royals? really?

I have been noting with something approaching bemusement the hoo-hah regarding the Royal Nuptials so recently concluded in the wee hours (PDT) of this morning, and trying to figure out what all the fuss is here in the US. Facebook is rife with commentary and comedy. I have seen several statuses asking the question, "What's your Royal Wedding name?", inviting friends to combine the names of dead relatives with dead pets and street names to come up with a high-falutin name worthy of, ahem... Will and Kate's guest-list. The wife of one of my friends hosted a party to which the guests wore their wedding gowns to watch the event together.

I have been pondering all of this and have concluded that the Royal Wedding is much like St. Patrick's Day, during which, of course, everyone is Irish. In the same way, for the Royal Wedding, we are all loyal subjects of the Crown of England, cheering on the new Prince and Princess William, Duke of Cambridge with all vigor and stiff upper lips and whatnot. Of course, we pay no attention to the conflict this must set up within us as good Irish (that was so last month)!

Now, don't get me wrong; they seem to be a sweet couple, and I pray them a long and loving marriage in defiance of the statistical odds, and the tragedies of less recent royal marriages. And we all love pageantry, don't we? I mean, look at how we dress up our children for preschool "graduations" these days? We seem starved for pomp and circumstance.

But the question arises for me, and I wonder that it doesn't for every American: Didn't we undertake a war 235 years ago in defiance of the notion of being subject to the Crown? I seem to recall that some very smart and sincere men penned a little document called the Declaration of Independence, wherein some words were written about being "Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown." I know this because I spent a great deal of time as a child memorizing the dialogue from Stan Freberg Presents The United States of America Part One: The Early Years, wherein Tom Jefferson attempts to get Ben Franklin to sign off on the document before the 4th of July holiday ("You're so skittish! Who possibly could care if you do?" "The Un-British Activities Committee, that's who!"). I mean, what else are you going to do when you're 15 and you are imprisoned in a one-room cabin for weeks on end when you hate fishing and the only other things you have to entertain you are a .22 rifle and the Big Stinky Fly Trap?

So I'm trying to figure out this fascination with the Royals when it occurs to me: we, even those of us steeped in Independent America, are longing for a King. We mostly don't even realize it, because we have so long drunk at the tap of Independence that we think we are quenching our thirst for fountains of Living Water, when all we are doing, really, is sipping from a muddy cup. I am proud to be an American. I believe America was formed from the embodiment of good and godly principles of Christian faith. I believe we have done some of the greatest good a nation can possibly do throughout our short history. But I believe there is Someone larger than the United States of America to Whom I owe my fullest allegiance, and even my very life.

We are in the midst of celebrating the Resurrection of this King, and our resurrection with Him, who follow Him. He is the true King of all kings, the Real Royal of which all earthly royals are but types and shadows. He is the King we long for, even though we may not know it, even though we deny it; somewhere within us we know we need Him, and we desire to be subjects of His Kingdom. This is what we are created for; this is our deepest and most magnificent Obsession. And under His reign, we ourselves, simple independent commoners, become royals. A blessed Eastertide to all.

...or what's a heaven for?

There has been so much heat—and no small amount of light, as well—throughout the Interwebs surrounding Rob Bell's latest book, Love Wins, that I feel compelled to say something about the subject. Not about the book, mind you, nor even about Bell himself. I have not read Love Wins, and I honestly have no intention of so doing. There are some excellent reviews out there, if you are interested. I, though, find it difficult enough to keep up the good fight of reading things I believe will increase my knowledge and wisdom regarding the things of the Kingdom of God. To spend any great amount of time reading that with which I must necessarily do mental and theological battle is for me misuse my time, apologetics not being my prime calling.

While the idea of "know thine enemy" is a valid one, the depth of that knowing is something we must carefully judge. And while I am pretty certain I would not classify Bell as "enemy", he seems to ascribe to certain—well, "fuzzy" is not too unkind an adjective, I think—ways of thinking about God and the Gospel. So much of what passes as theology today is what H. Richard Niebuhr described as liberal thought: the idea that "A God without wrath brought men without sin into a kingdom without judgment through the ministrations of a Christ without a Cross"—in other words, a theology without theology, or at least such as could be recognized by the Fathers of faith. Add to this my belief that the best way to spot the counterfeit is, as the Secret Service knows, to get intimately familiar with the real, and I feel the need to reflect.

So, it seemed fitting and proper to me, during this Holy Week, to spend a little time looking at the truth of the Gospel, and why it is important. In 900 words or less. Bold, you must admit, if somewhat audacious. Please keep your appendages within the vehicle, and remain seated at all times until the ride has come to a complete stop.

The first thing to remember about the Gospel is this: it is an offense to the thinking of the world (cf. 2 Peter 2.6-8, 1 Corinthians 1.18-31). Nothing about "dying in order to live" makes any sense to the world. The notion—in a culture where it is imperative that no one ever feel bad about himself—of being broken, or (God, or Whoever, forbid!) a sinner and in need of being fixed or "redeemed", is anathema.

The Gospel, however, is clear: every human being, save One, is a fractured image of humanity, of what we were intended to be—a clear reflection of God (cf. Genesis 1.26). Every one of us. Everyone. We have rebelled against God, and in the reality of creation, those who rebel against the Creator are doomed to die. That death, again according to Scripture, is eternal and tormenting. This is the bad news; and we have to deal with the bad news before we can approach the Good News. That bad news can be summed up thusly: Without direct intervention from a Source outside ourselves, we shall surely be lost, tormented in death forever unending. This thought does not make people happy. Nor is it intended to. It is, however, the truth; and it is offensive.

But it is not the end of the story. Once we acknowledge the bad news we can pass through it to the Good News. And the Good News is this:

For God so loved the world, that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through Him. Whoever believes in Him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God" (John 3.16-18 ESV). 

The short version: God does not desire that we suffer the penalty we ourselves have incurred, but has indeed made a way that we should not have to suffer that penalty through the work of God the Son, Jesus Christ. Contrary to the false premise some theologians put forth, God does not condemn His creatures to Hell; He rather provides the means, through the shedding of His own blood and the giving up of His own life, for us not to have that horrific never-ending end.


God is holy, and His holiness cannot, by very nature, abide that which is unholy. Jesus is completely holy. He is also completely human. Because of that, humanity has access once again to the One True and Holy God. We are saved, not by our own doing, and not because God is too nice to let anyone spend the eternal life He gave him in the torture of unending death. No, we are saved through trusting in God's unending, unquenchable, unconditional, unfathomable love revealed through the death of God the Son by the horrific torture of the Cross. While our lot is death forever, in Jesus Christ we may have life forever. Which will we choose?