3 Sentences to Understand Why Some Christian Teachings are so Hard for Us to Accept

“I can’t accept the traditional Christian understanding of hell and judgment because it’s not fair. It makes no emotional sense for God to condemn finite people in an infinite way. God’s love will certainly win.”

“I’m deeply sympathetic to the arguments you are using and the perspective which they come from, but I think you’re missing a bigger problem.”

That summarizes my perspective on a recent discussion I had with a gentleman at a retreat. He approached me and obviously wanted to talk about a subject near and dear to his heart: why the traditional doctrine of hell and judgement is wrong.

He’s read many books about it. Thought about it. Had a variety of points about the topic and a settled surety on his understanding.

It’s not my intention to defend or critique the traditional doctrine of judgment and hell at this juncture–that’s a major undertaking on its own. I want to consider a bigger picture issue about the way we understand ourselves. You see, the mere fact that there is a traditional Christian doctrine of hell and eternal judgment which has been well-articulated, embraced, defended, and trumpeted for centuries, indicates that there is nothing inherently unfair or emotionally unsatisfying about the idea. That we today feel it’s unfair and emotionally unsatisfying tells us something about us, not necessarily about whether the idea is true or not.

I think my interlocutor hasn’t deeply confronted his anthropological presuppositions.

Wait. Come again. Did I miss something? What are ‘anthropological presuppositions’ in plain English?

Certain truths are self-evident (to you)

Thomas Jefferson famously asserted that it is “self-evident” that all men are created equal, with certain inalienable rights.

Most people today scratch their heads at what that could possibly mean coming from the pen of a slave-holding aristocratic gentleman. Jefferson’s anthropological assumptions were on full display in the words flowing from his quill and in the simple fact that he held many human beings as slaves.

To good ole’ TJ, there was no conflict between saying all men are created equal with unalienable rights and holding slaves.

To us today in the West, we see this as an absurd contradiction in his assumptions about the nature of humanity.

That’s when you know you’re dealing with presuppositions. They make all the sense in the world when you assume them to be true, but upon closer inspection, they are shot through with ideas that might be true, but which can’t be proven and which are often mutually contradictory.

Commenting on how ‘fair’ Hell is/isn’t shows our assumptions about who we are

The claim that hell is not fair or emotionally satisfying will likely stop most discussions today.

That is because we have a radically different notion of who we are than most Christians through most of the history of the world have had. And that understanding of who we are makes all the difference in the world when it comes to thinking about what might await us in an eternal afterlife. How did we get to where we are today?

Here’s a 3 sentence summary of how the Western world has developed in our core assumption about the nature of humanity:

  1. God speaks, therefore I am.
  2. I think, therefore I am.
  3. I speak, therefore I am.

Each sentence represents a monumental shift in human self-understanding that we have inherited today.

Take a quick look at the self-understanding each sentence reflects.

View 1: God speaks, therefore I am

Most everyone in the ancient world assumed that humanity was created and/or governed by some higher power(s), be it God, the gods, Fate, the balance of good and evil, etc. Everyone shared the assumption that humanity exists in a world where the table is set by someone/thing greater than we are and we need to get in line.

In this view of life, punishment (and reward) at the hands of the Higher Power makes all the sense in the world. On this view, the idea that there would be no punishment for wicked people is emotionally unsatisfying.

View 2: I think, therefore I am

The French philosopher RenĂ© Descartes famously wrote cogito, ergo sum, “I think, therefore I am.” (Somewhat ironically, this famous line that conveniently marks out modern man’s departure from God comes from Descartes attempt to prove the existence of God via reasonable argument). This simple phrase signals a sweeping change in human self-understanding.

The thinking person is responsive to the world around him/her, but not simply at its mercy.

In this view of life, punishment at the hands of the Higher Power is ambiguous. We’re still responsive to a Higher Power, but we get a hand in setting the table.

View 3: I speak, therefore I am

The current default views us as definers of our own reality. In place of a created servant, and in place of a thinker who responds, we become “man, the Speaker.” The speaker sets the table and the agenda. More than merely responding to reality, the speaker is a co-creator (or sole-creator) of reality.

In this view of life, punishment at the hands of a Higher Power is rather hard to swallow. Mostly, it is outright objectionable. We view ourselves like artists. Yes, people will probably critique our work at certain points–and maybe even God will–but it’s most important that we be true to ourself.

How we see ourselves affects what we think it is fair for God to do to/with us

These 3 simple sentences chart the course for why we struggle so much with the doctrine of hell and judgment today, even though most Christians throughout the ages have not.

We think about ourselves differently than they did.

I’m not sure which way of thinking about ourselves is right.

Each of the 3 views enhances some aspects of truth and obscures others. They are kind of like putting on 3 different pairs of glasses, each with a different color tint on the lenses. Through red lenses, you’re blinded to the presence of red; through blue glasses, blues become white, and so on. Each color lens privileges different aspects of the visible spectrum, and makes others harder to see.

And this phenomenon effects far more than how agreeable or disagreeable we find the idea of judgment and hell.

Why do people need salvation? Are we mostly good by nature? Do we actually need some influence from the Holy Spirit to walk in the right way, or will meditation and therapy suffice? Why can’t I do whatever I want with my sexuality?

Most of the difficult questions in our modern time emerge from our distinct way of viewing the world.

It would be folly to conclude that the answers to the great questions of humanity from the past–including judgement and rewards–are wrong simply because we assume different things to be true about ourselves today. Thus ensues the on-going need to check what we assume to be self-evident about the nature of humanity and what God can or can’t do with us.

Why Do We Pray the Long Ending of the Lord’s Prayer? Because it Belongs to the Great Tradition of Faith

Jesus teaching the disciples to pray

Wait, what? What is the long ending of the Lord’s Prayer?

To clear things up right now, the long ending refers to this line: “For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever. Amen.”

So, what’s the issue?

Observant readers will note that in most modern English Bibles, this line is put in a footnote, not in the text. Is it an original part of the Bible? Why do we pray it?

Here’s the short answer

It’s probably not part of the Bible.

Based on best methods and explanations of the ancient manuscripts we have, this line was not part of the original prayer. It is absent in many of the earliest and best manuscripts as well as the earliest commentaries on the Lord’s Prayer from key early church leaders. Not to mention that there are a few different versions of this long ending scattered in different places.

Why do we pray it?

Because the church has prayed it this way for about as long as we can look back into time.

This ending likely made it into the Gospel manuscripts via using the prayer in church services. It brings a nice, theologically profound, closure to the prayer. As we pray for God’s kingdom to come, as we ask for God to meet our daily needs, we wrap those prayers up in words reminiscent of what the angels proclaim in the heavenlies: Holy, Holy, Holy, is the Lord God Almighty; the whole earth is filled with his glory.

So, we continue to pray this longer ending as part of the people of God stretching across the centuries longing for the kingdom, the power, and the glory of God to be established in all things.

If your appetite is whetted, find some more answer over here

Here’s a decent place to get a longer answer informed by some basic discussion of the textual tradition and the practices of the church emerging in the Reformation Era: Why Do We Say the Long Ending of the Lord’s Prayer?