Field notes on life and mission with God after Christendom
All the recent brouhaha over hell, universalism, etc. brought about by Rob Bell’s new book got me thinking about a little theological idea I’ve been playing with for awhile. It’s really just a undeveloped, niggling idea I’ve had that I want to throw out here on my blog to see what y’all think.
Here it is:
What if God’s wrath is simply a pre-emptive strike on the degrading power of sin?
My friend Jason Coker just put a devastating parable up on his blog. I have reprinted it in its entirety. Go to Jason’s blog to discuss, post comments, etc.
Once there was a little girl who was playing in the garden when she suddenly realized she was hungry. Immediately, she went looking for her father who was at work in the fields.
“Father,” she said, “I’m hungry. Will you give me something to eat?”
“First you must tell me why you are hungry and how I am able to feed you.”
“I’m hungry because I need to eat, and you’re able to feed me because you’re my father.”
“That’s only partly true. Go to your room and come back when you know the whole truth.”
So the little girl went away a little hurt, confused and still hungry. Later that night while her father ate dinner at a table filled with deliciously prepared meal, she came to him again.
“Father,” she said, “I’m hungry. Will you please give me something to eat?”
“First you must tell me why you are hungry and how I am able to feed you.”
“I am hungry because my stomach is empty, and you are able to feed me because you grow food in our fields.”
“What you have said is more true than before, but there is still much you do not understand. Go to bed and come to me when you know the whole truth.”
Every day the little girl grew hungrier and weaker than the day before, and every day she begged and her father for mercy. Yet she still did not fully understanding why she needed it, or how he was able to give it. So every day he turned her away.
Several weeks passed and eventually the little girl died of starvation. At her death bed the father lamented, “If only you knew that your hunger wasn’t a temporary problem, but that you were born without the ability to sustain yourself. If only you knew that your food came by the seeds of the earth, the rain from the sky, the rays of the sun, and the work of my hands. Then, you could have admitted your brokenness and weakness in full humility, and truly realized your utter dependence on my work and sacrifice.
“Then, you would have been worthy of my mercy.”
What a great premise:
You’ve just met a young American adult who is utterly irreligious. Having been raised by agnostic parents, their family never attended any kind of religious gathering, and – although they understand what “religion” is and have been exposed to different religious practitioners – they don’t really know anything about Jesus Christ or Christianity. But they’re curious, so – knowing you have something to do with Christianity – they ask you three simple questions:
Who is Jesus Christ?
What has he done?
Why does it matter?Please provide your simple, sincere, and conversational response in 300 words or less.
This was from an email I got from Jason Coker, who is curating a once-a-week series on his blog called 3 Questions About Jesus. I was really looking forward to participating in this project.
Today my entry in the series went up on Jason’s blog. Leave a comment over there if you want to interact about my entry. And thanks to Jason for putting this series together.
Check out this 3-minute clip from N.T. Wright talking about what’s actually important in Genesis. According to Wright, people who think the point of Genesis is to figure out how many days creation took and how young the earth is, etc, are completely missing the point. I agree with him. What do you think?
This is so good – from pastor/blogger Jared Wilson…
This is how staggeringly awesome the gospel of Jesus is.
Two sisters. One is a busybody, the other kinda poky. One rarely
Sabbaths; the other makes every day a Sabbath. The prescription for
both is focus on Jesus.
Two Americans. One is a practicing homosexual and proud of it. The
other is a practicing Baptist and proud of it. One trusts his feelings,
the other trusts his actions. Both are in desperate need of Jesus for
pretty much the same reason.
This is how wonderful the gospel of Jesus. It's the skeleton key for all of humanity.
Medicine doesn't work this way. You don't treat spina bifida with
drugs for leukemia. (At least, I don't think you do.) You don't give a
decongestant to a kid with athlete's foot. For every condition, there
is a specific treatment. Different symptoms, different fixes.
But the gospel isn't like that. It fixes everything.
We all exhibit a multitude of symptoms for our conditions, running
the gamut from self-indulgent immorality to self-satisfying morality.
Opposite ends of the spectrum and everywhere in between. Whatever your
symptoms, the gospel is the answer.
There is no problem, pain, or perniciousness outside the universe-spanning scope of the gospel.
The gospel carries with it resurrection power.
So Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female, rich or poor, smart
or dumb, well or sick, bad or good . . . the gospel is the power to
save for all who believe.
The gospel is the antidote to everything.
(ht: bob hyatt)
