We’re talking about hell! Tis the season.)īut one part of my Christianity that feels like a solid place for me to stand is in the knowledge that there is, in fact, a hell. I can find moments of beauty and delight and joy and hold them as a sacred resistance, powering me through a world that’s just, no pun intended, broken as hell. I can know God is there even when my very soul feels empty as a tomb. But with prayer, wise counsel, the sacraments, and the grace of God himself, I’m at peace with that lack of understanding. I will not understand mental illness or addiction I will not understand death, even. Mike clips will ever bring me to a full understanding of why, why, why Ukranian children are being killed and women are being raped and mothers are being evicted. The foggy mystery of suffering in a Christian world is one that may haunt me the rest of my life. Nothing happened except a minor miracle in and of itself: I got out of the car, went inside, and made lunch. No burning bushes occurred no white doves suddenly flew down as A Sign that reminded me of God’s goodness. Believe you me: I’ve been the person sobbing in that car, yelling at a God who promised he would never abandon me, asking him where he was. I have walked through moments I’ve shared publicly and moments the internet doesn’t need to know about. And friends, I have known deep suffering.
The harder moments for me are to remember that God is there, when I am suffering.
A God who will remember our wickedness no more? A God who will part seas and lead us to liberation? A God who will just, like, raise people from the dead?Īnd those are actually the easier things for me to swallow. There is so little about the Christian faith that makes any sense in my rational mind. So instead, I thought I’d talk about something nice and easy: hell. It requires a bit more research and caffeine and prayer. I was going to write a different newsletter this morning, but as I sat down and tried to write it, the words felt clunky and the argument felt discombobulated.
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