Wrestling with anxiety?

Jesus said to his disciples, Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothes… Who of you by worrying can add a simple hour to your life. Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest? Luke 12:22-26

Are you prone to anxiety? I knew somebody once of whom it was said that if she didn’t have something to worry about she would worry about not having anything to worry about.

Ha-very-ha. But of course it isn’t really funny. Anxiety can be a truly crushing weight, dominating a person’s life. And, as we look on, we might be tempted to say, given that person’s circumstances, “and I don’t blame them!” The assurance “Don’t be anxious” or simply “Oh don’t worry!” can come across  terribly glib, and we can all think of people both in our own personal circle and in the wider world to whom it would seem shallow and even cruel, however well-meaning. It’s like cheerfully saying to someone “Be well!” or “Be happy!” when well-being or personal happiness are completely beyond their control.

Yet doesn’t Jesus do exactly that? To his disciples he says “do not worry about your life…”. Given that we know he is anything but shallow or cruel, we can only deduce that he wanted them to reflect upon the reality of anxiety and learn to bring it under some kind of control when it rears its ugly head. Anxiety is a beast; but the question is, Can we, with the help of the Holy Spirit, render it a tame beast?

I hesitate to offer my thoughts, because I tend to err on the happy-go-lucky side myself, like a man I once knew who simply refused to worry about anything, blithely assuming that because God loved him everything would be fine. Well, that was all very well; but you only had to look at his wife’s face to see who did the worrying in that family…

In other words, some degree of “anxiety” is inevitable – the opposite is not necessarily faith or trust but, frankly, irresponsibility. (If you are technically minded you might be interested to know that the word used in Luke12:22 for “worry” (frowny face) is the same as that used by Paul in 2 Corinthians 11:28 for “concern”(smiley face). In a nutshell, there is a right and proper kind of anxiety.)

Having said that, can we say anything else that might be helpful when it comes to wrestling with anxiety? I suggest three things…

First, remember that the only true foundation for freedom from anxiety is childlike trust in the fatherhood of God.

Jesus teaches us to address God as “Our Father in heaven”, and given that his fatherhood is perfect why should we doubt it? Our problem is that that trust often blows hot and cold.

I suggest that every so often we may need to give ourselves a serious talking to, to “take ourselves in hand”. This talking to might run along the lines: “Do I believe that God is my loving heavenly Father?”... “Of course I do!”… “Yes, but do I really believe that God is my loving heavenly Father?”… “Well, yes, certainly…” “Good… but do I really, really believe that God is my loving heavenly Father?”… “Er, yes, I think so…” “Well, start acting like it then!”

Is it about time you took yourself seriously in hand?

Second, remember that God’s time-scale is very different from ours.

Of course, we want freedom from anxiety - and we want it now. That’s natural enough. But it isn’t the way God works: he has many other plates to spin of which we know nothing. So a worry may have to be wrestled with for a lengthy period – even (and how hard is this?) a whole lifetime. It may take that long to learn the art of trust.

If that sounds rather grim, we need to remind ourselves that our Father is in the business of changing us, of re-making us, of making us more like his Son; he’s not, if I can put it so, just messing around. In the context of everyday life this process may seem unbearably long, but in the light of eternity it is next to nothing. In 2 Corinthians 4:16-17 Paul –  a man who knew what he was talking about! – spells it out: “Therefore we do not lose heart… For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal weight of glory that far outweighs them all…”. Oh, our troubles may not seem “light and momentary” now, but when we look back from our heavenly home how different it will seem!

Are we learning to be patient with God?

Third, remember that God works with the grain of different personalities.

Putting that another way, some people are naturally less anxious than others. Their temperaments are placid, and it takes a lot to trouble and unsettle them. This may have nothing to do with their spiritual strength – quite possibly they simply had a settled and secure childhood, or have enjoyed good physical health throughout their lives; they may be blessed with a particularly happy marriage, or a particularly satisfying job. Others have had to battle severe storms and have known great sorrows, which has left them ragged and insecure. Men and women are made of very differing raw materials: look at those great friends Barnabas and Paul; look at Simon Peter and his temperamental ups and downs. We shouldn’t make excuses for ourselves; but at the same time let’s not be too quick to “beat ourselves up”!

If these thoughts are correct, what they amount to is this: Jesus gives us the responsibility, by his grace, not to cave in to anxiety; but he is infinitely patient with us if and when we do. Our God is a God of new beginnings. Are you due for a new start?

Father, please teach me by your Spirit to keep a clear distinction between a healthy seriousness about life, a proper concern, and a destructive and debilitating giving in to worry. And so may the peace of God that passes all understanding keep my heart and mind day by day. Amen.

Assisted dying?

 

To me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. Philippians 1:21

Jesus said, Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me… I will come back and take you to be with me so that you also may be where I am. John 14:1-3

My little world has been rather full of death recently, or the close threat of it: friends and loved ones dying or very ill; well-known figures suddenly taken; even watching the latest episodes of the Thomas Cromwell series; and then, just as if to rub it in, along comes the parliamentary debate on “assisted dying”.

So what’s new there, then? Of course, not much at all; we live in close company with death every minute of every day. But somehow, as we say, “it really comes home to you”, doesn’t it? Suddenly, as you look at yourself, you realise that death is no longer something that only happens to other people…

Whatever our view might be on assisted dying, we who call ourselves Christians need to take positive steps to ensure that we don’t let ourselves get sucked into the gloominess that characterises many of those who, as Paul puts it, “have no hope” (1Thessalonians 4:13).

Reflecting on Paul’s great declaration in Philippians 1:21 is as good a  safeguard against this danger as we are likely to find: “to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain” - a mere nine words in his original Greek, while the English NIV translation takes it up to eleven. But what luminous, glowing  words!

Why don’t we know Philippians 1:21 better? Why don’t we put it on a par with John 3:16 or 1 Corinthians 13 as one of the best-known passages in the Bible? If what Paul says is true for himself, why shouldn’t it be true also for us whose hope is in Christ? And if it is indeed true for us, isn’t it something worth celebrating rather than just tucking away at the back of our minds as a distant, even rather theoretical, hope? It chimes in perfectly with the promise Jesus gave to his nervous, “troubled”, disciples in John 14:3.

Please don’t get me wrong. I don’t mean to make light of death - far from it. Death may be defeated in Christ, but according to 1 Corinthians 15:26, it is still an “enemy” (though, let’s note, “the last enemy”). But I am very grateful that Luke, writing Acts, chose to describe honestly the funeral of Stephen in chapter 8 verses 1-3 - those “godly men” who buried him were not ashamed or embarrassed to “mourn deeply for him”. No shallow, false bravado there!

I think of a fine Christian man I once knew who was diagnosed with terminal illness in, I think, his middle twenties. He seemed to be determined to, as it were, not let the side down, so that, even though he had a wife and small children and much else to live for, he seemed to put on a permanent display of unremitting cheerfulness. It came across as  unnatural, and must have been an unhealthy strain on him. One longed to give him permission to relax and be his true self!

Going back to 1 Thessalonians 4:13… the point Paul is making is clear: the fact that we don’t grieve “as those who have no hope” doesn’t mean that we don’t grieve full stop. Of course we do. Grief is the price you pay for love; or, putting it another way, if you don’t love you don’t grieve. Which would we prefer?

So, what should we think about assisted dying?

I imagine that most Christians would accept it only with great hesitation – surely it is for God alone to give and take life, and all sorts of safeguards are needed? That is certainly my instinctive reaction. But as the present debates are demonstrating, perhaps it isn’t totally clear-cut. However strongly we may feel, it is our duty to listen respectfully to those who see things differently, especially if we are reasonably content with our earthly lot; after all, it’s easy enough for us to hold that black-and-white line, isn’t it?

One factor that influences me is very simple – in general, we are living far longer than we used to a hundred or even just fifty years ago, thanks to the wonderful advances in medical science. But sometimes the question arises, May not death be preferable? What’s the point of staying alive if one’s “quality of life” has drained away? The Victorian poet A H Clough wrote, "Thou shalt not kill; but needst not strive officiously to keep alive”, and I suspect that many if not the majority of people probably agree with that.

Another poet, John Keats (who died aged 25), wrote of being “half in love with easeful Death”, adding these very powerful words: “Now more than ever seems it rich to die,/ To cease upon the midnight with no pain…”. By this he presumably meant “to die quietly in my sleep” – and, yes, what many of us fear most is the possible suffering we may have to go through, and, of course, the pain and trouble our loved ones also have to go through.

Assisted dying is a serious and delicate topic for debate. But if we belong to the risen Christ we have a wonderful lesson to teach our loved ones and neighbours – better still, in fact, a wonderful example to set, focussing on the resurrection story of Jesus and the promise he gave his disciples.

Christian, learn to echo the apostle Paul: “… to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain”.

Father in heaven, just as I attempt to live as a witness for you, please help me too to preach the good news of Jesus by the manner of my dying when that time comes. Amen.

God's messy church

²⁴ Jesus told them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like a man who sowed good seed in his field. ²⁵ But while everyone was sleeping, his enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and went away. ²⁶ When the wheat sprouted and formed heads, then the weeds also appeared.

²⁷ “The owner’s servants came to him and said, ‘Sir, didn’t you sow good seed in your field? Where then did the weeds come from?’²⁸  “‘An enemy did this,’ he replied. “The servants asked him, ‘Do you want us to go and pull them up?’²⁹  “‘No,’ he answered, ‘because while you are pulling the weeds, you may uproot the wheat with them. ³⁰ Let both grow together until the harvest. At that time I will tell the harvesters: First collect the weeds and tie them in bundles to be burned; then gather the wheat and bring it into my barn’”…

⁴⁷ “Once again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was let down into the lake and caught all kinds of fish. ⁴⁸ When it was full, the fishermen pulled it up on the shore. Then they sat down and collected the good fish in baskets, but threw the bad away. ⁴⁹ This is how it will be at the end of the age. The angels will come and separate the wicked from the righteous ⁵⁰ and throw them into the blazing furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Matthew 13:24-30, 47-48

These two little parables of Jesus carry pretty much the same message: when he returns in glory there will be a great and final “sorting out” between “the wicked” and “the righteous”, a division that is not clear at the moment. “The Final Judgment”, it’s often called. The weeds sown among the wheat are likely to be harmful, and so have to be painstakingly separated out; likewise the bad fish among the good.

Jesus’ own explanation is given in verses 36-43. His reply rests upon the idea that the whole human race, and not only the church, has an enemy. The good seed stands for “the people of the kingdom” - all men and women who seek to love and honour God - while the weeds stand for “the people of the evil one”, the devil.

Two practical applications spring immediately to mind…

First: Christian, beware of arrogance!

Some strong Christians aim to build pretty much a perfect church here on earth – thoroughly sound doctrine, the highest standards of behaviour, and deeply committed service in terms of worship, prayer and evangelism. Well, nobody could argue with that kind of idealism. But these parables suggest that it needs to be blended with down-to-earth realism: some of the seed will turn out to be poisonous, some of the catch of fish will likewise turn out bad; it is God’s will that “both should grow together until harvest” (verse 30).

I’m sure such Christians don’t intend it, but they can give the impression that “we’re the only ones who’ve really got it right” – of being arrogant, to put it bluntly. Especially in terms of doctrine they sometimes seem to look down their noses at other Christians who, for example, interpret even minor passages of scripture differently.

I have a friend who, along with his wife, was asked by his church’s leaders to leave. Why? Because he had been guilty of some sort of improper behaviour? No. Because he didn’t pull his weight in the life of the church? Again, no. Apparently it was felt that he “didn’t share the vision of the church”, and would therefore be better off elsewhere. All right, I only have his side of the story, but I had known him for two or three years and knew him to be as fine a Christian – humble and teachable - as you could hope to meet. That’s an extreme example of what comes across as arrogance.

The fact is that over two thousand years there has never been anything like a flawless church or a perfect account of Christian teaching – just read Acts and the New Testament letters to see that! Never, literally never. And there never will be until Jesus returns. So let’s always be determined to be humble, reminding ourselves, “it’s me who could be in the wrong”.

To put it slightly differently: Christian, don’t pass judgment on others.

Those who aspire to build a perfect church may be seen sometimes sadly shaking their heads at the errors of others, in practice virtually writing them off. Certainly, any church should insist on certain basic New Testament truths, focussed of course on Jesus, born to the Virgin Mary, living a perfect human life, crucified for our salvation, but raised to life, and one day returning in glory.

But beyond that – denominational differences, musical preferences, doctrines to do with baptism or the working of the Holy Spirit or the timing of Jesus’ return, issues like alcohol and many others – we can, and should, be a little relaxed with those who may see it differently from us, taking care to treat them as brothers and sisters in Christ. Even perhaps the most acute topic of our time, same-sex relations, calls for at least respectful listening and sensitive understanding.

Second, more positively, Christian, never give anybody up!

We human beings are weak and fickle creatures, and while we may be sad to see a fellow-Christian drifting off or even rebelling against the gospel, we can never be sure how their story may end. Remember the prodigal son; remember Saul of Tarsus; remember John Mark.

It seems to suit my temperament to use lists to prompt my daily prayers, and some non-believers or lapsed believers have been on my list for literally years, and I have seen not so much as a hint of an answer. So what am I to do? Shrug my shoulders and give them up? Well, a day may come when I feel it right indeed to take them off my list; but I sense that until I am absolutely sure of that, perseverance is a far better option, even when my heart seems cold. Who knows what God might do, and when?

I visited a church once and was surprised to see someone there I had known many years earlier. We looked at one another in surprise, and then said almost simultaneously, “What are you doing here!” It was quite comical. I like to think that we might have meetings like that in heaven. Why not? Christian, have faith! God has some surprises in store.

That final day of separation will come. Until it does, let’s be patient and persevering. The words of Paul in 1 Corinthians 4:5 are wise and applicable in all sorts of situations: “Judge nothing before the appointed time; wait until the Lord comes”.

We’ve got used to the label “messy church” in recent years – a description of what seems a fine Christian initiative. When I first heard it I must admit that I was a little taken aback. “Oh, not another gimmick”, I thought. But I soon learned differently.

Well, Jesus’ parables seem to suggest that there is a sense in which the church should be “messy”. Christian, live with it! Christian, keep praying and hoping!

Father in heaven, please help me to blend together a proper balance of strong, unwavering conviction and deep, teachable humility – and so, on that day when I see Jesus face to face, may I learn with wonder that my prayers were not in vain. Amen.

Religion that is not a waste of time

Those who consider themselves religious and yet do not keep a tight rein on their tongues deceive themselves, and their religion is worthless.  Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world. James 1:26-27

Over the centuries Christians have sometimes had problems with the Letter of James. Chapter 2 verses 14-26, at face value, seem to contradict Paul’s great emphasis on “justification by faith” (“faith without deeds is dead”! declares James), which makes them uncomfortable, so even such a theological giant as Martin Luther considered this letter “a right strawy epistle” and would have liked it to be removed altogether from the Bible.

If ever we are tempted to think like this, not just about James but about any part of scripture, a good question to put to ourselves is: “Suppose this book really were to disappear from the Bible, would we in fact miss it?” In this case, the answer can only be an emphatic Yes! James is nothing if not practical, and has no patience for any kind of “religion” which is not soundly earthed in everyday life. So we would certainly miss his bracing, no-nonsense approach.

Last time, I wrote about that word religion, and shared my hearty dislike for it – especially when people apply it to me. I mentioned that, perhaps surprisingly, it’s quite rare in the Bible, even in the old King James Version, and it generally has a negative flavour about it. So who better to return to than no-nonsense James in these few verses at the end of chapter 1? It is of course by no means a full-scale account of everything that could be said about religion, but I think it gets to the essence of it. It’s worth picking apart…

“Those who consider themselves religious…”

That doesn’t exactly come across as approving, does it! In my mind’s eye I see James perhaps literally looking down his nose at such people (they “consider themselves religious” invites the follow-on, “Yes, and that is why everyone else dislikes them”). Ouch.

How quick the non-Christian world is to condemn (even if unfairly) anything that smacks of hypocrisy, sanctimony or display! Not that we should go to the opposite extreme and adopt a veneer of over-heartiness and extreme informality, a kind of wilful sloppiness, but… well, we get the point.

“…and yet do not keep a tight rein on their tongues deceive themselves…”

It’s clear that James has a real thing about the way we talk. In chapter 3 verses 1-12 he launches a full-scale attack on the “deadly poison” of wrong use of the tongue. I take this to cover anything from false teaching to lying, to offensive or unclean language, to gossip, to bursts of anger.

It’s hard not to see a very direct relevance of this in western society to what used to be called “public discourse”, whether through radio and television or social media or whatever. If a lie gets you where you want to be, well, go for it! If it makes you feel better to shout or trample on someone’s face or feelings, well, so be it. If a bit of dirt-dishing is to your advantage, well, why not? (and that applies by the way, even if there’s truth in it).

Are our tongues under firm, Spirit-led control?

“… their religion is worthless…”

The dictionary tells me that the word used here refers to “religion in its external aspect”, implying display and ostentation, and that “worthless” could be translated “a waste of time”. Here, again, there is of course a tightrope to be walked. Jesus tells us, after all, to “let our light shine before others”. So let’s work out for ourselves what that might and might not mean. But let’s not miss the warning: your religion and mine could quite possibly be “worthless” in the eyes of God as well as contemptible in the eyes of others.

Lord, give us grace to avoid any hint of inappropriate display of religiousness, but simply to make Jesus known in all our daily living!

But now we come to the positive, refreshing aspect of all this…

“Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this…”

Ah, so the word religion need not be a total no-word! People who aim to live humbly, kindly, generously, unostentatiously, bring pleasure to God himself and also, we may hope, the respect of their family, friends neighbours and workmates (though they don’t set out consciously to do this).

“… to look after orphans and widows in their distress…”

In the Old Testament “orphans and widows” symbolise those who, so to speak, are at the bottom of the pile, the epitome of poverty and dependence on the kindness of others. For us, of course, not all such people are literally orphans and widows; they may be the sick and the lonely; or migrants; or prisoners; or the frail and elderly; or the homeless… I think Matthew 25:31-46 gives us the idea!

And, by the way, the “orphans and widows” we come across may not be fellow-Christians. Let’s remember – before he fed the crowds with the loaves and fishes, Jesus didn’t get the disciples to do a head-count to ensure that everyone on the receiving end was a card-carrying fellow-Jew.

Lord, help me to remember that every person I ever meet is a potential neighbour, whoever and whatever they are!

“…and to keep oneself unspotted from the world…”

I’ve run out of space, so I must leave each of us to work out for ourselves out what this might mean in our particular circumstances. But Paul’s great lists in Galatians 5:16-26 and Ephesians 5:1-20 can, I suggest, point us in the right direction…

Having said all this, it occurs to me that there are those who might criticise James for his disapproving tone and even accuse him of “worthless religion”! I’m sure, of course, that would be wrong. But it reminds us that every which way we go there are mine-fields to negotiate. Whatever, I’m sure James, for all his severity, offers us valuable pointers towards “religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless”. May it be so!

Father, we live in a sadly tainted, polluted world which loves to rub its uncleanness off onto us. Please help me to hunger and thirst after righteousness only, and to do so in humble and unostentatious ways. Amen.

A contradiction in terms?

If a widow has children or grandchildren, these should learn first of all to put their religion into practice by caring for their own family… for this is pleasing to God. 1 Timothy 5:4

Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world. James 1:26-27

In my daily paper the other day there was an obituary column of one of the most famous writers of her generation, a woman of very humble origins who worked her way up to become massively successful (not to mention extremely rich) as a novelist. What specially caught my attention was the way she described her attitude to what we might call “spiritual matters”: “I’ve kept my faith”, she said, “but I’m not religious”.

That’s a statement to juggle with! You might think it’s a flat contradiction in terms – to have “faith”, surely, is exactly what it means to be “religious”? Or, putting it the other way round, not being “religious” means precisely not having “faith”? What could that writer have meant?

The confusion arises from putting together two quite common words, faith and religion, which are both as slippery as eels, often meaning just whatever the person speaking happens to mean by them.

Personally, I hate being described as religious. I used to go to a barber shop where the staff entertained themselves by trying to solve that day’s crossword as they clipped our scalps. I managed to come up with an answer or two over the months, from which they got into the habit of reserving the “religious” clues for me… “Oh, you’re religious, aren’t you? You might know this…”. To which I wanted to reply, “Er, well, actually, I certainly seek to follow Jesus, but I wouldn’t call myself religious…” But I didn’t, of course, in case I might come across as some sort of self-righteous crank.

It's interesting that the Bible uses the word religion only sparingly. I’ve just looked up the KJV and NIV versions of the New Testament, and the word is used only a dozen or so times (though something depends on the translation of various Greek words), and even then not always in very complimentary ways. Unfortunately there isn’t always a usable alternative for us today, but it still makes me squirm. I feel like shouting “Death to all religion!”

But what about “faith”? Ah, that’s a very different matter. It can of course mean “a body of doctrine”, a summary of what particular religious people might believe – as in “the Muslim faith” or “the Christian faith”. I’m much more comfortable with that.

But by far the most precious meaning, surely, is “trust”. This simple but beautiful word conjures up the idea of relationship. The deepest meaning is to do with people; it’s about putting our confidence in another person, a flesh and blood human being. And the wonder of Christianity is that the greatest “person” who exists, God himself, invites us to put our trust in him.

To this we might say “But God himself is not what you have just said, a flesh and blood person. He is spirit!” This is true, certainly. But perhaps the greatest claim of Christianity is that this eternal, holy God “became flesh and lived among us” (John 1:14) so that we can know him personally – and trust him. Jesus is the human embodiment of God, and he teaches us to speak to our God as “Father”. Could there be a warmer, more intimate word?

So what did that writer mean when she said “I have kept my faith, but I am not religious”? We can’t be sure, of course, and it’s not for me to judge, but I suspect something like this: “I still regard myself as a Christian, but I don’t go to church”. (Others sometimes say a very similar thing: “I believe in a spiritual reality, but I have no time for organised religion”.)

The sadness of this is that it results in the worst of all worlds. It’s like saying: “I want the comfort and security of believing in God, but I don’t want the hassle or sacrifice of going to any trouble that that might entail. I don’t want the inconvenience, for example, of getting involved in services of worship, especially if they seem a bit dull or require spending valuable time with people I don’t particularly like. I want faith on my own terms, to be practiced at my own convenience, probably in solitude and perhaps along with a cup of coffee or a glass of something”.

Is that a fair description of the “faith” of such a person? If so, surely they have missed the whole point of Christianity, a faith that involves nothing less, according to Jesus, than “taking up our cross to follow him”, of entering into a deep, warm relationship with Almighty God himself, of learning to love as brothers and sisters people we find it hard to like, and of being re-moulded as a human being into the man or woman I was always intended by God to be.

The nineteenth century preacher C H Spurgeon said something to the effect, “The trouble with many people is that they have just enough Christianity to make them miserable, but not enough to give them joy”. Yes! And isn’t that exactly the worst of both worlds?

I’ve put at the top a couple of New Testament quotes to challenge us about what we might call “true religion”. Perhaps we’ll come back to it next time to find a more positive understanding of what it means to get “faith” and “religion” to merge into one. Please join me.

Dear Father, thank you that I can call you father! Please give me the gift of simple, childlike faith, so that I can know the comfort of trusting day by day in your tender loving care. Amen.

Did God create hell?

This is good, and pleases God our Saviour, who wants all people to be saved and come to a knowledge of the truth. 1 Timothy 2:4

The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. Instead he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance. 2 Peter 3:9

For God has bound everyone over to disobedience so that he may have mercy upon them all. Romans 9:32

“Did God create hell?”

The question came at me right out of the blue, and it sounded a little aggressive, even angry.

I thought I could guess what lay behind it: “Surely, if your God is a God of mercy and compassion, there’s no way he would bring into existence such a terrible place? The very thought is impossible!” Whether we like it or not, very likely most of us have found ourselves thinking such thoughts at various times in our lives.

At one level the answer is obvious: Of course God created hell! Who else could have! The very first verses of the Bible tell us that “in the beginning God created the heavens and the earth”, which we generally take, and surely rightly, to mean that God made everything that exists. So what’s the problem?

Well, that’s logical enough – and yet many of us find that there is a problem, a mental niggle that refuses to go away… There is, after all, not a word in that Genesis account, or indeed in the Bible as a whole, to tell us that God created this destiny called hell, and to suggest he did seems almost blasphemous.

It seems a trickier question than at first appears.

Something may depend on what we mean by “hell”. If we see it as a place of never-ending torment – a kind of cosmic torture-chamber – it’s certainly hard to envisage the God revealed to us in the Lord Jesus Christ as bringing such a place into being.

And even if we treat these pictures – “fire”, “outer darkness”, “weeping and gnashing of teeth” – as symbolic language for loss, destruction, exclusion, never-ending death (as surely we must) it’s still hard to grapple with.

We instinctively cry out, Why! If a person refuses to repent and be reconciled to God, wouldn’t total destruction, straight annihilation, be enough? What need is there for more? Yes, God is holy and perfect beyond our imagining – but what need does even such a perfect God have to inflict eternal punishment on even the worst of sinners? Why would he find it necessary to keep anyone in some kind of existence for no other reason (as it might seem to us) than to cause them pain?

Such thinking is very natural. But annihilation really is not an option, if we want to be true to the Bible. After all, some of the direst warnings about hell come directly from the lips of Jesus himself - for example, Mark 9:42-49 and Matthew 25:46, not to mention the sombre story of the rich man and Lazarus in Luke 16:19-31. The idea of hell is by no means confined to the vivid picture language of Revelation at the end of the Bible.

The Old Testament shows little interest in what we call “the afterlife” - the people of Israel focussed very much on practical life in the here and now. (Isaiah 26:19-21, with its  triumphant cry, stands out as very unusual.) “Sheol”, in particular, sometimes translated “hell” or just “the grave”, seems like a kind of grey spectral underworld where the dead are more like ghosts than people as we know them, and where there is (as far as I know – I am certainly no expert) no suggestion of pain or torment. 

But more relevant for us as Christians are the New Testament texts like the ones at the top of this blog. In Romans 9 Paul makes it clear that what God wants is to “have mercy upon all” people; in 1 Timothy 2 that he “wants all people to be saved”; and in 2 Peter 3, Peter explains God’s seeming slowness to act in judgment as a sign of his mercy and compassion, not indifference, that he doesn’t want anyone to “perish”.

These verses should be taken at full face value; true, they seem to suggest that the ultimate will of Almighty God will in fact be thwarted, and we instinctively respond “But that’s impossible!” But that is a conundrum we must learn to live with: God is not willing that anyone should perish – yet there are those who will perish.

It's as if, when God created the human race, he took a risk; he gave us the freedom to obey or disobey him. And the Adam and Eve story, with which the Bible begins, describes the decision we made – to disobey him. And the result? “The Lord God banished mankind from the Garden of Eden” (Genesis 3:23). And isn’t that “banishment” exactly what hell is? – a separation without end from God, the source of all life and joy. To be cast into hell is, in effect, to suffer the judgment of Eden, only writ large and final. But the key point is that it self-chosen: God, regretfully, gives us what we ourselves have desired.

What about the question I started with: did God create hell? Have I answered it? If what I have said is right the answer could be something like this: No, he didn’t; but what he did create was a race of people to whom he gave the freedom, by disobedience, to create their own hell. Which is exactly what happened. It is possible to be lost. Where exactly hell is located, and what exactly it consists of, perhaps we do well not to probe too deeply, but leave it to the perfect justice and perfect love of a perfectly holy God.

Father, I struggle with this idea of eternal lostness, and I thank you for these Bible verses which tell us that it is not something you desire. Help me to rest this great matter in your hands, trusting in your perfect love, holiness and justice, and to do all I can to let people know that because of Jesus and his cross it need not be. Amen.

True wisdom

1 Solomon son of David established himself firmly over his kingdom, for the Lord his God was with him and made him exceedingly great…

⁷ That night God appeared to Solomon and said to him, “Ask for whatever you want me to give you.”

⁸ Solomon answered God, “You have shown great kindness to David my father and have made me king in his place. ⁹ Now, Lord God, let your promise to my father David be confirmed, for you have made me king over a people who are as numerous as the dust of the earth. ¹⁰ Give me wisdom and knowledge, that I may lead this people, for who is able to govern this great people of yours?”

¹¹ God said to Solomon, “Since this is your heart’s desire and you have not asked for wealth, possessions or honour, nor for the death of your enemies, and since you have not asked for a long life but for wisdom and knowledge to govern my people over whom I have made you king, ¹² therefore wisdom and knowledge will be given you. And I will also give you wealth, possessions and honour, such as no king who was before you ever had and none after you will have.” 2 Chronicles 1:1-12

God is a gracious and generous God to his faithful people… that is the essential message of this story of how Solomon, the new king of Israel, entered his reign as successor to great King David.

We read that God appeared to him at night – presumably therefore in a dream – and invited him to “ask for whatever you want me to give you”. If that’s not generous, I don’t know what is. Solomon famously asked for one basic thing: “wisdom and knowledge, that I may lead this people…” And God, true to his promise, fulfils his word.

But that’s not all: he then goes on to itemise some of the things Solomon didn’t ask for, and says, in effect, “you shall have them too”. And so he grants him the panoply of things that kings were normally expected to have: “wealth, possessions, honour (or reputation)”. No further mention here of long life or victory in battle, but such splendour and dignity as to make him virtually a wonder of the world, drawing visitors from far away to see his magnificence and to sample his fabled wisdom.

(The most famous of these visitors was the Queen of Sheba, 2 Chronicles 9 – though notice that there is no suggestion of a romance between the two of them: how history has loved to embellish the Bible!).

Well, I imagine that most of us live a long, long way from Solomon, in terms of geography and history, not to mention situation. Yet his experience paints for us a very clear picture of the kind of God God is.

Let’s take  a look…

1 He is all grace and generosity.

Like Solomon in his day we too are helplessly inadequate for the task and privilege of following Jesus; so, like him also, we depend totally on these divine qualities.

I knew someone once who held back from choosing to follow Jesus on the grounds (all credit to him for his honesty!) that “I knew I would be bound to fail”. At the time I was myself a very new Christian, and sadly I didn’t have the wisdom to tell him about God’s generous and never-ending love, and to advise him to trust to that as he embarked on the Christian life, and not to worry about his own shortcomings. I have sometimes wondered how things might have turned out differently if I had given him this reassurance.

2 He is a God who cares more about justice and truth than about the outward trappings of power.

This episode gives us a perfect illustration of these as God’s priorities, and so also of what kind of rulers he wants governing the nations.

Oh yes, the worldly trappings may have their place – a little pomp and ceremony may be appropriate - but they come well behind the “wisdom” and “knowledge” that Solomon, in his humility, put first.

Wisdom is a big theme in the Old Testament, associated especially with the books Ecclesiastes and Proverbs (great dipping in books, by the way). But it is not primarily an intellectual ability; it is more a matter of hands-on know-how, the ability to size up a situation or assess a problem and come up with practical solutions.

C S Lewis had an almost frightening intellectual power (as well as a wonderful imagination), but I can remember him declaring somewhere  that he “couldn’t succeed in managing so much as a hen-coop”. A perfect example of the difference between “wisdom” and “intellect”!

James 1:5 holds out an invitation to the humble Christian: “If anyone lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you” - not all at once, perhaps; but that promise stands firm, as King Solomon could have told us.

James 3:13-18 follows this up with a perfect little paragraph on the nature of wisdom: I encourage us to reflect on it for five minutes.

But there is something we must add…

3 Solomon lost his way.

One of the paradoxes of the Bible is the fact that Solomon – yes, humble, childlike Solomon – tragically went astray as he grew older in years and more magnificent in kingly power.

There’s no space to go into it here, but if you would like to follow it up, turn to 1 Kings 11. This long chapter begins with the ominous words “King Solomon, however…” (verse 1), and continues with “The Lord became angry with Solomon…” (verse 9) followed by the story of how “the Lord raised up against Solomon an adversary…” (verse 14). Everything falls apart, and Solomon leaves behind him the legacy of a bitterly divided kingdom. How are the mighty fallen! – and, still worse, how they drag everybody down with them.

This reminds us that we should never take anything for granted. We are called to have confidence in God, of course – but never to be complacent. Sadly, Christians can fall away – Christian, take that possibility seriously!

To finish, why not ponder for a few minutes: If God came to me and asked what I would like him to give me, what would my reply be? Honestly, now!

Father, as I seek to follow Jesus, please help me to keep my eyes fixed on him, and to keep focussed until that day when I see him face to face. Amen.