After death – the judgement

Isaiah 11:1-10

Romans 15: 4-13

Matthew 3:1-12

 

When you think about your ultimate destiny, how does John’s promise of the wrath to come, or of an unquenchable fire grab you?  It's the kind of language that reminds me of the kind of stickers that went around in the early '80s and that Christian teenagers would put on their files at school.  I never had one, but several friends of mine had next to their twee Garfield stickers and Bay City Rollers’ stickers one which simply said this on it: “After death-the judgement”.  Nice. 

 

It also reminds me of when I took a friend of mine called Sharon out on a hot date to the local Gospel Hall.  We couldn't find anything else to do on a Sunday evening.  It was a small chapel in a side street in Sherborne.  All the men were in suits and up the front, and all the women in hats and in the pews - apart from the organist who had to pedal with both feet to get enough air into the little organ.  Needless to say, Sharon and I were the youngest there-in fact the smallish congregation couldn't actually believe that anyone of our age would walk through the door, and we were ushered up to the front in wide eyed amazement.  Well, the preacher that evening just happened to have chosen one of the most gory passages from Revelation to preach about and did he preach-for about an hour.  I can't remember much about the sermon except for it must have been about some kind of judgement because every five minutes he would utter the phrase "the second death" and turn and stare at me and Sharon with a particular meaning in his eyes.  You won't be surprised to hear that things never really got anywhere with Sharon, but the whole place felt like it was from another era.  And so did the man's message.

 

With associations like these it is not surprising that we don't like the idea of judgement.  The ways in which some of us have been taught about judgement give us an impression of Christianity which thrives on fear more than it does on love.  My own upbringing was in the Roman Catholic Church, and here this situation is just as true. 

 

It reminds me of when Father Murphy walks into a pub in Donegal, and says to the first man he meets, "Do you want to go to heaven?"
The man said, "I do Father."
The priest said, "Then stand over there against the wall."
Then the priest asked the second man, "Do you want to got to heaven?"
"Certainly, Father," was the man's reply.
"Then stand over there against the wall," said the priest.
Then Father Murphy walked up to O'Toole and said, "Do you want to go to heaven?"
O'Toole said, "No, I don't Father."
The priest said, "I don't believe this. You mean to tell me that when you die you don't want to go to heaven?"
O'Toole said, "Oh, when I die, yes. I thought you were getting a group together to go right now."

 

Throughout the last century there has certainly been a public rejection of the kind of scaremongering that was associated with Catholicism - the language of the church on all sides about judgement now seems thankfully to have been consigned to another era.  Judgement is looked down on in lots of other respects in our society - Mary Whitehouse’s campaigns were mocked, tabloid tut tutting we find distasteful.  These kind of things put the whole question of having any kind of judgement at all into disrepute.  But if we return to the question of the judgement of God-surely one of the biggest problems we have with this idea is created by the fact that we are aware of so much suffering in the world, we are aware that people's lives are so broken by their circumstances and that so many innocents have suffered in the last century, that to be faced with a fearful judgement from God on top of it all seems too overwhelming, even too unfair.  Whatever way we look at it, judgement as a concept throws up all kinds of difficulties.  If only we could find a way to avoid it.

 

Well, we found it difficult to avoid last week in the collect when we talked about Jesus “who will come again in his glorious Majesty to judge the living and the dead.”  We will find it difficult to avoid this morning in the post communion prayer, when we will talk about the “son who was sent to redeem the world and will come again to be our judge.  And we have found it impossible to avoid during our confession when we were reminded that “When the Lord comes,  he will bring to light the things now hidden in darkness, and will disclose the purposes of the heart.”  In the worship at least we seem to be pretty focused on God’s judgement.

 

When we look at the Scriptures it's not difficult to see from the Old Testament that God is a god of judgement whose day will come.  And it is certainly safe to assume that John the Baptist was pretty hot on judgement.   But what about Jesus?  The man of compassion, the man of love.  Where did he stand?  It would be nice to think that Jesus tempered things down a bit, told us God wasn't really serious.  C.S. Lewis had in this to say about a popular conception of Jesus: there is a most astonishing misconception that Jesus preached a kindly and simple religion (found in the Gospels) and that St Paul afterwards corrupted it into a cruel and complicated religion (found in the epistles).  This is really quite untenable.  All the most terrifying texts came from the mouth of our Lord."

 

It was Jesus who said "if you say, "you fool," you will be liable to the hell of fire."  It was Jesus who said "I will declare to them, "I never knew you; go away from me, you evil doers."  The paradox of Jesus was that although he was the most compassionate loving person, in his presence people knew judgement.  “Go away from me Lord, for I am a sinful man."  Jesus was in a way the most judge mental person in history.  You have to go through some convoluted theological hoops to take judgement out of Jesus.

 

But let's shift of the tone a little.  Let's start talking about judgement as a positive thing.  Presumably when we hear Isaiah saying that “with righteousness he shall judge the poor, and decide with equity for the meek of the earth”; that kind of judgement creates a different feeling in us.  Perhaps it's hardly surprising that those who find the idea of God's judgement difficult are those in the richer countries of the world-those with the money, those with the power.  I wonder if the starving of Africa have a problem with the idea of God's judgement.  I wonder if the oppressed of South America quibble over it.  I wonder if the refugee or the outcast or the wrongfully imprisoned are concerned to water down God's judgement.  And presumably too our spirits were lifted a little by the thought of how John promises that the hypocrisy of the Pharisees and Saducees and their like will be exposed.  And presumably also when it comes to the blatant evil of genocide, ethnic cleansing, and the more heinous crimes we can imagine it would be good to think that God was interested in calling those perpetrators to account.  It's just perhaps when I think of myself the judgement becomes a little more tricky.

 

The concept of judging then can be a good thing.  It can bring justice.  In fact, if there’s one reason to believe in the judgement of God it’s this:  that there is only one thing worse than justice, and that is injustice.  God must be, if anything, just.  He must lay bare the things which history has hidden.  He must judge for the mothers of the disappeared in Chile – to ignore them would be injustice.  He must lay to rest those have been wiped out from history.  He must put to right all those matters, great and small, which have marred his creation.  To ignore them would be injustice.  I also believe in the justice of God for another simple reason.  My conscience is flawed, my morality inconsistent, and yet there burns inside of me a determination for justice to be done, for wrong to be put right.  I believe that has come from somewhere, I believe it is something to do with the image of God in us.  And if our desire for wrongs to be righted, fickle as it is, is so much a part of who we are as human beings, then I believe it must all the more be part of God. 

 

In addition, it is perhaps in judgement that God takes us most seriously.  He says our decisions count for something.  As a contrast, the atheist professor Richard Dawkins has argued that life has in essence no real justice.  He writes this:

“The universe we observe has precisely the properties we would expect if there is, at bottom, no design, no purpose, no evil and no good, nothing but blind, pitiless indifference….DNA neither cares nor knows.  DNA just is.  And we dance to its music.”

A universe without the justice of God is cut adrift – no consequence, no good to be strived for, no evil to be vanquished.  No reckoning for Hitler, for Stalin, for anyone.  Just one amoral act followed by the next.  Without understanding the judgement of God where then will we find a framework for believing in morality – for choosing between right and wrong – that is more than about self interest?  We need a greater reason than self-preservation to believe our moral choices are important.

 

Three men died in a car accident and met Jesus himself at the Pearly Gates.

The Lord spoke unto them saying, "I will ask you each a simple question. If you tell the truth I will allow you into heaven, but if you lie....Hell is waiting for you.

To the first man the Lord asked, "How many times did you cheat on your wife?" The first man replied, "Lord, I was a good husband. I never cheated on my wife." The Lord replied, "Very good! Not only will I allow you in, but for being faithful to your wife I will give you a huge mansion and a limo for your transportation.

To the second man the Lord asked, "How many times did you cheat on your wife?" The second man replied, "Lord, I cheated on my wife twice." The Lord replied, "I will allow you to come in, but for your unfaithfulness, you will get a four- bedroom house and a BMW.

To the third man the Lord asked, "So, how many times did you cheat on your wife?" The third man replied, "Lord, I cheated on my wife about 8 times." The Lord replied, "I will allow you to come in, but for your unfaithfulness, you will get a one-room apartment, and a Yugo for your transportation.

A couple hours later the second and third men saw the first man crying his eyes out. "Why are you crying?" the two men asked. "You got the mansion and limo!" The first man replied, "I'm crying because I saw my wife a little while ago, and she was riding a skateboard!"

 

God calling us to account gives us an imperative not to hurt each other.  Judgement on a human level is ultimately necessary for our life together.  Ask any parent trying to bring up a child.  Judgement says we matter, judgement says others matter, and judgement says we are too precious to stay as we are.

 

At this point several of us are probably thinking, “If God judges us, then what about my neighbour, my friend, my lover, my husband, my wife?  Or even worse, what about those I have loved who have died?  How are they judged?”  Many people spend years of their lives paralysed by such questions.  We don’t know the mind of God.  We can get into all kinds of hypothetical imaginings and calculations.  But the real answer is in a question:  Do we trust God to be more sensible about these matters than we could come close to being?  What, after all is this God of judgement like?  Isn’t the spirit of the Lord about wisdom and understanding, of knowledge and insight in Isaiah?  Isn’t he the God of steadfastness and encouragement and hope and peace in Romans?  Isn’t the judge the crucified one?  Yes he judges, but is he likely to make a dodgy decision?  Are we likely to be able to pick him up on a couple of points of order?  Will not the judge of all the earth do right?

 

God is the God then who will lay bare every aspect of our lives, and who will call us to account for them.  He will lay bare our money, he will lay bare our power, he will lay bare how we have used our sexuality, he will lay bare how we have treated our family, our neighbours, he will lay bare our commitment to the body of Christ, he will lay bare our hearts.  This knowledge calls us on.  It calls us to work out our salvation with fear and trembling.  It calls us not just to be slightly improved versions of our old selves, but redeemed people.  This knowledge calls us to be baptized by the Spirit, who will work in us as a purifier, to bring change.  It calls us to prepare the way of the Lord in our lives, so that we are ready to see him face to face.

 

That is the personal calling to each of us as individuals.  But we have too a joint calling as brothers and sisters in Christ which the judgement of God requires of us.  And that is to affirm to the world around us that values, decisions, morals in all areas of life matter.  That they are not a matter for individuals but for all.  That God’s judgement gives us an imperative to see justice done.  It doesn’t make us into judges, standing aloof and self-important.  But by the quality of our own lives and the things we stand for we show that we take this world and the people in it seriously, as God takes it seriously.  Seriously enough to be its judge.

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