Once again Survivor has me thinking deeply about Christianity/faith/theology. Last season it was Matt. This season it's Russell Hantz' nephew, Brandon.
Brandon is a Christian. Brandon is also a piece of work. I find myself relating to Brandon, and simultaneously wanting to distance myself from him.
Brandon came on the show openly Christian. Being Russell Hantz' nephew (the biggest villain ever to play the game), he was openly trying to "redeem the family name." He wanted to play an honest, straightforward, Christ-honoring game without the lying, cheating, and backstabbing often associated with the game and with his uncle. Within days of the beginning of the game, however, Brandon (a late 20s early 30s married man) began to notice an attractive woman on his tribe. Threatened by her sensuality (she is actually portrayed in a quite modest light - to be fair that may just be editing), he embarks on a mission to vote her out ASAP. This eventually involves him throwing a fit, telling some lies, and then feeling horribly guilty and laying by the fire covered in ashes (yeah, I kid you not on that last part). Overcome with guilt and shame, he comes clean to his tribe, admitting his wrongdoing and asking their forgiveness. He is clearly tortured by his failures - he continually makes reference to his inability to do good no matter how hard he tries. At the same time he exhibits an attitude of "I did something wrong, so now I will ask for forgiveness and it will all be fine." His tribe is skeptical at best - after all, he is Russell's nephew.
And I wonder...is that really what "salvation" is? Is our friend Brandon really "in" because he adheres to a creed that leaves him blindly judging a woman for her seductive wiles and using his faith to justify getting her out of the game no matter the cost? Is he really "in" because he asked for forgiveness?
I've always known/believed that it is not possible to truly judge the state of someone's soul. This logic has saved me from complete meltdown when a good friend who I was sure was a Christian walked away from the faith. I guess she wasn't really ever in. (Or, alternately, I abandon any notion of "predestination," which is what I pretty much did (at least in practice) as a result of that experience). Only God knows if someone truly meant it when they prayed the prayer.
And yet, I know people here at graduate school who are entirely and openly unreligious and yet who are not only some of the nicest people I've ever known but also champion the cause of the poor and the orphans better and more fully than most Christians I have known.
I have begun to cringe whenever I hear language that refers to God saving only those who acknowledge Him. I have begun to cringe at the thought of a club that one is either "in" or "not in" based either on one's ability to accept evangelical Christianity or their predestined selection by God for salvation. I cringe because I know people who do not believe in God but wish they did. I know people who want most of the same things I want, but just don't put a religious label on it. It's not only the people in ancient America prior to European colonization who never heard the gospel who we can ask hard questions about. It's also every single one of the people I love so dearly who do not ascribe to my religious beliefs. They have their reasons for not. Maybe they were raised to believe that Christianity is the biggest joke ever. Is it a simple matter of changing one's mind to convert to a creed that goes against everything you were raised to believe or have come to believe about the nature of a "God?"
And I am wrestling with this cringing...trying to figure out where my theological allegiance really ought to lie. Because I do not want to believe something because I was raised to believe it, and I don't want to believe something because my liberal education at a state university pushed me there. I want to believe it because I have honestly searched the Scriptures, searched my heart, and talked to wise people and read wise books and have come to a conclusion that I believe at the bottom of my heart to be the most responsible conclusion. And I am fully aware that my presence "in the world," may have corrupted me to the truth...may have made me cringe at the things of God when in fact such an attitude is sin. And so I advance with utmost caution... knowing that where I go there may be no coming back.
At the same time, though, I believe that I am called to cringe. If in fact my non-Christian friends are bound for hell, I still believe I should cringe at that thought. I should err on the side of hoping and praying that Christianity has it wrong on the subject of hell. If hell is what Christians say it is...I don't want it to exist. And even though I believe it does exist in some form (hell was actually the subject of a pretty in depth study I did a few weeks ago), I revolt against the idea that I can pick out who is bound for it and who isn't.
I know what you are thinking (those of you who are evangelical Christians). I know, because I have lived that mindset for forever. I know all of the problems with what I just wrote. I know them, don't worry. But I needed to write it because I feel compelled to honesty here. I feel compelled to follow these horribly hard questions to their natural conclusion (if there is one to be found).
A friend and I are studying salvation this week (which is why all of these thoughts have converged, actually). We're going through our concordances verse by verse looking up all the verses that have salvation in them. I went through the Old Testament and all of the verses I found (with the possible exception of Isaiah) referred to salvation in an earthly sense. Sure, you could draw parallels to a more evangelical Christian sensibility of the word, but the most obvious conclusion to draw was that the Psalmists and others who talked of salvation were talking of deliverance in battle or from a particular enemy, or even from sin in an immediate sense.
And I've also been looking through the New Testament. "Helmet of salvation" from Ephesians 6 is actually a reference to Isaiah.... which is a passage about earthly salvation. What am I do do with that? I think that I need to accept the fact that salvation can be both on earth and other-worldly. But I don't know that for certain.
What about Philippians 2:12? "Continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling." What if we interpret that in its most obvious way...that our salvation is a moment of justification achieved on the cross so many years ago followed by a long period of sanctification, in which our salvation is "worked out." What if that period of sanctification is the important part? What if it's not so much about the justification (at least as it works out in our lives after it has done its initial act of rebirth) but about the being made holy? What if the reason for all of the writing about works in the New Testament is because "those crazy Catholics" had a few things right (namely more of an emphasis on works). Not because we are perfect in and of ourselves, but because Christ's sacrifice on the cross enables us to begin the process of sanctification?
What if "salvation" as a word in the New Testament shouldn't be viewed so completely as "other-worldly?" What if it is salvation from sin every day? What if it is salvation from circumstance on a day-to-day level?
Also fascinating is the word "eternal" in the New Testament. It originally comes form Daniel 12:2. So, the OT was eschatological. What eternal life means, though, is "life in the age to come." Which is interesting, given the conception of eternal in English as something that goes on and on and on. And maybe it has that meaning too, I don't know. I haven't had enough time to study it out fully. But... when the gospel of John uses the phrase "eternal life," it is saying that Jesus is the fulfillment of the OT. That is craziness... the first century was the "age to come."
At this point, I simply must quote a website I just found: "Judaism taught that this eternal life would only appear in God's last day, or in the age to come. John declares that this eschatological day of salvation has already arrived in the Person of Jesus. In Him the life of the age to come has appeared. Eternity has broken into history. This message is every bit as startling as the Synoptic message that the kingdom of God has arrived in Jesus Christ, or the Pauline message that the eschatological judgment with its acquitting verdict has already been revealed in the Christ event, or the message of Hebrews that Calvary is Yom Kippur." http://www.presenttruthmag.com/archive/XXIII/23-8.htm
But that isn't it. John 20:31 - "But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name." Life. The age to come. So what age is being spoken of here? Is "the age to come" already there while John is writing? Jesus came to earth - broke through into time. Brought "eternity" here. And if it's not talking about life in the future... then what is the point of it all? Is John introducing yet another age? I suppose that would explain traditional Christian concepts/passages that seem to talk of heaven (and I'm certainly not trying to debate heaven, at least at this juncture ;) ). But what about Revelation? And, what about the rich man who asked Jesus what he must do to inherit "eternal life?" (life in the age to come according to the above...what age?) Jesus replies that he must love selflessly (give away all his possessions to the poor and then follow Him). To love is to fulfill the law. Thus...the man must take real steps to sacrifice everything to follow Jesus. And then he will have treasure in heaven. that's the really puzzling part of this whole thing, actually. Heaven. Kingdom of Heaven, Kingdom of God... both were on earth as well as "heaven." Is Jesus talking about the Kingdom here when he refers to heaven?
And I ramble, and it's late. And at every turn I am reminded of how little I know about the God I serve. At how little I can truly understand.
I think that's why I feel compelled to ask these questions about salvation and about eternal life. I feel compelled to ask them because I never want to assume that I know how God works. I never want to put Him in a box (as well as all of my non-Christian friends) and simply coast through life assuming I've somehow already been saved. I want to embrace sanctification...I want to strive every day to be more like Christ. I want to shed all of the doctrines I hold that are simply baggage. (Does it really matter what the secret password into heaven is if I am making every effort to model what it means to follow Christ to those around me? Does it really matter what the nature of the judgment is that awaits those whom will not be saved? Does it really matter what heaven is going to look like or when I'm going to get there?
I don't think it does, so much. I think it is far more important for me to err on the side of love. To refrain from living in such a way that obsesses over my membership in the club called "Christian." To instead love God in such a way as to point everyone I meet to Him. To give everyone I meet the chance to meet, know, love and serve the God whose love goes on forever.
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