Great Souls

In Lord Richard Attenborough's film, Gandhi, there is a remarkable scene that takes place toward the end of the Great Soul's days, as terrorists responsible for the violence in Calcutta and other regions of India come to him to lay down their weapons at his bed, determined not to continue their violent ways and so cause Gandhi to perish by fasting unto death. An angry Hindu man rushes to the bedside and shoves bread into the Mahatma's face, demanding he eat. The man refuses to have Gandhi's death on his conscience. He confesses he is damned and tells of recently killing a Muslim child. Still very weak from his fast, Gandhi says to the distraught man, "I know a way out of hell." He tells the man to go, find an orphaned Muslim child, and adopt him as his own son. "But," Gandhi tells the man, "you must be careful to raise him as a Muslim." The man is shocked - so would any of us be who translated this scene into our own lives. All my Western Christian brain could think at that moment was, "But the child would be Muslim. And the man is still Hindu. They're both going to hell."

Why do great souls like Gandhi, Buddha, and Rabbi Abraham Heschel go to hell, after all they have done to direct humanity away from selfishness and into the recognition of the transcendent, transforming love of God? The obvious answer - the answer I grew up with - is that this has nothing to do with what they did in life. What they did was highly commendable, but Ephesians 2:8-9 blares out the truth all the same, "For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God; not as a result of works, so that no one may boast." As Christians, especially as Protestants, we hold to this truth with an iron fist. We clarify it as meaning one thing: there is nothing we can do to earn salvation. However, what is remarkably absent from this true and wonderful statement is the "way" that we can find salvation. Christians today inject a doctrine after this verse, and it normally takes the form of praying for the forgiveness of all your sins and accepting Jesus' death on the cross as the atoning sacrifice that covers us from the consequence of sin, which is death. I am not denying this doctrine. I am questioning its placement and its form.

Ephesians 2:8-9 rejects the idea of earning salvation by living in such a way as to impress God. In reality, salvation comes only as a free gift, bestowed upon all whom he chooses to save, no strings attached, no prerequisites required. However, the Church has established a prerequisite of its own - the salvation prayer. Though the original form of this prayer was of complete supplication, complete rejection of all worth and merit, it has become a "work" of its own. If you don't "do" it, you don't get in to Heaven. It has become the initial hurdle to leap over as you "run the race" (1st Cor. 9:24).

What is the salvation prayer supposed to be? Is it only poignant words prayed that hold sway over your life throughout all your days? Or is it the expression of a change of heart that takes place allowing us to expel the things of this world in eager expectation of the things to come? Is it vainly seeking rescue from Hell (as it was with me at the fearful age of 8)? Or is it praying the theme of a life given over in humility to a great and gracious God?



I look at the life of Gandhi and Rabbi Heschel and other great figures whom we assume never "acquired the faith" and therefore shall spend eternity in torment. Maybe so. But if the way a life is lived is to be any proof of the desires of one's heart and the passion of one's soul, Gandhi is truly redeemed, whether he mumbled a sinner's prayer or not. And we ... we are damned. I worry about whether or not I will find a job in Houston once I graduate? Gandhi worried about the masses of Untouchable's littering the streets of the cities of India. Much of the quiet moments of thinking during my day is focused on my future with Leigh, where we might live, what the future holds for us. Gandhi's quiet moments were spent considering new ways to unite all the people of his country in love and mutual respect, across even violent religious lines. I sweat over how I might prove myself a talented writer and an innovative minister. Gandhi calmly spent his time praying and weaving his own clothes. I occasionally erupt into anger when I want to be recognized as right. Gandhi softly said, "An eye for an eye only ends up making the whole world blind."

Who is truly humbled before God? Who is truly saved?

Thank you, God, that there is never-ending grace. I cannot earn it, and nothing I offer can ever affect it, even the most soul-stirring of prayers.

Dry-Erase Board Salvation

When considering the questions I posed in my previous entry, a flood of poignant quotes have leapt to my mind, but none so timely as a short passage from Peter De Vries book, The Blood of the Lamb. I find myself not so much questioning the specifics of salvation as much as I am reacting against the presumption of who meets the criteria and who doesn't - that it is so black and white. In his novel, De Vries' main character, Don Wanderhope, wrestles with the ever-present question of theodicy (why does God allow evil/tragedy?). At one point, Don seeks the council of his doctor after the sudden death of a woman he loved dearly:

I set my brandy down and said: "Dr. Simpson, do you believe in God?"
He just perceptibly raised his eyes, as if in entreaty to Heaven to spare him at least this. It took me some years to attain his mood and understand my blunder. He resented such questions as people do who have thought a great deal about them. The superficial and the slipshod have ready answers, but those lookng this complex life straight in the eye acquire a wealth of perception so composed of delicately balanced contradictions that they dread, or resent, the call to couch any part of it in a bland generalization.

I think of this passage often now, while considering salvation.

It certainly seemed like an easy answer when I was young. My first encounter with the traditional, evangelical "plan" of salvation occurred midway through Vacation Bible School at the small Baptist church of my youth. In what became somewhat of a ritual to be revisited every year, the pastor would lug out an easel and a dry-erase board and with his four colored markers, he would crudely draw the earth suspended above a void of black with the word "HELL" written within in, and stretched above the planet would be written "HEAVEN," nestled in bubbly clouds. A stick figure would stand upon the earth, and the pastor would explain to the older VBS'ers (normally Kindergarten through sixth grade, those who were deemed able to comprehend this weighty concept) that there existed a separation between Heaven and those on earth. He would shade in this demilitarized zone of separation with the black marker and write "SIN" within it. He would then go on to explain how Jesus' death on the cross bridged this gap. Arrows shooting from the stick figure toward Hell were reversed, pointing to Heaven, and the black span of sin was pierced with a red cross stretched between earth and eternity.

Cut and dried; tried and true. The basic foundation of Christianity.

The one vaguery that I did not recognize at the time (and perhaps this was the blessing of having a child-like faith - I was not yet cursed to dwell within reason's cold realm) was the belief issue. What did it take to navigate through this black void of sin upon the blessing of the red cross? The answer: belief in Jesus, specifically illustrated in a personal prayer that he forgive me of my sins. Which sins? All of them? Was it belief that he could forgive me, or would forgive me? Was it more than belief regarding supplication to him, but belief in his life-changing power? And what did such a changed life look like?

The question I struggle with now is, what form does this prayer for forgiveness take in people's individual lives. Many believe it must be as black and white as it was presented me as a child, but these are often the same people who care nothing for discipleship - really learning to live like Jesus - and would rather check off as many names on their outreach lists as possible; if they've prayed the prayer, God has got to let them in. After all, through the grace of the cross, we have a deal ...

The second problem with viewing salvation as obtainable only by means of a prayer for forgiveness is that the actual concept to which Christ called us becomes an afterthought. The gospel accounts are replete with instances of Christ commanding his followers to do just that, follow him. And his description of what this actually looks like, use of hyperbole notwithstanding, rarely includes the saying of a prayer. Instead, it involves people feeding the hungry, giving to the poor, selling their possessions, forgetting their family for the sake of followship.

This is enough for now, but in a few days I will be returning to these two problems, especially in examining the lives of people most Christians today do not consider to be Christians, such as Gandhi and Rabbi Abraham Heschel. The question I will pose is: why are such people as them bound for HELL, and people like Pat Robertson, Jerry Falwell, and the despicable Vernon Bowen soaring to HEAVEN?

I Wonder as I Wander

Right now on channel 45 there is a portly, well-dressed preacher pacing behind an expensive glass podium in a church building that is more of a Ryman Auditorium than a sanctuary. Stretched behind him is a massive mural with vivid images and words under each: "marriage Covenant", "Salt Covenant", "Blood Covenant" and "Israel Covenant." He tells the congregation (or is it just an audience?) that these are the subjects of the sermons he will be preaching over the next few weeks. He wears a bright yellow tie with an elegantly matching handkerchief, and as he speaks he gestures forcefully with his arms. From what I've listened to before deciding I've heard enough, this preacher is proclaiming that America was also founded on a covenant, and he mentions the Mayflower and the founders of America who he no doubt believes were all "good Christian men." He tells his hearers that God has blessed America more than any nation in the world and, as the Bible reads, God promises to continue doing so if America abides within the laws of this covenant. Unfortunately, the preacher goes on to lament that America is rejecting this covenant. His first example is that America has thrown out the Ten Commandments from the schools. He describes the breakdown in families. He mentions climbing divorce rates and something about Britney Spears which I think is meant to be well-placed humorous jab in the sermon ...

He, and I'm sure many people in the pews before him, are so very, very sure they are Christians. They are certain that they are heavenbound.
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It is a wonder we are alive at all, let alone have a God who loves us no matter who we are, what we do, or what we say.

Over this next week, I am going to be writing reflectively about salvation. Specifically, I am going to be mulling over the question of just who is saved, and how exactly does one become saved. Is it by simply saying (or reading or repeating) a prayer? Is there another way besides praying? Do "works" really have nothing to do with it? Do only the Christians get in?

I've wrestled with whether or not this is a subject I want to introduce to my blog - I'd much rather dwell on the lighter side of life, and leave controversy on the sidelines. However, I remember that I started this blog as a personal exercise to reflect on the wonders of God and the joy of life. I wanted to have a place where I could offer my meager comments on this beautiful story of redemption we all exist in, whether we have realized it or not. And I cannot imagine anything more integral to this story than the very rhythm of salvation itself. If it is a grand redemption we are meant to find, how then do we find it, and what does one have to do, essentially, to experience it?

I hope you who read this blog - there cannot be many of you - will be merciful with my wanderings. I also hope you will offer as many comments as possible. I don't plan to stumble upon any clear-cut answers, but reading what others think is one way for us all to sharpen our eyes and strengthen our limbs for the journey.

So, what do you think is essential for a person to find salvation - for a person to go to heaven? Or what have you always learned regarding such a question? This will be the first thought on which I'll post in a few days ...