There are many, many views of Hell. Some believe Hell is real but no one ever goes there. Some believe Hell is not real, some believe Hell is real enough but the fire is not, and some believe even the fire is real. I could easily be tempted to believe that the fire is metaphorical and that to speak of "the smoke of their torment" rising forever is just a vicious stab at picturesque writing, but all of the people I know—or have read—who hold to that view are unimaginative idiots. So as supportive as I try to be of metaphors wherever I find them, I wouldn't want to be lumped in with that bunch.

In fact, the Hell that I imagine is worse than fire: so much worse that I suspect the people in Hell are in such pain they haven't yet noticed there is a fire. And I dare to guess that there are more views about Hell among those in it than there are among those determined to get there.

There is a ministerette, a plus-size, lesbian ministerette who believes some of the things Jesus said but not others. She feels that, as a lesbian, she is "oppressed". She thinks Jesus came to free her of that oppression. About what Jesus had to say on the subject of Hell she is flagrantly illiterate.

In a cadenza of giggles that alarmed my wife I read her views on Hell:

I have a congregant who is in his late eighties, like my dad a veteran of the 2nd World War, also a paratrooper, but one who dropped into France. This man has become obsessed with the idea that he is going to hell when he dies because he killed men in the war. How do I tell him that he has already been to hell, that every hell that exists is a human creation? Having to kill was his hell (it is still his hell, he is still living it). I don't believe in hell, if your definition of hell is a burning pit where bad people go for all eternity. (I reserve the right to wish for a hell for child rapists. I do wish it for them. I want no forgiveness for them. They deserve to go to hell, in the classical sense. Other than that, I don't believe in it.)

Here we have a blithering soul who does not believe in Hell if it involves eternal fire, but she "reserves the right" to wish there were an eternal, fiery Hell if child rapists could suffer there. Not the wife-beaters, the slave-traders, the abortionists, the death camp sadists or the people who take God's name in vain.

So one kind of sexual pervert is willing to accept a fiery Hell, but only for another kind of sexual pervert, and this preacherette of the Gospel wants "no forgiveness for them". Whether a sin offends God is less important to her than how miffed she is, and salvation is not a gift of God, it is an expression of her sentimental prejudices.

No wonder people are showing less and less interest in religion.

I spent last week with my nephew, his wife, and their two-year-old, Elijah, who likes water, birds, flowers, and pulling my beard. I enjoyed playing with his toys. We visited the zoo where he rode a camel, saw penguins, lemurs, elephants, tigers, turtles, reptiles and apes.

He brought from my library a couple of Wodehouse novels for me to read to him. I read a few lines to him and he turned the page...read a few more lines and another page-turn...more lines and another page-turn; it reminded me of how postmoderns do theology.

The week was a pleasant break from the routine for a couple of reasons, but it wasn't all relaxation. We played enough dimpleball to keep the stress levels up in spite of the fact that it was a week without the inanity of Emergence. Aside from a few links in the e-mailbox, I had no idea what the religious flakes were thinking. We did visit a local Fundamentalist church for a Sunday evening service. That was a little like visiting an Inquisition torture chamber but without the stimulating theological Q&A.

I gather Christendom got itself into a lather over Jennifer Knapp's conversion. I'm sure CT published some useful insights, but I have no links to add to that debate.

I did notice that over on the ISI web journal they put together a list of the best 50 books of the century. I've read most of them, but I did notice one that tickles my interest: The Triumph of the Therapeutic, by Philip Rieff. That looks tantalizing.

Go through the list, pick a book, and get understanding.

But as I sat in church yesterday it seemed like a bad time to be two years old.

We were recently infiltrated by some Sesame Street atheists who thought they had proof of the inexistence of God. It got me to thinking about this god they imagine. And what sort of god would there have to be for them to concede his existence?

It's clear to everyone that their criticism of Yahweh is based on their misunderstanding of the Bible, but perhaps that's not a reasonable assumption.

From the conversations I've had with these History Channel theologues, the god they think can be proven not to exist appears to be a snaggletoothed buffoon in need of cash and human attention. He must be someone who forever indulges man's vanity, appetites and ambition without annoyance. He would have to be a janitor, apologist and therapist for every flood, earthquake, holocaust and venereal disease. He would have to be plausible to the stupidest, greediest most short-sighted human on the planet, and he must answer every human demand for understanding of his works. He would have to come every time a believer beckoned and obey every time he was beseeched. (As we all learned as children, if we call our mothers and they don't come, the only reasonable conclusion is that our mothers never existed. And if they didn't give us everything we wanted, it was completely rational to suppose they were malevolent or incompetent.)

Can you think of any other qualities they would find admirable in a god?

If you have any thoughts, please post them in the comments below. Who knows?—maybe you could help me write an Atheist's Systematic Theology and win the Nobel Peace Prize.

Wouldn't that make life worth living?

Hey, there's another one:

What purpose ought our lives serve? How would a creature know when he'd served his creator's purpose?  I mean, how would he know a meaningful existence when he found one?

Our art betrays our love. The recently displayed carping and quota whinging of Emergence doesn't begin to offer the dreams and beauty of orthodoxy.

Savor the difference.

"Now they desire."

There is a sleep we have not slept
   Safe in a bed unknown;
There hearts are staunched that long have wept
   Alone, or bled alone:
Sweet sleep that dreams not, or whose dream
   Is foretaste of truth;
Sweet sleep whose sweets are what they seem
   Refreshing more than youth.

There is a sea whose waters clear
   Are never tempest tost;
There is a home whose children dear
   Are saved, not one is lost:
There Cherubim and Seraphim
   And Angels dwell with Saints,
Whose luster no more dwindleth dim,
   Whose ardour never faints.

There is a Love Which fills desire
   And can our love requite;
Like fire it draws our lesser fire,
   Like greater light our light:
For It we agonize in strife
   We yearn we famish thus—
Lo, in the far off land of life
   Doth it not yearn for us?—

"Oh fair oh fair Jerusalem,"
   How fair how far away,
When shall we see thy Jasper Gem
   That gives thee light for day?
Thy sea of glass like fire, thy streets
   Of glass like virgin gold,
Thy royal Elders on their seats,
   Thy four Beasts manifold?—

Fair city of delights, the bride
   In raiment white and clean,
When shall we see thee loving eyed,
   Sun girdled, happy Queen?
Without a wrinkle or a spot,
   Blood cleansed, blood purchased once:
In how fair ground is fallen the lot
   Of all thy happy sons.

Dove's eyes beneath thy parted lock,
   A dove's soft voice is thine;
Thy nest is safe within the Rock,
   Safe in the Very Vine;
Thy walls salvation buildeth them
   And all thy gates are praise
Oh fair oh fair Jerusalem
   In sevenfold day of days.

---Christina Rossetti

We are back in the sixth grade, people.

Glenn told a bunch of his friends that they should be mad at everyone who talks about "social justice". Jimmy—who talks about nothing else—started crying and is now passing out a list he wants everyone to sign. Signing this list tells everyone in the whole wide world that you promise to be nice to everyone in the whole wide world.

Tony is mad at George for wanting him disinvited to a party. Tony still went to the party, but he wants everyone to know that George was mean to him.

George doesn't want to sign anything with people on it he doesn't like. He wants to be nice to some people, but he doesn't want to have to be nice to everyone in the whole wide world.

Everybody in home room is arguing about whether George is cool or not cool.

No one is laughing at Jimmy for being the biggest sissy since the day Toby cried because Joey smeared white paste on his bookbag.

Anyway, if you want to sign the list, it is here. Please use a pen and remember that neatness counts.

And if anyone wants to trade his chicken salad sandwich for my meatloaf sandwich, please meet me out by the swing set before the bell rings.

Over the years we've picked over a few fragments from the debris field known as the Emergent Church. We should probably tell any new readers that we are curious about the Emergent Church because it is the best measure of the spirit of the age. Not that its people are knowledgeable about the spirit of the age; it's more like they are unwittingly possessed by it.

When, for instance, Trucker Frank and Marie tell us that people should go to church and say whatever they want, that we can all do theology on couches, most of us naturally thought that that had to be the stupidest thing we'd ever heard and when the recreational chemicals wore off they would be able to clarify.

No clarification ever emerged, we're not even sure the emergent church has emerged, and I'm still waiting for the first picnic we were promised.

When the TAG conference degenerated into a tedious discussion about the percentage of the dark noses that could be counted among the white noses, we enjoyed hearing the least diverse collection of ideologues speculate about why white males dominated the blogosphere. Maybe we can check back with them when they manage to achieve the racial balance Liberty University has.

One of the basket cases emergence left in its wake is David Hayward (whom you might remember as the one who rejects "the assumption that we can even have a systematic theological comprehension of everything"). David has left his church, the Rothesay Vineyard. He has dribbled out some disconnected reflections hither, thither, yonder, and yon.

We are not even a little surprised that a pastor would part ways with his congregation; we have seen this before. We know many pastors who've used churches to advance their career, to spread their fame, to pad their resumés.... We've even known pastors to use churches as tax dodges and dating services.

But Dave's story is perhaps special. By his own count hundreds of members came and hundreds of members went, "most of them" [his words] in a messy manner. But he is grateful:

Rothesay Vineyard has been a wonderful training ground for me in all kinds of areas. Most of all, the church has actually helped me get to this place of freedom I am now experiencing. They allowed me to continue to grow, stretch and challenge in all kinds of ways until I realized I don't fit anymore. They gave me the freedom to find myself, my voice, and my call. I emerge from the crucible better suited to do what I know I must. And I'm grateful to them for that.

So Dave was allowed to grow and grow and grow until he no longer fit. He has now found himself, his voice, and his call. He is now free. And Rothesay Vineyard has helped Dave emerge from that particular crucible better suited to do what he knows he must.

You won't find this idea in the New Testament any more than you will find his Z-theory in the New Testament, but the nice thing about the contemporary church is that that doesn't really matter. It's not about the Bible, it's not about the church, it's all about us and our own freedoms.

If you want to know something of a person, pay attention to what he thinks is important. What is it he will fight about?

After the TAG conference Callid Keefe-Perry, independent scholar of postmodern theology and improv actor, dashed off an exceptionally shabby video in order to address an important topic about which he "didn't know what to say". Being a spoken word artist he naturally made a video. If you want to get a fuller sense of what he doesn't know, check it out. It is brief and somewhat humorous. If it were me, I think I would have preferred some sock puppets for dramatic effect, but I'm big enough to allow for another's artistic vision. The "talking half-head" is another way to go.

Callid links to Bob Cornwall's "ponderings". Bob is a fellow-simpleton who wants to "expand the conversation partners" and "democratize the conversation". Why, he wonders, do white men dominate in the blogosphere?

We've all wondered about this, haven't we? We should stay tuned in case any of these thumb-sucking reformers gets an idea while someone has fresh batteries in his camera.

I don't know if it keeps you awake at night, but the whiteness of EC has become a national concern. It's not that black folk don't ever show up, but when they do they whine about there not being a politically correct percentage of them. Statistically insignificant representation by certain people groups was not a complaint the Apostles had to contend with on Pentecost. Why is it an issue now?

So a catfight has broken out: Sojourners asks if the Emergent Church is for whites only, and Tony Jones (a man who never lets an honest question violate the sanctity of his ideologies) then asks if Sojourners is for straight people only. Snappy comeback, hunh? I bet the people back in DC are still smarting from that!

You always find high-quality debate when Tony opens his yap.

The racist views of Soong-Chan Rah are quickly dragged into it, and here on a blog where the typical post gets comments numbering in the single digits we have a firestorm. As of a minute ago there were 61.

Maybe this is theology after "theology after Google".

Perhaps we could all form a large circle and join hands; let's all pray that this religious abnormality, if it be possible, as much as lieth in it, live peaceably with all men. Let us beseech the almighty that black and white, straight and bent, dog lovers and cat aficionados, Ford drivers and people who own cars, can all get along and stop being so silly.

By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, that ye have the appropriate melanin content in your gatherings.

I was asked recently for a clarification of this statement:

When this is all over there will be Christians who'll have learned that the neither the Gospel nor separatism are adequate adhesives for the Church.

In speaking about the fractured state of the modern church it is necessary to admit both the centrality of the gospel and the necessity of separation. Without both you don't have a New Testament church at all; you can watch evangelism devolve into a collection of platitudes or you can view separatists degenerate into a mob of belligerents, but you can't have a healthy church. And what has always been true is now merely becoming obvious.

I should anticipate the objection some will make: not everyone has succumbed. (That's true—although it is also true that we would learn a thing or two from a discussion about who has and who has not succumbed.) But here I'm not talking about every member of the group, I'm talking about the banner under which each movement marches. And I'm really not saying anything surprising: Fundamentalists are fighting over their definition of separation and Evangelicals are fighting over their definition of the gospel. Take as an example the dust-up over Rick Warren's trip to Minneapolis.

Neither a preoccupation with the gospel nor with separation has preserved the most important thing: real piety. No one will ever confuse either Fundamentalism or Neo-evangelicalism with the great movements in church history marked by piety. I'm thinking of groups like the Moravians, the Puritans, the local revivals such as the Wesleyan and Welsh, 17^th-18^th Century Lutheranism...

The fundagelical world has divided itself by making each of these two necessities an organizing principle, and it has, in any number of ways, put these two obligations in opposition to one another. I think our first observation must be that making secondary things primary has actually debased them.

But the point of my original comment—made weeks ago now—is that these ideals have not only failed to preserve an essence, they have even failed to hold the church together. We should like to think that if they didn't stir piety they at least produced unity.

I think this distinction is important to people who care about the future of the church.

But I don't think there's much point in debating which (evangelism or separation) is more important...and if it were important there are enough people still squabbling about it to meet our quotas of bloodshed.

What interests me more is that a preoccupation with this difference has allowed another essential to go unattended: our habits of right feeling. Just because it is essential to keep our beliefs about God pure does not mean our feelings about God are inconsequential.

Neither the gospel-adherents nor the separation-adherents have helped us much, and I think the advent of Emergence is a sneering reminder of that failing. It takes no genius to see that postmodern camp-followers don't care about either the gospel or separation; and what makes them so bizarre by comparison is the total absence of right feeling. They are offensive long before we parse their progressive gospel or their hatred of separatism. Emergents seem to be not just Philistines but Canaanites as well. The interest in oral sex at TAG was not accidental.

I suspect we are following our hoary tradition of fighting battles that have already been lost. Doing that seems to be what makes us feel vital.

Where would defenders of Adele Sakler be in a throng of Christina Rossetti admirers? Who is going to teach Christians that grief is a pleasure with a subtle taste? Who will show us a robust 21^st Century hope rather than trying to simulate a 19^th Century Christian virtue?

Lord Jesus Christ, grown faint upon the Cross,
  A sorrow beyond sorrow in Thy look,
    The unutterable craving for my soul;
      Thy love of me sufficed
To load upon Thee and make good my loss
  In face of darkened heaven and earth that shook:—
    In face of earth and heaven, take Thou my whole
      Heart, O Lord Jesus Christ.

---Christina Rossetti