Conversations About Hell
an excerpt from the new book
The Last Word and The Word After That:
A Tale of Faith, Doubt, and a New Kind of Christianity
by Brian D. McLaren
INTRODUCTION
Brian McLaren is a leader in the emergent church movement.
He was interviewed by Larry King on February 1, 2005, after
Time Magazine named him one of the 25 most influential
evangelicals in America.
The Last Word is the third book in McLaren's
New Kind of Christian trilogy. It combines deceptively entertaining
narrative with Socratic style dialogue and sound theological insight.
"I am more interested in generating conversation
than argument," McLaren says in the introduction. The book
is presented as a series of conversations about hell.
According to one character in the book, "Millions of
people, young and old, have given up on Christianity
because our way of talking about hell sounds absolutely
wacky. 'God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your
life,' we say, 'and he'll fry your butt in hell forever
unless you do or believe the right thing'... No wonder
Christianity -- or that version of it -- is a dying
religion in so many places in the world."
More information about The Last Word and The Word After
That -- and author Brian McLaren -- follows the excerpt.
Conversations About Hell
by Brian D. McLaren
I believe that god is good. No thought I have ever had of
God is better than God actually is. True, my thoughts --
including my assumptions about what "good" means -- are
always more or less inaccurate, limited, and unworthy, but
still I am confident of this: I have never overestimated
how good God is because God's goodness overflows far beyond
the limits of human understanding. That conviction gave
birth to this book.
Now if you believe everything is pretty much fine in the
Christian church and its theology, if you believe that only
small cosmetic or methodological tweaks are needed in a
basically sound enterprise, then there's no need to read
this book. If, however, you believe that our common images
and understandings of God are generally too small and even
mean, then this book may help you -- and us.
On the surface, this book appears to be largely about hell.
But it isn't really. Those who read it and react to it as
such will have missed the point. True, the subject of hell
is worth talking about. In researching the evolution of the
conventional doctrine of hell for this book, I discovered
that the story is truly fascinating, putting its horror
aside for a moment. In Christian theology, hell (which a
character in this series calls the tail that first wagged
and then became the dog) is catalytic; too little attention
has been paid to the practical effects various formulations
of the doctrine of hell have had on Christian thought,
worship, behavior, and practice. But the subject has all
but disappeared, at least overtly, from most contemporary
preaching -- whether liberal or evangelical -- although
fundamentalist preaching is in many a place still quite
spicy with it. As Martin Marty quipped, "Hell has
disappeared and no one noticed." ( U.S. News and World
Report, January 31, 2000, p 44.) The widespread
suppression, cooling, civilizing, and now near-
disappearance of hell deserves some notice and reflection
from serious scholars and professional theologians. As a
mediocre pastor, former scholar, and amateur theologian, I
can't claim to be sufficient for that task. I can only
raise questions here that I feel need to be raised and hope
that better scholars and professional theologians will
provide better answers than I've been able to discover or
construct.
As I see it, more significant than any doctrine of hell
itself is the view of God to which one's doctrine of hell
contributes. William Temple once said that if your concept
of God is radically false, the more devoted you are, the
worse off you will be. So this book is in the end more
about our view of God than it is about our understandings
of hell. What kind of God do we believe exists? What kind
of life should we live in response? How does our view of
God affect the way we see and treat other people? And how
does the way we see and treat other people affect our view
of God?
When the brilliant and influential American theologian
Jonathan Edwards etched the image of an angry God upon our
minds in a famous sermon in the eighteenth century, was he
helping us or hurting us, telling the truth straight or
slanting it?
The God that holds you over the pit of hell, much as one
holds a spider or some loathsome insect over the fire,
abhors you and is dreadfully provoked: his wrath towards
you burns like fire; he looks upon you as worthy of nothing
else, but to be cast into the fire. (Jonathan Edwards,
Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God, 1741.)
Whatever you think of Edwards's sermon, the conventional
doctrine of hell has too often engendered a view of a deity
who suffers from borderline personality disorder or some
worse sociopathic diagnosis: "God loves you and has a
wonderful plan for your life, and if you don't love God
back and cooperate with God's plans in exactly the
prescribed way, God will torture you with unimaginable
abuse, forever" -- that sort of thing. Human parents who
"love" their children with these kinds of implied
ultimatums tend to produce the most dysfunctional families,
and perhaps the dysfunctions of the Christian religion can
be traced not to God as God really is but to views of God
that are not easy for people swallow while remaining sane
and functional.
With this situation in mind, it is no wonder that many
theologians and preachers like myself have downplayed or
entirely dropped the idea of hell in our writing and
preaching. Perhaps intuitively, we have known that
something is wrong and so we've backed off until we figure
out the problem -- or until some foolhardy person ventures
to do so for us.
Meanwhile, the popular reaction against the mean-spirited
God distortion often creates an equally distorted and
distorting view of God: the divine doting Auntie in Heaven,
full of sweetness and smiles, who sees war and corruption
and violence and racism and says, "Well, boys will be boys.
Would you care for another blessing, dearie?" Along with
our doting Auntie in Heaven, we have God the chum, God the
cheerleader, God the mascot (denominational or national),
God the genie, God the positive force, God the copilot, God
the romantic sweetheart, God the sugar daddy, God the rich
uncle, God the sentimental feeling, God the watchdog, God
the absentee landlord. All of these distortions probably,
in some way, flow from an understandable but unhealthful
overreaction against God the eternal torturer. Perhaps the
consequences of these distortions are not as serious as
those of the traditional approach; perhaps they're more
serious. But either way, they are scary for their own
reasons, as I hope the book will make clear. Is there a
better alternative to either of these polarities: a just
God without mercy for all or a merciful God without justice
for all? Could our views of hell (whichever extreme you
choose) be the symptoms of a deeper set of problems --
misunderstandings about what God's justice is,
misunderstandings about God's purpose in creating the
world, deep misunderstandings about what kind of person God
is? (I use this anthropomorphic language intentionally,
realizing that it could be misunderstood and hoping it
won't be.)
Those are the kind of questions I'm pursuing in this book.
No doubt, many readers will dislike the answers given by
various characters in this book; I hope they won't blame me
for raising the questions and playing out through these
characters conversations that many of us have silently in
our own minds or in tense whispers among trusted friends in
parking lots or dimly lit restaurant booths. Other people
will read this book and wonder, why the fuss? For them,
everything in this book will seem so patently obvious and
noncontroversial, they won't be able to imagine anyone
needing it, much less arguing against it. The whole subject
seems rather medieval to them. I hope they'll realize that
a great many people do, in fact, need this conversation --
very, very much.
Many conservative religious people I know complain about
"political correctness," which they associate with left-
wing restrictions on freedom of speech. I hope they will
not impose a conservative P.C. restriction on people who
want to bring these kinds of questions and conversations
out into the light. (Yesterday someone told me that the
pastor of a large church had banned his staff from reading
and discussing the first book of this trilogy, so freedom
of speech is on my mind today.)
At any rate, at heart this book is about the goodness of
God and life with God. This means it is about the gospel
and about justice and mercy and a new way of understanding
their relationship -- suggesting that God's justice is
always merciful and God's mercy is always just. This book
flows from the hunch that the heart disease afflicting the
Christian community is chronic and serious rather than
cosmetic: deep in our hearts, we don't fully love God
because we are not fully confident that God is fully good.
Of all my books so far, A New Kind of Christian has sold
most strongly, elicited the warmest response, and
engendered the most controversy. Meanwhile, I feel its
sequel, The Story We Find Ourselves In, is actually a
more radical book, although its more subtle tone disguises
that fact. This final volume, which rounds out the trilogy,
will probably be judged both radical and controversial. I
am not proud of this and actually wish it weren't so. I am
not a fan of controversy. As a pastor, "the unity of the
Spirit in the bond of peace" is a precious thing to me; no
one should disturb the peace unadvisedly or lightly. I
would much prefer that my books be banned than have them
cause destructive conflict in churches or trouble for
pastors, who face enough problems without needless
controversies being stirred. I would not go down this road
at all if I did not feel, deep in my soul, that the issues
raised here need to be raised for at least some people to
consider, for the good of individuals who seek God, for the
good of the church in all its forms, and for the good of
the world at large. It is my belief, hope, and prayer that
any short-term controversy will lead to long-term benefits
that are truly worthwhile.
I am tempted to beg for mercy in this introduction, knowing
that some conventional religious leaders take on an attack-
dog affect when conventional formulations -- of hell, God,
or justice and mercy -- are questioned. With that in mind,
the biblical character I identify with most these days is
Balaam's ass, whose story is recounted in Numbers 22 (well
worth reading before you continue). As a voice in the
ongoing conversation about God and the world, I am, like my
equine counterpart, both an unlikely candidate and a last
resort. And if I, like the donkey, seem to be veering
uncooperatively from the conventional path, it's because I
see something ahead that others might not see. Balaam's
poor beast was beaten three times, but eventually his
message was heard and Balaam stopped long enough to
reconsider and see what he needed to see. If I can have
similar results, any beatings I get will be well worth it.
I can imagine some impassioned critic of this book
concluding a review with a statement something like this:
"It's bad enough that McLaren has undermined conventional
understandings of hell, but in its place what has he
offered? No clear alternative. One cannot even tell for
sure, after a careful reading of this book, whether McLaren
is an inclusivist, conditionalist, or universalist. All one
can say is that he is clearly not an orthodox exclusivist."
In response, I might offer, as I have often suggested
elsewhere, that clarity is good, but sometimes intrigue may
be even more precious; clarity tends to put an end to
further thinking, whereas intrigue makes one think more
intensely, broadly, and deeply. Jesus' teaching on the
kingdom of God is a case in point; his parables don't score
too well on clarity, but they excel in intrigue.
Even more, I might add that like some politicians, we often
seek clarity at the expense of truth: we would rather have
something simple and clear than continue to search beyond
convention for a truth that won't resolve to a neat
formula, label, category, or pat answer. Or I might reply
that asking me -- as people often do -- whether I'm an
inclusivist or a universalist is like asking a vegetarian
whether she prefers steak, pork, or venison. The question
that yields these answers as options is a question I have
no taste for asking. My intentional avoidance of this
question does not spring from fear of saying what I really
believe; a fearful writer wouldn't even begin a book like
this. Rather, I am more interested in generating
conversation than argument, believing that conversations
have the potential to form us, inform us, and educate us
far more than arguments. So this book is presented as a
conversation, with multiple points of view, not as an
argument pushing only mine.
Three disclaimers need to be made in this regard. First,
this is not a "fair" book. It is not an attempt to give
equal time to all views. It intentionally underrepresents
the conventional view on the grounds that it is already
widely known and defended. Second, while it intends to
privilege new voices and minority reports as alternatives
to the conventional view, it doesn't even promote the best-
known alternatives but rather explores a less traveled
path. Finally, even this path is not very original,
depending heavily on seminal ideas presented by Bishop N.
T. Wright, Lesslie Newbigin, and others.
Rather than claiming the last word on hell, then, I
consider this sketch an accomplishment more suitable to my
modest talents: to make a largely secret, forbidden
conversation about hell more overt, public, and accessible.
That's not everything, but neither is it nothing. I look
forward with eagerness to see what creative Christian
leaders -- especially young ones, previously unheard ones,
and ones from the global South -- might do in taking the
ideas and questions raised in this book and working with
them further so that we all will see and celebrate the
ultimate goodness of God more clearly and so that we may
more joyfully and fully do justice, love kindness, and walk
humbly with God.
About the Author
Brian D. McLaren, born in 1956, graduated from University
of Maryland with a BA and MA in English. His academic
interests included Medieval drama, Romantic poets, modern
philosophical literature, and the novels of Dr. Walker
Percy.
After several years teaching and consulting in higher
education, he left academia in 1986 to become founding
pastor of Cedar Ridge Community Church, an innovative,
nondenominational church in the Baltimore-Washington
region. The church has grown to involve several hundred
people, many of whom were previously unchurched. In 2004,
he was awarded a Doctor of Divinity Degree (honoris causa)
from Carey Theological Seminary in Vancouver, BC, Canada.
Brian has been active in networking and mentoring church
planters and pastors since the mid 1980's, and has assisted
in the development of several new churches. He is a popular
speaker for campus groups and retreats and a frequent guest
lecturer at seminaries and conferences, nationally and
internationally. His public speaking covers a broad range
of topics including postmodernism, Biblical studies,
evangelism, apologetics, leadership, global mission, church
growth, church planting, art and music, pastoral survival
and burnout, inter-religious dialogue, ecology, and social
justice.
McLaren's is the author and co-author of numerous books,
including A New Kind of Christian -- which won
Christianity Today's "Award of Merit" -- and its sequel,
The Story We Find Ourselves In, both from Jossey-Bass.
Brian's 2004 release, A Generous Orthodoxy, is a personal
confession and has been called a "manifesto" of the
emerging church conversation. McLaren has written for or
contributed interviews to many periodicals, including
Leadership, Sojourners, Worship Leader, and
Conversations. Many of his articles are available at the
web site, http://www.anewkindofchristian.com. He is also a
musician and songwriter.
McLaren is on the international steering team and board of
directors for emergent, a growing generative friendship
among missional Christian leaders, and serves on the board
of Off the Map, an organization helping people cultivate a
practical spirituality. He formerly served as board chair
of International Teams, an innovative missions organization
based in Chicago, and has served on several other boards,
including Mars Hill Graduate School in Seattle, and
theooze.com in California. He has taught at several
seminaries, and is currently an adjunct faculty member at
Mars Hill Graduate School.
Brian is married to Grace, and they have four young adult
children. He has traveled extensively in Europe, Latin
America, and Africa, and his personal interests include
ecology, fishing, hiking, kayaking, camping, songwriting,
music, art, and literature.
About the Book
The Last Word and The Word After That:
A Tale of Faith, Doubt, and a New Kind of Christianity
by Brian D. McLaren
Published by Jossey-Bass, An Imprint of Wiley
ISBN: 0-7879-7592-3, 224 pages, hardcover, $21.95
Available through this site or directly from the publisher:
http://www.josseybass.com/
"If [the emerging church] movement can survive in the
politicized world of conservative Christianity, McLaren
could find a way for young Evangelicals and more liberal
Christians to march into the future together despite their
theological differences."
-- Time Magazine -- which named Brian McLaren as one of the
Top 25 Most Influential Evangelicals
"Brian McLaren has written a remarkable book on hell and
the grace of God. And it is one hell of a book! ...It
evidences yet again why McLaren is an emerging voice to be
taken seriously concerning new modes of church and new
practices of faith."
-- Walter Brueggemann, minister, United Church of Christ;
professor, Columbia Theological Seminary, Decatur, Georgia
"With the passion of a Reformation broadside, Brian
McLaren's The Last Word and The Word After That goes for
popular Christianity's theological jugular: hell and
damnation... In a time when some churches have been co-
opted by fundamentalist political-theologies, this
prophetic tale of a new kind of Christianity serves as a
much-needed challenge and corrective."
-- Diana Butler Bass, Author, Strength for the Journey
In this final installment of the trilogy that began with
his award-winning A New Kind of Christian, Brian D.
McLaren tells an intriguing fictional story that raises
urgent questions about the concept of hell and what it
means for the Christian view of God and God's relationship
with humanity.
Can a contemporary fictional tale weave together ancient
history, Biblical reflection, theology, spirituality, and
social justice? The Last Word and The Word After That
answers "yes."
As Pastor Dan Poole and his friends and family grapple with
their pressing questions about justice in this life and
beyond it, readers will find themselves seeing the
Christian message of hope and commitment in expanding and
transforming new ways. The book aims to inspire readers to
view God and neighbor in ways that are more truly biblical,
more faithful, more evocative, more healing, more global,
more just, and more robust.
Copyright �2005 by Brian D. McLaren. All Rights Reserved. Excerpted
from The Last Word and the Word After That (April 2005, $21.95,
Cloth) by Brian D. McLaren by permission of Jossey-Bass, a Wiley Imprint.
