How do you sell God in the 21st Century? More Heaven; less Hell

I came across this article in today's Guardian online. The piece recounts a conservative Evangelical journey away from their faith. It outlines the story of somebody growing up in an Evangelical baptist family, going to Moody Bible Institute (a conservative, Evangelical seminary), engaged in evangelism and yet becoming increasingly disaffected with theodicy and theology of Hell. In many ways, it is a common story of an Evangelical unable to square what they see in scripture, the apologetic arguments and theology they are taught and their own internal sense of what is just, fair, moral and right. Though lengthy, the article is certainly worth reading.

Nevertheless, the article's emphasis isn't really autobiographical. The writer isn't ultimately trying to share how they became disaffected with Evangelicalism (though they do share that and do so - in my view - in a way that still exhibits fondness for Evangelicals if not for Evangelicalism nor Evangelical theology.) Rather, the writer is trying to address why the perception of Hell - and certainly the formulation of the doctrine of Hell at a popular level - has changed over time.

The article contends that 30 years ago - whilst the writer was growing up in Evangelical baptist circles - Hell was taught in, what would now be considered, an anachronistic way. It was all fire and brimstone, eternal torment and attempts to scare folk into Heaven. It notes a shift in emphasis, focusing on the preaching and writing of Bill Hybels, toward less of a focus on Hell itself. Certainly when Hell was mentioned, it was brought into focus by empathetic appeals to sin and evil existing in all people. The writer then considers how this has changed again, focusing on the writing of Rob Bell. It argues Hell is now either (a) something to be experienced here on Earth; or, (b) a purgatorial refinement leading to ultimate, universal reconciliation and the end of Hell itself.

The article misses the mark in various respects. Principally, it argues the way to avoid Hell, according to protestant Evangelical theology, is to say the sinner's prayer. It states "For contemporary evangelicals, it’s solely this act that separates the sheep from the goats." Though there are undoubtedly people who hold this view, most at a personal level, it is not mainstream Evangelical belief. 

Paul Washer, a well-known conservative Evangelical couldn't be clearer when he states "We call men to repent and believe. And if they repent and believe, truly in that moment they are saved in that moment. But the evidence is more than just the sincerity of a prayer. It is a continuation of the working of God in their life through sanctification." He has also argued "We have taken that truth [that if you truly believe and you confess Christ, even if it costs you your life, you will be saved]… we have taken that beautiful truth and reduced it down to, “If you pray a little prayer before a bunch of people in a church in America, you can be guaranteed you were saved if you think you were sincere.”"

Denny Burk - Professor of Biblical Studies at Boyce College (Southern Baptist seminary) and associate pastor at Kenwood Baptist Church - has published this comment by David Platt - president of the International Missions Board, the mission agency of the Southern Baptists (a conservative Evangelical denomination). Platt states:

Do I believe it is “wrong” for someone to pray a “prayer of salvation”? Certainly not. Calling out to God in prayer with repentant faith is fundamental to being saved (Romans 10:9-10). Yet as I pastor a local church and serve alongside pastors of other local churches, I sense reasonably serious concern about the relatively large number of baptisms in our churches that are “re-baptisms”—often representing people who thought they were saved because they prayed a certain prayer, but they lacked a biblical understanding of salvation and were in reality not saved. This, in addition to a rampant easy believism that marks cultural Christianity in our context (and in other parts of the world), leads me to urge us, as we go to all people among all nations with the good news of God’s love, to be both evangelistically zealous and biblically clear at the same time (Matthew 28:18-20).

Plenty of other conservative Evangelicals can be found stating categorically that nobody is saved simply because they prayed a "sinner's prayer". Though a prayer of repentance may be an outward expression of the repentance that has already taken place in the heart of a believer, it is this ongoing state of repentance and trust in Christ's atoning work that saves.

However, the article is helpful in pinpointing where the boundaries of belief lie. It quite rightly sees the arguments advanced by Rob Bell as demonstrating "the potential pitfalls of the church’s desire to distance itself too quickly from fire and brimstone." As the writer comments:

Bell claims to address the exact theological problem that motivated me to leave the faith, but rather than offer a new understanding of the doctrine, he offers up a Disneyesque vision of humanity, one that is wholly incompatible with the language biblical authors use to speak about good and evil. Along with hell, the new evangelical leaders threaten to jettison the very notion of human depravity – a fundamental Christian truth upon which the entire salvation narrative hinges.

The issues for the writer were plain enough. The Bible teaches the doctrine of Hell. An internal sense of that which is just and merciful couldn't accept the doctrine of Hell. One either accepts the teaching of the Bible or rejects it. Bell's attempts at "disneyfying" the doctrine seemed too hollow and shallow for credible belief.

What the article helpfully states in the clearest terms is the following:

what made church such a powerful experience for me as a child and a young adult was that it was the one place where my own faults and failings were recognised and accepted, where people referred to themselves affectionately as “sinners”, where it was taken as a given that the person standing in the pews beside you was morally fallible, but still you held hands and lifted your voice with hers as you worshipped in song. This camaraderie came from a collective understanding of evil – a belief that each person harboured within them a potential for sin and deserved, despite it, divine grace. It’s this notion of shared fallibility that lent Hybels’s 9/11 sermon its power, as he suggested that his own longing for revenge was only a difference of degree – not of kind – from the acts of the terrorists.

Without a clear and defined understanding of the doctrine of Hell the message of the gospel is liable to be lost. No amount of rebranding is going to help. For a reformulation of the doctrine of Hell means the gospel, the message of salvation in Christ, ultimately loses its power. No Hell soon leads to a watered down, or non-existent, statement of sin. No sin means no need of salvation. No need of salvation means no need of Christ. No need of Christ makes Jesus a pitiable character indeed.

Efforts to rebrand Hell, or to push it to the sidelines, are misguided at best. That is not to say our preaching must be fire and brimstone every week. Nor is it to say Hell must be the centre of all our gospel presentations. It is to say, that to pretend it doesn't exist or to speak of it in such ways as it seems little more than trifling irritant - like a small wart on God's created order - is to undermine the gospel.

A right view of sin - to see it as God sees it - lends credence to the existence of Hell. To do anything other than present Hell as scripture presents it damages our understanding of sin, salvation and the work of Christ. Whatever else the article made clear, it is apparent that changes to the doctrine of Hell were ultimately unconvincing and - despite the title of the piece - more Heaven and less Hell doesn't do much to win anybody. If anything, it undermines the achievement of Jesus on the cross and the reality of our standing before a holy God.

Cliff is not the last, just the latest. How do we respond?

Sir Cliff Richard is the latest celebrity to be accused of an historic sex-crime. He has yet to be formally charged with anything but an accusation has been made and the police have begun their investigations. Although unconnected to Operation Yew Tree - the police investigation into child sex offences following the Jimmy Saville revelations - it marks yet another chapter in the seemingly endless slew of accusations following just about every celebrity that was famous pre-1990.

What is especially disheartening about this particular accusation is that Cliff Richard is a Christian. He has suffered professionally for his religious stance. Upon his conversion, he planned to quit music altogether but, deciding against this, changed his act, which had been labelled "too sexy for TV". In later years, he lost credibility within the music world seemingly for no other reason than his Christian stance. This is supported by the fact that he released a number of tracks in the 1990s under the pseudonym Blacknight, receiving widespread airtime and critical acclaim until his true identity was revealed as the artist. There have been plenty of people waiting for Cliff to fall in the most public of ways and, certainly until now, he did not oblige. Whilst no Christian is beyond any form of sin, it is astounding to think it possible, after such a long-standing and clear Christian witness, that this might be true.

What are we to draw from this latest saga? 

We should presume innocence until proven otherwise

It is a well establish principle of law that one is presumed innocent until proven guilty. Many of us let the phrase trip off the tongue so easily. Yet, in the emotive case of child sex offences, this principle is rarely applied outside the court room. Trial by tabloid seems to be the order of the day. Phrases like "he looks like one" and "I always knew he was a bit weird" belie claims to impartiality. Very few people acknowledge that many accused celebrities, even those formally charged, have ultimately been found innocent. William Roach, Michael Le Vell, Jim Davidson and, long before the floodgates opened, Matthew Kelly have all been found innocent following charges. In this case, as yet, Sir Cliff has not even been formally charged. Let us call off the dogs and hold our fire until a trial has taken place and a verdict been reached.

We should see Moral Relativism for what it is

We have seen plenty of celebrities charged with offences. In the cases of Stuart Hall, Rolf Harris and Max Clifford the charges have been upheld and prison sentences given out. Others have been charged and find cases ongoing, recurring or new cases arising. The defence that seems to crop up time and again is that the culture was different back then, nobody really thought these things wrong. 

Aside from the fact such offences were against the law even in the 1970s, showing the authorities evidently thought these things wrong, the victims themselves clearly don't share that view either. The problem we have is that a moving moral compass opens the door to such nonsense. Today, we believe we have advanced so far that previous social mores simply do not hold. If such is the case, then existing social mores cannot be pressed retroactively. If morality is ever-changing, we cannot hold people to account historically for things that were not deemed amoral when they were committed. If we want to see justice done in historical cases, moral relativism simply makes it impossible to do so consistently.

We should recognise why we have an appetite for these stories

What is it that makes us buy tabloid papers screaming about these things? Can we honestly say that it is nothing more than a desire to keep informed? More likely, it is because we enjoy feeling superior. We feel good when we see others fail and that is not because we particularly enjoy watching heinous acts of sin. Rather, it is because in judging others worse than ourselves we make ourselves relatively good. An unchanging moral compass means that the sin of another does nothing to effect the value of my own sin. Moral relativism allows me to look at those committing worse acts than me and justify my own shortcomings by arguing I'm not as bad as that.

Knowing a number of people involved in prison outreach, it may surprise you to know that moral relativism is as alive in gaol as it is on the outside. Murderers, though guilty by their own admission, justify themselves as not as bad as the paedophiles. Paedophiles have their own sliding scale. The barrenness of this view is evident. it leads us to conclude, despite the Biblical claim "there is none who does good, not even one", that all do good, except one... the one who is the worst person in society. Really, our agenda is driven by counting ourselves good and doing so by deeming all those worse than us as bad.

We should acknowledge Christians are not beyond sin, even of this magnitude

Even a cursory reading of the Bible will show that none of us are beyond the reach sin. Christians, like everyone else, may fall in public and disgraceful ways. Any reading of Paul or John that does not lead us to understand our inherent propensity to sin shows we haven't understood either the Bible or the gospel. 

Bearing in mind the point above, I do not want to accuse Cliff Richard of anything here. Yet, we cannot pretend that Christian people are beyond even gross acts of sin. A common perception is that "sin" is what Christians talk about when they point the finger at unbelievers. Such a view misunderstands the Biblical position. Far from pointing the finger, Christians know all too well how sinful they are and take both Romans 3:23 and 1 John 1:8 very seriously indeed. The wonder shouldn't be that people do such heinous things, the wonder should be that less of us do. God's grace holds back the tide of sin.

We should remember, though some escape justice, none escape justice

The spark that ignited the fire was the Jimmy Saville revelations. Many are frustrated and angry that Saville not only indulged in this grotesque behaviour for so long but was never brought to justice. For many, Saville simply got away with it. The Bible tells us we have a loving and merciful God. Yet, the Bible is also clear that God is just. All will have to stand before him and give and account of our life, both Christian and non-Christian alike. Though justice may not have been done on Earth we can rest assured that it will be done by Almighty God.

We should not be fooled. Judgment is not only for those who have committed the most heinous crimes. If moral relativism is flawed, God's justice cannot only extend to the worst of all criminals. Indeed, his justice must simply extend to all those who have fallen short of his glory. If scripture is to be believed, none of us have lived up to that exacting standard.

We should rejoice that God welcomes those who repent, even repentant celebrities

The God of justice is not only concerned with what is just. Though his justice demands satisfaction, his love and mercy demand a means of escape. In Jesus Christ, God simultaneously satisfied his justice and mercy. The central message of the Bible is not that all are sinners. The central message is that Jesus Christ welcomes sinners who repent. Moral relativism keeps us from recognising that we have all fallen short of God's perfect morality. Yet, if we acknowledge our shortcomings and look to Jesus in repentance, the just wrath of God that we deserve can be laid upon Jesus Christ.

It is sad that there was no evidence of repentance on the part of Jimmy Saville. In the cases of Stuart Hall and Rolf Harris, the same seems to apply. They seem sorry at having been caught but not all that sorry for what they have done. Whatever views one has on the British prison system, they will ultimately have to answer to the Lord and face the real punishment for their crimes and not just those for which they have been sent to prison.

But God does welcome repentant sinners. The apostle Paul states "Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of which I am foremost" (1 Tim 1:15). And that was not moral relativism at play or false modesty, Paul had well documented reason to think of himself as the chief of all sinners. Yet, Paul - who was a murdering, religious persecutor not unlike IS, formerly ISIS - repented of even this heinous sin and the Lord Jesus Christ welcome him. Likewise, he offers forgiveness to you and I if we turn in repentance to him. If he can save a repentant Paul, he can save any of us!

The loathsome introduction of judicially enforced eugenics

Here is a most troubling story. Lord Justice Munby - Head of the Family Division of the High Court of Justice in England and Wales - has ordered a 13 year old girl to have an abortion despite her clear desire to the contrary. The Cranmer blog comments here.

The basic facts of the case are these: The girl in question has an IQ of 54 and the comprehension skills of a seven year old. She has been deemed "very damaged", "impaired" and "largely out of control". The father of the child was a 14 year old boy, evidently reckless and irresponsible himself. Nonetheless, it was manifestly clear the girl "had set her mind against termination" and expressed "unambiguous hostility towards termination".

One expert argued "If the pregnancy were terminated I believe that this would cause considerable harm to this young girl, who would see it as an assault. Continuing the pregnancy...may have a less detrimental effect on her given her current circumstances". Nevertheless, Lord Justice Munby argued "a clinical psychologist showed the girl lacked capacity to decide for herself" and ruled "it was clearly appropriate for me to supply the necessary consent to enable the termination to proceed". All of this is over and against the desire of the girl herself and the recommendation of clinical experts.

Cranmer has previously commented on Lord Justice Munby and his underlying legal presumptions (accessible here). Whatever view one holds is rather by the by in this case. It matters not whether one believes, like Cranmer, Christian mores and values should underpin our legal system. Nor should it make a difference if one prefers Lord Justice Munby's position that "the law of this country is secular, and that Christianity no longer informs its morality or values". What really matters - and I see no reason to reach a different conclusion based on a Christian or secular worldview - is whether enforced eugenics (and let's make no mistake, that is precisely what we are talking about) is ever acceptable.

The decision made by Lord Justice Munby was clearly not made on the basis of the girl being a minor. A month earlier, Mr Justice Mostyn had ruled that another pregnant 13 year old girl "had the mental capacity to understand options open to her" and that she was free to "decide what she wishes to do". This makes it evident the decision was based on IQ alone. Moreover, despite expert testimony that continuing the pregnancy would have been preferable for the mother, Lord Justice Munby ruled for a termination. This rather suggests the best interests of the mother were not at heart (for the best interests of the mother were expressly stated as continuation of the pregnancy). 

What then are we to make of the decision to terminate? Seemingly, it was based on little more than the mother's low IQ and comprehension. Given the best interests of the mother were to continue with the pregnancy, it follows the mother's best interests cannot have been forefront in the decision-making process. We are thus forced to conclude that although the low IQ of the mother was the basis for the decision being taken out of her hands, it was also the fundamental basis of the decision to terminate the pregnancy.

Though Christian and secular values may differ over the rights and wrongs of removing the decision-making process from the mother (though not necessarily), surely both would agree that the "best interests" of the mother must be taken into account when reaching a decision. Though, when discussing abortion in the abstract, Christian and secular worldviews may differ over what constitutes "best interests", in this case the best interests were made manifestly clear by expert witnesses. They concluded the best interests of the mother were to continue with pregnancy. 

This begs the question: why did Lord Justice Munby rule to terminate the pregnancy over and against the wishes, and the best interests (in the view of experts), of the mother? One can only conclude that Lord Justice Munby was concerned the child would inherit the mother's low IQ and level of comprehension. The mother's wishes and best interests were apparently moot.

Cranmer gives undue credit by inferring that Lord Justice Munby believed he was acting in the girl's best interests, despite his palpable wrongness predicated on his secularist presumptions. Rather, it seems Lord Justice Munby, despite expert testimony clearly stating the girl's best interests, reached a conclusion contrary to this measure. It is hard to escape any other conclusion but that this represents judicially enforced eugenics. Whatever differences exist between Christians and secularists (and those with a foot in both camps), one finds it hard to believe that many would find this acceptable.

What do we do when justice fails?

The 2006 St Andrews Agreement has always been something of a tentative conclusion to the problems in Northern Ireland. Voting remains as polarised as ever - Protestants still overwhelmingly vote Unionist; Catholics still predominantly vote Republican - with the Ulster Unionists and SDLP continuing to play second fiddle to those parties once deemed (perhaps unfairly) more "radical" but certainly more virulently disposed to the aims and desires of their respective communities. The DUP, over the last 30 years, stood on a platform of being more Unionist than the Ulster Unionists and more robust in their rejection of the Good Friday Agreement (GFA) to great effect. Likewise, Sinn Fein have positioned themselves as greener than the SDLP. That the DUP and Sinn Fein are the majority parties within their respective communities speaks to the nature of voting cleavages in the region and the primary concerns of both the Protestant and Catholic communities.

Given all that, what are we to make of the recent revelations that secret backdoor deals, including immunity, had been given to terror suspects? Unsurprisingly, such revelations are now threatening to tear apart the already fragile St Andrews Agreement. Peter Robinson, First Minister of Northern Ireland, is threatening to resign unless there is a full judicial review into what went on. David Trimble, former Ulster Unionist leader who was central in the formation of the GFA, has stated he was unaware of such deals and reiterated that no such provision was made in the GFA to grant immunity to terror suspects. In particular, the St Andrews Agreement marked the desire of Sinn Fein to submit to the rule of law and specifically the authority of the Police Service of Northern Ireland (PSNI). The recent revelations of backdoor deals rather undermines the very agreement that led to power sharing in the first instance.

Sadly, this was all rather too predictable (indeed, I commented to that effect as an undergraduate student just prior to the signing of the St. Andrews Agreement). The central flaws in the power sharing arrangement were threefold: (1) The Arend Lijphart consociationalist model for Power Sharing giving the minority side a veto on any "petition of concern"; (2) As Col. Tim Collins argues, "the Good Friday Agreement was in fact a “peace at any price” deal where a militarily defeated IRA and the chaotic so-called loyalist paramilitaries were given the working-class populations of their respective communities as a blood dowry, to do with as they pleased in exchange for keeping the violence off the TV screens. The knee-cappings and beatings carried on out of sight. Only once – the brutal murder of Robert McCartney in 2005 – did the mask slip, but this was quickly covered up." St Andrews never dealt with this underlying and ongoing issue; (3) The DUP rampant rejection of the GFA was based on several factors, but one central issue was early prisoner releases. St Andrews never addressed this issue and these recent revelations were bound to reopen this old wound.

What hope of justice exists for the families of the victims of those who have been given immunity? Sadly, at the present time, not much. Unless a judicial review determines the letters granting immunity to be void (and one finds it difficult to see how they could do) terror suspects of historic crimes will remain immune. All the while, I think Tim Collins is right to feel aggrieved that "the Hyde Park murders, we are told by [Peter] Hain and others, are so far back in time that it is an outrage that anyone should be held to account. Yet he would be the first to bay for the prosecution of any soldier even vaguely associated with the event of Bloody Sunday, 10 years earlier in 1972". In the end, justice at the present time seems unlikely to be forthcoming. Expensive enquiries into the historic actions of state service men and women continue whilst equal energy is put into covering up the historic actions of terror suspects (on both sides). 

Nevertheless, none of us will escape the justice of the Lord. Whether British service men and women, Loyalist or Republican terrorist, the Lord sees all and knows what each has done. He will hold to account. For the Christian, though we may often feel like David in Psalm 73, we know that "it is appointed for man to die once, and after that comes judgement (Heb 9:27)". Likewise, "it is time for judgement to begin at the household of God; and if it begins with us, what will be the outcome for those who do not obey the gospel of God? (1 Pet 4:17)"

Thatcher's funeral and the ultimate democracy

After this, this and this one wondered whether Giles Fraser was ever going to stumble upon something with which I can agree. Just when we may have given up hope, Fraser offers this astute theological observation in today's Guardian:

I have buried some extraordinary wrong 'uns in my time: crooks, murderers, wife-beaters and swindlers. But these funerals were never lies, because unlike a secular send-off, where the past virtues of the deceased necessarily take centre stage, the Christian funeral can leave all that stuff to God. It is not, first and foremost, the celebration of a life or the retelling of achievement. It is an unsentimental acknowledgment that death is the ultimate democracy. It comes to us all – the good and the bad, the rich and the poor, the powerful and the weak. And with death in a Christian context also comes a recognition that we are all subject to the mercy of God for our failings. "However families or states want to dress up and create an occasion, the heart of a funeral is very simple," was how Canon Mark Oakley put it in his sermon last Sunday at St Paul's.

He illustrated the point with reference to the funerals of Habsburg royalty. As the funeral procession approached the closed doors of the Imperial chapel in Vienna, a voice from inside would ask, "who is it?". The grand chamberlain would read out a long list of grand titles. The voice from the church then replied: "We know him not." The chamberlain would try again, with a shortened version, and received the same reply. Finally, the chamberlain knocks on the door. Again comes the question, "who is it?", and this time, eschewing all pomp and ceremony, he answers: "A sinner in need of God's mercy." "Him we know; enter," comes the reply.

Today is the one day that I will not be demonstrating or turning my back. For Thatcher and I share that final description: both of us failed, both in need of forgiveness. Its the ultimate human solidarity. And while I recognise that many find the language of sin and judgment increasingly uncongenial, it is nonetheless for precisely this reason that it is such a theological mistake to use her funeral as an occasion for grand political theatre, inviting comparisons with Winston Churchill. As the Habsburg funerals recognised, none of that makes any difference in the ultimate scheme of things.

Without God, final judgment becomes the domain of the crowd and the newspapers. I once asked the former archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, what he really wanted to say to Robert Mugabe before his trip to Zimbabwe, back in 2010. The archbishop looked up from his drink, and dropped his voice: "There is no immunity from prosecution when you are dead," he said. And no, this column is not deliberately putting Margaret Thatcher in the company of thieves and dictators to make a political point. I'm putting us all in that company to make a theological one.

Fraser's point is a biblical one. Death is the ultimate leveller from which none of us escape. As the writer to the Hebrews states, "it is appointed for man to die once, and after that comes judgment (9:27, ESV)". Indeed, Peter makes clear that we will all have to stand before a holy God and give account of our lives (see 1 Pet. 4:17f).

Nevertheless, Paul comments:

all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a propitiation by his blood, to be received by faith. This was to show God's righteousness, because in his divine forbearance he had passed over former sins. It was to show his righteousness at the present time, so that he might be just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus (Rom. 3:23-26, ESV)

Fraser is quite correct that we must rely on God's mercy when we stand before Him in the judgment. However, if our reliance on God's mercy is a mere hope we will simply be let off the hook, then we have entirely failed to grasp the nature of God's justice. On the other hand, if we are relying on the redemptive work of Jesus we have good grounds to receive God's mercy. For, in Jesus, God punished the sin of those who receive Christ by faith and there is nothing more to be paid. This meets God's justice whilst simultaneously allowing God to show mercy to the sinner. Thus God is both just - by actually punishing sin in Christ - as well as the justifier, by his grace, of the one who has faith in Jesus.

Therefore the Christian has nothing to fear in death. As the writer to the Hebrews goes on, having spoken of the inevitability of death and judgment, he comments "so Christ, having been offered once to bear the sins of many, will appear a second time, not to deal with sin but to save those who are eagerly waiting for him (Heb. 9:28, ESV)".