Junkyard Wisdom

My daughter Rachel was about 2-years old when she asked me the funniest question. D’Aun and I had just boarded a plane for a flight home. It had already been a long day of travel. Rachel sat between us and out of the corner of my eye I could see her staring intently at me. After a minute she finally asked, “Daddy, why does your face have splinters?”

I smiled and said, “Those aren’t splinters, honey. They’re whiskers. I haven’t shaved in a day or so.”

She said “okay” and was satisfied with the answer. D’Aun and I suppressed our desire to start laughing. It was a cute moment I’ll remember forever.

Rachel’s question made all the sense in the world to her, but it was flawed. Thankfully, as a father I loved the question.

Sometimes I think we approach God with the same flawed questions that children ask. We ask God about splinters, and I’m sure we make God smile.

Which gets me to Rob Bell’s new book Love Wins. Bell asks a lot of questions. Paragraphs full of them, in fact. It’s a writing style that makes me wonder if he believes it invites us into a conversation. Sometimes it does, but often the questions simply signal the answer he is looking for.

I’m sure Bell would say that he’s just restating the questions he often hears from people who are investigating faith. Well, okay, parroting the questions that he is hearing might be relevant, but he needs to step back and ask if the questions are any good. They often are not.

Of course a book review of Love Wins is not just about the book. It also has to be about the controversy surrounding the book. The book asks such things as: does hell exist? Does heaven? Do some go there and others not? Does God offer redemption even to those who die before making a confession of faith? And from this we get questions like: is Rob Bell a universalist? Is John Piper harsh for tweeting, “Farewell Rob Bell”? Did the publishing house set this whole thing up?

When it comes to the public mud fight, the conversation often spirals down into an argument over abstract concepts that few care about and even fewer have an informed opinion about. It sounds like a couple of 2-year olds arguing about whether Dad has splinters in his face.

The book itself is valuable. I agree with some of it. I’m not going to get into the things I agree or disagree with because that has been debated elsewhere. Suffice to say that I think the book is important because wrestling with big hairy theological questions eventually helps shape the conversation about our relationship with God. But it’s a process that is not terribly interesting to anybody but seminarians, journalists, or people steeped in the Christian culture. A bit like watching sausage made … you know it has to happen, appreciate the results, but don’t really want to get involved.

Speaking of Christian culture, I’m not keen on Bell’s assumption that all readers have evangelical baggage they need to unpack. Bell seems to constantly create a backdrop of an oppressive church culture keeping us from the truth. The narrative (a mantra of many emergent thinkers) is of somebody attempting to flee from a nutcase pastor who wants us to turn or burn. I realize that’s relevant to many, just not to me. I never took those wacko’s seriously to begin with. And they are few and far between. Yes, they exist, but don’t overstate their relevance.

I should also add that Bell perceives things from a narrow North American cultural mindset. He is so intent on being relevant to our culture that he often loses sight of the other 95% of the world.

So it sounds like I hated the book. Actually, I enjoyed it. I’m glad Rob Bell wrote it because it has triggered needed conversations. It’s not the final word on the matter by a long shot. But Bell is doing the best he can, and far better than I could, at wrestling with some complex issues. It’s his job to do that — he’s a theologically trained speaker/writer and he has a responsibility to delve into this. Same holds true for John Piper and others. They are doing their best to ask good questions. Or at least answer the questions that they often hear.

It’s just that I keep having this nagging image of God smiling down and saying, “Well, actually Rob, those aren’t splinters….”