Hell and damnation; but not the devil just yet

(Part II on Sin/Forgiveness, Hell/Damnation, and the Devil)

http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/121718.cfm
Genesis 49:2, 8-10
Matthew 1:1-17

It takes a rather wacky (I prefer brave) person to use the Gospel on the Genealogy of Jesus Christ (from Matthew 1:1), plus the 49th Chapter of Genesis’ tale of Judah, as a biblical explanation for discussing hell and damnation. What do the founding of the nation of the Jewish people from Judah, the fourth son of Jacob, have to do with hell and damnation? And, how does Jesus’ genealogy apply? Square peg and round hole stuff. And yet, here I go.

We discussed sin last week in the reflection called Sin & healthcare — uh ohWe’ll tackle the distasteful subject of the devil next time. . I tied forgiveness and healing together like two ends of the same string on a shoe. Now we’re going to do the same thing with hell and damnation. Shoes come in pairs, after all. We’ll tackle the distasteful subject of the devil next time. We can’t talk about him until we’re realigned with scripture on the subject of hell and damnation. We need to have a handle on hell before we go talking about the devil, right?

The easy way to explain hell would be to say that it is the destination of evil; and we can explain damnation as how we get there. Both are required to complete the surly journey to the place of eternal doom. Damnation is the path, the step by step willful descent toward denial that God has authority over us. Hell is the state, the condition and territory, of that complete denial and God’s affirmation of our free will. 

The Christian position is, if so inclined, we can be successful in separating from God. We don’t have to accept his authority. There are consequences — the darkness and horror of eternity without God. We decide. This is who God is. We either choose him intentionally in a loving relationship, or we deny him with rebellion and hate. A whole lot of gerrymandering and waffling go on between those two, but the entire gamut of decision-making falls to us. Yikes.

Consequently, hell, in whatever way it exists, represents the removal of God’s presence. It is a place of odd location and circumstances. How can we escape God’s presence if he is everywhere? Only if God agrees to remove us from his presence, as we request. We can’t create this space, so in the most ironic of eternal ironies we expect God to do this for us. Send us to the most undesirable place possible.

Unless, some say … unless we don’t accept the premise that God gives us the option to demolish ourselves for an eternity. I don’t buy this logic. It says God will not allow our damnation. If we believe that, then we must conclude we have no free will. Love does not come from our will, but from our necessity, goes the logic. We may not do what God wants, but it won’t matter in the end, because he’ll adjust our sights, recalibrate our notions, and we’ll love him. How does an unwilling robot love? This thinking is vacuous. Good luck with how that plays out.

If there is no God at all, then this subject is nonsense.  

But If there is a God, a loving God who must convince us to love him, knowing we may reject him, then this subject requires our attention to the idea (or reality, I’d prefer) that authority and free will exist. In truth, God’s authority must persuade us to more than respect him. We must love him. He also must let evil persist while we all make up our minds. We must choose to love him in the midst of evil — ours and everyones. To love him we have to repent our own sinfulness, aware and fearful that not repenting can lead us to perdition. How is this fear translated into our love for God? We must know his mercy, as explained regarding sin. Only then can we love him. Can we make sense of it?

First, there is hell. Really? Does anyone believe in hell anymore? Can we really imagine God damning us to such a place? C.S. Lewis believed in hell and thought deeply about it. So did Dante, Mary Baxter, John Milton, Mother Teresa, Jean-Paul Sartre, Billy Graham, and, well, you get the idea. I’ll bet every person named on Matthew’s genealogy list weighed the importance of damnation and hell, too. (I’m not cheating, making the scriptures fit my topic — I’ve got more about Matthew 1:1). 

Our problem with this subject is how we want God to be defined, and how we explain the motivation and plan for God creating the universe.

God is merciful. God is good. So, when I stub my toe is God just training me to watch where I step? That would fit a merciful and good God. When a plane crashes into earth on April 11 of 2018 and 257 people die is God still merciful and good? Well, review all the plane crashes in 2018 (there is a web site for that), you’ll see crash after crash where everyone survived. So, we ask, what’s with the random mercy? What good is there in this? How come some survive and others don’t?

And that’s why hell and damnation have been relegated to myth. Ignorance — folks who believe the earth is flat fear hell. Laziness — parents who don’t know how to love their children use hell as a disciplinary tool. Corruption — preachers who buy their wives Lamborghinis invoke hell to fund their narcissism. So, goes the thinking — only morons, suckers, and hucksters believe in hell.

Now we’re getting someplace. This is the place to start, because as humans in space and time we struggle to separate mistakes from God and so we dismiss hell, because it doesn’t fit our manufactured ideas about God. God allows mistakes, evil, and unfairness? This is the problem. We don’t know how to reconcile God’s allowance for evil, so we say there’s no consequence for evil. It hurts too much to think God would stand by. It seems indefensible.

We are stuck with the question, “How can God allow willfulness for ill intent? We know misery and pain reign. What’s he thinking? Why does he allow sin at all?” Those 257 people were robbed. The fella who used the offertory plate to please his wife was a crook. What’s going on here? In our definition of a good God, God would put in place ethical mandates that can’t be breached, or at least limit evil to misdemeanors. But, we’ve witnessed miracle after miracle from the God we love in response to purposeful felonies. We know he can make everything all right. If we believe the scriptures and our own eyes the evidence is overwhelming. What’s he waiting for? 

That’s it! That’s the right question to ask. What’s he waiting for? When we become convinced God wants the best from us and will aid us in becoming better persons we know our desire matches his. So, why not now? Why does he wait?

God is waiting. That’s the answer. It’s not our plan. It’s his. Early in Genesis we read that Jacob tells Judah about God’s plan. “The scepter shall never depart from Judah.” It didn’t. The other tribes waffled. The Jewish nation is named from Judah, the fourth son of Jacob. The tale of God’s people identifies the story of God’s waiting, his incredible patience. 

Fourteen generations separated Abraham and David, David and the Babylonian exile, and another fourteen from the Babylonian exile to Christ. God has more plans afoot. That’s the answer. The litany of folks who begat and begat and begat from Jacob in order to get to Joseph and Mary were all a part of the longest story in the history of the universe. From the first intense blob of mass at he big bang until right now a complex, divinely orchestrated plan has unfolded as the willful designs of people opposed or in favor of God have fought out over the millennia.

At each begetting another person is created. This is God’s plan. He’s engaged us in a partnership of love — populate creation. He obviously wants more people, because births continue.

In addition, God has explained over and over that the course of human population would include his joining us with the birth, death, and resurrection of his son. God created a universe he also wants to inhabit. The story did take place. Jesus was born, lived, died, and conquered the sting of sin — death . Then he told us his Holy Spirit would now guide each of us. We Christians believe this is true. 

God did this for love, fully aware that many of us would reject him, disobey him, and ultimately deny him. They have. Their lives have disappeared from his sight.

Our sin, and the sins of our ancestors, have created the frightening state of being called hell with God’s permission and cooperation. The damnation of those who have chosen that path is within our own grasp. Once we have tasted the love of God, though, it’s not just fear that hurries us back to God. It is the incredible delight he has in us, and our ecstatic peeks into the heavenly life with him.

And now we can approach the subject of the devil. But, as we had to let the idea of sin sink in, we now have to reset our sites upon God’s plan. Consider the love of the creator who became one of us. 

The devil will have to wait.