those who “draw the sword will die by the sword” is used to depict Jesus a strictly non-violent, pacifist leader.
“To respond to violence with more violence, according to Jesus, is not the way of God.”
But in Luke 22, Jesus encourages his disciples to sell their cloaks and buy swords. When the disciples said they had two swords, Jesus replied, “It is enough.” (v. 38) If Jesus was extremely non-violent, he would’ve discouraged the disciples from even arming themselves. Even though Jesus worked through non-violent means, it doesn’t mean that his entire philosophy is non-violent. I think Jesus really embodies Ecclesiastes 3, but on this issue, his philosophy was probably more along the lines of verse 8’s “a time for war and a time for peace.” To paint Jesus as a total pacifist would be misleading.
Or perhaps let’s also tackle page 89 in which Bell says:
“‘Satan,’ according to Paul, is actually used by God for God’s transforming purposes. Whoever and whatever he means by that word ‘Satan,’ there is something redemptive and renewing that will occur when Hymenaeus and Alexander are ‘handed over.'”
Whoever and whatever? Of a lot of the things in this book, I have a serious problem with Bell flippantly referring to Satan as “whoever” and “whatever.” And it makes me extremely uncomfortable that a pastor of a Christian church (emergent, it may be) puts Satan’s name in quotes as if he’s not real, doesn’t exist, or is a figure of speech for something humans are not sure about. Having read Brian McLaren’s A New Kind of Christianity, this kind of talk gets dangerously close to how McLaren refers to evil.
Toward the end of the chapter, Bell pulls out the Greek dictionary again to translate words better, and I’m frustrated and annoyed. It’s not just Bell who does this though; many pastors do this. It’s as if they’re saying “the English translations we have aren’t good enough so let me translate this a little bit better for you.” Really, of the 25+ English translations out there, you couldn’t find one suitable to reference so you had to retranslate it for us yourself? Do people who don’t have access to the Greek worse off because they’re reading something that hasn’t been translated to its best extent in the English language? (Oh, this kind of stuff gets my rankles up.)
On the flip side, Bell sometimes says things that challenge my conceptions of how I traditionally view Christian teaching. If I can’t find anything scripturally that contradicts Bell, I pause to consider the truth in what he says. (Mind you, I will not take an opposing view against Bell simply to be belligerent.) I quote pages 82-83 because I think his view his striking:
“Many people in our world have only ever heard hell talked about as the place reserved for those who are ‘out,’ who don’t believe, who haven’t ‘joined the church.’ Christians talking about people who aren’t Christians going to hell when they die because they aren’t . . . Christians. People who don’t believe the right things.
But in reading all of the passages in which Jesus uses the word ‘hell,’ what is so striking is that people believing the right or wrong things isn’t his point. He’s often not talking about ‘beliefs’ as we think of them—he’s talking about anger and lust and indifference. He’s talking about the state of his listeners’ hearts, about how they conduct themselves, how they interact with their neighbors, about the kind of effect they have on the world.
Jesus did not use hell to try and compel ‘heathens’ and ‘pagans’ to believe in God, so they wouldn’t burn when they die. He talked about hell to very religious people to warn them about the consequences of straying from their God-given calling and identity to show the world God’s love.
This is not to say that hell is not a pointed, urgent warning or that it isn’t intimately connected with what we actually do believe, but simply to point out that Jesus talked about hell to the people who considered themselves ‘in,’ warning them that their hard hearts were putting their ‘in-ness’ at risk, reminding them that whatever ‘chosen-ness’ or ‘election’ meant, whatever special standing they believed they had with God was always, only, ever about their being the kind of transformed, generous, loving people through whom God could show the world what God’s love looks like in flesh and blood.”
Overall, Chapter 3 was a challenging read. There was no way to walk away from it without thinking one of three things:
My beliefs and preconceptions on hell have been reinforced as a result of reading this chapter.
My beliefs and preconceptions on hell have changed as a result of reading this chapter. (Even if it’s ever so slightly.)
My beliefs and preconceptions on hell have not changed as a result of reading this chapter but have given me a different perspective that I had never considered before.
I fall into category 3. I certainly don’t agree with Bell on a lot of things, but he makes many good points about not overlooking the hell here and now in favor of the hell later. Christians would do well to heed some of his warnings.
[This is part IV of a multi-part series on Rob Bell’s book, Love Wins. Note: Chapter 3 on Hell has been broken up into two parts due to excessive length.]
Rob Bell reiterates the typical conceptions of hell to start with:
So he goes on to show his readers every instance of the word “hell” in the Bible. He tackles the Hebrew scriptures which make references to Sheol, “a dark, mysterious, murky place people go when they die” (p. 65) and “a few references to the realm of the dead.” Bell concludes that “affirmations of the power of God over all of life and death” and “God’s presence and involvement in whatever it is that happens after a person dies” are consistently found in the Old Testament scriptures “yet very little is given in the way of actual details regarding individual destinies.” He wraps up this section by saying the Old Testament “isn’t very articulated or defined on what happens after a person dies” (p. 67).
“Sheol, death, and the grave in the consciousness of the Hebrew writers are all a bit vague and ‘underwordly.’ For whatever reasons, the precise details of who goes where, when, how, with what, and for how long simply aren’t things the Hebrew writers were terribly concerned with.”
I still have no arguments with Bell so far. But then, he tackles the New Testament and things start to get interesting.
“The actual word ‘hell’ is used roughly twelve times in the New Testament, almost exclusively by Jesus himself. The Greek word that gets translated as ‘hell’ in English is the word ‘Gehenna.’ Ge means ‘valley,’ and henna means ‘Hinnom.’ Gehenna, the Valley of Hinnom, was an actual valley on the south and west side of the city of Jerusalem.
Gehenna, in Jesus’s day, was the city dump.
People tossed their garbage and waste into this valley. There was a fire there, burning constantly to consume the trash. Wild animals fought over scraps of food along the edges of the heap. When they fought, their teeth would make a gnashing sound. Gehenna was the place with the gnashing of teeth, where the fire never went out.”
I had never heard of Gehenna translated in this way. (Again, my frustration with the lack of references.) So I had to put the book down and go searching to verify everything on my own. And what I discovered surprised me. Continue reading “Love Wins Analysis: Chapter 3: Hell (Part I)”→
[This is part III of a multi-part series on Rob Bell’s book, Love Wins.]
“First,
heaven.”
Image from onceuponacross.blogspot.com
“I show you this painting because, as surreal as it is, the fundamental story it tells about heaven—that it is somewhere else—is the story that many people know to be the Christian story.”
The painting above isn’t the black-and-white replica that Bell has in his book but it’s pretty close and retained the same ideas.
Bell’s point in Chapter 2 is to challenge the reader’s conceptions about heaven and all that they’ve heard or think (or know) to be true. He references the parable of the rich man who wants to know how to get eternal life. According to Bell:
“When the man asks about getting ‘eternal life,’ he isn’t asking about how to go to heaven when he dies. This wasn’t a concern for the man or Jesus. This is why Jesus doesn’t tell people how to ‘go to heaven.’ It wasn’t what Jesus came to do.
Heaven, for Jesus, was deeply connected with what he called ‘this age’ and ‘the age to come.'”
Bell’s references to “this age” and “the age to come” become foundational to Love Wins:
“We might call them ‘eras’ or ‘periods of time’:
this age—the one we’re living in—and the age to come.
Another way of saying ‘life in the age to come’ in Jesus’s day was to say ‘eternal life.’ In Hebrew the phrase is olam habah.
What must I do to inherit olam habah?
This age,
and the one to come,
the one after this one.”
Bell defines ‘age’ further:
“Now, the English word ‘age’ here is the word aion in New Testament Greek. Aion has multiple meanings… One meaning of aion refers to a period of time, as in ‘The spirit of the age’ or ‘They were gone for ages.’ When we use the word ‘age’ like this, we are referring less to a precise measurement of time, like an hour or a day or a year, and more to a period or era of time. This is crucial to our understanding of the word aion, because it doesn’t mean ‘forever’ as we think of forever. When we say ‘forever,’ what we are generally referring to is something that will go on, 365-day year, never ceasing in the endless unfolding of segmented, measurable units of time, like a clock that never stops ticking. That’s not this word. The first meaning of this word aion refers to a period of time with a beginning and an end.
So according to Jesus there is this age, this aion—
the one they, and we, are living in—
and then a coming age,
also called ‘the world to come’
or simply ‘eternal life.'”
[This is a multi-part series on Rob Bell’s book, Love Wins.]
I could say that I read 198 pages of a mind-bending Q & A & Q book. If Love Winswere a movie, it would be Inception.
Great script. Lots of confusion. And there’s never-ending speculation about how it ends.
I suppose I should warn readers that Love Wins isn’t my first experience with Rob Bell’s books. I read Velvet Elvis upon the recommendation of a friend and loved it so much that I bought my own copy. I hope to reread Velvet Elvis again next year, but I remember wanting to give it 5 stars because it was that good.
Love Wins… not so much. But not for the reasons you’d think or the ones that have been commonly cited.
Does Bell deny the existence of hell? Eh, kind of, not really.
Does Bell assert that Jesus is the only way to heaven? Well… yeah.
Is Bell a universalist? Eh… yes and no. That’s a loaded question that requires explanation and is never explained quite clearly (to me anyway).
There are a ton of blogs that are currently bashing Rob Bell, labeling him as a universalist, bewailing that he’s walked away from the orthodox Christian faith, and written him off as a heretic.
I see Rob Bell being used of God in unimaginable ways to His honor and His glory.
Bell has jumpstarted the conversation on heaven and hell—who gets to those places and who doesn’t. His recent book, Love Wins, and interviews have challenged Christians to coherently defend what they believe (I Peter 3:15) on this issue. It used to be easy to say “Those who believe in the gospel of Christ go to heaven; those who don’t go to hell.” But now Christians have been challenged to put an attitude of love behind this statement or whatever they believe about hell, and that’s not so easy.
I’m not sure I agree with Mr. Bell on many aspects of this issue. (I’ll reserve definitive judgment until I complete my reading of his recent book.) I believe Scripture is clear that hell exists in some form: whether it be the literal torment of hellfire and brimstone or simply eternal separation from God (which would be a colloquial description of “hell” compared to heaven in God’s presence) as exemplified through C.S. Lewis’s The Great Divorce. Perhaps Mr. Bell believes this too.
Mr. Bell’s aims, however orthodox Christians may interpret them, are noble. (Some may use the terminology “sincerely wrong” here.) Bell, with Love Wins, is attempting to bridge that nasty gap between Christians who seem to say “Nanny nanny boo boo, I’m going to heaven, and you’re going to burn in a lake of fire” and unbelievers who think “even if I live a good life, remain a law-abiding citizen, and don’t blaspheme God, I still go to hell? That’s just not fair.”
It’s not. And the truth is, God isn’t fair.
But Christians need to be sensitive to the fact that the doctrine of hell is an offensive doctrine and any explanation of it should come from an attitude of love and not one of haughtiness. This is what Mr. Bell is attempting to do. I give him tons of credit for the attempt. Whether the execution comes off well (in my opinion) will remain to be seen.
McLaren starts out this section by—what seems to me—as apologies for God’s atrocities:
Now, I am in no way interested in excusing or defending divine smiting, genocidal conquest, or global quasi-geocidal flooding; I’m just saying that even if these are the crimes of Elohim/LORD, they are far less serious crimes than those of Theos. (p. 99)
Then McLaren starts in on explaining how God isn’t actually violent but since people see God as violent, they act out how they see God. (Conversely, if we all saw God as loving, we’d all be loving to one another.) He uses an analogy of math concepts revealed in textbooks during the course of a person’s schooling as an example of how humans understand God: at first we learn very basic concepts since we are so immature but then we learn very complex concepts because humans have matured in their understanding of God. And as icing on the cake, McLaren takes a cheap (and distasteful) potshot at Christians who eat meat, subscribe to a just-war theory, and use fossil fuels. (For someone who talks a lot about being humble and mild-mannered, his snark and disdain for Christians who think differently than him is quite apparent in this book. I’ll admit, however, I am guilty of the same toward him now.)
The more I read McLaren’s theories, the more I cringe. The God of the Bible is loving, merciful, gracious, and slow to anger. But the God of the Bible is also a just, righteous, and jealous God. He is not McLaren’s caricature of a bloodthirsty “Theos” but McLaren’s happy-go-lucky description of Elohim is neither the full picture. McLaren often attacks Christians in his book, painting them as fundamental extremists or right-wing Republicans. It’s like saying all Democrats are treehuggers. It’s tough to be open-minded to other people’s opinions or “new” ideas when they brand you with a scarlet letter just for identifying yourself with the same religious group. I am neither a fundamental extremist nor a right-wing Republican yet McLaren often makes me feel as though my view of the Bible makes me part of that group. He couldn’t be more wrong.
I’m easily getting tired of McLaren now. He worries that Christians will use the story of the flood (Noah) to justify genocide [insert eyeroll here] then comes up with this:
Yes, I find a character named God who sends a flood that destroys all humanity except for Noah’s family, but that’s trivial compared to a deity who tortures the greater part of humanity forever in infinite eternal conscious torment, three words that need to be read slowly and thoughtfully to feel their full import. (Endnote: For this reason, I would grimly prefer atheism to be true than for the Greco-Roman Theos narrative to be true. And for this reason, I joyfully celebrate the narrative centered in Jesus as a better alternative to both.) (p. 99, 272)
I’m excited about reading through A New Kind of Christianity. I have an open mind about this and am totally willing to transform my Christian faith and live it in a new way with only one caveat: it must remain true to the Bible. If McLaren argues something that goes against what the Bible says, I’ll point it out. We know very little about Jesus apart from the Bible. And we would know nothing about Jesus’ teachings without the Bible. So holding McLaren and his questions and responses to a Biblical standard is neither unreasonable nor unfair since he is talking about the the Christian faith.
In Part II of McLaren’s book, he attempts to address the kind of authority the Bible should have in people’s lives. Considering the Bible is the standard I’m holding him to, I wanted to see how he’d address this issue. First, he addresses how the Bible has been misused. He lists three problem areas:
1. Scientific Mess
Fundamentalism… again and again paints itself into a corner by requiring the Bible be treated as a divinely dictated science textbook providing us true information in all areas of life, including when and how the earth was created, what the shape of the earth is, what revolves around what in space, and so on. (p. 68)
He goes on to say Christians constantly end up “on the wrong side of truth” because of this and talks about how Christians who use the Bible as their scientific standard were wrong in Galileo’s time (heliocentric theory), were wrong in Darwin’s time (evolution), and are even wrong now (climate change/”ecological crisis”). [Note: In a sense, I agree with McLaren—the Bible was never designed as a science textbook and to treat it as such, I think is wrong. I believe what the Bible says on how everything was created but beyond that, the Bible doesn’t get into scientific specifics and to try to deduce things that aren’t there isn’t wise.]
2. Ethical quandaries
The Bible, when taken as an ethical rule book, offers no clear categories for many of our most significant and vexing socioethical quandaries. We find no explicit mention, for example, of abortion, capitalism, communism, socialism, schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, obsessive-compulsive disorder, autism, systemic racism, affirmative action, human rights, nationalism, sexual orientation, pornography, global climate change, imprisonment, extinction of species, energy efficiency, environmental sustainability, genetic engineering, space travel, and so on—not to mention nuclear weapons, biological warfare, and just-war theory. (p. 68-69)
He goes on to say that Christians have misused the Bible to support unethical positions such as segregation and preventing interracial relationships. [Note: The Bible is not a socioethical rulebook nor I do believe it is intended for that purpose. However, the Bible is very much a moral book—it gives people basic rules to live, clearly saying what should and should not be done. Moral standards influence ethical decisions, hence, why some people refuse to tell even a “white” lie (because God says “do not bear false witness”).]
3. Trouble relating to peace
Basically, McLaren paints a broad brush of Christians generally being more hawkish and too eager for war. [Note: I’d actually agree with him here.]
We must find new approaches to our sacred texts, approaches that sanely, critically, and fairly engage with honest scientific inquiry, approaches that help us derive constructive and relevant guidance in dealing with pressing personal and social problems, and approaches that lead us in the sweet pathway of peacemaking rather than the broad, deep rut of mutually assured destruction. (p. 70)
In an attempt to show how Christians have radically misused the Bible to support unethical positions, McLaren takes his readers through a historical account of slavery quoting sections of pro-slavery books defending the practice of slavery. While my heritage is not directly tied to American slavery, I found the quotes McLaren used to be painful to read. One or two passages might have sufficed to prove his point, but he devotes more than FIVE pages to pro-slavery writing—something I found needlessly excessive. Why does McLaren have to search so hard to justify his points by quoting idiots? I’m sure there were abolitionist books that quoted the Bible too but that would weaken McLaren’s argument so there’s none of that here.
Then in Chapter 8, readers discover how McLaren really views the Bible:
At every turn, we approach the biblical text as if it were an annotated code instead of what it actually is: a portable library of poems, prophecies, histories, fables, parables, letters, sage sayings, quarrels, and so on. (p. 79)
There can be no argument with McLaren here—he’s made up his mind about how he views the Bible. To him, the Bible is nothing more than a beautiful piece of literary text. He thinks that the Bible should not be seen as an inflexible constitution or rule of law but rather as “a library of culture and community.” (p. 81) Continue reading “Food for thought #5: A New Kind of Christianity”→
“It wasn’t a phenomenon in the Black community, I don’t think. … It is a middle-class/upper-middle-class, White departure from orthodoxy.” — John Piper
People not directly involved in the emergent movement likely think that it’s something that doesn’t affect them. Not true.
The emergent movement and its connection to postmodern philosophy is having a vital effect on the way Christians and non-Christians alike think.
I, for one, find myself constantly questioning things in Christianity. I’m very open and honest about my struggles in this respect. I used to live under the veil of pretending to have it all together. I’d rather err on the side of being too broken than being too pretentious. (“A broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou will not despise.” —Psalm 51:17)
Questioning one’s faith is typical within emerging Christianity. Question and reasoning can be helpful to the health of someone’s Christian life. It challenges a person’s faith and forces them to understand, reconcile, and know what he or she believes.
Where emergent Christianity takes things too far is that it can get too deconstructivist and undermine things that, as a believer, should not be undermined (eg, the deity of Christ, the necessity of his finished work on the cross). Those things should not persist as constant questions but rather, should be resolved and the topic should move on.
Emergent Christianity also tends to go in circles on questions. Those in the “conversation” contend that questions are healthy. Yes, to a point. Questions should be asked in the quest for answers. To simply throw questions out for the sake of engaging in constant conversation is ultimately fruitless because it accomplishes nothing.
Rob Bell, in Velvet Elvis, offers the Jewish culture of answering a question with a question as proof that it’s okay to go around and around with questions. I counter that answering a question with a question in Jewish culture is meant to be an end within itself. The answer (in the form of a question) is not meant to lead to endless conversation but as a way of stating a point of finality while leading the inquisitor to muse further on the answer in his or her own mind.
So when it comes to questioning things within Christianity, I have accepted this as part of postmodern and emerging thought. Where I stop, however, is that I seek answers and definitions to my questions.
Along with postmodern thought is the idea that everything is relative. This idea of relativity can be found in the emergent movement. However, within the framework of Biblical Christianity, there are absolutes. (I believe absolutes exist outside of the Bible but I’ll stick to my topic of Christianity.) Since Jesus was absolute and authoritative with many of this statements (“I am the way, the truth, and the life, no man comes to the Father except by me” —John 14:6), there is no room for relativity. Again, believers of the Bible should not be questioning whether Jesus really meant what he said. While Jesus was figurative with many of his statements, he was also very literal. To take his literal meanings, distort them, and teach those distortions as valid Christian thought is dangerous.
Please don’t misunderstand me. Most believers go through times in their lives when they questions the basics and fundamentals of Christianity. The problem is when people in leadership begin teaching these doubts, assisting in undermining Christianity in their own congregations. If a person chooses not to believe in Christianity, questions it, and tries to point out its weaknesses, that’s one thing. To do the same while claiming to be a believer and teach others to do the same is wrong.
So while I understand there are many areas in life that are full of grey, Christians should not deny that some things are plainly black and white (figuratively speaking). Emergent Christians can seek to blur the lines, giving the illusion that black and white is or can be grey.
Emerging church excels, however, in taking Christianity to the 21st century. I get frustrated when I hear Christians knocking other Christians’ choice of worship. A common complaint I’ve heard is that churches have become a type of theater: things are done with video, multimedia slides, and lighting effects. These things are dismissed as unnecessary and purposeless. I view these things as a valid and appropriate means of reaching postmodern American society. While some people may enjoy that “old time religion,” for others, it does not reach them. I am with Paul when he says “I became all things to all men that I might by all means save some.” (I Corinthians 9:22) There is nothing sinful in using video, slides, overhead projectors, and the like. Simply because it’s not a person’s style of worship doesn’t mean it’s wrong.
The argument along with that is that good gospel preaching can stand on its own and there is no need for visual anything. While that may be true, visuals are a supplement, not a replacement. I am baffled by Christians who are willing to embrace technology in every other aspect of their lives but insist on keeping it out of the church. To reach a 21st century generation, Christianity cannot continue to function in 19th century mode. It is possible to adapt to the culture without sinning in order to evangelize. This is the area where the emerging church has challenged the ecclesial institution and can help make it better. Some Christians call it becoming “worldly,” however, I see it as taking Christ’s message and making it practical and relevant.
And that’s how the emerging church challenges me: how do I make 1st century concepts and teachings from a Middle Eastern culture practical and relevant 20 centuries later in a postmodern American society? It’s a question I don’t have an answer to but hope to discover that answer someday. (Even if the answer comes in the form of a question.)
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Note: I typed this entire post on my BlackBerry so please excuse any spelling or grammatical errors.
There’s a lot of criticism of the emergent stream. And much of it is valid. If taken too far, the emergent movement could possess the ability to completely deconstruct Christianity in an attempt to demolish it.
But on the flip side, the emergent movement can be used to challenge the missional arm of the church in a postmodern culture. I like the way Driscoll put it in a Desiring God video I recently watched. In essence, Driscoll asked what missions would look like if Christianity were foreign to the U.S.? How would foreigners assimilate American culture and adopt the tools to best reach those who do not know God or Jesus Christ in a mission field? Because Christianity has been so pervasive and long-standing in American culture, American Christians take their backyard missions field for granted and assume that current American culture will bow to its old way of doing things when in reality, American Christians would never expect that in traveling to any other nation. The emerging movement enables American Christians to see the United States with fresh eyes from a missional standpoint.
The Emergent Church has also served as a rubber band for those who have escaped from the sharp talons of legalistic Christianity. The movement has enabled many Christians to retain certain core truths but make their faith flexible and pliable—when exercised, this faith can be tested and stretched without breaking and completely falling apart. Bell, in Velvet Elvis, refers to legalistic faith as a brick wall: pull one brick out and the rest of the wall crumbles because its support hinges on that one brick.
I’ve found emergent influence in dress. Older, more traditional Christians will complain that they can’t tell the difference between a young believer and a young non-believer because they simply look and act too much alike. Emergent influence in dress assists in blurring this distinction. Emerging Christians tend to dress down, and as some Christians complain, “look like the world.” Emerging Christians will defend their choice of dress as part of cultural relevancy. Here’s a snapshot of Driscoll wearing a shirt of Jesus as a DJ while preaching.
There’s emergent influence in contemporary Christian art. Since I’m not an artist, I can’t define it very well but a look at the Mars Hill website (Rob Bell’s church in Grand Rapids, Michigan) will tell you all you need to know. I’ve provided a current snapshot of the website. (I don’t know if it changes.)
Is the emergent movement harmful to long-term Christianity?
Perhaps I’m an optimist in this area but I believe God is so much bigger than any one movement. If Judeo-Christianity has weathered all sorts of sects, migrations, movements, and off-shoots in the past 5,000+ years, it is likely to weather this one. God has promised to sustain and protect his church—not any one particular denomination but his “holy, catholic (universal) church.” The Emergent Church does not threaten or thwart God’s plans nor will it move God’s plans along any faster than He wants it to. The emergent movement can only be assessed in a Christian’s personal walk with God. How does that affect him or her? Has the emergent conversation added to or detracted from a person’s belief in the triune God? For some, the emergent movement has served to draw people closer to God in an effort to more fully “glorify Him and enjoy Him forever.” For others, the emergent movement is a distraction—a nuisance that must be eliminated in order to preserve the organized institution of Christianity. And there is yet another group who finds that while the emergent movement possesses many flaws, many of the questions and challenges it raises can prompt individuals to change their lives—and the lives of those around them—to better glorify, love, and serve God and others. This last group is the group I most identify with. To use another worn-out cliché, I am not willing to throw the baby out with the bathwater. (Even if the bathwater is very, very stinky and murky at times.) If that was the case, I would have walked away from Christianity the moment I left legalism.
Emerging evangelicals: not trying to change Christianity, just trying to make it more applicable and more relevant
House church evangelicals: Get rid of big church and meet in small groups like homes and coffee shops
Emerging reformers: Believe in the reformed distinctives but try to make the church culturally relevant
Emergent liberals: Calls everything into question including Christian orthodoxy without wanting to arrive at any answers
Note that Driscoll only uses the word emergent in connection the voices associated with the Emergent Village. This is the group Driscoll has publicly distanced himself from.
How does the emergent movement affect me?
The influence of the emergent church is pervasive in mainstream American Christianity. The main venue many of these emergent voices get their message out—apart from Internet-based distribution—is through their books. Don Miller is known for his New York Times bestseller Blue Like Jazz, Rob Bell has written a thought-provoking book titled Velvet Elvis, and Brian McLaren has recently released a book called A New Kind of Christianity that has unleashed a furor of criticism. While I find that many pastors eschew the emergent movement, many Christians are drawn to it. Perhaps it’s because the emergent movement has succeeded in making itself culturally relevant and practically applicable to those who do not hold theology degrees or work in Christian ministry for a living. Christians and non-Christians alike are taking notice of these works and this movement, even if they can’t quite define it.
Some time last year, my best friend [forever] (BFF) read Rob Bell’s book, Velvet Elvis, and insisted that I needed to read it. She promised it would help challenge my conventional notions and that it had helped her break some of the legalistic mindset she’d carried with her since graduating from a college that centered around a legalistic (and Pharisaical) lifestyle. I reluctantly borrowed her copy with a promise to read it only because she was my BFF. Here’s a short analysis I wrote last May:
When I was going through my “spiritual crisis” recently, my best friend handed me this book. She said, “You have to read it; it’ll change your outlook on Christianity.”I glanced down and read the title: Velvet Elvis. With a name like Velvet Elvis, how could this book be any good?
I opened the book up and began reading skeptically and with a critical eye. Bell starts out by discussing how he came a cross a paining of Velvet Elvis and then delves into this discussion of how there’s a big movement in history—something greater than ourselves happening. Standard fare from Rob Bell. After reading Bell’s response on Twittering the gospel, I was disillusioned with his outlook on Christianity. His answer seemed so vague… so unsatisfactory. His book couldn’t possibly offer anything better. Yet I made a promise to my friend and continued to push through the book.
To my surprise, Bell’s book isn’t as shallow as I’d thought.
While he repeats the rhetoric about a movement in history greater than ourselves, he explained Bible passages in a way that I’d never understood before. He draws heavily on Jewish culture to shed new light on Bible passages that once seemed so mundane. Never before had I known that the reference to “yoke” in Matthew 11:30 had deeper meaning than what oxen carry. And I never understood that the disciples functioned as Jesus’ talmidim. Bell’s writing style is clear but his message actually runs deep. …
Bell does seem to have a good grasp on the gospel but presents it in quite a different light. He acknowledges Jesus as the Son of God and “the way, the truth, and the life”–the only way to get to heaven. He also posits that truth can be found outside of the Bible. And since God is truth then anywhere truth is found, there God is. He uses Paul citing one of the Cretan prophets as an example of this.
He says that some Christians see their faith as a brick wall–pull out one brick and the structure of their faith begins to fall apart. He says that we need to be flexible. If something in our faith is wrong or proven as false, will we stray from the faith altogether?
A major problem I do have with this book is that nothing is absolute. He encourages Christians to question everything, including his book. Take nothing at face value. In fact, he asserts that God likes it when we ask questions. Turns out in Jewish culture, when rabbis ask students a question, students respond with… a question. According to Bell, straight answers are not standard. I don’t agree with this. There are absolutes in life and Bell doesn’t acknowledge or accept that.
While I’m not a fan of how Bell runs his church or the way he presents theology, Velvet Elvis is a book worth reading. I initially said I wouldn’t recommend it; I’ve since changed my mind. I’ve ordered my own copy and plan on rereading it, highlighting it, and marking it up. He makes some very many good points and I’m pleasantly surprised at how much I like this book. I’m afraid to pick up Sex God or his latest Jesus Wants to Save Christians but Velvet Elvis isn’t a bad read at all.
I have since returned my BFF’s copy to her and have my own copy with plans to re-read and highlight it. Velvet Elvis impacted me that much. And Velvet Elvis is indeed reflective of emergent conversation even if I wasn’t fully aware of it nearly a year ago.
From what I can gather, the emergent movement is part of a conversation that asks how Christians can minister in a postmodern (largely, secular) world.
Postmodernism developed as a reaction to the modernist movement. According to Wikipedia’s entry on the modernist movement, the term modernism “encompasses the activities and output of those who felt the ‘traditional’ forms of art, architecture, literature, religious faith, social organization and daily life were becoming outdated in the new economic, social and political conditions of an emerging fully industrialized world.” Interestingly, the wiki entry also notes that modernism rejected “the existence of a compassionate, all-powerful Creator.”
So postmodernism gets past all that modernist stuff, right? Not necessarily. In fact, some people see modernism and postmodernism as two sides of the same coin. Here are two definitions:
(1) A style and concept in the arts characterized by distrust of theories and ideologies and by the drawing of attention to conventions. (The Compact Oxford English Dictionary)
(2) Of, relating to, or being any of various movements in reaction to modernism that are typically characterized by a return to traditional materials and forms (as in architecture) or by ironic self-reference and absurdity (as in literature), or
of, relating to, or being a theory that involves a radical reappraisal of modern assumptions about culture, identity, history, or language. (Merriam-Webster)
Merriam-Webster’s latter definition (as opposed to its former) seems most appropriate to when referring to the Emergent Church.
Postmodern philosophy is skeptical or nihilistic toward many of the values and assumptions of philosophy that derive from modernity, such as humanity having an essence which distinguishes humans from animals, or the assumption that one form of government is demonstrably better than another.
The wiki entry adds:
Postmodern philosophy has strong relations with the substantial literature of critical theory.
When you boil it down, the essence of postmodernism and its philosophy is rooted in criticism and critique. Question everything; take nothing at face value. Postmodern thought also moves away fromsuperiority and towardequality (eg, humans aren’t superior to animals, capitalism isn’t better than communism). Postmodern thought has its place in society (eg, whites are not superior to blacks) but like all things, can be bad if taken too far.
Many people eschew the label “postmodern Christianity” because the idea of postmodernity has almost no determinate meaning and, in the United States, serves largely to symbolize an emotionally charged battle of ideologies.
Today’s Emergent Church stresses a friendly conversation and an amiable exchange of ideas. But the identical foundations of secular postmodernism and the Emergent Church cannot be overlooked.
Criticism and critique. For example, consider how the Emergent Church began: by a group of friends who felt “disillusioned and disenfranchised” by 20th century Christianity. In other words, they became critical and sought to challenge the status quo. (Which I don’t have an issue with.) The critique of 20th century Christianity, however, never rose above just that—a critique. The critiques merely evolved into conversation, which leaders of the emergent stream want to keep amiable so as not to offend anybody within all sects and denominations of the Christian realm. My issue here is that constant talk doesn’t rectify wrongs or things that need to desperately be addressed in 21st century Christianity. There is a time for talk and a time for action. (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8)
No determinate meaning. Like postmodernism, the emergent movement also has “no determinate meaning.” As I mentioned earlier, its leaders want it kept that way. One will find varying definitions of the Emergent Church (aka the emergent movement aka the Emerging Church aka the emergent stream, etc.) all over the Internet. I can’t help but think of Challies’s earlier reference of trying to nail Jello to the wall when trying to define the Emergent Church. My attempt here is only as skewed as my personal view. Perhaps the Emergent Church leaders also intended that as well—a lack of objectivity to define the emergent movement only fuels further discussion and conversation.
Deconstructionism. Also very much like postmodernism, the Emergent Church seeks deconstruction. Where postmodernism was deconstructivist in the sense that it sought to undermine the foundations of the subjects it would challenge, the Emergent Church seeks to deconstruct the organized and institutionalized church. The three main areas of deconstruction the Emergent Church addresses are:
modern Christian worship,
modern evangelism, and
the nature of modern Christian community
Followers of the emergent movement can be found worshiping with others in homes rather than a church building and talking openly about their faith with others in a non-traditional setting such as a bar.
(L-R) Rob Bell, Brian McLaren, and Donald Miller
Leading emergent voices also stress that Christianity is just one big story that’s unfolding. Bell spoke about this in his books Velvet Elvis and Jesus Wants to Save Christians and discussed it in an April 2009 Christianity Today interview. Brian McLaren, during the Washington National Cathedral’s Sunday Forum in February 2008, declared that “the Christian faith is [best] understood as a story by a postmodern generation that sees itself as part of the developing storyline,” according to the Christian Post. McLaren also went on to say that postmodern believers viewed Bible stories as part of a “bigger picture and larger story.” And finally, a close friend of mine has been challenged by Don Miller’s latest book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, to write a better story in her own life. A story, I can only assume, that is a small part of a bigger picture within the large framework of Christianity.
“To borrow a tired cliche… is much like trying to nail Jello to the wall.”
Indeed. In a Google search for “emergent church” or “emerging church,” does not yield anything concrete. The terms “Emergent Church,” “emerging church,” “emergent movement,” and “emergent stream” are all used interchangeably by many people to refer to the same thing. (However, a distinction between “emergent” and “emerging” will be noted later.) One will likely stumble across someone’s attempts to define the Emergent Church, usually with a significant bias either for or against. Even the Emerging Church entry in wikipedia contains various citations for “weasel words,” vague phrasing, unverified claims, and lack of references. The Wikipedia entry complaints are actually ironic: the complaints actually perform a great job of describing the emergent movement. I don’t say that necessarily as a criticism. The founders of the emergent movement do not want it to be defined. So for the wiki entry to use weasel words and vague phrasing is the best that any writer of that wikipedia entry can do. There is no clear-cut, textbook definition.
When I speak of the Emergent Church, I refer only to the American aspect of it. (The emergent movement outside of the U.S. is long and varied.) A few core people at the foundation of this movement in the United States are Brian McLaren, Spencer Burke, Doug Pagitt, Rob Bell, Don Miller, and Mark Driscoll. (However, Driscoll has since disassociated himself and his ministry with this movement.) McLaren especially seems to be the driving figure of the Emergent Church and the community website Emergent Village, which loosely defines itself as “a growing, generative friendship among missional Christians seeking to love our world in the Spirit of Jesus Christ.”
Based on the Emergent Village About page, the emergent movement appears to have been born in the late 1990s by a group friends who felt “disillusioned and disenfranchised by the conventional ecclesial institutions of the late 20th century.” By 2001, this group of friends official declared themselves and their beliefs as “emergent.” Here’s a statement from the website explaining why the word emergent was chosen:
In English, the word “emergent” is normally an adjective meaning coming into view, arising from, occurring unexpectedly, requiring immediate action (hence its relation to “emergency”), characterized by evolutionary emergence, or crossing a boundary (as between water and air).
As intended, the Emergent Church is now a burgeoning movement within 21st century Christianity.
The word “conversation” is as foundational to the emergent movement as the word “triage” is to the business world. On various websites I’ve read, in an attempt to gain a better understanding of the Emergent Church, the word conversation is thrown around like water at a baptism. Leaders of the movement stress that it’s all about conversation. (Also note that the leaders of this movement do choose their words carefully.) Here’s Merriam-Webster’s definition of what a conversation is (as it relates to our current usage):
2 a (1) : oral exchange of sentiments, observations, opinions, or ideas
(2) : an instance of such exchange : talk <a quiet conversation>
b : an informal discussion of an issue by representatives of governments, institutions, or groups
c : an exchange similar to conversation
This is exactly what the leaders of the Emergent Church want: an exchange and an informal discussion.
Back in seventh grade, I used to participate in something called “rap sessions.” The point was to air our grievances and discuss any issues weighing on our minds. But nothing was ever resolved. It was simply an outlet for talking. The emergent movement (also referred to as the “emergent stream” to represent the continuous flow of conversation), in essence, is nothing more than just a Christian rap session on a grand scale. We all have our problems with Christianity but the emergent movement allows Christians to simply engage in conversation and air their observations without ever really rectifying any issues that might be plaguing them.
The Emergent Church has also served as a rubber band for those who have escaped from the sharp talons of legalistic Christianity. The movement has enabled many Christians to retain certain core truths but make their faith flexible and pliable—when exercised, this faith can be tested and stretched without breaking and completely falling apart. Bell, in Velvet Elvis, refers to legalistic faith as a brick wall: pull one brick out and the rest of the wall crumbles because its support hinges on that one brick.
This Journey Is My Own 