Neglecting Complaint in the Pursuit of Courage

This summer at the Highland Church of Christ in Memphis where I preach 100 teenagers travelled to four locations in two countries and touched the lives of over 1,000 children.  They descended upon Belize, Houston, Saint Louis, and Atlanta.  We call these annual service opportunities T.I.M.E trips.  TIME stands for Teens In Mission Experiences.  During these experiences our teens minister to underprivileged children and adults and assist under-resourced congregations in a variety of ways.  It is often a challenging week filled with intense temperatures, hard floors to sleep on, back breaking labor, and child after child from broken homes living broken lives.  For some of these teens, it’s the hardest week of the year.

At the end of this season’s TIME trips, our youth ministers shared reports with our staff and elders.  One of the common statements made in this year’s reports was this: “Our teens didn’t complain a single time.”  This was shared as praise for our teens.  It was, in fact, a minor miracle.  Mixing 100 teenagers with hot and hard places where they spend twelve hours a day serving rather than being served and eating food they don’t like and rarely being able to text or Facebook is a potential recipe for moaning, groaning, and griping.  But there was none of that this summer.  Instead, the teens showed great courage as they faced challenges and focused on the mission and purpose of their trips.

The absence of complaint and the presence of courage is, I think, a virtue particularly valued in the United States.

We admire courage, don’t we?  But we don’t admire complaint.  We don’t want to be labeled as complainers and we don’t want our children to complain.  We applaud the courageous.  We condemn the complainers.  We want to be like that girl in the movie.

And this perspective often finds its way into our prayers.  We’d much rather demonstrate courage in a prayer than complaint in a prayer.  We’re far more likely to make bold and fearless promises in prayer than we are to moan and groan and gripe in prayer.

In fact, according to Richard Beck—a professor at Abilene Christian University—many of us pursue a prayer life in which we never complain.[i] For many of us, complaint is completely absent from our prayers.  Specifically, Beck writes that some of us operate with a model of prayer in which “faith” or “faithfulness” is one end of the continuum and “lament” or “complaint” is at the opposite end.  Thus, if we want to be faithful to God and pray with faith, we have to be as far away from lament and complaint as possible.  And, if we do lament or complain in our prayers, it’s a sign that we don’t have faith and we are not faithful Christians.

But if this model of prayer was correct, we would expect to find only positive and praise-filled prayers falling from the lips of Jesus.  We would expect to find only courage and never complaint in the prayers of Jesus.  But that is not what we find.

Of the ten prayers of Jesus, three are laments or complaints.  There are at least ten times when the Gospels give us the actual words that Jesus prayed in a prayer.  Of these ten prayers, three are easily characterized as laments or complaints.

Either this means Jesus is unfaithful and doesn’t pray with faith, or it means that our model of prayer is wrong.  The latter seems more likely.  These portraits of Jesus in prayer as one who groans and moans force us to consider an alternative paradigm for prayer.  The fact that Jesus complains in three of his ten prayers should force us to consider that complaint is not just appropriate in prayer—it is required in prayer.  It is the ultimate sign of a healthy prayer life.  Complaint and lament were an undeniable part of Jesus’ prayers.  They should be an undeniable part of ours as well.

The Gethsemane prayer of Jesus illustrates how courage and complaint can actually co-exist in one prayer:

Then Jesus went with them to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to his disciples, “Sit here, while I go over there and pray.” And taking with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, he began to be sorrowful and troubled. Then he said to them, “My soul is very sorrowful, even to death; remain here, and watch with me.” And going a little farther he fell on his face and prayed, saying, “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will.” And he came to the disciples and found them sleeping. And he said to Peter, “So, could you not watch with me one hour? Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” Again, for the second time, he went away and prayed, “My Father, if this cannot pass unless I drink it, your will be done.” And again he came and found them sleeping, for their eyes were heavy. So, leaving them again, he went away and prayed for the third time, saying the same words again. Then he came to the disciples and said to them, “Sleep and take your rest later on. See, the hour is at hand, and the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Rise, let us be going; see, my betrayer is at hand.” (Matt. 26:36-46 ESV)

This prayer finds Jesus in a deep and dark emotional state.  Notice the descriptions from Matthew:

• Jesus is “sorrowful and troubled” (Matt. 26:37).
• Jesus confesses being “very sorrowful, even to death” (Matt. 26:38).
• Jesus falls on his face (Matt. 26:39).
• Jesus prays not once, but three times for the cup to pass (Matt. 26:44). It’s the only prayer we know of which Jesus repeated multiple times.

Matthew’s peers agree with his assessment of the emotional state of Jesus.  Mark describes Jesus as “greatly distressed” (Mk. 14:33).  Luke, the doctor, diagnoses Jesus as “being in agony” and observes that his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground” (Lk. 22:44). Jesus is experiencing intense feelings of despair and discouragement.

Even the name of the place in which this spiritual wrestling match takes place reveals the depth of his despair.  The word “Gethsemane” suggests an “oil press” where olives are squeezed until what is inside them spills out.^[ii] In the same way, Jesus is now being squeezed until what is within him now spills out.

And the ultimate source of Jesus’ agony is “this cup”—“let this cup pass.”  Elsewhere, Jesus speaks of his impending death on the cross as a “cup” to be drunk (Matt. 20:22). The cup image is rooted in the biblical picture of God’s “cup of wrath.”[iii] It is a terrible thing to contemplate consuming the wrath of God.  And this cup—the cross—has become a circumstance which Jesus now desperately wishes were different.  He does not like what he is facing.  He’d rather be somewhere else.  He’d rather do something else.  He’s literally dying for some way out of this situation.

And what does Jesus do?  Does Jesus put on a brave face?  Does he play the role of the courageous warrior who laughs in the face of suffering?  No.  Jesus complains.  In the truest biblical sense, Jesus complains.  Not once, but three times.  Three times Jesus prays:

“My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me!”

“My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me!”

“My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me!”

Three times Jesus groans: “I am despondent!  I cannot stand this circumstance!  I do not want things to be this way!”

And this appearance of complaint in a prayer from Jesus is so contrary to certain expectations that some through the ages have dismissed the Gethsemane prayer.  They’ve argued that Jesus could not have prayed this prayer.  The Son of God would not have stooped to such complaining.

Yet New Testament scholar Craig Keener writes that this prayer must be considered genuine because it meets “the authentic criterion of embarrassment.”  That is, no Christian would have contrived this prayer.  No Christian would have made up this account.  Why?  Because it could have brought embarrassment upon the Christian faith.  The portrait of Jesus facing death anxiously is vastly different from the image of pagan heroes like Socrates or Jewish heroes like the Maccabean martyrs who all faced death calmly.[iv] Jesus deeply dislikes his circumstances and desperately begs God to change them.  He does not courageously pretend nothing is wrong.  Instead, he is honest with the Father about his feelings.

Mark Roberts teaches at Fuller Seminary.  Writing about the psalmists who lamented, he offers this helpful image:^[v]

Initially, the phrase no holds barred had nothing to do with conversation.  It was a term used in wrestling to describe a match that isn’t constrained by official rules.  If you’ve ever seen a serious wrestling match, in the Olympics, for example, you know that many holds are prohibited.  You won’t see any strangleholds, unlike what you might observe in a “professional” wrestling free-for-all.  Our typical approach to God brings to mind Olympic wrestling, in which every move is governed by detailed rules.  Our communication with God is cautious, controlled, disciplined, and relentlessly boring.  Fearful that we’ll do something wrong or that God won’t accept our true selves, we tame our prayers to the point that we actually hide ourselves from the Lord.  We pray without energy, without passion, and without honesty…Whether crying out in agony, complaining with bitterness, begging for deliverance, or praising with joy, the psalmists consistently accepted God’s invitation to bold prayer.  Whether desperate with need or bursting with thanks, they didn’t hold anything back.

Like the psalmists, Jesus held nothing back.  He accepted God’s invitation to bold prayer.  He prayed with energy, passion, and honesty.  Jesus gives us permission to say to God, “Let this cup pass.  Let this cup pass.  Let this cup pass.

The LaVelle’s are a Highland family who faced their own Gethsemane last year.  One warm evening a county sheriff arrived at the Lavelle home with solemn news: their twenty-year-old daughter Liz had just died in a car accident.  She had been travelling from Memphis to Nashville for the start of a new college school year.  She lost control of her car and died in the accident.  Dozens of us immediately filled their house and surrounded the family.  At one point in the darkening evening, a family member screamed out: “Can I just say that I hate this?!”

How do you pray in that situation?  Do you pretend everything is OK?  Do you courageously thank God for this chance to grow?  Do you laugh in the face of death?  No.  You pray as Jesus prayed: “Change this!  Stop this!  Make things better!”  You lament.  You complain.

One summer many of us followed the saga of Sky—the eleven-year-old son of Chris Seidman.  Sky had been hospitalized for weeks with meningitis, staph, and a vicious rash.  On day forty-five, Sky was, in Chris’ words, “in a rage.”  He was filled with anger and despair.  He couldn’t stand his present circumstance.  What was Chris to do?  Was Chris supposed to tell his son, “Grow up!  Buck up.  Embrace this opportunity to grow.  Be courageous.  Be strong”?  Was Chris supposed to tell his son to put on a brave face?  Here’s what Chris did.  He said, “I told him he could let God have it.”  And Sky did.  Chris wrote that he stood beside Sky while the boy hollered at God.  Later, Chris wrote this: “Confessing one’s doubts about God to God is still an expression of faith in God.”

This is part of what the Gethsemane prayer teaches us.  In a culture in which courage almost always overshadows complaint, the Gethsemane prayer teaches us the important role of true lament. Jesus models for us how to say to God the kind of things we may have thought we never could say.  The fact that Jesus complains in his this prayer should force us to consider that complaint is not just appropriate in prayer—it is required in prayer.

^[ii] “Gethsemane,” D. R. W. Wood and I. H. Marshall, I. H. (1996). New Bible Dictionary Third Edition, (IVP, 1996), 407.

[iii] Ps. 11:6; 60:3; 75:8; Is. 29:9-10; 51:17, 21-23; Jer. 25:15-29.

[iv] Craig S. Keener, A Commentary on the Gospel of Matthew (Eerdmans, 1999), 633.

[v] Mark D. Roberts, No Holds Barred (Waterbrook Press, 2005), 4-7.

Last year preacher and author Rob Bell wrote a book about hell.  The book was called Love Wins.[1] It sparked a firestorm within the larger Christian community because it challenged traditional teaching about hell.  It also fueled serious discussion within the larger non-Christian culture.  For example, Time magazine followed the book’s release with an edition with these words splashed across the cover: “What if there’s no hell?”[2] A few months from now a movie will be released entitled “Hell and Mr. Fudge.”  The movie tells the true story of a Church of Christ minister who rebelled against traditional views of hell.  There’s a lot of discussion in our churches and in our culture about hell.

In his book, Rob Bell points out why hell is such a provocative issue: “A staggering number of people have been taught that a select few Christians will spend forever in a peaceful, joyous place called heaven, while the rest of humanity spends forever in torment and punishment in hell with no chance for anything better. It’s been clearly communicated to many that this belief is a central truth of the Christian faith and to reject it is, in essence, to reject Jesus. This is misguided and toxic and ultimately subverts the contagious spread of Jesus’s message of love, peace, forgiveness, and joy that our world desperately needs to hear…Of all the billions of people who have ever lived, will only a select number “make it to a better place” and every single other person suffer in torment and punishment forever? Is this acceptable to God? Has God created millions of people over tens of thousands of years who are going to spend eternity in anguish? Can God do this, or even allow this, and still claim to be a loving God? Does God punish people for thousands of years with infinite, eternal torment for things they did in their few finite years of life?”  As Bell reveals, there are many difficult questions when it comes to hell.

This morning we begin a 4-part series on the problem of hell.  We’ll be exploring four concerns that many have about the traditional doctrine of hell. 

• We’ll look at the capacity of hell.  For many, the traditional Christian teaching means there’s going to be too many people in hell—too many who do not deserve to be there.  The problem is put this way: Hell is overcrowded.
• We’ll look at the severity of hell.  For many, the traditional Christian teaching means that hell is too severe.  A loving God wouldn’t treat people this way.  The problem is put this way: Hell us unloving.
• We’ll also look at the eternality of hell.  For many, the traditional Christian teaching about hell being eternal is sickening.  It might be one thing for God to punish the ungodly in a severe way.  But to punish them for all eternity?  The problem is put this way: Hell is unrelenting.
• We’ll look also at the reality of hell.  That’s where we begin this morning.  The problem is put this way: Hell is fabricated.

Obviously, we will be covering a lot of ground in this series.  It will demand more of your mind and heart than normal.  And, I can’t answer every question fully.  Thus this series may just be the beginning of your own study of hell.  In this morning’s Link you’ll find some of the books I’ll refer to in this series.

We’ll begin with the last problem I mentioned: many people have a problem with the reality of hell.  There are Christians and non-Christians who feel that hell is a fabrication, one big lie, which preachers and churches have created to manipulate others.  They feel that Jesus never talked about hell, and the authors of the Bible, at least the New Testament authors, have no real interest in hell.  As I read in the quote a few seconds ago, some feel that belief in hell is misguided and toxic.  They believe Christians have made a mountain out of a molehill.  If you really took the time to read the Bible, you’d find that hell is not a very big deal. 

But this isn’t just a contemporary concern.  It’s a concern that’s existed for a long time.  Seminary president R. Albert Mohler Jr. writes about the history of people’s struggle with the doctrine of hell.[3] The first major challenge to the traditional view of hell came from a theologian named Origen.  Origen believed everyone would ultimately be reconciled to God.  He taught that if anyone did go to hell, it would only be temporary.  But Origen’s teaching was rejected in AD 553.  The church’s consensus on hell continued to be widely held for another thousand years.

During the seventeenth century and eighteenth century in Europe, some religious thinkers and philosophers began to raise serious questions about hell.  One group named the Socinians taught that hell would not be eternal but that the ungodly would be destroyed completely in hell.  Philosophers began arguing that hell should be viewed metaphorically, not literally.

In the nineteenth century, British Prime Minister William Gladstone stated that hell had been “relegated … to the far-off corners of the Christian mind … there to sleep in the deep shadow as a thing needless in our enlightened and progressive age.”  He and others believed it was time to rid the Christian faith of the old-fashioned notion of hell.

Certain preachers and theologians in America agreed.  Influential Brooklyn preacher Henry Ward Beecher called the doctrine of an eternal hell a “hideous” doctrine and “spiritual barbarism.”  And in the 1970s and 1980s, challenges to the traditional doctrine of hell finally moved into evangelical Christianity.  The point is simply that Christians and non-Christians have long wrestled with the notion of hell.  If you’ve ever struggled, you are not alone.  The doctrine of hell is one that raises very serious questions.

I want to address these doubts by surveying what the Bible actually says about hell.  We don’t have time to look at every text, or to go into much depth with any one text.  I don’t normally cover this many texts in a sermon.  But this survey is essential to addressing the question at hand in this morning’s sermon.  I encourage you to write these texts down and study them later on your own.

The New Testament leaves no doubt about the reality of hell. You cannot read the New Testament and believe that hell is a molehill.  You cannot read the New Testament and believe that hell is a marginal and unimportant matter.

Let’s look at Paul’s writings.  Surprisingly, the word “hell” does not occur in Paul’s writings. But Paul does teach about hell. We’ll look at Romans and 2 Thessalonians.  In his letter to the Roman church, Paul relates some important truths about the future punishment of the ungodly.

• Paul writes that the wicked are objects of God’s wrath (9:22) and they continually store up wrath for the day of wrath (2:5–8; 3:5).
• Paul writes that the future punishment of the ungodly consists of “death” and “destruction.” Sinners, Paul states, deserve death (1:32), the wages of sin is death (6:16–23), and those who live according to the flesh should expect death (8:13). Also, Paul writes that sinners are vessels of wrath “prepared for destruction” (9:22).
• He writes of future punishment as being “accursed and cut off from Christ” (9:3 ESV).

Paul teaches most directly about hell in 2 Thessalonians.  Hell, Paul writes is “vengeance on those who do not know God and on those who do not obey the gospel of our Lord Jesus.  They will suffer the punishment of eternal destruction, away from the presence of the Lord…” (1:8-9).

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Two passages in Hebrews talk about future judgment:

• Hebrews 6:1–3 refers to the future punishment of the wicked as “eternal judgment” (6:2), which the author says is an “elementary doctrine” of the faith (cf. 6:1).
• Hebrews 10:27–30 depicts this judgment as fearful and dreadful, a “fury of fire that will consume the adversaries.”

Peter and Jude write about hell.

• Peter and Jude both depict hell as “destruction” (2 Peter 2:1, 3, 12; Jude 5, 10, 11).
• Both describe hell is like a gloomy dungeon, where rebellious angels are held for judgment (2 Peter 2:4; Jude 6 is similar).
• Peter likens hell to Sodom and Gomorrah’s burning to ashes (2 Peter 2:6)
• Peter also writes that hell is a place of retribution (2:13) and “utter darkness” (2:17)
• Jude describes hell both as a punishment of “eternal fire” (Jude 7) and “gloomy darkness (Jude 6).

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Revelation contains some of the most noteworthy passages on hell.  Consider Revelation 14:9–11:  “⁹ And another angel, a third, followed them, saying with a loud voice, “If anyone worships the beast and its image and receives a mark on his forehead or on his hand, ¹⁰ he also will drink the wine of God’s wrath, poured full strength into the cup of his anger, and he will be tormented with fire and sulfur in the presence of the holy angels and in the presence of the Lamb.¹¹ And the smoke of their torment goes up forever and ever, and they have no rest, day or night, these worshipers of the beast and its image, and whoever receives the mark of its name.” In Rev. 20:15 John writes, “And if anyone’s name was not found written in the book of life, he was thrown into the lake of fire.”

Perhaps most importantly, Jesus speaks of hell.  Jesus gives a central place to hell in his best-known sermon, the Sermon on the Mount, recorded in Matt. 5–7. There, Jesus warns against hateful anger, because “whoever says, ‘You fool!’ will be liable to the hell of fire.” (Matt. 5:22 ESV).  In this same sermon, Jesus urges us to gouge out a sinful eye or cut off a sinful hand because, “it is better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body be thrown into hell.” (Matt. 5:30 ESV)  Top of FormBottom of Form

Later, when LaTop of Form

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Jesus sends out the Twelve, he realizes they will be harassed, hated, and persecuted.  So he gives them a speech to deepen their courage and conviction.  Jesus tells them, “And do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul.  Rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell.”  (Matt. 10:28 ESV).

Jesus accused his opponents of turning people away from God, producing a convert who is “twice as much a child of hell” as they themselves (Matt. 23:15 ESV).

There is no doubt.  The Bible is very clear.  Hell does exist.  Hell is a critical matter in the Christian faith.  It is not a creation of preachers or churches.  It was taught by the most central figures in the Christian faith, including Jesus.  Jesus believed in hell.  He warned us against hell.  It is not a thing needless in our enlightened and progressive age.  I would suggest that hell has never been a more needed doctrine than it is in this age.  I believe it’s critical for Christians to recapture a healthy and biblical view of hell.  It is not something we can afford to dismiss or ignore.

Kathy Chapman writes about something her child once said.[4] “One morning, my 4-year-old son, Kevin, and his grandpa went out to buy donuts. On the way, Grandpa turned to Kevin and asked, ‘Which way is heaven?’ Kevin pointed to the sky. ‘Which way is hell?’ Kevin pointed towards the floor of the truck. Grandpa continued, ‘And where are you going?’ ‘Dunkin’ Donuts,’ Kevin replied. For many of us, not much has changed since we were four.  We’d much rather think about Dunkin Donuts than about heaven and hell.  But the New Testament is clear.  Hell is a reality.  And it is a reality that must be addressed.

How do we make sense of all of these passages?  That’s what the rest of this series will do.  We’ll unpack some of these texts and look more deeply into them.  But for this morning, I want to share three broad points.  Author Christopher Morgan argues that passages like these point to three realities.[5] These points serve as a beginning place in our discussion about the reality of hell.  Morgan writes that hell represents the reality of God’s punishment, God’s destruction, and God’s banishment.

First, hell represents the reality of God’s punishment.  In Matthew 25, Jesus describes hell as “eternal punishment.”  In 2 Thessalonians 1, Paul discusses hell as God punishing those who disobey him.  Hell represents the reality that God will punish sin.  Hell is simply God finally punishing the sin that remains in the world.

Second, hell represents the reality of God’s destruction.  In 2 Peter 2, Peter writes of hell as “destruction.”  In 2 Thess. 1 Paul describes hell as a place of “destruction.”   New Testament scholars point out that when biblical authors speak of destruction, they are referring to something that loses the essence of its nature or loses its function.  One writes, “[in the Bible when God destroys things or people] they cease to be useful or to exist in their original, intended state.”  Thus hell is the state we exist in when we cease to be useful to God or when we cease to function in our intended way.  Hell is not just God punishing sin.  It is God destroying creations who have chosen not to function in the way they were intended to function; not to pursue the purpose for which they were created.

Finally, hell represents the reality of God’s banishment.  This idea of hell as a banishment from God is prominent in the teachings of Jesus.  In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus proclaims that he will judge the world and declare to unbelievers, “depart from me!” (Matt. 7:23).   Jesus later portrays the wicked as being excluded from the kingdom: “Depart from me … into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels” (Matt. 25:41). Hell is banishment.  Hell is not just God punishing sin.  It’s not just God destroying creations who have chosen not to function the way they were intended to function.  It’s also God banishing those who’ve chosen in their lives to live apart from him anyway.  It’s them being removed from his goodness and grace.

We can put it this way.  Hell is a real place where justice is finally served–punishment, relationships are fully severed–banishment, and our life’s purpose is fatally stopped—destruction. That’s the reality of hell.

Why is all of this so important?  Because without this reality, we could not truly understand the cross.  The reality of Hell sheds light on the reality of the cross. [6] On the cross, Jesus takes on himself the punishment that is ours because of our sin.  Justice is finally served—but on Jesus not on us.  And, on the cross, Jesus faces complete destruction.  From the pre-crucifixion torture to the cross itself, Jesus is completely destroyed.  Even though we were the ones who refused to serve the purpose for which we were created, on the cross, Jesus was fatally stopped.  And, on the cross, Jesus is banished from God.  That’s why he cries out “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”  That divine relationship is fully severed.  Bell wants to argue that to accept the reality of hell is to subvert the contagious spread of Jesus’ message of love.  I would argue just the opposite.  It’s only when we accept the reality of hell that we can truly understand Jesus’ message of love and Jesus ultimate act of love on the cross.  Because on the cross, Jesus went through hell for us.  Jesus experienced hell so we would never have to.

I want to close each of these lessons with three brief words of application.  Here they are: Hell stirs our mission, spurs our maturity, but does not summarize our message. First, hell does not summarize our message.  There are too many who assume that Christianity is solely about escaping hell.  It’s fire-insurance.  Rob Bell writes this sad story: …Several years ago we had an art show at our church. I had been giving a series of teachings on peacemaking, and we invited artists to display their paintings, poems, and sculptures that reflected their understanding of what it means to be a peacemaker. One woman included in her work a quote from Mahatma Gandhi, which a number of people found quite compelling. But not everyone. Someone attached a piece of paper to it. On the piece of paper was written: “Reality check: He’s in hell.” Hell is a reality.  But it’s not what we lead with when we engage others.  It’s not the center of our faith.  And too often we turn people away because we make hell our first conversation.

But second, the reality of hell ought to stir us to greater mission.  Because hell is real, we’ve got to reach out to people who don’t know God or Jesus and try to persuade them to become followers of Jesus.  Charlie Peace, a criminal in England, on the day he was being taken to his execution, listened to a minister reading from the Word.[7] And when he found out he was reading about heaven and hell, he looked at the preacher and said, “Sir, if I believed what you and the church of God say, and even if England were covered with broken glass from coast to coast, I would walk over it on hands and knees and think it worthwhile living just to save one soul from an eternal hell like that.”  The reality of hell ought to stir us to greater mission.

Finally, the reality of hell ought to spur us to greater personal maturity.  Because hell is real, not only do we not want people around us to go there, we don’t want ourselves to go there.  We should therefore be doing all that is within our power to live the kind of holy life that keep us from the possibility of hell.  We should repent of anything that might lead us down that broad way that leads to destruction.

[2] “What if there’s no hell?” Time (April 25, 2011).

[3] R. Albert Mohler Jr., Chapter One, “Is Hell for Real?” in Christopher W. Morgan and Robert A. Peterson, editors, Is Hell Real or Does Everyone Go to Heaven? Zondervan, 2011 Kindle Edition, pages 11-21.

[4] Kathy Chapman, North Lauderdale, FL. Today’s Christian Woman, “Heart to Heart.

[5] Christopher Morgan, Chapter Three, “Four Pictures of Hell” In Morgan and Peterson, Is Hell Real, pages 37-47.

[6] Ibid.

[7] Ravi Zacharias, “The Lostness of Humankind,” Preaching Today, Tape No. 118.

When I see all you’ve made, Lord, I sing “Hallelujah!”

Just look at the rain and the rivers and all the animals refreshed by them!

Just look at the grass and the grain and all the creatures nourished by them!

Just look at the sun, the sea and the stars and all the life enriched by them!

Your creation leads me to celebration.

The more I see of what you’ve made, the more I just have to say, “Hallelujah!”

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http://www.flickr.com/photos/suvcougar/913593933/

My soul praises you Lord.

You are to us whom you were to Moses–compassionate, gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in love.

Your love is so generous it seems to stretch from my back porch to the full moon.

If we stand on one side of the globe, you exile our failures to the opposite side.

They can no more catch us than the sunrise can catch the sunset.

My soul praises you Lord.

Faith in Memphis panelists were asked to weigh in on a debate brewing in the metro-Memphis area: Should the suburban cities form independent school districts in the aftermath of Memphis surrendering its school charter, forcing the unification of county/city school districts (if you’re not from metro-Memphis, this may not make much sense to you)?

Here’s the article I submitted.

What’s your opinion?

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God’s word, when heard, becomes a transformative power within us.  Mark Buchanan explains: “If this stuff gets in you, down in your guts, it is going to shape you in ways beyond your asking or imagination.”[i] The more we heed God’s voice in Scripture, the more it gets down in our guts and shapes us in ways beyond our imagination.

I’ve seen this stuff at work.  My friends Nathan and Karen were teachers in local Memphis public schools.  They were also voracious consumers of Scripture and intent on listening to God.  One day they asked to meet with the staff and elders of our congregation.  With great courage and conviction they announced “We believe God has called us to move to the Philippines to become missionaries.”  Nathan’s mother and father had been laboring for decades in the Philippines starting churches and establishing a highly respected school in the city of Bacolod.  Nathan and Karen discerned that God wanted them to pack up their home, their two boys, and move thousands of miles to partner with the older Luthers in this work.  As we prayed about it, we reached the same conclusion.  We sent Nathan and Karen to get additional training and then watched them fly away to a completely different life.  I recently returned from visiting them and their work in the Philippines.  Churches were thriving.  Their school was overflowing.  Life after life was changing.  How did this all happen?  I believe it started when that word got down inside Nathan and Karen and shaped them beyond their asking or imagination.  Because they heard (and heeded) they, and the lives of many others, were forever changed.

Jesus affirms the power of the Word in his Sermon on the Mount.  As a concluding exhortation, Jesus describes what happens to the person “who hears these words of mine and does them” (Jesus believes real hearing always leads to heeding) (Matt. 7:24 ESV).  That person is changed into something akin to a house resting on a solid foundation that cannot be shaken despite the strongest storms (Matt. 7:24-25).  Today you may feel like a shack likely to fall at the first sign of showers.  You may see yourself as a hut about to collapse from a single clap of thunder.  But if you learn to listen to Jesus, you will be transformed into a solidly constructed and firmly founded home that remains immovable and impenetrable even in the wildest weather.

Lectio Divina

Lectio Divina is the ancient method of hearing the renovating and revolutionary word of God.  It is a method for gaining our lost ears so we may once again listen to the ever-speaking Father, Son and Spirit.

First, choose a brief text of Scripture and read it.  Read as if you are reading a letter from someone you deeply love.  Read as if you are reading these words for the very first time.  As you read, ask, “God, what do you wish to say to me today?”  Listen for a word or phrase that seems to get stuck in your mind or impressed on your heart.

Second, begin to reflect on that word or phrase.  Repeat it.  Write it down.  Draw something which represents it.  Interrogate it: “What’s going on in my life that would cause this word to stick out today?  What sin am I wrestling with that this word addresses?  What blindspot to I possess which this word illuminates?  What comfort and I seeking or courage am I needing that this word brings?  What is it about who I am right now that needs this word?

Third, respond to God in prayer based on what you’ve heard.  Give a shout of praise.  Kneel in humble repentance.  Thank Him for the insight.  Ask him further questions.

Finally, rest in the presence of God.  Spend a few moments in quiet and calming silence with the Father who’s shared so intimately with you today.

Take Ten

Set aside just ten minutes today to experience this powerful practice.  Don’t put it off.  Do it right now if you can.  Listen carefully.  Let that word get down inside of you and change you in ways you never even dreamed of.

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Lord, my heart was filled with wrong.

Now you are filled with wrath.

You are angry with me.

Frustrated.

Disappointed.

How I mourn and long to mend our marred relationship!

I eat ashes for food.

I consume tears for drink.

Yet even in my failure, I have faith in our future.

For your compassion is even greater than your wrath.

Your love is even hotter than your anger.

Mercy, Lord.

Have mercy.

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Lord, because you are full of love and justice, I make this vow:

I will be blameless.

I will expel evil from my life.

I will rescue my neighbor from injustice.

I will remedy whatever is wrong in my home, my city, and my land.

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In the wake of the sexual abuse scandal at Penn State University, New York Times writer David Brooks wrote an article entitled, “Let’s All Feel Superior.” [1] Brooks commented on our tendency to ignore our own sins but notice the sins of others. Brooks writes that many commentators have contemptuously asked of the Penn State scandal: “How could they have let this happen?” “How could officials have just stood by when this abuse was going on?”  We assume that we would have done better than Penn State officials.  But Brooks notes that history shows that ordinary people often don’t get involved in correcting an injustice.  This happens so often that psychologists have a term for it—”the Bystander Effect.”  Brooks writes, “In centuries past, people built moral systems that acknowledged this weakness. These systems emphasized our sinfulness. They reminded people of the evil within themselves.” Unfortunately, according to Brooks, today when something terrible happens, we try to blame it on someone else.  Brooks warns that it’s easy to vilify others from “the island of our own innocence.” It’s easy to ask, “How could they have let this happen?” But Brooks writes:  “The proper question is: How can we ourselves overcome our natural tendency to evade and self-deceive? …. [Sadly], it’s a question this society has a hard time asking because the most seductive evasion is the one that leads us to deny the underside of our own nature.”

We are quick to see the dark underside of others.  But there is something within us that denies the dark underside of ourselves.  We are quick to ask, “How could they let this happen?” but very slow to ask “Why did I let this happen?”

This may be especially true for Christians.  Rebecca Pippert once attended two very different events: a graduate-level psychology class at Harvard University and a Christian Bible study adjacent to Harvard.[2] Pippert offered the following observations on how the two groups addressed their own faults: First, the students [in the graduate-level psychology class] were extraordinarily open and candid about their problems. It wasn’t uncommon to hear them say, “I’m angry,” “I’m afraid,” “I’m jealous” …. Their admission of their problems was the opposite of denial. Second, their openness about their problems was matched only by their uncertainty about where to find resources to overcome them. Having confessed, for example, their inability to forgive someone who had hurt them, [they had no idea how to] resolve the problem by forgiving and being kind and generous instead of petty and vindictive.  [But the contrast with the Bible Study group] was striking. No one spoke openly about his or her problems. There was a lot of talk about God’s answers and promises, but very little about the participants and the problems they faced. The closest thing to an admission [of sin or a personal problem] was a reference to someone who was “struggling and needs prayer.”  “The first group [the psychology class] seemed to have all the problems and no answers; the second group [the Bible Study] had all the answers and no problems.”

Too often that’s how we Christians come across.  We have all the answers to all the sin that’s out there in the world.  But we don’t seem to have any personal problem with sin in our own lives.  We’re quick to see the dark underside of others, but not of ourselves.  And as we’ll see this morning, overcoming this is critical to experiencing renewal.

This is our third Sunday in Col. 3:1-17.  I’ve chosen this text because it focuses on something which is close to the heart of many of us this time of year: renewal.  Near the center of this text, in vs. 10, Paul writes of how we are being “renewed.”  This text summarizes what God does to bring renewal into our lives and how we can join God in that work.

On the first Sunday of the year, we looked at the first of four steps Paul urges us to take to experience renewal.  The first step is “rethink.”  Renewal begins with our thinking.  You change living by first changing thinking.  I called you to adopt some habits by which you could fill your mind with Christ and the things of Christ.  Last Sunday, the focus was on vs. 17 and its call to “do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus.”  Renewal happens when we realize that we don’t have to pack our bags and become a missionary to serve Jesus.  We can serve and honor Jesus with every single word and every single deed.  The second step is “redo.”

This morning we move to Col. 3:5-11: ⁵ Put to death therefore what is earthly in you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry. ⁶ On account of these the wrath of God is coming. ⁷ In these you too once walked, when you were living in them. ⁸But now you must put them all away: anger, wrath, malice, slander, and obscene talk from your mouth. ⁹ Do not lie to one another, seeing that you have put off the old self with its practices ¹⁰and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator. ¹¹ Here there is not Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free; but Christ is all, and in all. (Col. 3:5-11 ESV)

Paul begins by literally urging us to put to death our “earthly members” or our “earthly parts.”  He states in vs. 7 that these parts used to characterize the way we once lived.  And they are still influencing the way we live today.  In other words, even though we are Christians, there are still parts or sections of ourselves which are still earthly or sinful.  This is very significant.  Paul is saying that even though we’ve been cleansed by the blood of Jesus and made into heavenly people, there are still parts of us that are very earthly.  The transformation from sinner to saint does not happen quickly.  Though we are Christians, we still have sinful elements in our lives. The very first thing Paul wants us to do is to acknowledge that we still struggle with these sinful parts.  We must acknowledge our sinful sections. If we want to experience renewal, we must confess that we are in need of it.  We must admit to ourselves, to one another, and to our God that there are still sections of our hearts, pieces of our mind, slices of our soul which are still oriented toward earthly things and not heavenly things.  We can’t be quick to see the underside of others and ignore our own.  One of the keys to renewal is to admit that we too have sinful aspects to ourselves.

In fact, the Christians Paul writes to here were still wrestling with very significant sins.  First, Paul lists their five sinful sections of intimacy: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness.  These words all have to do with sexually intimate sins and they move from the most egregious outward expression to the most private inward expression.  At the end of the list we find covetousness—desiring something which cannot be ours.  This was the tenth of the Ten Commandments.  This morphs into evil desire—the longing for something which is evil or contrary to God’s wishes.  This in turn transforms into passion, a sexual hunger and longing.  This becomes impurity and then sexual immorality.  “Sexual immorality” refers to any sexual act outside of marriage.  And Paul knows the Christians in Colossae used to let these sins run rampant and that there are still sections of their lives struggling with them.

Second, Paul lists their six sinful sections of irritability: anger, wrath, malice, slander, obscene talk, and lying.  These words all have to do with sins of irritability.  Anger—smoldering hatred of someone.  Wrath—what happens when that hatred turns to action.  Malice—a desire to cause harm.  Slander—words that do cause harm.  Obscene talk and lying—speech intended to abuse and confuse others.  Paul knows the Christians in Colossae used major in these sins of irritability and there are still sections of their lives which wrestle even now with them.

A first step to renewal is to admit that we too have sections of our hearts, pieces of our minds, and slices of our souls that wrestle with sins of intimacy and sins of irritability.  We are not perfect.  We do fail.  We do have problems.  That’s the first step toward renewal in this text.

In just a moment Paul’s going to call us to deal aggressively with these sins.  But first let’s look at the motive Paul supplies.  In vs. 6 Paul writes, On account of these the wrath of God is coming. In other words Paul says that God reprimands us for this sin. Simply put, God hates this type of behavior.  And if we allow it to rule our life, he will direct his wrath toward us.  He will reprimand us severely.  He sees these actions and attitudes as idolatry, as Paul writes in vs. 5.  When we let these sins into our lives, we remove God from the throne of our hearts and place either the object or our lust or the object of our hatred  on that throne there.  And God simply will not put up with it.  We should make no mistake.  God will hold us accountable for these things.

But Paul writes not only of this negative motivation.  He writes also of a positive motivation.  In vs. 10 Paul urges us to take action because we “have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator.”  In other words God renews us from this sin. God not only reprimands us for this sin.  He also renews us from this sin.  God is working to make us into brand new people.  And we should therefore take action against these sinful sections of our lives because we want to partner with God in that renewal.  I think what Paul is saying here is this: “Be who you are.”  To continue to live in these sinful ways is inconsistent with who God has made you and is making you.  Be the renewed person you are.  Be the dead now alive person you are.  Participate and partner with God in his work to bring transformation into your heart and mind.

And the way we partner with God in this renewal is by practicing the two strong commands in this text: ⁵Put to death therefore what is earthly in you…⁸But now you must put them all away.  Paul is saying that if you want to experience real renewal in your life this year, it’s going to take aggressive action.  You can’t play around.  You can’t be half-hearted about it.  Not only must you admit the sinful sections of your life.  You must also become ruthless and intense about them.

The words translated “put them all away” literally mean “take off” or “lay aside.”  Paul imagines these sinful parts of ourselves as clothes.  And the only way to truly deal with them is to take them off—all the way off.  In other words we must fully shed this sin. Whatever is standing in between you and the person God is renewing you to be, you must fully shed it.

Too often, when it comes to sin in our lives, we treat it like we treat our summer clothes.  When it’s winter, some of us put away our summer clothes.  They go in the back of the closet, or in a box in the attic, or in a drawer.  But when summer comes again, we pull them back out.  We never really get rid of them.  We just put them aside for a season.  The same is true with so many of the sins we struggle with.  We enter a season in which we get really serious about holiness.  So we take off that sin, fold it up, and put it away.  But we don’t throw it away.  We don’t toss it out.  We put it someplace where, when the time is right and we’re no longer so focused on holiness, we can pull it back out.  We can wear that sin once more.

But Paul’s saying that if you want to experience real renewal, you’ve got to fully shed that sin.  You’ve got to take it off and throw it away never to be worn again.  You’ve got to rip it off and remove it so far from you that you could never find it even if you wanted to.

And this morning, that’s exactly what some of us need to do.  You’ve been playing around with some sin.  You’ve been toying with stopping it.  But you’ve not really gotten serious about it.  Your short temper.  Your filthy language.  Your pornography.  Your selfishness.  Your verbal abuse.  Your gossiping.  Your backbiting.  And this morning Paul is calling you to shed that sin like a pair of clothes you never want to see again.  He’s calling you to get serious about this and get rid once and for all.

But Paul uses even stronger language in vs. 5: ⁵ Put to death therefore what is earthly in you… There is no uncertainty in this language.  Paul’s saying “Don’t play with sin.  Don’t just fight sin.  Kill it.  Murder it.  Beat the life out of it.”  In other words Paul calls us to to fully slay this sin.

But the problem is that we too often are unwilling to slay the sin in our lives.  In his book The Great Divorce C. S. Lewis writes about this.[3] He describes a human who finds himself in heaven.  The man was called a Ghost.  On his shoulder sat a red lizard, symbolizing the sin in his life.  Lewis writes:  “What sat on his shoulder was a little red lizard, and it was twitching its tail like a whip and whispering things in his ear. As we caught sight of him he turned his head to the reptile with a snarl of impatience. “Shut up, I tell you!” he said. It wagged its tail and continued to whisper to him. He ceased snarling, and presently began to smile. Then he turned and started to limp westward, away from the mountains.  “Off so soon?” said a voice.  The speaker was more or less human in shape but larger than a man, and so bright that I could hardly look at him. His presence smote on my eyes and on my body too (for there was heat coming from him as well as light) like the morning sun at the beginning of a tyrannous summer day.  “Yes. I’m off,” said the Ghost. “Thanks for all your hospitality. But it’s no good, you see. I told this little chap,” (here he indicated the lizard), “that he’d have to be quiet if he came—which he insisted on doing. Of course his stuff won’t do here: I realize that. But he won’t stop. I shall just have to go home.”  ‘Would you like me to make him quiet?” said the flaming Spirit—an angel, as I now understood.  “Of course I would,” said the Ghost.  “Then I will kill him,” said the Angel, taking a step forward.  “Oh-ah-look out! You’re burning me. Keep away,” said the Ghost, retreating.  “Don’t you want him killed?”  “You didn’t say anything about killing him at first. I hardly meant to bother you with anything so drastic as that.”  “It’s the only way,” said the Angel, whose burning hands were now very close to the lizard. “Shall I kill it?”  “Well, that’s a further question. I’m quite open to consider it, but it’s a new point, isn’t it? I mean, for the moment I was only thinking about silencing it because up here—well, it’s so…embarrassing.”  “May I kill it?”  “Well, there’s time to discuss that later.”  “There is no time. May I kill it?”  “Please, I never meant to be such a nuisance. Please—really—don’t bother. Look! It’s gone to sleep of its own accord. I’m sure it’ll be all right now. Thanks ever so much.”  “May I kill it?”  “Honestly, I don’t think there’s the slightest necessity for that. I’m sure I shall be able to keep it in order now. I think the gradual process would be far better than killing it.”  “The gradual process is of no use at all.”  “Don’t you think so? Well, I’ll think over what you’ve said very carefully. I honestly will. In fact I’d let you kill it now, but as a matter of fact I’m not feeling frightfully well today. It would be silly to do it now. I’d need to be in good health for the operation. Some other day, perhaps.”  “There is no other day. All days are present now.”  “Get back! You’re burning me. How can I tell you to kill it? You’d kill me if you did.”  “It is not so.”  “Why, you’re hurting me now.”  “I never said it wouldn’t hurt you. I said it wouldn’t kill you.”  “Oh, I know. You think I’m a coward. But it isn’t that. Really it isn’t. I say! Let me run back by tonight’s bus and get an opinion from my own doctor. I’ll come again the first moment I can.”

Can’t we hear ourselves in this man?  We try to keep our sin quiet so it won’t disturb the people around us.  We punish the sin by taking him home because he’s not behaving.  But when it comes to killing it, well, that’s too drastic.  We’ll think about that later.  We’re sure we can keep it in check.  No need for violence.  And we just can’t bring ourselves to do whatever it takes to deal a death blow to our red lizard of sin.

But Paul is telling you this morning that if you truly wish to experience renewal, there’s only one thing that works: death.  You’ve got to do whatever it’s going to take to kill your sin.  If it means quitting your job, do it.  If it means changing schools, do it.  If it means ending a relationship, do it.  If it means losing sleep or losing money, do it.  If it means never getting on the Internet again, do it.  If it means never watching TV again, do it.  If it means cutting yourself completely and totally off from the wrong crowd, do it.  Nothing is too drastic.  Nothing is too radical.  Nothing is too costly.  Paul is asking you to identify a sin that is getting in between you and God.  And he’s telling you to kill it.  Murder it.  Slay it.  Don’t just hurt it.  Don’t just punish it.  Don’t just battle it.  Kill it.  Slay it.  Fully and completely.

So ask yourself, What sin is keeping you from God, keeping you from being the person God is renewing you to be?  And what would it take to kill that sin?  Not maim it.  But kill it.  What do you need to do to deal with this sin in a deadly way?

What I want to urge you to do today is to make a decision to kill that sin.  Make a decision this morning that you are going to put that sin to death.  As this year begins, decide this morning that you’re going to do whatever it takes to slay that sin.  [Life Center - And as a way of helping you visualize that commitment, I want to encourage you to do something this morning.  Grab one of the blank sheets from the back of the chair in front of you.  Write on it some sin you are struggling with.  And while we are singing, come up and drop that paper into this casket as a way of demonstrating your desire to kill that sin.]

Each Sunday our elders are available for prayer and counsel at the Shepherd’s Corner.  If you’re struggling to put a sin to death, I urge you to visit with some of our shepherds after this service is over.

[2] Rebecca Pippert, Hope Has Its Reasons (InterVarsity Press, 2001), 31-32.

[3] C. S. Lewis, The Great Divorce (HarperOne, 1946), 106-111.

Longing to Listen

A former member of our congregation stopped by our church office recently.  “What’s going on?” I asked her.  “Well,” she said, “I finally retired.  But now I’m not sure what to do.  I guess I’m in a season of discernment.  I’m trying to listen to God and discover what he wants me to do next.”

In some ways, her description of her life-stage fits many of us.  For those who are truly seeking a more significant spiritual life, listening seems to be the one commonality.  We’re listening for God’s guidance in our work.  We’re listening for God’s leadership in our relationships.  We’re listening for God’s direction in major decisions.  We’re listening for God’s answers to circumstances that puzzle us.  For more and more of us, life with Jesus is a life of listening.

In his book The Power of a Whisper Bill Hybels focuses on about twenty individuals in the Bible who heard God in a distinct way.[i] These include Adam and Eve, Abraham, Jacob, Moses, Balaam, Joshua, Samuel, Job, Zechariah, Joseph, Mary, Jesus, Philip, Peter, and Paul.  Each was blessed with direct interaction with and instruction from God.  Each heard from the Lord.  Many of us long for this very thing.  We hunger for a fresh and living word from the One who made us and loves us.

Hearing by Reading

Thankfully, this craving can be satisfied through the meditative reading of Scripture.  Marjorie Thompson calls this “spiritual reading”:

“Spiritual reading is reflective and prayerful.  It is concerned not with speed or volume but with depth and receptivity.  That is because the purpose of spiritual reading is to open ourselves to how God may be speaking to us in and through any particular text.  The manner of spiritual reading is like drinking in the words of a love letter or pondering the meaning of a poem.  It is not like skittering over the surface of a popular magazine or plowing through a computer manual.  We are seeking not merely information but formation.”[ii]

The meditative reading of Scripture is one of the most promising ways to perceive the hushed voice of God.  It is based on a singular conviction: God still speaks.  He is not mute.  He not silent.  God has not lost his voice.  We have lost our ears.  Just as he did to Adam, Moses, and Mary, so God still addresses any person who humbly seeks an audience with him in the pages of his word.  He may express himself in many other ways.  But most certainly does so through the words of the Bible.

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[ii]Marjorie Thompson, Soul Feast (Westminster John Knox, 1985), 18 (emphasis added).