The Gates of Hell

So his fellow servant fell down and pleaded with him, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you.’  He refused and went and put him in prison until he should pay the debt. -- Matthew 18:29-30

Last night as I was cutting grass, I started thinking about an event that I may attend this weekend.  If I do there is a possibility that I will run into some people with whom I had a negative encounter several years ago.  These people literally got me thrown in jail.  I was in a holding cell for all of twenty minutes, but it was still a humiliating experience, and the way it was done wounded me.  These were, I should mention, ordained ministers in a solidly Reformed denomination.  I think their justification was that I was something of a bully.  That is, I am not easily manipulated and am rather resentful of any attempt to manipulate me.  I consider manipulation a form of witchcraft. 

So, this man of God and his “submissive” wife, along with a couple of other people, accosted me in my yard one evening with a number of accusations.  The wife, in particular, was shrill and abusive.  I took it for a little while, but when they refused to leave, instead of going in the house and locking the door as I should have, I questioned their ancestry, sexual habits, and the legitimacy of their parents’ marriage rites.   I was still off the leash when a patrol car rolled up to the curb.  One of their other confederates had called in a disturbance.  The woman who had been confronting me so viciously suddenly broke into tears – this is a preacher’s wife, remember – and swore that I had threated her.  Her Greek chorus backed her claim, and I was handcuffed and shoved in the back of the cruiser.  It cost me a lot of time and trouble and good money to get it resolved without too much damage. 

As I was mowing, I was recalling all this and thinking what I might say if I ran into this fine, upstanding Christian couple and their family.  They are such self-satisfied, self-righteous prigs that I would not be surprised – if they remember and recognize me – for them to tell me they forgive me for all I did to them.  In my mind, I ran through a scenario like that, and I considered how I might react, what I might say.  After a bit, the words that came to mind were pretty disturbing:  I would volunteer to burn in hell if it was my job to grind your filthy face into the coals. 

You would think, after all these years, my hatred would be not so white-hot.  The unforgiving servant was so determined to “get his own” that he forgot about his own master’s mercy.  He was willing to forgo forgiveness in order to get revenge.   Same as me. 

I had to wonder if my refusal to forgive and my craving for retribution for more than a decade have not contributed to my touchiness and bouts of depression.  I would like to say I had completely forgotten those who offended me, but I had merely pushed them out of sight.  I blamed myself – and I was certainly wrong to explode the way I did.  Predictably explode, I might add.  It caused me to question the reality of my Christianity.  Only now -- looking back, am I able to more easily agree with the assessment my late, dear mother-in-law voiced as I was being shackled – that they had set me up.  Assuming that it was my fault entirely, I preferred not to think about it at all.  Probably, if I went through the details and a little of the background, I could make an even stronger case justifying my response.  One exchange in particular was extremely provocative.  That serves no purpose and does me no good.  It doesn’t solve my problem. 

In the end there is, to paraphrase Yoda, only forgive or not forgive.  There is only a burning resentment so intense that the fires of hell hold little terror, or release.  I have sought another option.  It does not exist.  Therefore I forgive.   

If I did happen, on some odd chance, run into this nemesis, and, if they were to offer me forgiveness, I will humbly accept it.  If they did not offer, I would ask.  As far as I am concerned, they are forgiven.  I prayed several times last night and several times already today that they would be blessed and their lives filled with happiness.  It's bless or burn.  I'll keep doing it until it is easy.

When they had passed the first and the second guard, they came to the iron gate leading into the city.  It opened for them of its own accord, and they went out and went along one street, and immediately the angel left him (Acts 12:10).

Alone

I never played much in the way of team sports or what most people think of as sports or games – like tennis or golf. I very briefly tried playing basketball in eighth grade, and I boxed and wrestled a little in high school. Mainly I did my schoolwork, did our farm work, did some target shooting, hunted, fished, and rode horses, a bicycle, or a dirt bike. None of this involved much cheerleading. Personally, I never understood the need for cheerleaders. Either you are giving your best effort or you are not. No amount of “support” from the sidelines is going to change what a person is capable of doing.

This kind of thinking probably indicates some sort of character flaw on my part.

Then they all deserted Him and ran away – Mark 14:50

It’s a verse worthy of committing to memory, though it is probably rarely quoted. All the cheerleaders were gone. His teaching, His wisdom, His love and compassion, even the miracles they had witnessed could not hold them. They all deserted Jesus. They left Him to face His doom.

But He was not yet alone. Through the rest of those dark morning hours, the Lord continued to do what He knew He had to do. He had been born for this ugly, painful, humiliating day. He had known all along this was where He was headed. He had, in His humanity, no doubt wondered if there might be some other way of fulfilling the prophecies, perhaps a more figurative, allegorical understanding. Even at the last in the garden, He had beseeched the Father for another path to follow, but when Judas arrived with the soldiers, He knew that was not to be. Still, He knew He was doing His Father’s will in the kangaroo court of the Sanhedrin, before the petty, cynical Roman governor, in the decadent presence of Herod, under the lash at the whipping post, and, stumbling under the weight of the cross, all the way up the hill.

The blood didn’t shake Him. The pain didn’t move Him. He was doing His Father’s will. It had to be done, and He had to do it.

And at the ninth hour, Jesus cried out in a loud voice … “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” – Mark 15:34

Then He was alone.

None Good

As He was setting out on a journey, a man ran up, knelt down before Him, and asked Him, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”

“Why do you call Me good?” Jesus asked him. “No one is good but One – God.”
-- Mark 10:17,18

Rather than eat up Bob’s space with an extended rehash of the obvious and leave myself looking egocentric, I decided to post it here.

I hope Petey doesn’t mind me stealing one of his favorite lines, but this is a One Cosmos one-off, you might say. One of the OC posters, Warren, commented on the “problem of evil” that seems to trouble so many who proclaim themselves to be atheist or agnostic. He said that the existence of evil and suffering in the world moved him toward God rather than away from Him.

Another poster, Erasmus, pulled a quote from Ray Ingles mini-Mein Kampf where Ray dismissed a God that would allow a volcano to erupt and burn up children in an orphanage. He says that God is to blame for all suffering (that is, He would be if He existed). Finally, the inimitable Slim Pickens noted that if he were to blame God for something it would be for creating Ray. Slim’s point is well taken in that, to paraphrase, Charleton Heston, “Evil is people!”

The atheist cannot deal with the righteousness of God or, consequently, the righteous requirements of God. Ray’s statement was indicative, saying, in essence, that it was not fair to rain on both the just and the unjust. Ray, of course, misses the actual point that rain would be a blessing rather than a curse, but we know what he means. God should bless good people and wipe out bad people.

The first and most obvious problem is the one reflected in the Lord’s koan-like response to the rich young ruler quoted above. God alone is good. All humanity is sinful and imperfect. Even the best of us do or have done wicked things. God does not have “bad aim” as Ray facetiously suggests. God is merciful to those of us who do wrong.

As far as disasters, diseases, “tragic” accidents, etc., those are the consequences of living in a fallen world. “In this world,” Jesus assured us, “you will have trouble.” But He goes on to reassure us, “Cheer up, though. I have overcome the world.” The present world, intended to be perfected under man’s dominion, was corrupted by the Fall. It is redeemed by the Last Adam’s obedience, though the full manifestation of that redemption is not yet seen.

Another problem is one cannot comprehend God’s reality if one assumes that when you are dead you are dead. This world is not enough. Certainly if this life is all there is, some relatively innocent people get the short end, while O.J. got by with murder for quite a while. If there is a God (and there is), then this life is not all, not by a long shot. If there is a God, He will even it up, so to speak. Consider a parable Jesus told in Luke 16:19-31 about a rich man and a poor beggar. They both died. The beggar went to paradise and the rich man went to hell, where he, not too surprisingly, began to complain about his accommodations. Abraham chided the man in hell, “Son, remember that during your life you received good things, just as Lazarus received bad things, but now he is comforted, while you are in agony.”

Atheists seem unable to comprehend their own sinfulness. Some make excuses for their bad actions. Other claim they are not bad at all – especially if they don’t hurt anyone else. It is this view of evil as something external to themselves that causes the “problem of evil” to drive them away from religion. On the other hand, those of us who recognize our sinfulness are, as Warren suggested, drawn closer to God in the face of suffering.

You might say, quite biblically, that there is suffering and evil in the world because there are people in the world. Sometimes we reap the consequences of our own evil, sometimes that of others. The atheist asserts that a perfect God would not make an imperfect world. Yet how does the atheist know the world is imperfect? How does he or she know what a perfect God would do? Clearly the atheist is adequate with his finite, inorganically-grown mindless brain to comprehend and judge an infinite Spiritual Being.

Me, I don’t think so much of myself, maybe because I have looked in the mirror, looked in the Mirror, and looked in my heart. I am willing to trust in and rely on the wisdom of God when I see evil, pain, and injustice.