Everybody Says So
On our way to Pentecost, I’m considering Baptist pastor and church consultant Thom Rainer’s insights regarding a decline in evangelism in the church over the past, well, decades. The Acts of the Apostles provides our evangelistic roadmap. Part of our trouble is our traditional, comfortable interpretation of our inherited theological system. Part of our trouble is that people out there seem to know more about what they think we are against than what they know we are for. A third factor behind this lack of enthusiasm for evangelistic ministry is that many church members no longer believe Christ is the only way of salvation. A way, of course, a good way, a more direct way, maybe; a happier way, maybe, but certainly not the only way.
Now, you and I can quote the Bible about Jesus being the only way, but are we really to take that literally, or even as something Jesus himself said? Jesus, our Jesus, you know, would never, could never say such a thing. It wouldn’t be compassionate, it wouldn’t be reasonable, it wouldn’t be just, it wouldn’t be fair. Everyone is on their own road, has their own truth, you know, and who am I to say?
I have some special soaps I set out at Christmas time. I’ve had them more than twenty years—this isn’t the sort of soap you actually use! They’re molded like little Scandinavian elves. On the base of one are the words Be Good, on the other, Be Nice: especially helpful around Santa Claus time, but, really, good words year-round. Good as those words are, they are not the Word, no substitute for the Word. My fear is that these words have become substitutes, equivalents, better, clearer, simpler, easier versions of the Word. If a person is good, is nice, doesn’t he or she deserve salvation? Could God really be so unjust, so cruel I might say, as to deny salvation to good, nice people, whether they believe in Jesus or not? Should that really matter?
If salvation just requires being good and nice, at least most of the time, on the whole, do we really need to bother with or be bothered by those places in the Bible where we are being instructed to go and tell people about Jesus Christ? People are good. People are nice. Why would we need to, then? Unless we’ve missed something. Unless it isn’t enough just to be good and be nice, nice as that certainly is. But then we have a problem, because haven’t we been living as if being good and nice were enough? Good and nice, just like Jesus! If we turn to the Word, then, looking for some help, some guidance and direction, we might not be too happy to find that this same Bible tells us, rather clearly in several places in several ways, that no one does good because no one is good. We read that and think it’s not true: we know plenty of good people—us, for example. If human goodness is our grounds for deciding the question of salvation, woe is us.
Neither our supposed goodness nor our supposed niceness is going to be of any help. I hope I haven’t just ruined your day. Saving faith. Only faith saves. Saves from what? Death? Everybody dies. From pain? We all get hurt in this life. Saves from sorrow?—ha. Saves from the judgment of God. “Oh, Lord, you’re one of those?!” No, I’m just listening to Jesus. Sweet baby Jesus is pretty clear about what’s going to happen, and he is also pretty clear about the way to life: “I am the way, and the truth, and the life” (Jn 14:6). Oh, that arrogance! But if it’s true, if he’s right, then it’s no arrogance, it’s the simple truth; it’s reality.
A 2008 Pew Research poll of nearly three thousand adult Christians produced the finding that “A majority of all American Christians (52%) think that at least some non-Christian faiths can lead to eternal life.”[1] Which ones? Judaism? It seems the most likely candidate, right? Except, if keeping the Law—or at least living with your heart set on keeping the Law, whatever that may mean to one person or another—if doing that could lead to eternal life, why send Jesus? Paul writes, “we know that a person is justified not by the works of the law but through faith in Jesus Christ [. . . .] no one will be justified by the works of the law” (Gal 2:16). What about Islam: can it lead to eternal life? Even Muslims don’t know! Buddhism? Such educated, intelligent, peaceful, people. Were no such people among the Philistines, Moabites, or Romans? What’s left—Hinduism, Confucianism, Zoroastrianism? Alistair Crowley?
The underlying point is that, in our day, even Christians of good faith just cannot, will not say that there is only one way. To say so sounds . . . presumptuous, prideful, like a lack of humility. We’re not supposed to know, right? Don’t judge, right? Other people might be right too. Why can’t they be right, too? Can’t we all be right, in our own ways? We all have truths! People nod and say that sounds like wisdom for living. Where have we learned to think that way? The Bible? The Bible teaches humility, certainly: humility under the Word of God, humility that accepts with thanks and reverence that God tells us what we need to know for salvation, tells us the truth. I am the way, and the truth, and the life. Oh, that arrogance!
Another survey, conducted before the one I previously mentioned, found that “seven-in-ten” Christians said, “many religions can lead to eternal life while less than one-quarter [of Christians surveyed] say theirs is the one, true faith leading to eternal life.”[2] Fewer than one in four believers. Be nice, just like Jesus. And I get that. I hear that. It’s no great pleasure to say to people outside, who will ask if I start talking about Jesus, that faith in Jesus is the only way to eternal life. But it ought to be a joy to say so because it ought to be a joy to share the Good News, but so soon as we make what sounds like an exclusive claim, we’re afraid people will stop listening or get so triggered that they become unable to listen. Anger is persuasive, or at least dissuasive, which is good enough.
Jesus knows all about it. So, too, the apostles. Acts records many works of astonishing power. It’s clear that these works are from and through the Holy Spirit. The acts of power have a particular purpose: testimony. Deeds are accompanied by words. Peter, having performed a work of power, interprets and explains it to those gathered around—many hadn’t seen the miracle, but all could hear.
Peter, filled with the Holy Spirit, said to them: “Rulers and elders of the people! If we are being called to account today for an act of kindness shown to a man who was lame and are being asked how he was healed, then know this, you and all the people of Israel: It is by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom you crucified but whom God raised from the dead, that this man stands before you healed. Jesus is ‘the stone you builders rejected, which has become the cornerstone.’ Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to mankind by which we must be saved” (Acts 4:8-12).
Peter shares this exclusive news. He knows there are those who will listen, having seen this sign of Spirit power. Peter knows that just as many, maybe more, will not listen, even having seen the sign of Spirit power. The Apostles, following the example of Jesus, explain and interpret the meaning of the signs. There are those who will not accept the interpretation. I hope you believe that Jesus is the only way to salvation. If you don’t, or aren’t sure, keep praying, keep reading the Bible; make Bible reading part of your daily routine. Here, we’re all on the way, together.
My aim hasn’t been to prove that Jesus is truly the only way. I can’t do that. Only the Spirit can. Peter’s testimony, Luke tells us, came by the Holy Spirit. So, too, belief. Our testimony and their belief are both the work of the Holy Spirit. My aim today has been to think through a reluctance to do evangelism, arising from what’s apparently a growing belief within the church that Jesus may not be the only way to eternal life. For Christians traditionally, historically, eternal life comes with salvation, a restored relationship with God.
A seminary professor once called me a cynic. It strikes me as odd that a philosopher teaching at a seminary for Reformed theology would say that. If you’re not quite sure, a cynic is someone who doubts the purity and goodness of human motivations, someone who sees self-interest at best and just outright selfishness at worst driving human actions, choices, and desiring. I have always regarded myself as a realist. Theologically, that means I’m a Calvinist. It’s been my experience that people like to hear what they already agree with, and that they do not like to hear what they disagree with. If people think about God at all, they probably have some thoughts about His character, some notions about what is in keeping with this character and what is not in keeping with this character. God would. God would never. My God would. My God would never. Now, from where do these notions come? Family? Experiences? Education? Culture? Political affinity? Peers? Church upbringing? The Bible? The Bible tells us, Jesus himself tells us, “No one comes to the Father except through me” (Jn 14:6). He is the only way to salvation.
Faith that makes sense to me. Faith that fits me. Faith that agrees with what I believe, or that at least does not challenge what I believe. Change my living, well, okay—sure, there are some things that may need changing: more exercise, ugh. Less swearing, ugh. Change my living, yeah, alright. Change my believing? Never! Why? The ones who need changing are those who don’t think like us; everybody says so.
[1] https://www.pewforum.org/2008/12/18/many-americans-say-other-faiths-can-lead-to-eternal-life/
[2] https://www.pewforum.org/2008/12/18/many-americans-say-other-faiths-can-lead-to-eternal-life/
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