Defeater Ethics: God's Judgement

How can a "good" God send people to hell?

Last week I introduced a new series arguing that ethical objections to the Christian faith, which I’m calling defeater ethics, have become as much, if not more, of a barrier to Christianity than intellectual defeater beliefs. I am suggesting that our culture is not wrestling with the title of Tim Keller’s best-selling apologetics book The Reason for God, as much as the goodness of God. We will see that most struggles with God’s goodness are actually struggles with goodness of God’s people, or a lack thereof, which are then projected upon God. But I do think there are ethical objections specific to God that bring into question the goodness of God.

The first is an extension of our last post wherein I explained that God does indeed have a moral law for humanity, which offends our modern sensibilities of autonomy and self-expression. But the greater controversy surrounding God’s goodness arises when we take that one step further. Not only does God who have an ethical law, God will hold us accountable to it. Meaning, God’s will for us is not merely a suggestion. It is demanded of us and one day we will give an account before God for our failure to meet those demands.

The notion of a judgment day was once assumed, and everyone intuitively felt the need to “get right with God.” This is no longer true. Either we reject it by assuming there is no God and ultimate judgment day, or we dismiss it by presuming that whatever deity awaits us in death is not judgmental in the least, and we will all just be in a “better place.” The historic creed of standing before the judgment of God who sentences us to an eternal destiny simply cannot be true, not necessarily on intellectual grounds but ethical grounds. How can a God who judges be good?

Allow me to begin my response the way I promised to begin each defeater ethic, with an apology. I am sorry that too often Christians have done one of two things with God’s judgment—scare you or fear you. On one extreme, we have weaponized God’s judgment to scare you into belief and submission. This is not the way of the Christian gospel. Christian conversion and subsequence obedience to Christ is born not out of fear but out of love for him who first loved us. On the other extreme, we have sanitized God’s judgment because we fear you. Judgment day is admittedly an unpleasant discussion, and out of fear of your disapproval and rejection, we have not been honest. The Christian who hides this part of Christianity is not loving but afraid. The question is whether we can deal with the judgment of God without weaponizing or sanitizing it. Let me do my best.

No one has a problem with judgment when they are the ones being wronged. If I am lied to, stolen from, betrayed, harmed—if anyone sins against me, I cannot suppress my instinctual demand for justice, and neither can you. But this presents a problem for us. The moment I judge others, I condemn myself. If I declare it wrong when someone harms me, then I must immediately ask, have I harmed others? We can’t have it both ways. We can’t demand right and wrong from others, while demanding exemption from those same rights and wrongs. As Paul says in Romans 2, “Therefore you have no excuse, O man, every one of you who judges. For in passing judgment on another you condemn yourself, because you, the judge, practice the very same things.”

Do you see the justice dilemma? Either justice is a thing or it’s not. If it’s not, then quit demanding it of the world. Quit getting angry when you are wronged, which, of course, is impossible to do. We know there are rights and wrongs, and we live like it every day, especially when we are the ones being wronged. But if so, then we must play be the same rules. The greater problem, however, is that on an ultimate level we will not be judged by the rules we have demanded of the world. As the saying goes, “Only God can judge me.” This is true. In the end, only God can judge. But God judges based upon his standard, not our own.

Again, Paul says, “Do you suppose—you who judge those who practice such things and yet do them yourself—that you will escape the judgment of God?” Notice he switches from our judgment of others to God’s judgment of us. His point is that we can’t judge the world and then tell God he can’t judge the world. Therefore, we find ourselves trapped by justice. We judge, and so does God. We cannot even meet our own standard, not to mention God’s perfect standard. 

But won’t God simply look past our many wrongs? After all, isn’t God loving? Yes. God is love. And it is precisely because God is love that God is righteously angry over wrongs. We must understand that indifference to injustice, which is essentially what we expect from God, is not loving in the least. In fact, indifference is the antithesis of love. Love gets righteously angry over what is wrong. If you do not get angry over the abuse of children, for example, then there is something exceedingly deficient with your love. In this way, righteous anger, not callous indifference, is the application of love. And the deeper the love the greater the anger. All abuse angers me, but were someone to abuse one of my children, I cannot imagine the level of anger it would invoke.

Therefore, in one sense, God’s love should cause us all to tremble. He loves creation, his image, and his glory with a pure unending love, which means the indifference we expect from God is not an option. God is too loving not to get righteously angry when we harm what He loves. And so, when we consider the justice of God and the love of God, together they form that dirty word that is no longer named: Hell.

Much of our conceptions of hell are framed by the Middle Ages, particularly Dante’s Inferno, which canonized the apocalyptic imagery used in the Bible to describe hell. But the purpose of apocalyptic language in Scripture is to give understanding to that which we cannot understand. This is true of heaven, as well. We cannot conceptualize heaven’s goodness so the Bible uses imagery like pearly gates and streets of gold to help us. The same is true of hell. The imagery of flames is not to be taken literally, but the idea behind it most certainly is. Hell is the final resting place of the condemnation of God’s judgment and righteous anger of God’s love. Whatever it is, it is not where any should want to be.

Perhaps you are tempted to say of the doctrine of hell, “It’s just too much.” You will grant that there should be some measure of judgment over wrongs committed, but hell is simply too extreme. Well, consider hell in light of the way we ourselves enact judgment. According to our justice system and even our personal lives, there are three determining factors to the severity of punishment.

First, we consider the severity of offense. Jaywalking is not treated the same as homicide for good reason. The problem, however, is that though the Bible recognizes certain transgressions are more heinous than others in their consequences, God, before whom every heart is exposed, considers not just our actions but the very intentions of our hearts. For example, Jesus views lust in our hearts as embryonic adultery. Less consequences, no doubt, but the same intention only not fully manifested. Therefore, when you evaluate the thoughts and intentions of my heart, the severity of my failures is as bad as it gets

Second, we consider the recurrence of the offense. There are stricter penalties for repeat offenders than for first time offenders in our justice system. Well again, from the perspective of God who sees the thoughts and intentions of our minds and hearts, what are we if not daily, hourly, repeatedly offenders of his justice.

Third, there is something that goes unnoticed but crucial to understanding the nature of God’s justice. We also recognize the value of the offended party. Meaning, there is no outrage for stepping on a cockroach, but there is outrage for mistreating a dog, and there is indignation for harming a person. This is because we recognize the value of the offended party when it comes to punishment. To even threaten the office of the President of the United States is a felony punishable up to five years in prison. Why? We have ascribed elevated value to the highest office.

This is why we always rationalize the mistreatment of others by devaluing them. When we were enslaving image bearers in this country, we justified it by reducing them to less than human. And once devalued, it is no longer wrong to enslave them. Conversely, both abolition and the civil rights movement were rooted in value. I think of the simple poignancy behind the Memphis sanitation strike. In all caps, they printed four words on billboards that said all that needed to be said, “I AM A MAN.” As if to say, I am a person, with dignity and value that cannot be denied. This matters when it comes to justice. Well, consider God who is the highest value and greatest glory, infinite in his supremacy. If you think “I am a man” bears holy weight, how about, “I AM WHO I AM”? God is the great I Am, and nothing is more worthy in all existence.

According to our own standards of justice and punishment, what does consistent repetition, of the most heinous offenses, against the highest value in all existence deserve? From a man-centered perspective, the doctrine of hell makes little sense. From a God-centered perspective, we begin to tremble at how much sense it makes. I’m not trying to scare you, but I’m also not trying to fear you. I’m trying to be honest with you. This is what lies across the path of us all. Or…Jesus could walk that path for you.

You want to talk about the goodness of God? How about a God who Himself chooses to accept the condemnation of his own judgment and endure the anger of his own love? Whatever hell is, Jesus took it all so that we don’t have to. And this is how love wins. Not by indifference to what is wrong, but by a Savior taking what is wrong upon Himself. This is the gift our just and loving God offers to us. The gift is himself, willing to receive the hell we deserve. For goodness’ sake, accept the good gift of our good God.

---

---