Justice and the Lake of Fire

Justice calls out:

The punishment must fit the crime!

Created from nothingness we must choose

and be judged by the Son some day

Did we love darkness or light?

Were our actions wicked or true?

Did we believe in him who was lifted up,

or did we look away?

When we cry "Lord, Lord," that fateful day

will Jesus say, I never knew you; depart from me?

If so a terrible penalty must be paid,

first awful knowledge, then annihilation

Those He does not know—undone

The literalist calls out:

That’s not what the scriptures say!

What of the undying worm and outer darkness?

Bodies cast into Hades, Hell, and Abaddon,

the lake of fire, unquenchable flame,

and the rich man's torment?

That’s quite a list, frightful in fact,

but maybe this is the second death

dressed in dreadful metaphor and hyperbole

Perhaps these devices are only flashlights, weakly gesturing

Is not justice a brighter light?

The problem remains, exact reader,

how God—who requires us to do justice,

love kindness, and walk humbly,

could forever torture those that annoy Him

For us cruelty to a fly for a day would be evil

Can the source of all love require souls in endless pain?

On Judgment Day the lost will truly be destroyed,

but eternal torment is not their fate

They did not ask to be brought out from darkness

Darkness will claim them again

Justice is done and the remnant is saved

The Point

In an Emergent Village panel discussion podcast, at minute 46, Tony Jones turns to Diana Butler Bass and suggests: "The point of your life is to influence the church." Diana immediately rebuts: "The point of my life is to do what God tells me to do." 

Perhaps it was just the way Diana said it, but I don't think I have ever heard a clearer statement about God's will.

Some meditations on Diana's statement:

 

The point of my life is to do what God tells me to do.

Our lives have meaning. We are not just a collection of random walks along a meaningless pathway. Each of us has a vector and an impact on the world

 

The point of my life is to do what God tells me to do.

 

We exist as the other–independent of God. We experience free will, and are not slaves to the past. We are not driven choiceless by the forces around us. Like Christ, we have the authority to lay down our lives.

 

The point of my life is to do what God tells me to do.

 

This foreshadowing of the telling carries no direction in itself. It's the commitment to obey the command, the decision to take the step to begin the journey–without knowing the destination. 

 

The point of my life is to do what God tells me to do.

God doesn't ask, except for a few rhetorical questions (e.g., "Who told you that you were naked?"). Normally He tells. This telling can take many forms–from a blinding light on the road to Damascus, to tiny pebbles glancing off our consciousness. But whatever the mode it serves to illuminate a way.

 

But what if God provides no telling for a decision at hand? There is no drawing of a line between God's business and ours. Normally we should just follow our hearts, but listen. As Heidi a.k.a. Virushead says: "God doesn't care what we do–unless He cares."

Usually justice, kindness, and humility require no telling–they call out on their own. 

 

The point of my life is to do what God tells me to do.

 

God's direction is not about theories or corner cases. It's about existence, the moves we make in our lives–the choices, the doing. His direction is more about the event than the flow, the exception not the rule. We can make no presumption of preference–sometimes we are to follow our hearts, at times He redirects.   

Some dis-miss the point because of unbelief.  Others complain that they never hear the telling. The telling might be in Diana's and my imagination, but I am sure of one thing–that regardless of whether we are right or not about this, belief comes first–otherwise there is no point.