Innocent by Association

I have a relative who spent time in jail because he was with a group of people who robbed a convenience store. It didn’t matter that they testified he had no knowledge of what they were doing. He was with them - guilt by association.

I wasn’t at the trial, but I seriously doubt that any lawyers suggested that the other people be acquitted because there was an innocent person with them - there is no “innocent by association” in our system of justice.

And yet, that is precisely what Abraham asks God for in Genesis 18.

Then the LORD said, “The outcry against Sodom and Gomorrah is so great and their sin so grievous that I will go down and see if what they have done is as bad as the outcry that has reached me. If not, I will know.”

 The men turned away and went toward Sodom, but Abraham remained standing before the LORD.

Then Abraham approached him and said: “Will you sweep away the righteous with the wicked? What if there are fifty righteous people in the city? Will you really sweep it away and not spare the place for the sake of the fifty righteous people in it? Far be it from you to do such a thing—to kill the righteous with the wicked, treating the righteous and the wicked alike. Far be it from you! Will not the Judge of all the earth do right?”

If you’ve read the story you know (and if you haven’t, check out the rest of Genesis 18) that this leads to a really interesting “negotiation.” In truth it isn’t a negotiation, God never counters. Abraham asks God to show mercy and God agrees. Then it just stops at 10.  God never said, “Okay, 10, but that’s my final offer.” Why not keep pressing to 1?

One possible reason is that the numbers aren’t the point. This passage makes us uncomfortable because it seems like Abraham is teaching God about righteousness...so we explain it away. There are plenty of statements made (I’ve made several myself) about how God already knew Abraham would ask these questions. Giving Abraham a chance to stand up for others was God’s plan all along. But there’s 2 problems with that theory.

     1.  It makes God deceptive. He basically lied about his plans to Abraham in order to goad him into standing up for others.
     2.  The text itself never says anything to support this theory. From the perspective of the story, God was fed up and was ready to destroy everyone in the city (if “what he’d heard” was true...which is another interesting tidbit.)

Perhaps the “negotiation” ends abruptly because its really just beginning. The Bible doesn’t seem nearly as uncomfortable as we are about presenting God as one whose decisions can be swayed and mind can be changed by the pleading and reasoning of people. Moses did it a few times (see Exodus 32:9-14; 33:1-17), Abraham does it, the prophets repeatedly tell Israel that God will relent (see Hosea 11:8-9) if they’ll cry out in repentance and learn to seek justice rather than rebellion (see Isaiah 1...and the rest of Isaiah).

But, back to the matter at hand.

What Abraham asks isn’t merely the deliverance of the righteous, but the deliverance (at least for now) of the entire city on account of the righteous. This isn’t the way the legal system works now, and it wasn’t the way it worked then. Guilt seems to have a wider circle of influence than innocence. And yet, one reason that this conversation in Genesis 18 is so important is that it points to a day when that will no longer be the case. In a way, this conversation is foreshadowing.

What did “the visitors” find in Sodom? They found a man who immediately offers them hospitality (in a very similar fashion to the way Abraham had received them outside the city). They also find a violent mob meaning to do them harm. Then this valiant and hospitable host steps out to stop the crowd and offers himself in their place, right? Nope, he offers the crowd his daughters. This is complete speculation, but I wonder if things would have turned out differently if Lot had offered himself as a sacrifice? Perhaps this would have been the righteousness that God was seeking in order to relent. Maybe not.

The speculation doesn’t really matter because Lot doesn’t offer himself, he offers his daughters. The visitors pull him back into the house and tell him to get out of the city.

In Romans 5, Paul picks up on this theme when he says that just as guilt came into the world through one man, now rescue has as well. The innocence of the one has finally spread to cover the guilt of the others. Unlike Lot, Jesus offered himself to the angry mob.

Genesis 19:27-28 is an incredibly depressing statement and yet it seems to be filled with meaning and significance:

Early the next morning Abraham got up and returned to the place where he had stood before the LORD. He looked down toward Sodom and Gomorrah, toward all the land of the plain, and he saw dense smoke rising from the land, like smoke from a furnace.

Abraham saw no life, no deliverance, just death and destruction. I think its interesting that the story comments that he went and stood in the place where he’d stood with the Lord the previous day. From Abraham’s perspective this must have been devastating - Even after an encouraging conversation, God has not delivered the city. What hope is there?

And yet the next verse is like postscript ending to a movie that lets you know without doubt that a sequel is planned:

So when God destroyed the cities of the plain, he remembered Abraham, and he brought Lot out of the catastrophe that overthrew the cities where Lot had lived.

The blessing of Genesis 12 which promised that others will be blessed through Abraham is starting to become a reality. The conversation is far from over...it is, in fact, just beginning.

Confident Humility

Kids playing in the living room, contemporary Christian song playing in the background. Safe and fun for the whole family, right? Well, its certainly better than 7 year-olds taking in Lil Wayne lyrics uncritically, but...

I wasn’t really listening consciously but suddenly realized that I was frowning. It dawned on me that the theological conundrum I was wrestling with was stemming from the music wafting through our house. The basic idea of the lyrics was: God doesn’t ever let us down. God loves us. We don’t deserve this, we don’t deserve God, we’re pathetic.

I looked at my wife and asked her, “What would you do if you overheard one of our boys telling their friends that we love them even though in our eyes they are pathetic?” To this Rachel replied, “It would break my heart.”

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Last night I had a nearly 3 hour conversation (over the course of a 6 hour work shift) about God, salvation, evil, hell and whether or not Love Wins with a young man who is working on a political science degree. I was somewhat surprised by the position this guy raised in a conservative Baptist church had settled on.

Then I spent the next 6 hour shift in short bursts of conversation with another young man who is quite pleased that none of the felonies he committed as a minor ever stuck on his record. He seemed most pleased that he’d been able to have lots of fun and get away with it!

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At the heart of our discussions of heaven vs hell and salvation vs damnation lies an often unspoken question, “What kind of god is God?”

I am a part of a worshipping community that focuses on the good news that God has come to redeem that which was lost, heal that which was broken and reconcile that which was painfully separated. Though it comes up occasionally (thanks in part to Rob Bell), hell isn’t a common topic of conversation in the midst of our worship gatherings or shared meals. However, it comes up with great frequency in my conversations with those who’ve been hurt by Christians in the past or have never even had much connection to a gathering of Christians.

Some of these folks question from a place of rebellion, others from a place of pain, rejection, frustration and disgust. It has, in effect, been said to me, “If God is going to send me to hell after this life because I couldn’t put up with the hell in his church during this life, then to hell with God.”

Meanwhile, another friend of mine, very much a committed Christian, often makes comments about how sinful and evil we are; how without the blood of Christ, God cannot stand the sight of us. I’ve said this before on this blog, but it sickens me to think that God could only love me if, like Jacob with his father, I’m tricking him into thinking I’m actually his favorite son.

The egotistical (and insecure) college student, the rebellious miscreant with a heart of gold, the twenty-something Calvinist, the seven year-old wonder boy, the thirty-one year-old minister/salesman/security guard/grad student/husband and father...all of these people are loved by God, flaws and all.

That isn’t to say that God doesn’t want better things for us, that God doesn’t call us to a higher standard, that there aren’t consequences for the choices we make, or that God doesn’t have plans to prosper us and not to harm us (a message originally delivered to people living in captive exile).

There are plenty of conversations floating around right now about hell, I’m not interested in getting into that one too much right now. What I do want to be on record for, however, is stating my deeply held belief that God’s love and mercy is vastly more expansive than our own. At the heart of any discussion about theology or church or Jesus or whatever, the question rings out, “What kind of god is God?” While I wrestle with how to answer many of the more surface-level questions, I cling to a belief that the answer to this one is simple. God is love and Love is good.

On this issue I cannot waiver, because if I do, I don’t think I’ll be able to find much reason to keep pressing forward. As I move outward from this central conviction, I believe it is necessary to hold everything else with a confident humility...or a humble confidence...or something like that.

What’s the point of convictions if we don’t believe them? If we believe them, we should hold on to them. But the reality is, there are plenty areas in which I’ve grown and had to let go of certain previously held convictions. So I hold my convictions with confidence but also with humility, knowing that I could be wrong. This should lead (and I confess that it doesn’t always) to treating those with whom I disagree with gentleness. Admittedly, and to my discredit, I am noticeably better at this with non-believers than with fellow Christians.

May God strengthen us to hold to our convictions in such a way that honors Love. And may we continue to hope for the reconciliation of all things by the power of the Love That Will Not Let Us Go.

Chatty Cathy's Thousand Word Reply

My friend Anthony left a comment on my previous post asking a couple questions. When my response reached post length I decided to just put it up here! So with that said here's the comment and my reply.

Anthony says:

Ok, I’m a latecomer to this conversation, but thought I’d chime in anyway. I have no time to go finding a bunch of texts to buttress a position, so I will assume that we all share a common general knowledge of the same story. Anyway, I have two questions regarding Bret’s position, which may be completely right, I just have some questions.

1) Is God’s wrath passive — leaving us to the consequences of sin, but without active intervention on his part? “Passive wrath” sounds like an oxymoron.

2) Was the death of Christ necessary? Jesus prayed that the cup be taken from him if there was any other way. Did the Father say, “I could do it another way–but this one shows the depth of our love better than the others”? Or was there really no other way that we could be saved?

My reply:

Anthony,

Thanks for the comment/questions.

First, I wouldn't use the word passive. I for sure think that it goes too far to say that across the board God's response to sin is passive - though I think there is plenty of evidence to show that one response of God's wrath is choosing not to intervene.

We know that for those who consistently choose to live rebelliously God will give them over to their sinful desires...the result of believing a lie is living into that lie. Is that passive? I don’t know that passive is the best descriptor, but neither does it fit the view of vengeful God doling out punishment.

Also, as I pointed out in the previous post, Galatians 6:7-8 says "Do not be deceived, God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows. The one who sows to please his sinful nature, from that nature will reap destruction; the one who sows to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life." I've heard it said here that God pours out his wrath on those who sow to please the sinful nature. However, it makes at least as much sense (and I honestly I believe it is more true to the text) to say that God allows us to reap the natural consequences of what we've worked to achieve.

In that way it does seem that the Wrath has a passive component - the wrath is the withholding of rescue that has been rejected.

I do not believe that God's only response to sin is passive/not responding and I don't know whether “passive wrath” is an oxymoron or not. However, at the risk of going more philosophical than anyone wants: if God is omnipotent, to choose NOT to act isn't really passive, it is a significant action.

In either case I believe that God's wrath, be it active or passive or some paradox of the two or something else entirely, is meant to be redemptive. And that leads to your other question.

Was the death of Christ necessary? I'm not sure if that's the right question for this conversation. I would say that Christ's death was necessary - just perhaps not for the reasons we've traditionally held. Taking your hypothetical God to Jesus statement "This one shows the depth of our love better than the others"

I’m not sure but I think you probably meant that as a tongue-in-cheek obviously wrong answer, but perhaps that “argument” would be more compelling for God than it is for us. The deepest display of love may in effect be “the only way” precisely because God IS the deepest display of love.

The question we’re really wrestling with here (or at least that I'm wrestling with) is whether the death of Christ was the only way for God’s irrevocable demand for justice to be satisfied. Or beyond that, is the satisfaction of God's righteous wrath and need for justice the crux of our salvation?

Perhaps we've too narrowly defined what it means to "be saved." Is our salvation merely the satisfaction of God's righteous anger? Who are the players in this drama? Is God the protagonist and humanity the antagonists? Or vice versa?

Are not sin, death and satan the true enemies? Is it possible that we, marred as we are by sin, have perhaps been held captive by the enemy or even foolishly (and often unknowingly) aligned ourselves with the enemy?

There is no other name in heaven or earth through which salvation is available than that of Jesus - this I fully affirm. To whatever degree that sins must be atoned for it is only through the incarnation, death and resurrection of Jesus that atonement is made possible. Whatever rescue is available, God has fulfilled it through Christ.

But I still contend that we devalue the true wonder, power and profound love/kindness (chesed) of God by placing such emphasis on penal substitution and God's inability to forgive any offense without the taking of a life.

Many brilliant folks through the years have put forth views of God’s justice and holiness which demand that he have satisfaction. My dissent is not to the position but the degree to which that position is held. I agree that God is righteous, holy and just. I’m not so sure I agree that God’s demand for justice outweighs all else. Why then should Jesus have taught us to turn the other cheek? Why then would Paul have said, “Why not rather be wronged? Why not rather be cheated?” (1 Cor. 6).

In a previous conversation the response to this was that God’s demand for justice is unavoidable but he shows his grace by sending Jesus as a scapegoat. Okay. That still leaves me with questions of why we then are commanded to forgive. “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” Do we forgive those who trespass against us by demanding the death of an innocent?

I find little support for saying we are to forgive only once justice has been enacted. And I believe it is a cheap forgiveness indeed to say, “you can forgive them and move on because God’s going to punish them in the end.” There doesn’t seem to be any real forgiveness taking place there. And doesn’t that only work if they aren’t “saved”? Otherwise they avoid punishment - which then leads me to cry out for justice...which I apparently won’t get.

However, if the message is that through ultimate sacrifice we learn to have peace even when justice is denied...

When God incarnate makes the choice to NOT continue the cycle of vengeance and retribution (what if Israel and Palestine could get that concept??) When he willingly lays down his life rather than demanding the justice he deserved. When God made that choice he stepped into the middle of an unending cycle of sin and death and sent the whole thing spiraling in a new direction. Then justice was indeed served when Jesus rose from the dead, vindicated and glorified.

Perhaps our mistake is confusing the issue of satisfying God's wrathful requirement for justice with the issue of our salvation in Christ as though the two were synonymous. We've treated them as such but, again, just perhaps they aren't.

Perhaps there have been many things throughout history which have appeased God's wrath - sacrifice, repentance, a broken and contrite heart and faithfulness to name a few. But perhaps our salvation is about more than that. Perhaps our salvation, found only in the power of Christ, is the restoration of God's Kingdom; the defeat of the enemies of sin, death and satan; the healing of wounds; the end of death; our transformation into fully human creatures, once again bearing fully the image of God without blemish or scar. And perhaps wrapped up in that is indeed the appeasement of God's wrath...but its wrapped up in it, it isn't IT. Only the power of God could accomplish all that - there is no human effort or sacrifice possible beyond the fully human and fully divine sacrifice of Jesus himself.

Yes, I think that the death of Christ was necessary and I think it was much more valuable than just a penal substitution.

Anthony, I don't know if answered your questions or just used them to launch into another tirade.

If nothing else, I think its clear that I don't buy into the Calvinist/Reformed determinism theology. I've received a couple questions asking, since I'm obviously not very Augustinian/Calvinist in my persuasion do I consider myself Pelagian or Arminian or something else. Most of the 3 people who read this blog regularly either don't know or don't care what that means, but I will post a reply to that question in the near future.