PROPER 16, YEAR C

Sunday, August 22, 2004

Christ Church, Woodbury, N.J.

 

Luke 13:22-30

 

One of the worst things that can be said about any church, parish, or congregation today is, “They preach hellfire and damnation.” Many people give that as the reason why they left a particular church. As one old gentleman used to say in the church I attended in London: I don’t want the fear of God but the love of God. No clergy person I’ve ever met wants the reputation of being a fire and brimstone preacher. Nor do I, let me hasten to add.

 

The problem is that large sections of the Bible do talk about hellfire and damnation. Much of what our Lord himself says in the Gospels could be described as fire and brimstone preaching. So, to be true to scripture, we can’t afford to ignore the parts like the Gospel reading we’ve just heard. But what are we to make of such descriptions of people weeping and gnashing their teeth as they’re shut out of the kingdom of God?

 

Before we look further at this reading, it might be helpful to take note of our options when it comes to beliefs about heaven and hell. What happens to us after we die?

 

A very popular position today is universalism, the belief that everyone’s going to heaven, no matter what. Salvation is universal. God loves us too much to give up on us—either in this life or in the next. God created us with the intention that we should live with him forever, and God’s will always prevails in the end.

 

Universalism is enormously attractive, until we notice some of its problems. For one thing, it denies us our freedom to say “no” to God. And when we don’t have the freedom to say “no,” then saying “yes” doesn’t mean very much either. If universalism is true, then nothing we do in this life matters very much, because we’re all going to the same place anyway. It doesn’t really matter whether you’re Hitler or Mother Theresa. Our decisions and actions here and now have no real consequences for what happens to us hereafter. And, to me, that position cheapens the value and dignity of this precious earthly life that’s been entrusted to us.

 

At the opposite end of the spectrum, there’s atheism, which denies the existence either of God or of any afterlife. When we die, our life, our selfhood, our consciousness, is simply extinguished, and there’s nothing more. For many people today, that seems the most plausible way of thinking. As Christians, of course, we reject it. But notice that atheism and universalism have one thing in common. Both imply that our decisions in this life have no consequences beyond this life. We all end up in the same place, regardless. And again, to me, that suggestion trivializes the dignity of human freedom and makes this life little more than an inconsequential game.

 

Between these two extremes, Catholic Christianity teaches that our decisions, beliefs, and actions in this life do have eternal consequences. Such is our God-given dignity as persons created in his image. Contrary to atheism, God does exist, he’s created us to live with him forever, and in Christ he offers us eternal life. But, contrary to universalism, God gives us the freedom to decide whether to accept his invitation. He won’t force us into his Kingdom if we don’t want to enter. And all our values, beliefs, decisions, and actions in this life add up to a basic choice – what theologians call our “fundamental option” – for or against God and the life he offers us.

 

Now, with those options in mind, let’s look again at today’s Gospel. As Jesus is journeying towards Jerusalem, someone asks him, “Lord, will those who are saved be few?” A bit of background will help us understand the significance of this question. At that time there was a popular saying: “all Israelites have a share in the world to come.” And another saying: “God has made this world for the many, but the world to come for the few.” In other words, this world belongs to the Gentiles, but the world to come belongs to Israel. So, the question, “Lord will those who are saved be few?” really means, “Lord, isn’t salvation just for us Jews?”

 

Our Lord’s answer takes three parts. First: “Strive to enter by the narrow door.” In other words, don’t take your own salvation for granted just because you belong to the Chosen People. Before you worry about the Gentiles, be concerned for yourselves. And this teaching applies equally to us today. Quite a few Christians seem to spend a lot of time worrying about whether others are going to heaven, when the souls they really need to be concerned about most are their own. So, we need to beware of the attitude summed up in Brendan Behan’s wonderful line, “The bells of hell go ting-a-ling-a-ling for you but not for me!”

 

Second, there does come a point when the door is shut and those who then decide that they want to get in can’t. That’s a hard teaching. But life is like that, full of cutoff points. If you don’t meet the application deadline, you don’t get into college. If you don’t make your reservation in time, you don’t get a seat on the plane. God is incredibly merciful and patient. Throughout our lives, he gives us opportunity after opportunity, second chance after second chance. But sooner or later there comes a point when we’ve used up all those opportunities and second chances. When we die, the narrow door is shut, and we find ourselves either inside or outside.

 

But third, to the question, “Will those who are saved be few?” our Lord effectively answers: No, they’ll be many. They’ll come from east and west, and north and south, and sit at table in the kingdom of God: Jews and Gentiles together. But those who are so presumptuous as to think that they have exclusive entry rights will be the ones who find themselves shut out, while those whom they expected to see shut out will be the ones who get in. The first will be last and the last will be first. If our Lord teaches us anything in the Gospels, it’s that when we get to heaven—if we get to heaven—many of those we see there will be the very last people we expected to see there, while many of those whom we expected to see there will be oddly absent. 

 

So, there’s a sense in which universalism is true. The good news is that God offers his salvation to us all universally, without distinction. All nations, races, classes, tribes, and tongues will be represented the heavenly banquet. Everyone’s invited, without exception. The only question that need concern us is whether we’ll be there too. We shall all spend the rest of our lives answering that question, one way or the other. All we need to do is to accept God’s offer of salvation – and then live as though our lives depended on it.