... as a tool for evangelism.
If you’ve read this far, you’ve fallen prey to a trick that controversial pastor Rob Bell uses to hook all kinds of people, on topics ranging from sex to social justice to Hell. He hits you with something inflammatory, something black and white, to draw a response, an outrage, an audience. But I’m starting to wonder if that’s all a gimmick to get people to read, because if Bell’s latest book on Heaven and Hell is actually about what I think it is, then the last thing I think Bell wants is definites.
He’s really just trying to get people to listen.
Take Sex God, for example, Bell’s incredibly fine work on Who God is, what love is, and what that means for Christians or just basic relationships. Anybody who’s read the book knows it’s about how relationships are only anything when balanced out by God — how sex and God go together and aren’t enemies. Anybody who hasn’t read the book is all in a tither, thinking Bell wrote something about a god of sex.
Sex God is a very even, nuanced, Biblical approach to love and relationships, but you would never know it from the title. You think it’s supposed to be some apocryphal mess, the way he set it up. But that begs the next question: If he hadn’t set it up that way, would anyone have ever read it?
And that’s the problem with Love Wins, Bell’s latest book that tackles Heaven and Hell and has managed to get a lot of Christians — rightfully so — upset. When’s the last time you saw a basic, very Scripture-passage-filled Evangelical book get talked about? What — Chuck Swindoll’s not on the Today Show? Whyever not?
So, Bell got the whole world looking. Unfortunately, it’s for all the wrong reasons, and Love Wins has serious repercussions outside of any good it may has caused.
I would like to cover two areas: (1) The good of Bell’s book and (2) the bad. As for whether he has inexorably harmed the church and should be denounced, I will simply say this: We, as Christians, are responsible for the Crusades, the Inquisition, burnings at the stake, a lot of the Holocaust, turning away widows and orphans, saving could-be-aborted babies only to leave them in homeless shelters, refusing to give medical attention to foreigners until they accepted our Gospel, contributing to the oppression of women, scarring our families, and, above all, failing to be Jesus to the people around us every day. We’ve all messed up, some bigger than others. But before we shoot down another Christian, let’s make sure that we’re not screwing over the people around us by not showing them a good picture of Christ. And let’s leave the judgment questions to God, and do as the Bible says, which is return evil with good (insert several hundred Scripture references here).
I will discuss points where I think Bell has made missteps, but I will not condemn him. And, in the spirit of evil overcoming good, I will first ask, what good can we draw from this?
My piece opened with a charge against Bell of creating a lot of hoopla around a controversial topic, probably with him hoping that many people would get a chance to see the Gospel. That is laudable, but unlike Bell’s other scandalous entries (e.g. Sex God), he doesn’t back this one up with mainly orthodox views that are simply told more creatively. He’s got some doctrine problems. But that is Point #2.
For those unfamiliar, Bell is an engaging pastor who has a 7,000-member church in Grand Rapids, Mich., that grew out of ambitious reframing of the Bible. That is, Bell took what has been taught in the Christian church for a couple thousand years and put it into today’s language. As Paul was Greek to the Greeks and Roman to the Romans, Rob Bell has been a truly postmodern Christian to the postmodern Christians, which is not a light compliment. Ask any young person in the church today, and they can give you a hefty list of ways the church doesn’t seem to make sense with the world they see around them every day. And I’m not talking about “drums in the church” and “whether you can wear jeans.” No. I am talking about serious, serious, “Jesus told us to reach the people around us, and I don’t have a clue how, because my church never taught me that.”
Bell follows the call of “in the world but not of it,” showing how real Christianity can spread in today’s culture.
I could throw labels around or go into examples, but I think you either know exactly what I’m talking about or you’re clueless. If you don’t know, a guy like Rob Bell will only confuse you more. If you do know, go buy some Rob Bell books right now.
Bell does not pretend to be a doctrinal textbook writer. He is very clear that his approach to teaching the faith is not about supplanting the Bible, or lists of theology points, but rather expanding them or rephrasing them in a way we can understand. C.S. Lewis did this when he created dialogue between devils in The Screwtape Letters, when he retold great Greek myths to explain God in Till We Have Faces, when he described how Jesus Christ came and found him in Surprised By Joy. Jesus did it, too — they were called parables.
Now, every adventurous Christian writer will get his criticism, especially from the doctrine stalwarts who are terrified that if we change one detail, we have to start throwing out whole chunks of systematic theology. (I just read a book where a writer tried to do an expository storytelling of St. Paul’s life — and not a very good one at that, I may add — and I found notes in the margin referencing a Christian leader who repeatedly said, “Not in the text. Not in the text.” Well, of course. If we regurgitate only the text, we might as well just xerox the Bible, because all Christian books in some sense are an interpretation or exposition of the text.)
I think that much of Christianity is not called the Bible; it’s called growth. God set up the parameters in the natural world and in His Word; Jesus Christ came to save us; the Holy Spirit convicts and guides us. Throughout all of this are millions of different people and situations where God guides every single person into a deeper understanding of Him. Sometimes He even uses this scandalous thing called the body of Christ, where — hold on to your hats, kids — sometimes one believer will share with another believer how God has worked, or how a Scripture passage comes across to that believer in a way that, believe it or not, is not explicitly “in the text.” That’s right. Verses can be taken different ways and applied to different situations, and no Bible teacher would argue with this one. That is what good teaching does: It starts from the core of truth and finds applications. We make a doctrinal core, but God teaches us and leads us in many different ways.
What creative or expository writing then does is take a specific point in teaching and find a way to craft it to a specific audience, to get that audience that may not ever see it that way by a simple reading to understand it. Will some details be blurred? Of course. But the good writers never promise to give the complete picture, and they never say to toss out the Bible. What they are doing is creating different entry points to the same piece of truth.
That is what Bell is the master of with today’s world: creating different entry points to the same piece of truth. He takes Biblical equations (e.g. truth and grace balance) and weighs down one side until the reader gets it, then goes back and weighs down the other. He takes cliches and stories heard dozens of times and backs up, runs over to something you would think would have nothing to do with it, and works his way in backwards until you suddenly see that this something that had nothing to do with anything actually has everything to do with a Biblical concept you’ve never really gotten before.
Better yet, Bell is an original writer, in the sense that he doesn’t necessarily fashion his points as a reaction to someone else. We’ve all read those horrid Christian writers who are so busy explaining why someone else is wrong that they can’t give us a point on why they are right. Bell is calm, and subtle, and does not feel the need to explain everything the church is doing wrong — and that’s probably because he realizes that everyone is shaped differently, and that what is so wrong to someone could be a reaction to someone else’s good intentions. He presents his ideas as options, things to be discussed. He doesn’t attack people. And because his points are presented as considerations, my guess is that he wouldn’t mind if you left them aside if they didn’t help you (much as C.S. Lewis would often encourage his readers to do). If you need an alternative, Bell’s message is, try looking at it this way.
This is who Bell is, for those unfamiliar. He quotes the Bible a lot in his writing, and he cites his “concept” points, too. Are all of them doctrinally sound, and good for systematic theology? I wouldn’t say that, but now I must reiterate: I don’t think that’s his point. I think most of his work is not meant to establish a base, but rather to open possibilities. Here’s another way to look at that. Here’s a new angle on that long-established principle. Here’s some color for your ledger-line theology exam. Here’s a person behind that Bible character.
So, read with care, but be ready to care about a lot of things you never realized before.
That’s why I say that Bell’s book is a perfect tool for evangelism. Put away the Heaven and Hell objections for a moment and think about the type of thing Bell is doing in this book.
What are people’s main objections to Christianity? I’m not sure what you’ve heard from the unsaved people you’ve talked to, but let me give you a quick list of responses I often hear when I talk to people around Boston — on the subway, in the newsroom, after church. “I don’t think God can be good, not with the way I see people suffer in my job at the hospital every day.” “Religion? Let me tell you about when I was a kid. I was taking communion in the Catholic church, and the priest ....” “If Heaven is a place that would leave out my friends, then it doesn’t sound like a place I’d like to go.” “What kind of God just looks for ways to screw up people’s lives? Hasn’t He done enough?”
OK, all right. Um, we’re not talking about the same thing anymore. I was talking about Jesus, but I’m not sure what they’re talking about, right?
Now, we as Christians can whine all we want about people misrepresenting God. We can label them “liberals” or look down our nose at other denominations that have messed stuff up. But really, do we have anyone to blame but ourselves for the way people see God? It’s a fact of evangelism, and one that we shouldn’t be complaining about. The Bible says people will avoid the truth and misrepresent God. And it still tells us to preach the Gospel. To every creature.
So, what do we do? Well, we can keep trying to share Christ the way we have for years. We can get upset that people just aren’t getting it. You know, go into the subway and hand out tracts telling people they’re going to Hell. Maybe start a Christian university that pays politicians to enact some Christian ideals. Perhaps we can send out little posses from our church that do nice things in the neighborhood and then tell people about Jesus.
Or, we start to think about what real people are like.
When did you come to Christ? What changed your mind? What was the splinter that led to the crack that ripped your heart wide open so Jesus could come and do His work?
What are your objections to Christianity? What are the things you still struggle with?
On your darkest nights, what is your beef with God? Who is that person who comes to your mind every time you fail? If you could reverse one event in your life, what would it be? Which of the three grandparents that died when you were 9 would you bring back?
We as Christians are, praise God, sanctified, but that doesn’t mean we instantly understand God or stop struggling with sin. Every day, we fight the same battle of the mind and heart that unsaved people do. We just have a whole lot of God’s help.
So, I ask again, what’s your beef with God? What made it OK to finally come to Him?
Unsaved people are people just like us, and meeting them exactly where they are is the only way to start a path toward Christ. The things of God, and His promises, are going to seem strange and fake and flat-out untrue to them. We can’t wait in the church for them to come to us. We can’t give them a three-step plan to Jesus when they are 5,000 steps away from even knowing what the word “saved” actually means. We can’t sing glory hallelujah Heaven when they just want to know why the pain won’t stop.
And that is why I think Rob Bell is brilliant. Hell is pretty high on the list of people’s objections to Christianity, right? So he tells them they don’t need Hell. You don’t want judgment, condemnation? Fine, toss it out, and take Hell with it, he says. You want Heaven and gold and little bunnies in green grass? Take it. Let’s talk about Heaven, he says. Let’s talk about how beautiful and perfect it is and how much you want it.
But then he asks what they’re going to do with it.
For all the critics of Rob Bell’s book, I hope you made it to the last, little, seven-page chapter, because that is the redeeming factor of this book. For all the miscues (hold on, they’re still coming), Bell still hits a winner at the end. He gives Scripture passages that talk about real judgment and real separation from God. He leaves the ball in the court of the reader.
But when he leaves the ball for them, the decision for them and only them to make, he’s done it in a way few other Christians have: He’s taken away all the barriers.
Think about the objections to Christianity, and where people would be if those were taken away. What would they say then? For the science people, if the Creation objections were taken away, what would they say? For the abused people, if the hurt was taken away, what would they say? For the I-don’t-like-Hell people, if Hell was taken away, what would they say?
Deep down, we’ve all got this thing that’s telling us something is up. It’s stronger for some, more defined for others. But when we stop being reactionary, and explaining the reasons we don’t like something or don’t want to follow something, all of the sudden we have to act. If — to be extreme — death was two minutes away, what gut feeling would you take care of? If your child, or your best friend, was looking at death two minutes away, what would you tell them?
We’ve all got some idea of God and what is true and what is good. Romans says that. Bell knows that. So, he says, “Please, lower your weapons. I know that much of Christianity can be farcical and contradictory, even mean-spirited and cruel. We have been misrepresented, but we have also been perfectly represented as the slowly healing sinners we are. But please, without these things you find offensive and wrong, what do you think of God? What do you believe? Have you taken time to take care for your soul? Will you at least start to explore?”
Will you at least start to explore.
Most unsaved people in the world today are on a winding journey back to God, and we Christians are merely the helpers that arrive here and there to help them take this step or that. But the most abused, the most hurt, the most skeptical are often in the saddest position of all — they have stopped walking. They do not try to understand. They have shut off the lights, turned around the car, closed the mind. The hurdles are too big. They cannot consider it.
Our job as Christians is to bring people to Christ, whether they are three steps away, 5,000 steps away, or have refused to budge. If we continue to present the Gospel the same way, or — worse yet — allow dangerously wrong misconceptions of Jesus to linger in their minds — that may be why we aren’t reaching them. If they won’t budge on the road that you see so clearly between them and Christ, why not lead them through a path that goes through the forest instead? Why not open a different window and give them another view? Why not hold their hand and carry them a bit farther?
Now, Bell’s doctrinal points aside, if any unsaved person picks up that book and makes it to that last chapter, we may have won a victory of some sorts. Because they, in reading what Bell has presented, will have read about Heaven. They will have read about Jesus. They will have read about love. And then, in the end, they will be told to get off their rear end and do something about it.
I’m not advocating for spurious doctrine, and the end never justifies the means if we willfully do wrong. But I will say this: I have had (unknown) wrong ideas of God’s love before in my life, but the funny thing about love is that you never want to stop exploring it, because it’s love. And then you see the truth, and it’s still love. And God peels back the layers and changes you and shows you all this stuff you would have never taken before because you were so selfish and arrogant, and it’s still love. And you, a little love junky, keep going back for more.
Remember how you came to Christ. Did you know everything about doctrine? Did you know what kind of decision you were making? (It was a big one.) Did you have even a hint of this One you were giving yourself to? Probably not, for any Christian — ever — is the answer to those yes. God gives us enough to bring us to Him, and then He goes all God on us.
For people who make Hell their excuse for not coming to God, Bell does not let them beat around the edges and avoid what unsettles them. He takes away their excuse and asks them what they will now do with God.
So now, instead of stagnants, we have seekers. Any doubt that once they start looking, they’ll find Him?
With this, I conclude Point #1, in which I suggest that some good can come of Bell’s work. First, he talks in today’s language, and paints pictures people can understand, bringing many to the Gospel who would not have dared to come near it before. Two, God is mighty and sovereign and works through idiots and heretics as much as saints (although this is not preferred). Three, I bet you’re thinking a lot more about what Christians actually believe, huh? Huh? And four, nothing is ever perfect, and nothing is ever finished. The book is already out. How can we use it for good?
Now, the bad.
First of all, I understand Bell is trying to attract a lot of people to his book and reach more people with clever marketing, but do we really need the hyperbole? What about all the Christians he’s alienated? Would some disclaimers, some humility, some moderation help? I noted before that C.S. Lewis would encourage his readers to leave his points aside if they did not help the reader better understand something, but Bell does not do that. I think that is his purpose with this style of writing, but he never explicitly says that, and, by being a pastor, he sets himself up as an authoritative source that some take as a definitive end point for their Bible learning. Very dangerous.
Second, also on his approach, I understand the good of weighing down one side of the equation heavily so that we really, really understand it before mixing in the rest. As a Christian growing up in the church, I fully know the danger of Bible teachers who can’t teach a freaking lesson on grace without reminding students that God judges them, too. (Sometimes we really need to know what just grace is, OK?) But I fear Bell has left out too much of the counterbalance here, or not laid enough disclaimers for his readers to know there is more information than what he has given. He ignores some very important points.
Third, Bell talks an awful lot about exploring and Christianity having room for many views and God being way bigger than our minds, but he gives a pretty definitive, narrow conclusion in his book. Is God big enough for people who don’t want a Hell or but not big enough for people that think righteous justness is part of His character? Bell wants to pull the boundaries of God in ways that make sense to his human views of love and fairness, but he does not spend much time addressing that maybe God is quite loving but tough to completely comprehend.
The Bible talks of a mystery, and exploration. Paul was a big proponent. But it’s not carte blanche, willy-nilly search and do whatever you want. At some point that type of poking around becomes heresy.
I have extensive notes on some of the doctrinal snafus I encountered in Bell’s book. Some I took with, “Well, we don’t know that, so it’s a possibility I can consider,” but quite a few, and many of the heavy ones, I had to say, “Yeah, that’s not what that verse means” or “You’re leaving out several verses that balance that argument.”
For example, he cites the Isaiah passage where it talks about all people of the earth meeting in Egypt to praise God, and he says that must mean the enemies of God, too. But I’m pretty sure that the rest of that passage talks about God destroying His enemies, so maybe the enemies aren’t there praising God because they’ve been destroyed. Just a thought.
I’d prefer not to attack or be reactionary, so I’ll just list other areas I thought were under-explained in case people are curious: the cut-off date for salvation (are the gates of Heaven just wide open forever, until everybody filters in?); the judgment or condemnation for people who do not have consequences on this earth corresponding to their sinful actions; why, if we’re all on a long journey to God, the Bible talks about a specific point of belief, where justification takes place and sanctification begins; the importance of accepting Christ specifically and not just basking in God’s love generically; how Bell deals with human nature — i.e., none are righteous, none seek God, none left out there on their own will choose to come to God, even if convicted by the natural things of this world that they are wrong; the passages in the final chapter that Bell quotes (talking about severe separation); whether God indeed is so beautiful if a world without God is not so horrible (this is a big one); Bell’s entire premise that Hell is basically standing outside of Heaven and looking at other people having it good and you not having it good; a complete sidestep on what is true good, true bad, true evil — and especially if there is no condemnation and no cutoff, what we are really missing?; Bell saying that with Hell, God “becomes a different person” when we die, when really I think it may be more of a different role, much like Biblical parallels of God being our Father; the Bible verses talking about a place created for the devil and his angels (a guest room, perhaps?); not whether God could create Hell, as Bell wonders, but whether God could make a place absent of Himself, which is a much more valid question; Bell’s entire obsession with whether God is “able” to save people — isn’t the question here actually one of will and character, and not ability?; if God is too good to create Hell, then why did He create people who make Hell on earth (Bell’s main idea)?
I have Bible references and deep philosophical constructs, but we don’t need that here.
What I do want to do is make one more comment on the purpose of this book. As I needled through all my critiques of the case Bell was laying out, I found myself wondering whether this book was, in fact, written for Christians.
Crazy, right?
But think about it — how much more beautiful would Jesus be if we were talking more about His goodness? How many people sneer at Christians because we act like have the ultimate ace card by having a Hell?
Bell’s point that Christians emphasize Hell too much is, I think, extremely valid. For our theology, we need a Hell — mostly because that portion of orthodoxy explains the antithesis of God, the point of everything. Hell is what happens when we have removed Him from life.
If condemnation is what happens when you reject God, then the place of condemnation is a place without God. That means that every inch of you that was made good by God, or any part of this world that you loved because it had a hint of God or reflected His goodness, is gone. That selfishness you fight every day? That nasty temper that flares up when you’re hurt? That rage that makes you just always want what you want so much? Well, that’s going to be out of control without God there, because any good and any hope you had of not being completely yourself — a disgusting, corroded, polluted creature — is gone if God is not there. You will continue to devour yourself, step by hideous step.
So, whether Hell is a literal place where you burn or a figurative place where you are simply without God, decaying from the ravages of sin for all eternity (or perhaps, as some have suggested, until you destroy yourself to the point that you are no longer human), there is an effect of not having God, and it is the same as the punishment for rejecting God.
The only way God would allow us to have complete, unadulterated Hell (as defined as life without Him) is if we chose so, which is why you only get Hell if you reject God. The consequences on earth, the bummers of sin nature that we have right now, are all watered down by the goodness of God that still pervades this world.
So, we need Hell if we have any kind of God Who is good or righteous, because something that rejects a God Who is really God in the true sense of the word should be separated from God if they are so un-God to reject Him. (Because God, in the true sense of the word God, can’t be around things that are grotesque by rejecting Him and His goodness, because He’s God.)
As for cutoff dates and eternal separation — well, that’s where doctrinal division lines come in that are worth discussing, but not needed to support the point that Christianity sort of needs a Hell if it’s going to have a God. (Personally, though: How can it be Hell if there’s no cutoff or separation?)
But just because Hell is part of our doctrine does not mean that it’s what we should be putting on our billboards, which goes back to why I was wondering if this book is written for Christians.
I would agree with Bell that Christians need to stop being obsessed with Hell.
First, it’s a downer. I mean, come on. Second, it’s a cop-out. Here’s why you should choose my religion — you could get burnt up! All right, that’s weak. Third, and most importantly, it’s so beside the point. Why are we fixated on flip side of a bad decision rather than the God of the universe? Why are we trying to motivate people with fear?
According to the Bible, God is sad that Hell has to be. It’s an unfortunate consequence. The idea of the cosmic killjoy who likes torching people like a bully burns ants on a playground with his magnifying glass is not the Biblical description of God. God does not need Hell or enjoy its purpose. Condemnation is a byproduct of our decisions, not an attribute of God.
Do people who fixate on Hell even know God? I mean, seriously — if they have a real, beautiful relationship with Jesus, how can they not be exploding with it? Why on earth are they thinking about dungeons and dragons?
Who takes the guy of their dreams home and stands there telling their family all the annoying things he’s not?
We need to have an answer when people want to know if there is a Hell, and heck yes, it’s a wonderful motivator for people who aren’t urgent about seeking God or making right choices. But it’s a really poor way to evangelize. It’s really taking the focus away from what the Gospel is about: Christ. (This may be a surprise, but we were created for fellowship with God. Heaven and Hell are actually aftereffects.) For some, harping on Hell may be a way to God, but for others, I suggest that it may actually be horrifically dangerous — these people may do a list of things to get out of Hell, think they are safe, and never once consider what it means to accept Christ or know God. And that is precisely the thing that actually gets you headed toward Hell.
One of the strongest parts of Bell's book, and a chapter I would hand to any soul on this earth, Christian or not, with no caveats, is his bit on Heaven. He paints a picture that we would all do well to paint for those who cannot imagine Christ, although they already yearn for Him.
Bell describes my Jesus, my God, according to His Bible, His version of Heaven. He describes justice and love and goodness. He describes right. He describes beauty.
He connects the God I met through the beauty and good of this world with the God I dream to meet when we have faces.
And then, the little genius, he asks what kind of people could be allowed in that beautiful place. Rapists? Hitler? Nah. Probably not.
What about you? Would God let you into that place?
With that, I bow my head, and lay open my hands, and cry the way I did the day God found me on Newbury Street in Boston, Massachusetts, while reading a chapter about Jane Eyre. That was the first time in my life that I actually knew God loved me. That was the day I realized that these things I had been chasing, this intellect I had been accumulating, were little reflections of the Joy that is God.
I remember laying in the dark after campfire services as a kid and as a teenager, thinking about the agony of Hell, and having little chats with God to double-check that I was saved. It was a strange farce, this weird uncertainty as I looped down the checklist like the evangelist had told me to.
I remember hearing people talk about Heaven, and being reunited with God, as I looked at the coffins of my grandparents and my childhood basketball hero and saw only black, feeling only that monstrous pit in my chest.
I remember glimpsing the light in a friend’s eye as she told me about a real God she knew, a God that gave her hope and joy, words I knew I didn’t understand.
And I remember Newbury Street, and crying over Jane Eyre. And I remember, without the threat of Hell or ever having to throw a stick into a campfire to dedicate my life to God, that I would do everything I could from that day forward to tell everyone I knew that God is, indeed, real. He loves us. He wants us. He is behind those doors we open looking for something else. He is strung throughout our favorite music and hidden in our favorite books. He is the good we see everywhere in this world, and He is giving us these tastes until we know to come to Him.
I came to Christianity because I knew I was supposed to accept Jesus into my heart, maybe because of a fear of Hell. I came to God because I finally understood Who He was through glimpses of Heaven.
People hate Christianity because Christ-followers are called to die to self. They see the sacrifice, the loss of humanity.
What we don’t tell them enough about is that if they push this Jesus away, all the good from Him that has clung to different parts of their life will one day be gone, too. God doesn’t want to take their good; He wants to connect it to the Source that makes it so good.
Yet many Christians just blabber to them about Hell.
Rob Bell says he doesn’t like a Heaven where some are “in” and some are “out.” I don’t even think I’m in, because whatever was me died on Newbury Street. Something new is walking around Boston. And that smiling girl sees Heaven everywhere.
As soon as we are “in,” God starts to peel apart what was us and makes it something new.
There is no Heaven and Hell. There is only God and not God. Chances are, most people are running hard after bits of God that they’ve seen, and they don’t even know that it’s Him. We need to tell them, in ways they can understand.
We have been placed on this earth to find every way possible to show them the path to Heaven. Soon.
