The longer I live, the more I see the danger of assumptions --
beliefs we hold but never really examine. Perhaps this is why it thrills
me to discover a new perspective that challenges my assumptions. I'm on
one of these tears right now, and it's about a big one.
I
would guess most of my generation in the U.S. doesn't believe in a
specific after-life. We're too "scientific" for that. Heaven sounds a
little too much like Santa Clause. But an even smaller number would
admit to believing in Hell. I feel repulsion just typing the word.
Which
is kind-of staggering, when you consider that an after-life is a major
piece of every world's religion, and Hell plays prominently in several.
For centuries, it was the posterboy for Christianity: Fire and
brimstone, anyone?
A while ago, there was a big to-do
about a book that challenged Hell's existence or relevance. Soon after, I
added Francis Chan's response to my Wish List.
Which is how I wound up getting a book about Hell for Christmas.
But what really took me by surprise
was my own reaction to it. I have grown up in a Bible-believing family,
and today I live in a very conservative Christian bubble. Yet I still
find the idea that Hell could really exist incomprehensible. It's not that I disagree with the idea, it's that my brain can't figure out how to process it.
Why??
Most of the world has no problem believing in Hell. Most people
throughout history have assumed it exists. What's my problem?
My latest guess? I think it's because I live so far from hell - from recognized,
overt evil. If I'd experienced a holocaust, I imagine my ability to
understand evil and its consequences would be vastly different. Instead,
I feel like a citizen of The Capital in The Hunger Games -- too comfortable, too spoiled, too naive to imagine we're doing anything wrong.
The
fact is, I live in an entitlement culture* -- one that turns every
habitual failure into a disease, every natural impulse into an identity,
every ideal into a right. No one "sins" anymore, and certainly nothing
is "evil"! Society has experienced a gradual shift to not just tolerate
but to legitimize any behavior -- and to divorce that behavior from its
destructive consequences (to eliminate guilt). As a result, self-denial,
punishment, and discipline are practically taboo, because they imply
that some things are wrong and we're responsible to resist them. It's
one grand way of trying to erase evil, though it just makes evil harder
to recognize (and thus more dangerous).
Still, I am not
immune to this culture. I want everything and everyone to be OK. I
don't want to be guilty. I rather like that I'm rarely held to a higher
standard. Self-discipline in my life usually means I eat one cookie
instead of two. Or I do the jobs I love anyway. It is so easy to
rationalize my own laziness and under-appreciate evil. I even see it in
my doctrine: I'm so saturated with teaching on God's love and grace,
that I was shocked to discover how many times Jesus actually repeated
the words "weeping and gnashing of teeth."
I remember once hearing a British writer describe why murder mysteries are so
popular -- because the murder sets everything into dramatic relief. The
darkness of the deed makes its context bolder, more important, and thus
more interesting. I'm still trying to figure out how Hell affects my
functional worldview, but so far, I can see glimpses of how such a dire
endgame would have a similar impact on life. So I'm going to start with
recognizing the sin in my life (easier than I'd like to
admit) and the practice of a little more discipline -- not to avoid
Hell, but to correct my view of what's going on here on Earth.
*I'm not referring to government programs here but a broader mindset about our collective social norms.
No comments:
Post a Comment