This week I have the daunting task of teaching on the myths and realities of hell to our youth group as we wrap up our series on apologetics. Not exactly my favorite topic to teach on, to say the least. To be honest, it’s my least favorite; it’s not fun. However it is a reality that the Bible presents, and therefore it is necessary to teach it biblically. As I’ve been studying and preparing the lesson, a growing weight has been upon my heart: A sadness and sense of urgency for the lost and those who might know of Christ but don’t really know Christ in a saving relationship. The writings of Wayne Grudem describe the emotional flurry of this:
“What are we to think of this doctrine? It is hard-and it should be hard-for us to think of this doctrine today. If our hearts are never moved with deep sorrow when we contemplate this doctrine, then there is a serious deficiency in our spiritual and emotional sensibilities. When Paul thinks of the lostness of his kinsmen the Jews, he says, “I have great sorrow and unceasing anguish in my heart.” (Romans 9:12).
The specific question I’m supposed to address is whether or not Hell is God’s “torture chamber”. Depending on how we answer that question it makes some implications about God’s character. First, let me just clarify that to describe Hell as God’s torture chamber is inaccurate because it does not function as a place for God to experiment with ways to cause increased pain and suffering. That’s NOT who God is. However, I know the typical cultural response to the reality of Hell is that, if it’s real, then God must be mean or cruel. I understand the train of thought that leads to this conclusion, but there are two things that such a thought process does not take into account: one, a concept of justice and two, the underlying grace of God.
Let me tackle the issue of justice with a story. When I was a kid, I was definitely on the rambunctious side of the spectrum when it came to childhood personalities. My parents had a very clear set of rules and consequences if my siblings and I broke those rules. One rule was that we were not to use “bad words” a.k.a. swear words. Before it ever happened, my parents explained that if we ever used any “bad words” we would have our mouths washed out with soap - a common disciplinary action for those that take disciplinary actions against such things. And looking back, I have to agree that the punishment fit the crime. So, one time, when I was younger (somewhere between the age of 6 and 10) I became upset about something – with my childhood record, it could have been anything. But, in my anger I swore, and my parents definitely heard me. Now, I may not remember all the details of what lead up to this event, but I remember what happened afterwards - vividly. My mom walked over to me and calmly said, “Jacob, you know what you did and you know what we have to do now.” At that point the water works and pleas for mercy began. My mother again, very calmly, prompted me to go into the kitchen with her and stand by the sink. While crying profusely, I obeyed, knowing that I did not want to make the situation any worse. She turned on the faucet, grabbed the sponge and the dish soap. We had one of those two sided sponges with the yellow fluffy side and then the green “scratchy” side for those real sticky blemishes. Mom turned the sponge over so the green side faced up. Then she squeezed one small stripe of soap across the coarse surface, about an inch long, but man, did it feel like a mile. She rubbed it in with her thumb until it started to form all those little suds which, at that moment, became the most terrifying thing on the planet. Mom in a soft, yet stern voice said, “Open your mouth please.” Amidst the sobbing, I obeyed and stuck my tongue out as far as I could, hoping that it would somehow make it less awful. My sentence was carried out. Realistically it lasted about ten seconds, but looking back now, it seemed like days. Now in our culture today there are plenty of people who would say that such a course of action was mean. But even as the one who was punished, when I look back I can’t justify declaring my mother to be cruel in that situation. She specifically told me what was right, what was wrong and what consequences there were for doing wrong. So, therefore my conclusion has to be that mom wasn’t being mean, she was being just. And regardless of where you may stand on the conservative to liberal spectrum of political philosophy, justice is something we all value and is crucial in order for our society to function with any measure of peace. If our government neither clearly explained the law, nor enforced it, just imagine the chaos that would ensue. Sure, there are issues where the punishment in certain situations may not fit the crime, and regardless of justice, people still choose to live in a way that goes against the law. But the justice system is something we need. At its core it is good and necessary.
So if God has clearly told us what is right, wrong and what the consequences of doing wrong are by giving us the Bible, can we call God “cruel” or “mean” for fulfilling the standard of justice that he has set in place? Now, I understand that there is more to this argument than that, but I’d rather not write a thirty page term paper today.
The second thing that my preparations have led me to reflect on is that the reality of Hell actually reveals the grace of God presently. Just stay with me here and take a look at 2 Peter 3:9-10:
“The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance. But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a roar, and the heavenly bodies will be burned up and dissolved, and the earth and the works that are done on it will be exposed.”
In this whole chapter Peter is talking about “judgment day” or the “day of the Lord”; a day that the Lord has promised will come, and, although there are no specifics in terms of when this will happen, there are a lot of specifics about what will happen. God is going to complete His final act of justice, leading His people to the eternal Promised Land, doing away with sin, death, the devil and all the sufferings of the world as we know it. This will be a day that is both glorious and terrifying. But here’s the deal: God is waiting, holding back the reigns of that final act of justice, so that more hearts will turn to Him and be saved. I know a lot of times, within the Church, there is a longing for that day to come. I understand this and look forward to that day with hope, but if I’m honest, I don’t want Him to come back yet. There are still so many of my friends, family, youth, co-workers, and perhaps some of you reading this who don’t yet know Him. And I know that if Christ were to come back, they (and perhaps you) would be on the other side of God’s justice. That’s the great “sorrow and unceasing anguish” Paul is talking about in Romans 9:12. And even though this same sorrow grips my heart, I do not feel led to accuse God of cruelty, but instead to thank Him for being a God of justice (which is necessary for there to be peace) who has graciously waited for me, and is still waiting, that more of those I know and love might be saved.
