http://www.patheos.com/community/jesuscreed/2011/04/21/exploring-love-wins-9/#more-15948
by Scot McKnight
April 21, 2011
Filed under: Universalism
God is Love, but that same God self-describes with “I am holy.” Yes, I agree — the witness of the Bible is that God is love, but how can we simply avoid God’s self-identifying words about holiness? And what does holiness say about some of the topics in this book? Can we simply dismiss the robust view of holiness at work in the Bible when it comes to descriptions of God? For some holiness is the defining attribute of God, for others it’s love. I don’t know why we get into such battles – both are true. God is holy and God is love, and God is lovingly holy and holy in his love. Holiness does not mean wrath; holiness means purity and moral perfection and utter differentness — the ineffability and the infinity of God. So I propose that there’s one expression in the Bible that puts these together in a way that needed more representation in this book: the God who is Jealous, the God whose zeal for his own glory is provoked when his people profane his Name and turn from him in sin. Jealousy and Love belong together and reveal the holy fiber at work in God’s love. Where is the jealousy of God in this book?
Rob says “We do ourselves great harm when we confuse the very essence of God, which is love, with the very real consequences of rejecting and resisting that love, which creates what we call hell” (177). Hell, in other words, is not part of God’s world — or connected to God. This problem isn’t this simple. The fact is that Rob believes in hell, and that means God has created a world in which hell can exist. Whether you say God made hell for sinners or whether you say humans make their own hell, you’ve got a God who is connected to hell. God made a world with consequences, and that means we are driven to connect God to the consequences, if only to say God made the possibility of such consequences. We need to ask what kind of God that is.
And I ask this to finish: Why the ridicule like this? “This is why Christians who talk the most about going to heaven while everybody else goes to hell don’t throw very good parties” (179). Those who believe love wins, and who believe God is love and who believe what we believe ought to matter ought not to ridicule others like this. The truth of the matter is that I’ve been to some mighty good parties by those hell-embracing folks and some bad parties at the homes of those don’t give a damn about hell.
by Scot McKnight
April 21, 2011
Filed under: Universalism
Of the problems Rob Bell wants to deal with in his new book, Love Wins: A Book About Heaven, Hell, and the Fate of Every Person Who Ever Lived, two of them are what God is like in some (distorted) presentations of the Christian message and the focused intent of “evangelism” or becoming a Christian on the part of (perhaps) many. Let’s finish off the last chp of this series with this prayer again:
O Lord, you have taught us that without love whatever we do is worth nothing:
Send your Holy Spirit and pour into my heart your greatest gift,
which is love, the true bond of peace and of all virtue,
without which whoever lives is accounted dead before you.
Grant this for the sake of your only Son Jesus Christ,
who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God,
now and for ever. Amen.†
Caricature and ridicule have a place in Christian rhetoric, if done well and done with the right intent. Rob caricatures a view of God at work in some understandings of the Christian message. Here’s how he says it: “Because if something is wrong with your God, if your God is loving one second and cruel the next [no one says God is cruel, but he has caricatured the God who judges to hell as cruel], if your God will punish people for all of eternity for sins committed in a few short years [this issue deserves more attention in this book and more attention by all of us], no amount of clever marketing or compelling language or good music or good coffee will be able to disguise that one, true, glaring untenable, unacceptable, awful reality” (175).
And then this: “So when the gospel is diminished [and it often is] to a question of whether nor not a person will ‘get to heaven’ [and just listen to so many warrants for evangelism and you will hear this], that reduces the good news to a ticket, a way to get past the bouncer and into the club” (178). I agree: “The good news is better than that.” Again, “When the gospel is understood primarily in terms of entrance rather than joyous participation…”. Yes, yes, I agree. Enough preachers and parents present the gospel this that it deserves caricature and ridicule.
These are the two primary problems at work in this chp, and probably in this book. We need to get our view of God right and we need to see what the gospel is designed to accomplish.
In this last chp he begins with the two sons and the father in the prodigal son story. His point is that the younger son had a story: that he was not worthy. The older son had another story: that he had slaved for his father, and that his father was not fair. And the father had yet another story: come to the party, you have always been with me, I will accept you. In other words, “I love you.” Three different stories, and the point of the parable is to see if they will accept the father’s story and not theirs.
There is a fundamental problem here: the younger son’s story was true — he had sinned, violently in fact, and he came to his senses, confessed his sin — in terms of not being worthy (and Jesus says that very thing in Luke 18 about someone he approves) — and found the father forgiving. Rob seems to me to cut the fabric of the story’s plot: fellowship, sin, realization, confession, and the discovery of the mercy of the father. The younger son’s story was true and it was in telling that truth that he found forgiveness. Until we tell the truth about ourselves we cannot face God.
And then this: “So when the gospel is diminished [and it often is] to a question of whether nor not a person will ‘get to heaven’ [and just listen to so many warrants for evangelism and you will hear this], that reduces the good news to a ticket, a way to get past the bouncer and into the club” (178). I agree: “The good news is better than that.” Again, “When the gospel is understood primarily in terms of entrance rather than joyous participation…”. Yes, yes, I agree. Enough preachers and parents present the gospel this that it deserves caricature and ridicule.
These are the two primary problems at work in this chp, and probably in this book. We need to get our view of God right and we need to see what the gospel is designed to accomplish.
In this last chp he begins with the two sons and the father in the prodigal son story. His point is that the younger son had a story: that he was not worthy. The older son had another story: that he had slaved for his father, and that his father was not fair. And the father had yet another story: come to the party, you have always been with me, I will accept you. In other words, “I love you.” Three different stories, and the point of the parable is to see if they will accept the father’s story and not theirs.
There is a fundamental problem here: the younger son’s story was true — he had sinned, violently in fact, and he came to his senses, confessed his sin — in terms of not being worthy (and Jesus says that very thing in Luke 18 about someone he approves) — and found the father forgiving. Rob seems to me to cut the fabric of the story’s plot: fellowship, sin, realization, confession, and the discovery of the mercy of the father. The younger son’s story was true and it was in telling that truth that he found forgiveness. Until we tell the truth about ourselves we cannot face God.
At the same time, the older son couldn’t bring himself to see the truth of his own condition, and so refused to join the party. The sons put on display what was at work in Luke 15:1-2: sinners (younger son) and the carping Pharisees and scribes (older son). Again, a good example of his emphasis on choice and freedom, which are at the heart of love (wins). I don’t see three stories with one being true, but two stories — the younger son’s story which was true and the father’s story meshed perfectly, while the older son’s story was false and didn’t mesh with the father’s story. It is tragic to miss the appropriateness of the younger son’s self-perception because it magnifies the gracious, forgiving, celebrating love of the father. In spite of the kid’s sin, the father loved him. And because he came to the father, he enjoyed the party.
Many do suffer from bad views of God and of bad views of the gospel, which he calls the gospel of goats. God is not a slave driver. The gospel is not simply about entrance but about enjoyment … he’s right about this, and too few presentations of the gospel are shaped in the direction that they can lead to this (except the health and wealth folks). The parable of the prodigal son is an excellent place to tell this story of God’s gracious love and offer of fellowship through forgiveness.
And again Rob trots out the all too familiar (and simplistic) stereotype that God punishes Jesus, and while I know some hear this sort of thing, one can’t simply wipe out Romans 3:26 without at least doing some serious thinking: God doesn’t — according to this verse that says God is both just and the justifier — just wink at sin or wipe it away without thinking, but God must do right when he forgives. The way the Bible puts it is that God has to be righteous in forgiveness or it is an unjust forgiveness. Yes, God is the rescuer. But the way the Bible is that God both absorbs sin and injustice — “he who knew no sin was made sin on our behalf” — and forgives. We are talking about God’s self-substitution and not a turning of Father against Son. Yes, I’ve heard careless preaching and I cringe at the way some have presented the gospel in these terms. But it is just as careless to flop in the other direction and dispense with justice in the forgiveness process.
One of his lines: “We shape our God and then our God shapes us” (184). So true: our view of God determines what happens to us. So let’s have a biblical view of God, and that’s what Rob is arguing for. For Rob there are two Gods: one God is Love, the other God is Cruel. No one wants the Cruel God, and I suspect that most who do convey a God who is cruel also think that God is loving. But there’s more here: Is the God who is Love capable of taking in the scope of the Bible or is this a select-some-passages God? Is this the God who is the Warrior-Lamb of Revelation? The God who stands behind Jesus’ warnings about Jerusalem’s destruction?
I want to push back by saying this: I am not yet convinced the God in this book is a God of justice. That may sound utterly nonsensical, but Rob has so distanced God from hell (hell is something humans do to themselves) and so distanced God from disestablishing injustice that the oppressed person may well find in Bell’s God little more than justification for the oppressors and the power of the already mighty. Just recently a friend sent to me a paper on James Cone, the well-known American Black liberation theologian, who argued that without wrath in God there is no love in God. If God doesn’t care enough to dis-establish injustice, God doesn’t truly love those who suffer injustice. Until we embrace the utter justice and justifiable wrath of God we will drive ourselves to a sentimental God or to Marcion’s God. The poor must have a God of justice and the rich need to hear that God is just.
Many do suffer from bad views of God and of bad views of the gospel, which he calls the gospel of goats. God is not a slave driver. The gospel is not simply about entrance but about enjoyment … he’s right about this, and too few presentations of the gospel are shaped in the direction that they can lead to this (except the health and wealth folks). The parable of the prodigal son is an excellent place to tell this story of God’s gracious love and offer of fellowship through forgiveness.
And again Rob trots out the all too familiar (and simplistic) stereotype that God punishes Jesus, and while I know some hear this sort of thing, one can’t simply wipe out Romans 3:26 without at least doing some serious thinking: God doesn’t — according to this verse that says God is both just and the justifier — just wink at sin or wipe it away without thinking, but God must do right when he forgives. The way the Bible puts it is that God has to be righteous in forgiveness or it is an unjust forgiveness. Yes, God is the rescuer. But the way the Bible is that God both absorbs sin and injustice — “he who knew no sin was made sin on our behalf” — and forgives. We are talking about God’s self-substitution and not a turning of Father against Son. Yes, I’ve heard careless preaching and I cringe at the way some have presented the gospel in these terms. But it is just as careless to flop in the other direction and dispense with justice in the forgiveness process.
One of his lines: “We shape our God and then our God shapes us” (184). So true: our view of God determines what happens to us. So let’s have a biblical view of God, and that’s what Rob is arguing for. For Rob there are two Gods: one God is Love, the other God is Cruel. No one wants the Cruel God, and I suspect that most who do convey a God who is cruel also think that God is loving. But there’s more here: Is the God who is Love capable of taking in the scope of the Bible or is this a select-some-passages God? Is this the God who is the Warrior-Lamb of Revelation? The God who stands behind Jesus’ warnings about Jerusalem’s destruction?
I want to push back by saying this: I am not yet convinced the God in this book is a God of justice. That may sound utterly nonsensical, but Rob has so distanced God from hell (hell is something humans do to themselves) and so distanced God from disestablishing injustice that the oppressed person may well find in Bell’s God little more than justification for the oppressors and the power of the already mighty. Just recently a friend sent to me a paper on James Cone, the well-known American Black liberation theologian, who argued that without wrath in God there is no love in God. If God doesn’t care enough to dis-establish injustice, God doesn’t truly love those who suffer injustice. Until we embrace the utter justice and justifiable wrath of God we will drive ourselves to a sentimental God or to Marcion’s God. The poor must have a God of justice and the rich need to hear that God is just.
God is Love, but that same God self-describes with “I am holy.” Yes, I agree — the witness of the Bible is that God is love, but how can we simply avoid God’s self-identifying words about holiness? And what does holiness say about some of the topics in this book? Can we simply dismiss the robust view of holiness at work in the Bible when it comes to descriptions of God? For some holiness is the defining attribute of God, for others it’s love. I don’t know why we get into such battles – both are true. God is holy and God is love, and God is lovingly holy and holy in his love. Holiness does not mean wrath; holiness means purity and moral perfection and utter differentness — the ineffability and the infinity of God. So I propose that there’s one expression in the Bible that puts these together in a way that needed more representation in this book: the God who is Jealous, the God whose zeal for his own glory is provoked when his people profane his Name and turn from him in sin. Jealousy and Love belong together and reveal the holy fiber at work in God’s love. Where is the jealousy of God in this book?
Rob says “We do ourselves great harm when we confuse the very essence of God, which is love, with the very real consequences of rejecting and resisting that love, which creates what we call hell” (177). Hell, in other words, is not part of God’s world — or connected to God. This problem isn’t this simple. The fact is that Rob believes in hell, and that means God has created a world in which hell can exist. Whether you say God made hell for sinners or whether you say humans make their own hell, you’ve got a God who is connected to hell. God made a world with consequences, and that means we are driven to connect God to the consequences, if only to say God made the possibility of such consequences. We need to ask what kind of God that is.
And I ask this to finish: Why the ridicule like this? “This is why Christians who talk the most about going to heaven while everybody else goes to hell don’t throw very good parties” (179). Those who believe love wins, and who believe God is love and who believe what we believe ought to matter ought not to ridicule others like this. The truth of the matter is that I’ve been to some mighty good parties by those hell-embracing folks and some bad parties at the homes of those don’t give a damn about hell.
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