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Uses of the Law

Although I spent the first 20+ years of my life as a Lutheran and have continued to hold true to many Lutheran ideals (including the benefits of folk music, beer, and the love of a good woman), I’ve only recently become aware of the dispute about the valid uses of the Law (that would be the old Jewish Law of Moses, including all 10 commandments and whichever other laws people tend to think are important at the time).

Lutheran (Formula of Concord)

The Lutheran document “The Formula of Concord” enumerates three uses in Article VI, saying that the “Law was given to men for three reasons…”  These are that:

1. “thereby outward discipline might be maintained against wild, disobedient men”

2. “men thereby may be led to the knowledge of their sins”

and the infamous 3rd use:

3. “after they are regenerate … they might … have a fixed rule according to which they are to regulate and direct their whole life.”

Now, the Formula of Concord was developed several years after Luther died, at the direction of Elector August of Saxony. Luther himself never taught 3 uses of the law, and probably would have thrown a fit over number three, which is clearly outside of and contrary to anything Paul taught about the law (the law causes sin to increase, the written code kills, yada, yada).   But, we’ll come back to this.

Calvin

Calvin, who in my opinion tried as best as he could to undo the essence of the Lutheran reformation, also taught 3 uses of the law, pedagogical, civil, and didactic.  His three uses, however, seem to misconstrue the essence of Paul.  His first use, pedagogical or “to tutor,” is of course straight from Paul, but he seems to miss the point. The civil use, to keep people from sinning, also shows a clear misunderstanding of Paul, who as I’ve already pointed out clearly said that the law causes sin to increase. By the 3rd use, didactic, Calvin meant that the Mosaic law can be used to teach and provoke people to good works. This concept, of course, is not found in the New Testament either.  So, I’ll just ignore Calvin for the remainder of my thinking about uses of the law (it is my blog, after all).

 Back to Luther(an)

While most Lutherans (especially those liberal ones) only recognize the first two uses of the law as found in the “Formula,” some such as the Missouri Synod are champions of the 3rd use of the law, at times seemingly in preference to the other two. Now I’d be happy for some wise MS Lutheran to show me I’m wrong on this, but this is what I’ve seemed to find among the Concordia crowd.

The Real  3rd Use of the Law

Now, I’m going to get a touch sarcastic here, but I really don’t mean to offend anyone. I’m just trying to raise an issue and make a point.  It seems to me that among some 3rd Users, the real 3rd use of the law is to be able to hammer it over the head of someone else.  Seriously, I’ve seen some of the most vile, judgmental, and downright mean comments on the internet coming from these nice, grace-loving Lutherans who just love to be able to say “I’m not as sinful as you.”

What’s up with that?

I’ve thought about this for months, and keep seeing it again and again, and it really, really bothers me.  This kind of attitude is no different than what Jesus talked about in Luke 18:10-14. Is grace just for us, or should we perhaps spread it around just a bit?  Or is grace only good for polite or socially-acceptable sins?

It is, okay, by the way, to disagree with other Christians, even to say, “I’m sorry, but I believe you’re a heretic.” Paul himself set an example for this. However, ad hominem, dehumanizing attacks are a different story. As the great doctor once said, “a person’s a person, no matter how small.”

What Paul Didn’t Teach

Paul never taught that the Law was an acceptable tool to use to pronounce judgment on others, and Jesus certainly didn’t.  Paul also didn’t teach that being justified by grace made us better than anyone else.

So What Did Paul Teach About the Law?

That’s a very good question.  In my mind (an often scary place), neither of the above lists really hits the mark. For one thing, I don’t think Paul ever meant for there to be such a list. Paul used examples to make points, like Jesus did with his parables and sayings. One day Jesus would say, “The Kingdom is like this” and another day he would say, “the kingdom is like that.”  They aren’t competing ideas, and they aren’t mutually exclusive or definitive. They’re examples. I don’t think Paul ever intended his letters to be seen as an exhaustive, definitive analysis of the law; however, taken as a whole, I think we can come up with a pretty good picture of Paul’s thinking.

My Plan

So, I am seriously considering going through Paul’s letters and discussing his various comments about the law. I may get sidetracked or bushwhacked, but at the moment this is my plan.  It could be interesting. Really.

 

 

Written on 11 January 2012 by me under Law & Gospel, The Gospel Uncensored, Theological Musings with 2 Comments

The Slavery Issue: Did Paul support slavery?

Each one should remain in the situation which he was in when God called him. Were you a slave when you were called? Don’t let it trouble you—although if you can gain your freedom, do so.  For he who was a slave when he was called by the Lord is the Lord’s freedman; similarly, he who was a free man when he was called is Christ’s slave. You were bought at a price; do not become slaves of men. Brothers, each man, as responsible to God, should remain in the situation God called him to.  (1 Cor. 7:20-24 NIV)

While I have never met a Christian who taught or believed (to my knowledge, anyway) that the Bible supported slavery, this is a common point of contention for many anti-Christian folks who claim that Christianity is an evil religion for supporting slavery.

Certainly there are those Christians in the past who used this passage to justify slavery, such as in the American South. This is, of course, unfortunate, to say the least—especially since this seems to be based on a mistranslation of the Greek, combined with another of Augustine’s heresies.

I recently read a paper by S. Scott Bartchy of the UCLA Dept. of History that builds a pretty good case for the position that the Greek word translated as “situation” or “condition” had no such meaning until Martin Luther mistranslated it into German. According to Bartchy and others he mentions, the word’s only meaning is “calling,” in the context of being called by God.  Bartchy claims that Luther’s mistranslation was intentional, to defend against a popular notion that God’s call meant a call to become a monk or priest (which is how Luther ended up a monk—he was studying to e a lawyer). Luther wanted to reinforce that we can be called to serve in whatever our current occupation happens to be.

While the context certainly seems consistent with Luther’s alleged mistranslation, Paul clearly encourages slaves to become free if given the opportunity, consistent with “owe no many anything.” Bartchy believes that rather than supporting slavery, Paul is making the point that you don’t have to become anything else in order to accept God’s call. You don’t have to become free, although it’s a good thing if you can obtain your freedom in a non-rebellious manner. You can be a good Christian slave (consider the impact Joseph had in Egypt); so accept God’s call, even though your circumstances aren’t ideal:

24. To be sure, Paul along with almost all of his contemporaries apparently did not imagine that slavery as such could be eliminated from his world. Nevertheless, Paul did not want any enslaved persons who had become Christ-followers to think that their legal-social status could influence negatively their relationship to God or their warm welcome into the “body of Christ.” The key question was: who did they think they were? It is a question of their primary identity. For Paul, being “in Christ” trumps all other definers.

Bartchy also points out that while Paul didn’t support slavery, Augustine did:

26. Augustine explained that God instituted slavery as punishment for the offense of Adam‟s original sin. In sharp contrast, Paul never connected this institution either with the will of God as punishment for sin…or with the orders of creation.

Augustine’s thoughts on slavery are, again, unfortunate, as are the consequences of Luther’s translation error, especially since so few people think for themselves—including, it seems, Bible translators.

Of course, I am not an expert in NT Greek, and I haven’t researched this issue. Bartchy could be stark, raving mad, for all I know.  If he’s correct, that at least removes one more excuse for people to write off Christianity.

Written on 05 September 2011 by me under Faith, Science & Doubt, Theological Musings with 1 Comment

The Heresy of Charles Finney

Among American evangelicals, Finney stands as something of an icon—a paragon of modern evangelism, a hero to folks like Jerry Falwell and Billy Graham. While I am by no means an expert on Finney or early American revivals (I was raised Lutheran, after all), it has been my impression that Finney actually contributed to the loss of the real gospel (Gal 1:6,7) among many protestant groups.

And yes, I’ve never been one to avoid controversy.

Finney is probably the best-known figure of the 2nd “Great Awakening” (the 1st GA featured folks like Jonathan Edwards, who I’ll save for a future post).  Finney was a Presbyterian, though very much a non-Calvinist (this is probably due in part to the influence of the 1st Great Awakening, with its emphasis on free will).

Finney’s theology appears to have been all over the place, but he was definitely in the Arminian camp, and possibly even Pelagian, holding that man had total control to choose good or evil. Furthermore, sin caused man to lose his justification, resulting in what I call “eternal insecurity”:

“Whenever he sins, he must, for the time being, cease to be holy. This is self-evident. Whenever he sins, he must be condemned; he must incur the penalty of the law of God … The Christian, therefore, is justified no longer than he obeys, and must be condemned when he disobeys or Antinomianism is true … In these respects, then, the sinning Christian and the unconverted sinner are upon precisely the same ground (p. 46, Systematic Theology).”

While Finney claimed to believe in justification by faith, faith for Finney seemed to be a human work. So according to Finney, whether or not you were “saved” appears to depend upon whether you had just sinned or not, or if you repented, whether you had repented sincerely enough.

Dr. Michael Horton, a Presbyterian (and, I believe, a Calvinist), has written a critical analysis of Finney in The Disturbing Legacy of Charles Finney. He points out that Finney didn’t believe in original sin (and therefore Total Depravity was out of the question), and then discusses Finney’s unorthodox views of the atonement:

The first thing we must note about the atonement, Finney says, is that Christ could not have died for anyone else’s sins than his own. His obedience to the law and his perfect righteousness were sufficient to save him, but could not legally be accepted on behalf of others. That Finney’s whole theology is driven by a passion for moral improvement is seen on this very point: “If he [Christ] had obeyed the Law as our substitute, then why should our own return to personal obedience be insisted upon as a sine qua non of our salvation” (p.206)? In other words, why would God insist that we save ourselves by our own obedience if Christ’s work was sufficient? The reader should recall the words of St. Paul in this regard, “I do not nullify the grace of God’, for if justification comes through the law, then Christ died for nothing.” It would seem that Finney’s reply is one of agreement. The difference is, he has no difficulty believing both of those premises.

That is not entirely fair, of course, because Finney did believe that Christ died for something—not for someone, but for something. In other words, he died for a purpose, but not for people. The purpose of that death was to reassert God’s moral government and to lead us to eternal life by example, as Adam’s example excited us to sin. Why did Christ die? God knew that “The atonement would present to creatures the highest possible motives to virtue. Example is the highest moral influence that can be exerted … If the benevolence manifested in the atonement does not subdue the selfishness of sinners, their case is hopeless” (p.209). Therefore, we are not helpless sinners who need to be redeemed, but wayward sinners who need a demonstration of selflessness so moving that we will be excited to leave off selfishness.

Not only did Finney believe that the “moral influence” theory of the atonement was the chief way of understanding the cross; he explicitly denied the substitutionary atonement, which

“assumes that the atonement was a literal payment of a debt, which we have seen does not consist with the nature of the atonement … It is true, that the atonement, of itself, does not secure the salvation of any one” (p.217).

Then there is the matter of applying redemption. Throwing off Reformation orthodoxy, Finney argued strenuously against the belief that the new birth is a divine gift, insisting that “regeneration consists in the sinner changing his ultimate choice, intention, preference; or in changing from selfishness to love or benevolence,” as moved by the moral influence of Christ’s moving example (p.224). “Original sin, physical regeneration, and all their kindred and resulting dogmas, are alike subversive of the gospel, and repulsive to the human intelligence” (p.236).
[bold type mine]

While I disagree on points with Horton (as I am not a Calvinist), I do respect him as a theologian and have benefited from his thinking. Finney raises a few points which may have some merit, such as questioning the penal substitution theory or the Calvinist doctrine of perseverance. However, Finney’s theology—such as placing our salvation in our own hands rather than in God’s—is clearly heretical.

Then, there is Finney’s emphasis on personal experience rather than on objective truth (the Word of God), etc. Someday it may prove to be an interesting analysis. But, not today. However, if someone has a contrary point of view, I’d be happy to consider it.

 

Written on 14 May 2011 by me under Good News, The Gospel Uncensored, Theological Musings with 7 Comments

Evidence that the Gospels are Eyewitness Accounts

The video posted below caught my attention last night. I clicked on it just to see what it was about, and completely hooked me—I ended up watching the whole hour.

There have been a number of voices recently, such as my favorite target Bart Ehrman, who have claimed that the Gospels are essentially forgeries, written in order to mislead people into believing in Christianity. On the other hand, there is a growing body of evidence to support the position that the Gospels are actually quite reliable, based on eyewitness accounts.

Dr. Peter Willliams is a member of the Faculty of Divinity at Cambridge, among other things. And, he’s quite an engaging speaker, with a Ricky Gervais-like sense of humor (without the nastiness).  More importantly, he presents some pretty compelling information based on recent scholarship that significantly bolsters the “eyewitness” position. The lecture was presented March 5, 2011:

And here is the Q & A session that followed:

I like his approach. This is not “proof,” but is significant evidence in the case for authenticity.

Written on 26 April 2011 by me under Theological Musings with 1 Comment

Ross Douthat’s Case for Hell

From Ross Douthat in the NY Times Opinion Pages:

But the more important factor in hell’s eclipse, perhaps, is a peculiar paradox of modernity. As our lives have grown longer and more comfortable, our sense of outrage at human suffering — its scope, and its apparent randomness — has grown sharper as well. The argument that a good deity couldn’t have made a world so rife with cruelty is a staple of atheist polemic, and every natural disaster inspires a round of soul-searching over how to reconcile with God’s omnipotence with human anguish.

…

Doing away with hell, then, is a natural way for pastors and theologians to make their God seem more humane. The problem is that this move also threatens to make human life less fully human.

Douthat makes some points that are worthy of consideration, whether or not you agree with him.

 

Written on 25 April 2011 by me under Theological Musings with 4 Comments

Turns out I might agree with Karl Barth, kind of

I just found out that in that that great theological fondue pot that is my mind, I have come to a conclusion that is shared with Karl Barth, kind of. (I guess that means that if I’m a heretic, at least I’m a semi-respectable heretic.)  For those who don’t know of Barth, he was a Swiss Reformed theologian that I have many disagreements with (being he was Reformed, for one thing). But, he may have come up with an analysis of election (the belief that God chooses who he will save) that fits in with some of my own thoughts.

Election, free will, and all that jazz

Part of the whole free will / predestination issue, as Philip Cary explains in the audio series I’m listening to, is that popular views on the issue eventually have to conclude that if God did indeed predestine people, then God has also chosen not to save some people. This is a doctrine known as double predestination. In other words, in the event you’re not a Christian, there’s a good chance that God didn’t choose you anyway (so apparently you are in a kind of agreement with God on this point).

The Gospel then is only “good news” (what the word gospel means) for some. It’s obviously very bad news for those who aren’t chosen (at least from the point of view of those predestined for salvation). And, since free will seems kind of a bust (as I discussed in my prior post), then we’re stuck with this Good News/bad news situation.

Who was elected?

Karl Barth proposed that both Luther and Calvin (and Augustine) were wrong in their interpretation of the Jacob and Esau story as discussed in Romans 9:6-14, which is a key part to any discussion on being chosen. The prophecy about the twins (Gen. 25:23), Barth said, was never meant to be about Jacob and Esau personally, but about their descendants the Jews and the not-Jews. Consider the prophecy:

“Two nations are in your womb,
and two peoples from within you will be separated;
one people will be stronger than the other,
and the older will serve the younger.”

Nations. According to Barth, election is always about Israel (the original nation, not necessarily the current U.N.-created state). This reading of the Jacob-Esau story fits incredibly well with a lot of what Jesus and Paul discuss in the NT.

This removes this passage from any discussion of individual salvation and destiny, and also moves the discussion into one of purpose. As we see in the last line of the verse, it is Israel’s calling to serve non-Israel.

What it means to be chosen

Over the last few years as I have been reading and studying, I had started to wonder if we have misunderstood what it means to be chosen. As Tevye pointed out in Fiddler on the Roof, it’s not necessarily a blessing to be chosen. In fact, to think it is a blessing might be to miss the point completely.

What if the point of being chosen was not to bless those who are chosen, but for them to bless others? Israel would not have been elected to be blessed, but rather as a vehicle to bless everyone else. In other words, Israel was to not only be a custodian of God’s promises but a messenger or tool for God to achieve his global agenda. In this way all nations will be blessed through Israel (Gen. 18:18), and provides a new context for “I will bless those who bless you (Gen. 27:29).” Israel was chosen, so that you and I (assuming you’re a gentile) could be blessed; a Good News/Good News scenario.

Back to Barth

So, according to Barth, Augustine and therefore both Luther and Calvin were wrong about election, both in scope and purpose, and I think he makes a compelling argument (from what little I know—Barth also believed that the only one who was truly “elect” was Christ, which I have a harder time with). I can see why Barth has been accused of leaning in a universalist direction, as his interpretation of election removes any notion that God has predestined some for damnation. The non-elect are not the damned; rather, they are those for whom the blessings given to Israel (and now the church) are intended. This, however, doesn’t seem to rule out the option that both the elect or the non-elect could have the option of rejecting God’s calling and blessing.

This gives a different spin to the statement, “Many are called, but few are chosen.”

My grasp on these issues is tenuous at best, but I will keep struggling through. It’s a good thing I enjoy theology. As the church lady character on SNL might say, “Well isn’t that special.”

 

Written on 17 April 2011 by me under Theological Musings with 7 Comments

The Limitations of Free Will

“Mankind has a free will; but it is free to milk cows and to build houses, nothing more.” ~Martin Luther

Contrary to Luther, I believe in free will. I always have. It’s possible, I guess, that I was designed to believe in free will, but I don’t think so. When Peter says, “His divine power has given us everything we need for a godly life through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness (2 Peter 1:3),” I believe him. I believe this means that God has given us what we need to make good choices, and the free will to make really stupid choices. For the most part, the quality of our lives are dependent upon our choices (and, of course, the choices of others).

Obviously, there are those who God has chosen for specific purposes, like Abraham, Jacob, John the Baptist, Paul, and so on. Oh, and the Jews. And, for that matter, us. But, within that destiny, we have a certain amount of choice (not that it did Jonah any good). While I believe (perhaps in vain) in free will, it is clear that the Bible also teaches that we are predestined. This tension has never bothered me; it merely indicates that either I don’t know enough, or that I actually do know enough [to recognize the tension].

Saved by what?

The question of free will becomes more important as we discuss salvation. Are we predestined to be saved, or does our salvation completely depend upon the rhetorical skills of an evangelist (with the help of the Holy Spirit, of course) and our decision to believe or not to believe?

Our reaction to this question often seems to come down to our inability to acknowledge that God might not have to ask us whether to save us or not—it’s not so much a theological issue so much as an emotional one. The mere concept of not having free will is offensive to our modern Western sensibilities.

Face it—no one asked you.

Last week I started thinking about this and realized something very key: no one ever asked me if I wanted to be born in the first place. This is my birth I’m talking about, and I had no input into it whatsoever. Nada. Not just where I’d be born or into what conditions I’d be born, but just being born. I didn’t even have a say about whether I was a boy or a girl. So, considering how little I had to say about my existence so far, how can I build any sort of argument at all that God should ask for my opinion concerning what happens next? (As Paul said, “what right does the clay have to talk back to the potter?”)

The Bible—Jesus himself, for that matter—says a lot of things about those who believe being saved. But then we also have Jesus statement in John 6:44, “No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws them, and I will raise them up at the last day.” Our belief, it seems, is at best a response to what God is already doing; our free will—when it comes to salvation—may merely be “going along for the ride.”

I guess the logical conclusion is that when all is said and done, it doesn’t really matter whether I believe in free will or not; so far, God hasn’t asked my opinions about too many things.

Written on 14 April 2011 by me under Theological Musings with 9 Comments

Faith, or faith?

I’ve been listening to Phillip Cary’s series Luther: Gospel, Law and Reformation from The Teaching Company.  As I’ve said before, I was raised Lutheran (what used to be the LCA Synod). When I was 12 or so, I learned Reformation history as part of my confirmation classes (Can you believe 2 years of study in order to be confirmed?  What an amazing education!). But, though I remember some of it (the Diet of Worms always stands out), 12 was a long time ago.

Although I’ve read some here or there over the years (and watched the movie Luther a few times), I am just now getting what I feel is a half decent grasp of what really went on during the Reformation and the theological issues involved. And, besides understanding Luther better, I’m also getting a bit better grasp on Calvin, Zwingli and the other heretics Reformed crowd.

We are not to rest on our faith

While C and Z agreed with the Lutherans on the three major solas (sola fide, sola gratia, sola Scriptura), Lutheran theology sets itself apart by maintaining that even though we are saved by faith alone (sola fide), we are not to depend on our faith.

Luther’s thinking here is, I think, nothing short of brilliant. If we somehow start to think that our faith saves us, it raises the question, “how much faith is enough?”  Did we really believe, or did we only think we believed? Perhaps we should get baptized again, just in case. This could go on indefinitely as we try to determine if our faith was good enough.

For Luther, the point was that we can never believe enough. What is important is that God’s word—which is external to us—is true, and we simply have to believe it. It is God’s Word that saves us, we simply have to put our faith in that, not in our own ability to “have faith.” In talking about baptism, Luther wrote,

We are not to base baptism on faith. Whoever allows himself to be baptized on the strength of his faith is not only uncertain, but also an idolater who denies Christ, for he trusts in and builds on something of his own rather than on God’s word alone.

This concept permeates all of Luther’s thinking. Rather than placing importance on some inward decision or emotion, what is truly important is what God said.

Upon which Rock?

Our feelings change. There are days when I feel way more “saved” than on other days. Some days I feel full of faith. Other times I may be plagued with doubt. So what has changed?  Nothing, except my emotions. Do I depend on the sincerity of my prayers, or upon God’s Word that Christ has died for my sins?

In response to Peter’s proclamation, “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God,” Jesus said, “… upon this rock, I will build my church.”  Peter, obviously, was never an unwavering rock—at least according to what we know in the New Testament. The “rock” is the unwavering reality of God’s Word as spoken here by Peter.

Luther seems to have been a lot like Peter, up one day and down the next. I expect they both finally discovered the truth: What is unchanging is God’s Word, and upon this rock, we can have faith.

Written on 13 April 2011 by me under Theological Musings with 4 Comments

Rob Bell’s confession of faith

This is worth sharing, considering all of the hoopla about Rob Bell’s book Love Wins:

Thanks to Scot McKnight for sharing this.

Written on 08 April 2011 by me under Politics/Current Events, Theological Musings with 2 Comments

Orthodox hell and the Scarlet Rob Bell

The Eastern (Orthodox) church has been thinking about hell a lot longer than anyone else, simply because they’ve been around the longest. Yes, there were Christians before Augustine. However, very few western evangelicals (of the post-liturgical variety) care about what the early church (post-Canon) thinks. After all, they didn’t have the benefit of the Enlightenment, and they didn’t all jump into line behind Augustine (who falls into the category of “Nice guy, but possibly a heretic”).

Yes, I’m being facetious.

What the Orthodox believe about hell

Apparently one or two people in the west are becoming interested in what the Orthodox believe about hell, possibly looking for more votes. Scot McKnight actually references a book of Orthodox theology in his post today, Christ the Conqueror of Hell: The Descent into Hades from an Orthodox Perspective by Archbishop Hilarion Alfeyev. I confess I’m not familiar with the Archbishop, but it sounds quite interesting. I like reading Orthodox theology; it certainly provides a fresh perspective.

McKnight provides some notes taken from the book (bullet-points are mine, for the sake of readability):

  • Irenaeus is typical in seeing both the descent and a release of the patriarchs, prophets and saints from the Old Testament period.
  • Hippolytus: John the Baptist also descended to preach to those in hades.
  • Clement of Alexandria: Christ descended and preached to the saints and to the Gentiles who lived outside the true faith. Hell for him was a place of reformation. Origen is like Clement, but emphasizes human choice.
  • Issue: how to define the various terms, but many saw places. That is, there’s Abraham’s bosom, and hell, and hades, and a prison.
  • Athanasius: leans, at times, toward the universal redemption or release from death. The famous text “Christus patiens,” attributed by some to Gregory Nazianzen, poetically sketches a universal release of the dead through the descent. Cyril of Alexandria follows this line of thinking; so does Maximus the Confessor.
  • Many are somewhat ambivalent or clearly believe Jesus’ release was only for the saints, and an example is St John Chrysostom. John Damascene emphasizes human choice by those in the realm of the dead and so not all are liberated. St Jerome is in this camp of saying at times that all are liberated but other times not all are liberated.
  • A decisive voice in this issue, especially in the West, was Augustine who believed in both a descent but not all in a “second chance”. For Augustine, death was final and the only ones in hades who were released were those who were predestined in God’s elective grace. What is interesting, though, is that Augustine was clearly battling many who did think Christ emptied hades and death and hell of all its inhabitants. Gregory the Great completed the Augustinian perspective.
  • Alfayev emphasizes that the Eastern fathers did not spell things out the way the Western fathers did.

It’s an interesting post. As I think I have mentioned here in the last couple of weeks, the Orthodox generally believe that everyone will end up in God’s presence; however, those opposed to God will have a negative experience (not unlike that painted by CS Lewis in The Great Divorce).

The Scarlett Rob Bell

Rob Bell, meanwhile, continues to get roasted from nearly all sides. Even Lutherans are condemning him. So, this morning I wrote him a little poem:

Everybody’s picking on poor Rob Bell.
However, his book will surely sell.
But is he in heaven, or is he in hell?
That [darned] illusive Mr. Bell.

To more accurately parody The Scarlett Pimpernel, you could change it to:

They judge him here, they judge him there,
But his book is selling everywhere.
Is he in heaven, or is he in hell?
That [darned] illusive Mr. Bell.

Or not.

Written on 16 March 2011 by me under Exploring the Twain, Humor and/or Sarcasm, Theological Musings with 2 Comments