Recently we watched the movie Freedom Writers, which is about a high school teacher who works with inner city students. It’s a little hokey, but not a bad movie. At one point, the teacher brings the kids to a holocaust museum, and they meet with some camp survivors. A somewhat incongruous thought struck me at that moment: can my theology handle the Holocaust?
Of course, no theology, no reasonable system, can “handle” the Holocaust. That kind of evil by definition defies reason. What I mean is, does my theology provide a system of justice that can account for the victims of the Holocaust?
I’m starting to think of this disturbing question as the “Holocaust Test.” A theology that can’t pass the Holocaust Test seems too small. Human history is filled with holocausts. The Nazi Holocaust is unique in its focus on the Jewish people. Yet we can also speak of African slavery, of communist dictatorships and gulags, of the killing fields of Cambodia, of Rwanda and Uganda, and so on. What does our theology say about the innocent blood — the blood of men, women, and young children — that cries out from the ground of human violence?
I’m afraid the very conservative brand of Evangelical theology I’ve inherited fails the Holocaust Test. The individual eschatology in this system is simple: those who have heard and responded to the Gospel are in Heaven; those who have not are in Hell. Anne Frank, and the millions of other Jewish children who died in the Holocaust, simply are lost (assuming they passed the “age of accountability,” whatever that might be). All of the Jewish adults who died in the Nazi camps, simply are lost. We should state the logic of this theology in terms that are as unflinching as its teaching: the residents of Berkenau and Auschwitz went straight from the gas chambers to the flames of Hell.
Obviously, I’m not the first person, or the first Christian, to realize that this view of eschatology is grossly inadquate. There are many ways of thinking about Christian eschatology that avoid the simplistic poles of hyper-exclusivism and universalism. On the Roman Catholic side, after Vatican II, there has been much reflection on how the grace extended in Christ through the Church can spill over to non-Catholics and non-professing-Christians. On the Protestant side, there is Barth, who was a universalist of sorts, and more “evangelical” voices such as Billy Graham, John Stott, Dallas Willard, and others who are by no means universalists, but who strongly suggest that the mystery of God’s salvation cannot be circumscribed by what is visible to us in the human context.
The Holocaust Test forces us to tread in some difficult waters. I don’t think the Biblical witness, or the Tradition, or reason or experience, support true universalism. It seems abhorrent to me to suggest that Anne Frank and Hitler share precisely the same fate, whether in Hell or in Heaven. Freedom means that we have freedom to reject God, and many do reject God, which is the definition of being “lost,” now and in the eschaton. But, at the same time, the crabbed little “four spiritual laws” view of individual eschatology can’t possibly be the whole story if there is such a thing as divine universal Justice.
What do you think?
20 replies on “Eschatology: The Holocaust Test”
I think you’re right – that each of our eschatologies seems too ‘small’. Perhaps the same goes for all our other systematic theology headings, though.
Unfortunately, the way my thinking is goind really doesn’t suit my analytical brain! Let alone the thoughts of my teachers at church.
Lots of thoughts, so I can’t possibly do justice to this post. Here are a few:
It seems here you’re suggesting a form of “Salvation by Hitler,” meaning that being one of Hitler’s victims (or a victim of another horror) is a way of death leading to resurrection? Put another way, is being the victim of a horrible and cruel death a form of absolution, purgation, atonement, etc.? Does the awful suffering (at Hitler’s hands or otherwise) “justify” its victims? Or is it Hitler’s (or someone else’s) cruelty that absolves?
Does being a victim bring people to God? What of those of us who have also been victimizers? Does this apply only to those who have suffered at other hands more than have brought suffering? In the end, our rescue and renewal comes at the victimization of another, who identifies with us both as victims and victimizers – “he was numbered with the transgressors.”
Interestingly, Jesus was asked a question about suffering victims, but with the assumption from the opposite end of the spectrum – that they were more culpable.
“Now there some present at that time who told Jesus about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mixed with their sacrifices. Jesus answered, “Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans because they suffered this way? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish. Or those eightenn wo died when the tower in Siloam fell on them – do you think they were more guilty than all the others living in Jerusalem? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish.” Luke 13:1-5
We are not fit to judge – negatively or positively. It is God, who has made himself known in Jesus, who does judge. And that’s a good thing.
Good questions John, but you’re using them to dodge the issue.
No, the status of being a victim does not earn salvation. But it does require justice. The victim must be vindicated. I think scripture and reason are clear on this. So what justice is there if the victim and the victimizer suffer exactly the same fate?
And we are “fit to judge” in the sense that God has endowed us with His image and delegated to us tasks of spiritual and moral discernment, and, apparently, some sort of eschatological role in judgment (1 Cor. 6:3: “Do you not know that you will judge angels? How much more the things of this life!”). True, only God is the final and perfectly just judge. But again, IMHO this is a dodge of the immediate question.
Are the Jewish children who died in the Holocaust and who never professed faith in Christ in Hell, or not? If your answer is anything other than an unqualified yes, what theological framework allows you that wiggle room?
I don’t think there’s anything to suggest that a victimizer is not accountable for his actions. So in that sense the blood that cries out for justice is heard. Also, as I know you recognize, the cross is a place where there is an inbreaking of eschatological judgment.
The way of suffering, injustice and death is the way of this world. The horrors of history only bring to our attention what is happening all around us, even as we speak.
You ask, “so what justice is there if the victim and the victimizer suffer the exact same fate?” I think that this again raises the issue that being a victim doesn’t change the fact that a person is accountable before God. I say this while keeping in mind that the Scriptures indicate different levels of consequence based on culpability. Furthermore, I think this objection brings into view the issue of God’s mercy to sinners. Are there those whose cruelty places them beyond mercy?
Your confining your question to Jewish children in particular is not separate from the question of children in general, which is a perennially difficult one. Christ is the way of concrete and living hope in the face of suffering and injustice. I don’t see one otherwise. It’s possible that you’re right – that at this point my answer is a dodge – an unwillingness to say and to follow through on what the Scriptures declare. While it’s possible I lack conviction, I do think my unwillingness to pronounce certain people in hell is defensible.
First, there is the issue of wisdom concerning the question, the questioner, motivation, etc. Secondly, there is genuine uncertainty on my part as to whom God will apply his salvation in completion of Christ’s mission and in conformity with his character. Thirdly, I think that, for example, the parable of the vineyard workers (Matt 20:1-16) discourages curiosity concerning the fate of others, as does the Luke 13 passage I quoted and to some extent the exchange between Peter and Jesus concerning John’s fate at the end of John’s gospel (ch 21). Finally, on these difficult questions I want to point myself and others to Christ and say with confidence that this God of the cross, who suffers and takes on injustice, is the one who judges. If we demand an answer that satisfies us to determine if he is acceptable to us, then we have made ourselves judges of both him and others.
Interestingly, this approach was effective recently in a discussion I had with an agnostic who was interested in Christianity.
Hmmm… well…. so what you’re saying is, “I don’t know — it’s possible God chooses to save some or all of the Holocaust victims, or not — that ultimate question is beyond my knowledge”? If so, I think that is helpful, and it’s very different than conservative evangelical soteriology, which is pretty insistent that we can be relatively certain of a person’s fate based on whether there has been an explicit presentation of the gospel and a conscious moment of decision in response.
But I would go even further and say that we have very good reasons for hoping that God does save — redeem — many of these victims — even good scriptural reasons. No, their suffering does not forensically justify them, but it does, it must, change the calculus of what we hope / expect God is doing / will do. Otherwise, our sense of what God’s justice means is sterile and vacuous.
I don’t agree at all that any of this places the questioner in the position of judging God or others. It’s an effort to use scripture, reason, tradition and experience to work through a troubling question with a theology that seems consistent with who God declares Himself and shows Himself in Christ to be. If anything, the extreme Calvinist / exclusivist position seems to me more of an exercise of judging and limiting God.
John (and others): Westminster Confession 10.3 deals with elect infants and “all other elect persons, who are incapable of being outwardly called to the ministry of the Word.”
Church of Scotland Declaratory Act of 1879 sec. 4: “while none are saved except through the mediation of Christ … it is not required to be held that … God may not extend his grace to any who are without the pale of ordinary means, as it may seem good in his sight.”
John Stott: “I have never been able to conjure up (as some great evangelical missionaries have) the appalling vision of hte millions who are not only perishing but will inevitably perish. On the other hand … I am not an cannot be a universalist. Between these extremes I cherish the hope that the majority of the human race will be saved. And I have a solid Biblical basis for this belief.”
Donald Lake (“middle knowledge” advocate): “God knows who would, under ideal circumstances, believe the gospel, and on the basis of his foreknowledge, applies that gospel evien if the person never hears the gospel during his lifetime.”
Gabriel Fackre (post-mortem evangelism advocate): “Because Christ really is Life, death has no hold on him. His ministry cannot be constrained by our ‘no trespassing sings. . . .’ The God whose ‘will it is that all men should find salvation and come to know the truth’ (1 Tim. 2:4) has the power of the Holy Spirit to keep that promise and accomplish that Dream.”
Agree with any / all? Disagree? Why?
What do I think?
I think you’re indulging in wishful thinking and mischaracterization. In terms of wishful thinking: the fact that you don’t like the conclusion doesn’t invalidate the reasoning behind it, and you don’t address that at all. In terms of mischaracterization, you act as though nobody had ever dealt with what you’re bringing up. In fact, of course, that specific example is very commonly raised and answered — so it would make sense for you to interact with those answers rather than simply pretending that you’ve found a defeater.
Ooops, almost missed one. There’s a small mischaracterization when you say that unbelieving Jews who died at the death camps and Hitler all received the same punishment. That’s just not a description of any theology of hell… They _all_ describe various punishments appropriate to the person’s behavior. Same “place”, different punishments. (I don’t think that’s a big deal; it’s a small objection, unless I misread you.)
I’m not going to take the effort to follow these comments, sorry. There’s a lot of interesting possibilities, but the post with which you started this one is just too empty to justify that kind of effort.
Wm — this is a lame comment. I think I said pretty clearly that there are numerous ways in which Christians have addressed the question. I also don’t think you’re correct about theologies of Hell — some involve degrees of punishment, some don’t. Those I was raised with don’t.
Anyway, if you have a view, I’m interested to hear it. The glib suggestion that this is “commonly raised and answered” doesn’t cut it — that’s a cop-out. It assumes there is only one “answer” from Christian theology (there isn’t) and it assumes there is one “answer” that is clearly right (so far as I can tell, there isn’t).
BTW, perhaps you’re misreading me, but I’m not a universalist, and I think final judgment (Hell) is a clear teaching of scripture. Yet I think many of the popular “answers” or non-answers people provide to this sort of honest question are lame.
I don’t think that pondering these questions puts one in the place of God. Dealing with difficult questions is something the Church has done throughout its history and rightfully so. But I thank they can be asked in that way, when a person demands an answer that meets with his expectations, otherwise he “can’t believe in such a God.” It can be that the person is not necessarily aware he’s doing this, but effectively he is. The issue is not the question but the person’s mindset in asking.
Hope is a conviction rooted in Christ brought to bear by the Spirit. My hope concerning holocaust victims or people I know and care about – living and dead – is not rooted in particular outcomes, for which I don’t have the kind of hope described, but in my trust in God. It’s not that I don’t desire they be saved, I do. At the same time, it would be presumptuous for me to think my compassion is remotely comparable to that of Jesus, who wept over Jerusalem and gave his life for her.
Sigh… I feel like I’m taking a deposition of a reluctant witness. Bob and weave, change the question… Nothing frustrates me more than this kind of conversation.
Yes, there can be that “I couldn’t believe in such a God,” which often means “I’ve already made up my mind and won’t believe no matter what you say.” BUT — there is a legitimate way in which someone could say “I couldn’t believe in such a God.” Take the Caananite gods for example. Could you believe (trust) in a god who demands child sacrifice? I couldn’t. Perhaps I could fear such a god, but I couldn’t believe in it.
We could ask similar, though maybe less extreme, questions about all the major world religions. Why do we believe in the Triune God revealed in Christ rather than the Hindu gods or the God of Islam (on a human level — setting aside for the moment the effectual calling of the Spirit)? One big reason, for me at least, is the revealed character of the Triune God as demonstrated on the cross.
Similarly, I think it’s entirely fair for a questioner to suggest he/she would have trouble believing in God if we can’t offer some ways of reconciling things that seem so deeply contrary to the revealed character of the Triune God as expressed on the cross (and in scripture, not the least in 1 Tim. 2:4). In fact, it seems to me your unwillingness to comment on the Holocaust question — except through these oblique references to your apparent belief that all the Holocaust victims almost certainly are in Hell — denigrates the revealed character of God. And it’s reasonable for a questioner to wonder whether he/she could believe in a god whose described character seems at best darkly opaque and at worst radically unsteady.
But — I’m not entirely sure that the question is one over belief in God. The thing we’re dancing around really is about belief in a theological system, isn’t it? What you’re struggling not to have to justify is limited atonement and double predestination, isn’t it? How close can the discussion come to equating acceptance of a theological system with trust in God?
Where do I say that Holocaust victims are “most certainly” in hell? There were six million victims of this horror and I am unwilling to pronounce judgment on them either way, either corporately or individually. They are in the hands of their Creator, who loves them and knows them and made them in his image. As those also made in his image, you and I are drawn to the victims, seeing that this situation cries out for justice and recompense. I get that and feel it strongly. And certainly, we can pray, as Abraham did, “shall not the judge of all the earth do right?” By confining the discussion to children at one point, you acknowledge the complexity of the matter. In the end, God will be seen to more true, just, merciful and loving than we can ask or imagine. This is not of course at expense of human flourishing and well being, for he has connected his glory to our good and the reconciliation of all things. It will be more than we can ask or imagine. As the statements you quote above indicate, this leaves a lot of room for God to work. In all these respects, I have great hope.
Does this take away difficult issues of family members, friends and ordinary people? No. At the same time, I know my own sin and my desperate need for mercy. Thus, I will point others to Christ and their need to trust in him and will pray for them in this respect. This is all you and I can do. And yes, Scripture, tradition, reason and experience provide warrant for being deeply concerned about those who do not come to grips with their own condition and spurn what God freely offers. That is not however, an oblique reference to everyone going to hell. For at the same time, Scripture, tradition, reason and experience do not permit me to pronounce final judgment and explicitly tell us that there were will be a countless host form every tongue, tribe, people and nation rejoicing in the new heavens and new earth. There are tensions and gaps and quandries here, which I cannot and do not intend to resolve.
The terms limited atonement and double predestination (one which I have never applied to myself) come with much baggage, implying for most an arbitrary, capricious God, who relishes in making people suffer and sending them to hell. The fact is election does not in and of itself in any way limit the the number of those who are saved. God is the Savior from begining to end, the one who raises the dead and keeps them from falling. We are dependent on the work of his Spirit. At the same time, human beings are responsible – active and not passive. I think WCF 3.1 states it well in saying that God’s sovereignty does not violate our wills, nor by it “is the liberty or contingency of second causes taken away, but rather established.”
To the extent I have a commitment to a doctrine such as “limited atonement” (not my phrasing), I see it through the lens of Christ and the gospel as the picture of a God who actively and persistently pursues us, even to the depths of death and hell, and does not stop until he finds and takes hold of us. It is invariably offered to us as a report of good news. I think the difficulty for some self-identified reformed is their understanding and conveying a raw sovereignty that is a doctrine to be affirmed apart from the gospel.
I honestly don’t think of myself as defending any particular system here. I really don’t (and haven’t for a while, even before Seminary) have an interest in wearing the label 5-point Calvinist, especially as articulated in TULIP. However, as someone who respects and stands in the historic orthodox tradition, I really don’t think that’s the issue here anyway. What we’re discussing here is more broadly the necessity of people turning to Jesus, while wrestling with the ways the salvation and judgment he brings work their way out in the world and in history.
We’re all systematicians to some extent, whose minds organize and attempt to bring coherence and rational order to our thoughts. So, I’m not terribly fond of dividing the world into mean, narrow systematicians and nice, loving missional folk.
Ah — now I think we’re in substantial agreement.
Good. I’m glad you see things my way. 🙂 As usual in our discussions, there’s some gaps in the midst of substantial agreement.
I guess I can’t resist one more comment. Maybe I’m repeating myself or maybe this’ll widen the gap again.
I don’t want anything I’ve said to detract from the necessity of conversion to Christ and the priority of evangelism. The distinctive we offer to the world and the reason for our existence is Christ. For anyone concerned about suffering and injustice, he is the one who enters into and deals with them.
Well, as seems often to be the case, you’ve packed a bunch of things in here, some good and some maybe not so good, IMHO.
1– yes of course, evangelism is a priority, and never would I suggest that anyone who rejects the gospel should expect redemption. As I’ve said repeatedly and clearly, God’s judgment is a reality, and He allows us to choose death over the life He offers in Christ. Moreover, scripture clearly instructs that evangelism is a priority and that the Church is God’s primary vehicle for proclaiming the good news of the gospel. And yes, the Mission of God accomplished in Christ is the “answer” to suffering and injustice!
Yet, when you say “the necessity of conversion to Christ,” you’re re-introducing the ambiguities we’ve been discussing concerning people who might not have made a conscious profession of faith in this life.
You agree, I think that at least infants, or at least some infants can be saved without being “converted” — true?
The question is whether God can, and probably or hopefully does, extend salvation in Christ to at least some, if not many, non-infants who also are not “able” to convert because they have not heard the gospel, because they have serious physical or mental impairments, because they are subject to severe social circumstances, and so on.
Here, I’m pretty sure you’d agree that at least people with severe mental handicaps, or at least some such people, can be saved without being “converted” — true?
I believe it’s possible that the same reasoning can be applied, at least as a possibility, if not as a firm hope based in God’s grace and revealed will, to people in the other categories I’ve mentioned. I think there are grounds for this in scripture, reason and the tradition. Moreover, I think a theology that can’t get to this point is defective. This is what I mean to get at with my somewhat glib “Holocaust Test.” If the answer is, well, none of those people ever converted to Christianity, then they went to the gas chambers, and that’s that … I think that is bad theology and worse apologetics. I thought we had common ground in allowing that only God saves and only God knows who is finally saved in Christ — but now I’m not so sure?
2 — “the distinctive we offer to the world?” That’s an overstatement, or maybe an understatement, or something. I think what we, the Church, those who identify and seek to follow Christ, do in the world is enter into the redemptive mission God is already accomplishing. We don’t offer a “distinctive” in the sense that there is a menu of “worldviews” and our “worldview” is one of the possible courses on the menu. God is at work. Our amazing privilege is to participate. In a sense, to borrow the title of a silly song, “We (the Church) are the world” — the eschatological world God is creating that overcomes the present world. I buy deeply into “missional” theology at this point.
3 — “the reason for our existence is Christ.” Yes and no. To use the language of the WCF, the reason for our existence is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever. We now begin to experience that as we participate in the eschatological Kingdom God is building. I’m nervous about pious-sounding language that in fact denigrates the “humanism” appropriate to a Christian view of human dignity. So yes, in Christ we are freed from sin and death, in him we have our being, by him all things came into existence and are held together, through him creation is being redeemed. Christ is the still point of creation, in T.S. Eliot’s phrase. But the “reason for our existence” as human beings is to enjoy fellowship with God as He extends the joy of His own perichoretic fellowship to us. I think we should be careful about reducing that glorious purpose.
4 — All that said — why do you feel compelled to include this addendum? I think this bothers me more than anything. Are we so theologically and socially constipated that we have to have this compulsion to tack on little quasi-evangelistic flags to everything we say and do? Is our perception of God’s mission and His ability to carry it out so constricted that we have to fear that “outsiders” will misunderstand when we discuss questions like this one with openness to the idea that God might be bigger than our system? Sorry I’m ragging on ya John, but I’ve spent too many years in suffocating church settings where everything you say and do has to be justified in instrumentalist terms (not my present church BTW) and have seen the carnage they leave behind.
I’ve looked up “theological constipation” in several medical dictionaries to see if I have its symptoms. I’ll probably need to keep looking in more up to date editions.
Be back later.
I doubt you need theological roughage! On all of the things we’re discussing here: where I’m coming from is substantially similar to Leslie Newbigin’s “The Gospel in a Pluralist Society,” in his understanding of epistemology, election, particularism, and mission. A couple of relevant quotes from Newbigin:
I think Newbigin is right and that his arguments are well-founded scripturally and in reason and tradition, and I would say that the position he describes is what I think is as close to true as we can get.
Don’t you go out Newbigining me. I’ve read “Open Secret” and “Foolishness to the Greeks,” both of which are excellent. As I write, I’m looking at “Pluralist Society” on my bookshelf, but I still haven’t gotten to it.
I don’t retract what I wrote above. So to the extent you thought we had substantial agreement, we still do.
I do however remain unclear on what you mean by “Holocaust test,” which is the impetus for this post and discussion. Leaving aside the matter of children, in the Scriptures, it is the righteous sufferer – Job and ultimately Jesus – who is vindicated. We know that in the midst of the horror of the camps, God was present and active in and among certain people, for they have told us. I am also sure that he was present and active in ways we don’t know. With respect to ultimate outcomes for individuals, I remain agnostic. On a macro scale however, which of course includes individuals, I am hopeful and trusting.
Given the magnitude and depths of the evil, you are right to point to the Holocaust (and other atrocities), but our thinking about them can’t be disconnected from the matter of evil and injustice overall. One of the reasons I say this is because “I can’t believe in a God who would…” is one that often comes up in that light.
With respect to “reason for our existence,” I was referring to the Church. Our unity in Christ is what creates and binds us. It is our calling and privilege to speak, represent and embody the exclusive nature of his identity and mission to the world. In that sense, it is why we – the Church – exist.
It is at this point that I must push back. In your writing, I detect a bit of a reactionary quality in your interaction with your past. In that respect, your past still defines you, albeit negatively – “I’m not that.” Furthermore, if you detect verbiage somehow associated with your past, you contrast it with what you presently affirm, so that Christ being “the distinctive we offer the world” is somehow at odds with being “missional.”
You know that no matter how we parse it, we’re all tied to a “narrow system.”
Now, why did I include my little addendum?
1. The only people ever involved in discussions about those long dead, who’ve never heard, etc. are those who have heard the gospel. To them and all of us I say entrust yourself to Jesus and receive the life he offers. And yes, let the God whose character, mercy and love we know in Christ be the judge. Part of trusting him is entrusting to him this world he made and loves to death. Again, this is cause for hope. I think the temptation and attraction of embracing the pluralism Newbigin rejects is immense.
2. Maybe it was a bit defensive. I’m approaching ordination exams and people have google…Please don’t now conjure up the image of an evil tribunal of misanthropes. I expect no such thing. This is probably not a very good reason and is I guess a possible downside of being a “pro.”
3. While you may think of my comment as constricting flag-waving, I think of it as maximally hopeful. All the things people are interested in – justice, healing, peace, freedom, joy – are found in Christ. The activity of God in this world, including that of the Father and the Spirit, is centered on Christ. If I may comment on your Bono video from a couple of posts down: what he said was good and I agree. Caring for the poor is something we can all agree on across the human spectrum, for it is consistent with our being image bearers and is also consistent with the positive pluralism Newbigin refers to. At the same time, the good news for the poor is in the coming of the King, who identifies with them and overturns the world’s systems and establishes a new order in which the poor, the rejected, the despised are royalty seated in heavenly realms in Christ. It is in that light that we go to the poor and are happy to join with others in serving and learning from them.
ME REACTIONARY??? I’M NOT REACTIONARY!!! 🙂
Yeah — I admit that, I’m working on it, I’m not there yet.
Read The Gospel in a Pluralist Society when you have a chance and maybe we can interact with it together.
Re: ordination exams — aren’t you in a PCUSA church? I thought all you had to do was spell your name right to get ordained there. 🙂
Ok — the “Holocaust Test” — yes I can see how this can be misunderstood — as though the suffering of the victim itself, rather than the atoning blood of Christ, is redemptive, which is not what I mean. Still, I think this kind of example can jar some people to think more carefully and holistically about Salvation and Justice. Here, yes, I can be reactionary to my hyper-dispensationalist background, but I also really think God gave me that background in part to spur me to think and speak more holistically about these things. Here I am, a law professor, supposedly paid to think deep thoughts about justice, at a time when many people with backgrounds also like mine are rethinking what it means to be God’s missional people.
I really do think that the many Biblical references to God vindicating and redeeming the oppressed have an eschatological dimension that can offer great hope that victims of such holocausts are particularly dear to God, and therefore are among the elect in Christ. We agree, only God knows with certainty the number of the elect, and salvation comes only through Christ. I can’t tell a skeptic, or my doubting self, that God’s judgment over and redemption of what happened to Anne Frank necessarily means that God will exalt her over her oppressors in the New Heavens and New Earth by declaring her elect in Christ (ok, I know I’m messing up something about the timing of God’s decrees here, but you know what I mean). But — I feel confident in saying that this is just the kind of thing the God who revealed Himself in Christ seems so often to do. This gives me (and I’m guessing others who might wrestle with this sort of question) great comfort, and helps me realize that whatever God does, however God’s election works out, will be absolutely just and right.
While tidying up my office today, I came across this quote from Neuhaus, which I think offers a fitting conclusion to our discussion:
“The entirety of our prayer is ‘Your will be done’ – not as a note of resignation but of desire beyond expression.”