book review: love wins

Rob Bell, Love Wins (HarperOne, 2011).

Let me say that I thought the hype surrounding the release of this book was ridiculously disappointing and was a significant factor in my near-decision not to read the book. That is to say, I only come to this discussion out of obligation (and because of a copy that voluntarily landed on my desk). I don't have a wide readership, but I evidently will sleep better tonight knowing my two cents are posted.

In what has been a stunning display of evangelical slam-culture, Rob Bell has been (once again) maligned as some sort of heretic for what he proposes as truth in his latest book, Love Wins. What is particularly fascinating about this judgment is that it has been given a priori - which is to say that people decried Bell's position before they ever knew what his position was going to be. Sadly, those who are supposed to be more concerned with truth than anyone else were actually quick to judge without knowing truth. And that might be the biggest lesson from this whole episode: Love Wins (Except in Modern Theological Debates).

As to the book itself:

First, I wholeheartedly agree with Jeff Cook's comments (posted at Jesus Creed) that one would be hard-pressed to find any more controversial idea stated in Bell's book that in the writings of C. S. Lewis. However, I will say that one issue that I have with Love Wins is that Bell is content to leave some avenues of thought open to interpretation. While this might sound like the theological high road, it will make life difficult for those who are looking for more definitive answers to his direction of thought. I suppose the solution to this is for Bell to state his position and make a more concerted effort to guide the discussion to an absolute rather than playing the postmodern fog of eternal questions.

Second, in spite of my stated concern, I will say that Rob Bell has much to say that is definitive and straightforward. This is especially true for human freedom and the divine will. For instance, he makes the strong statement: "God gives us what we want, and if that's hell, we can have it. We have that kind of freedom, that kind of choice. We are that free. We can use machetes if we want to" (72).

Such a statement is also in the context of Bell's conviction that heaven and hell are not simply realities that are to come in a future and disconnected 'eternity,' but that they are descriptors of what life is like in the present. This strongly echoes the Jewish-Christian belief in exile and restoration, where the majority biblical expectation was for God to bring his kingdom of justice and righteousness into the present experience of the world.

Third, Rob Bell takes much from parables and apocalyptic/poetic imagery that sometimes calls into question whether or not he uses proper methods of hermeneutic, but overall I think he does capture the tenor of most passages. At first it appears that he is going to read too much into 'The Rich Man and Lazarus' but then unveils a profound point: that even in the stark realities of the afterlife the rich man still expects to be served by the poor man, which is why he is dead but still hasn't died (77).

Also in this area is his discussion of the Prodigal Son, to which Bell highlights the singular party, which is heaven for the younger son and hell for the older son . . . the same experience offered by the father. This is straight interpretation inspired by the singular experience of the Holy Spirit as both judgment and blessing as found elsewhere in the New Testament.

Fourth, Rob Bell arrives at what I consider one of the most significant and revealing theological questions in front of us, Does God get everything that he wants? How one answers this is significant. 1. Scripture says that God wants all people to be saved (1 Tim 2); 2. Not everyone will be saved. Therein lies theological synthesis and inquiry. Although, it appears that while God wants all people to be saved, most of his followers do not share his sentiment.

So the love of God seems to go further than human emotion. This is not surprising, but it is revealing. In the end, one of Bell's main points says it well: We do not need to be rescued from God . . . God is the one who rescues us from ourselves (cf. 182).

Notice that this review did not get bogged down with the discussions of hell and universalism that so many people have accused the book of containing. That's simply because the book isn't preoccupied with those things. Regarding both heaven and hell, Rob Bell makes a powerful point - the Bible doesn't say as much about them as we believe to be concrete truths. This reveals the evangelical tendency to narrow our thought based on the assurances of the unknown.

In the end, this is Rob Bell's best writing to date. There is a lot to investigate here, and nobody should expect to enter into the discussion without minor disagreements along the way. That might be true here. However, in the end Love Wins does not contain or assert any idea that falls into unorthodox categories. Much of the book reflects thoughts presented in N. T. Wright's Surprised by Hope. Other parts contain pieces which are reminiscent of John Sanders' presentation of Inclusivism as found in What about Those Who Have Never Heard? - which is an investigation into the destiny of the unevangelized.

What is, sadly, overlooked in the entire hype is Bell's personal testimony to the power of God's love and salvation which is included in the final chapter. It is quite powerful.

What We Should Learn:

1. Rob Bell doesn't conclusively know the realities of heaven and hell.

2. Neither do we.

3. God's love never stops pursuing us, nor does it cease to amaze us.

4. Everything else matters, perhaps more than our knowledge of heaven and hell.

God, deception, and young earthies

My life had a glancing pass of a statement of young-earth creationism yesterday, and I was reminded of some of the issues I have with the entire movement to push the Bible's message into the packaging of certain fundamentalists.

My concern is specifically for the Omphalos hypothesis, or the notion that the earth is young but that God created it to appear old - a position designed to reconcile geological data with the young-earth hermeneutic. (This, then, deteriorates into discussions about whether or not Adam and Eve had navels. *sigh*)

I have two nagging questions regarding the Omphalos hypothesis, and they both the same: Why?

Firstly, why is God interested in making the earth appear older than it really is? What purpose would he possibly have to deceive the people of earth into thinking that things are really much older than they actually are? This is quite peculiar behavior for one whose main purpose is to establish a relationship with his creation, specifically humanity, when we all know that strong ties do not start with half-truths or non-truths.

Secondly, why is it acceptable for God to deliberately deceive his own creation? This should not need elaboration, for it stands to reason that a trustworthy deity would necessarily act trustworthy at all times. Furthermore, I do believe that all of our theology - the parts that are actually built upon holy Scripture - tell us that God does not / can not deceive as part of his character of holiness.

Interestingly enough, this is simply one case (out of what would certainly be a long list) of our desire to win arguments that we are willing to sacrifice truth - even God's own stated character - to get there. So we should have a definite problem with those who would assert God's wisdom in deception by making the earth appear older than it actually is.

For a lie's a lie, no matter how small.

distance and freedom

"True human life is possible only if the vision of God is of such a nature that disbelief remains possible. The concern is not to keep people ignorant, but to preserve them."

(T. Fretheim, The Suffering of God, 92)

At the base of Sinai there are instructions not to allow the people to see God, or else they will die. Typically we assume that this is because the divine presence (holiness) is too intense for humanity to gaze upon, and thus would be our destruction. Old Testament scholar, Terence Fretheim, thinks that a more careful reading of the text demonstrates otherwise. And I think that he is more right than wrong here.

“The intensity associated with certain theophanies does not happen because God stands in some fundamental disjunction with the world, requiring much ‘sound and fury’ to occur in God’s wake. Some of the most ‘face to face’ comings of God are very quiet, it should be remembered, even childlike. There is a certain ‘nexus’ here that cannot be denied. Although God and world are categorically different, they are not as irreconcilable as repelling magnets or oil in water" (Ibid.).

Simultaneously we suppose that God cannot reveal himself to us and pray that God would be ever-present in our lives. We ask for the glory of God to be made known to us, but our mouths often testify to the 'fact' that God's glory is too great for us to handle. Yet one more unmatched theological rendering in modern evangelicalism, where our words about God and our words to God are not consistent.

Fretheim's assertion here is that God's distancing from humanity is for the purpose of preserving the whole of Creation as he made it - that it should have the relational freedom to act on its own, even to the point of denying the very existence (or the inherent glory of) its Creator. In a sense Christian thought has already run ahead to this point and arrived there. We confess, along with Paul and the early church, that the moment of parousia and the triumphant return of Christ will be the moment when every knee will bow and every tongue will confess (cf. Philippians 2:5-11). Thus, there will be no *choice* in accepting the sovereignty of God or his agent.

So, if God desires freedom in the world before the moment of Christ's second coming, is it possible for him to show his glory before that point? Not if the system of his creation - and the plan of his creation-activity - is to be preserved.

This also means that the presence of God hasn't been as far off as we've allowed our own minds to convince. It takes work to make a relationship flourish, and God will no more give us every blessing without the commitment of our own hearts engaged with him. Any time humans are given blessing too quickly and too easily it typically ends in some sort of disaster. Hence, we are free and we are given the opportunity to grow because of the distance of God's glory, and the nearness of his Spirit.

Pentecost seems to fit into all of this quite nicely, for it is now that our Creator is revealed in a more profound way . . . to bridge the gap for those who are willing to travel the road.

emptiness or divine quiet?

The past week has been given over to fasting and prayer. We as a church have collectively started our Lent season this way in the hopes of seeing a spiritual breakthrough and renewal among our congregation. Personally, I do not enjoy fasting, and that's fine to admit - it is the voice of God that I am seeking, not the absence of food.

Because we are in a church which is riddled with much spiritual warfare and internal conflict, we knew that this was going to be a significant undertaking. And, indeed, in the weeks of planning and preparation we saw a number of things that could only be described as attacks from the enemy. Certainly this would be an intense time of fasting and prayer.

My personal experience with the fast is something that I never quite anticipated. My initial reaction to the fast was that I felt empty. I know, right? You're supposed to feel empty . . . that's the deal with a fast. But I am talking about something deeper than the physical. In essence, I felt nothing. And this nothingness has become quite hard to explain.

At first, it was as though I had lost all desire, drive, interest, motivation . . . it was nothing. A person can handle this for a day or two, but then things start to become unnerving. Was I not doing it right? Was God not happy with me for some reason? Am I not able to enter into spiritual warfare on this level? What is happening?

What initially left me confused has now perhaps come to a fuller revelation. Sometimes we wait to hear God, but we want him to speak on our terms. This, of course, he does not typically do - for his ways are not our ways. There I was, sitting in the cave of the mountain waiting for God to come in a fire, earthquake, mighty wind . . . something. But he came and spoke most profoundly in such a deafening silence that my soul could barely endure.

Without noise, distraction, or the roaring conflicts of spiritual warfare filling my heart, my home, my family, or even at the church, there stood the Almighty. And his voice had once again spoken to the raging storms of creation, "Peace; be still." When all is said and done there can be no greater gift for me right now that the stillness of the divine presence. Of course, he knew that long before my shallowness could understand it.

Hence, I am left with a threefold understanding of his nature: 1) Every gift from him is a good and perfect gift; 2) We will never, ever be prepared to be approached by him; 3) Wherever we are, he will come and take us where we need to be.

a lenten resolution

Every spring it is time to start thinking about resolutions for Lent, typically those things from which we are choosing to abstain in an act of self-denial. For the most part evangelicals have been tongue-in-cheek regarding Lenten fasts, as though our 40-day lack of donuts or soda will do the job at aligning our spirit with the sufferings of Christ. Sometimes it is more serious than that, and some people take up the challenge quite dramatically.

And sometimes, albeit rare, there are Lenten fasts which fall into both categories. I have one of them this year. Though it may initially sound whimsical and dismissive, I assure you that I am serious about this - and the outcome just might be serious all the more.

This year I abstain from inner-church conflict.

Some will want to roll their eyes over this one, but consider my context. Most of the people that browse this blog know that I pastor a church. Some of you know that this particular church has been riddled with internal conflict for many years, and that our family walked into a rather volatile situation just over one year ago. Amidst all the attacking, I am declaring a holy fast - from making any sort of response.

There will likely need to be some parameters set in place. After all, I am a pastor and cannot rightly see others being attacked without stepping in to mediate. (I am not talking about abstaining from this activity.) But I am saying that any personal defense of my actions, when I am maligned or attacked, will simply stand unanswered. I will stand before God alone and let the world think what it will.

I suppose, in a very Abraham Lincoln-esque way, that keeping silent is the only way to assure that there will be no deceit found in my mouth - as there was none in Christ's. For it was Lincoln who aptly reminded us that it is better to be thought a fool than to open one's mouth and remove all doubt.

And I am so ready to get out of the rhythm of conflict that my Lenten fast begins a bit early this year. For I have, over the last few weeks, already moved to this end. And sometimes Lent takes us to a place where we should never resume our old life again.