I know all too well that to proclaim a God compassionate enough to seek the rescue of every one of his children--and powerful enough to pull it off--is a dangerous scandal to such folks. In a very real way, they don't even hope for universal salvation. After all, without the fear of their unsaved loved ones' eternal damnation, how would they motivate one another for outreach and missionary service?Apparently he doesn't see obedience to Christ as much of a motivator, and as for the Biblical teaching--including the words of Jesus--about hell and the lack of universal salvation, well the Bible's teaching just doesn't matter.
I still do my best to convince young people to accept Jesus as their personal Lord and Savior, but not because I'm afraid God will damn them to Hell if they don't. On the contrary, I want the kids I love to follow Jesus because I genuinely believe following Jesus is the best kind of life.Of course, if someone believes that raping and murdering Campolo's wife is the best kind of life, they'll still go to heaven without any need to repent, because God loves like that.
I don't hate God because I don't believe God is fully in control of this world yetThat's comforting. The world is out of control, so you don't have to hate God! If He was really in control, we'd be justified in hating Him.
I don't hate God because I believe God is always doing the best God can within the limits of human freedom, which even God cannot escape.Gotta love that attitude--hey, take it easy on God; He's doing the best He can! Man's freedom is superior to God's sovereignty (never mind what the Bible says).
I don't hate God because, although I suppose God knows everything that can be known at any given point in time, I don't suppose God knows or controls everything that is going to happen.Classic open theism--God doesn't know what's going to happen in the future. He gets surprised, disappointed and frustrated just like us. How reassuring. At least we don't have to hate Him.
Some might say I would be wise to swallow my misgivings about such stuff, remain orthodox, and thereby secure my place with God in eternity. But that is precisely my point: If those things are true, then God might as well send me to Hell. For better or worse, I simply am not interested in any God but a completely good, entirely loving, and perfectly forgiving One who is powerful enough to utterly triumph over evil. Such a God may not exist, but I will die seeking such a God, and I will pledge my allegiance to no other possibility because, quite frankly, anything less is not worthy of my worship.Holiness and justice, anyone? To simplify, Campolo is saying that if universalism is not true, if Campolo's definition of goodness and love isn't correct, God can send him to hell. I wouldn't want to be giving an account for that some day. It's truly sad to see the direction the emerging "neo-evangelicals" are heading.
That is quite an interesting route to justifying sin.
"The heart is deceitful above all things. Who can know it?"
It's a great attempt at coming off as valiant and passionate; all the while justifying your unrepentance and refusal to submit to a Holy God.
Neil, I've always been bothered by that apparent duplicity I've seen in so many of the emerging types, trying to be cool while saying they are not cool, calling for understanding while slamming those who disagree, arrogantly demanding humility... It's not all of them, but many seem to fall prey to that sort of thing.
Just curious, do you see similar duplicity in some evangelicals?
Henry, I sure do. It's part of being fallen humanity. However, I don't see it to the same extent in leadership like John Piper, Louie Giglio, etc. They seem to live more consistently what they write and teach. McLaren is the worst at calling for tolerance for his views in the same chapters that he mocks conservatives.
Do you think the perception of duplicity might have something to do with how vigorously you dis/agree with what these people say, and how well you know them? It has always seemed to me that McLaren's admittedly pointed critiques are never intended to exclude himself. I guess I see myself as having traveled a road rather similar to what McLaren seems to have traveled, and I hear his critiques as self-directed personal testimony at least as much as directed towards others. I have been thrilled to read John say "In the beginning was Logos (Reason)," and I was incensed at those who suggested "story" could be a valid alternative reading. I first heard about the emerging church and McLaren 2 years ago, so I cannot call myself a disciple of that ilk. It was studies in scripture, theology, and philosophy (always in Calvinist institutions, I might add, though personally rooted in the Mennonite faith) that led me to where I am, and discovering a soul-mate of sorts in the emerging church and McLaren came after the fact. Reason is a valuable tool, far too often undervalued, but it is a human extrapolation from God's creation, and is not infallible, contrary to modern philosophy. If I seem defensive about McLaren it is because I resonate with much of what he says, and I hear it said in a spirit of genuine searching for truth, wherever the truth may lead.
Henry, personal biases always enter in, but McLaren certainly places himself above criticism in areas like his mocking slams on young-earth creationists, inerrantists, etc.
"In the beginning was Logos (Reason)
What? I've never heard that emphasis. Yes, "logos" can mean that, but conservatives generally focus on "word," not "reason," and that fits "story" just fine.
I hear it said in a spirit of genuine searching for truth, wherever the truth may lead.
That's where we differ. I see McLaren choosing his own path and ignoring evidence for truth in areas of which he disapproves. Nothing genuine about that search from what I can see after reading half a dozen of his books.
Thoughts from Christianity Today