BodyZenSoul Salon is located beside the ZED Café near Francos in the conservative Richmond neighborhood of Lakeside. I doubt that full blown Buddhism is practiced there, but eastern vibes are unmistakable. Just down the street is Divine Magic, complete with Wicca window signs.
All around, witness a growing population of Hindus, Muslims, Jews, Jehovah Witnesses and Mormons, not to mention scores of “out of the closet” atheists/agnostics. Lakeside-area schools are well versed on how to navigate the choppy waters of religious pluralism. But churches? Not so much.
Often I'm asked, “Pastor, what about people of other religions? Are they saved or damned in eternity?” At face value, the question is a sincere concern/hope that everyone makes it “in”—or, at least, that God is fair. Even so, I can't help but wonder if lurking somewhere beneath the question is a more subtle need to hear, “We're right, right? They're wrong, right? We're in, right? They're out, right?” How would you answer?
Many of us “experienced” believers remember a day when almost everyone in the community had Christian roots. In those days, historic biblical knowledge about Jesus Christ was a shared American value. Even those who chose not to follow Jesus acknowledged his divinity, death on the cross for sins, and resurrection. On a scale of 1-10, the average person in our community might have scored a 7 or higher.
In that “Christian” context, a simple invitation (gentle jolt) at a crucial moment might've been the tipping point for many to receive Jesus. Preachers, Sunday school teachers, deacons and even grandma could effectively assert, “Come to Jesus or go to hell”—to which even unbelievers would nod in agreement. Well, that day is over—with a capital O.
A new generation of Americans do not (widely) accept historic biblical teachings about Jesus. Even youth who were raised in church seriously question the “absolute need” to “believe” in the Savior. I know all this is disconcerting (I feel it too!), but it's reality. It can accurately be said that younger (and some older) Americans reject orthodoxy (right or wrong) in any form.
For me—not speaking on behalf of anyone else, but for me (and possibly you too)—Jesus is Savior. He saved my life; he showed me a vision of a better way, forgave my sins, and filled me with hope for eternity. I believe that my name is written in his book. I believe that he is the Savior of the world, the unique-sinless Son of God, crucified on a cruel cross as God's “propitiation” (satisfaction) for the sins of humanity, resurrected Lord, and coming King. Moreover, Jesus is the “gatekeeper” of eternity. He is the Way, Truth and the Life! (John 14)
You say, “Okay, sounds like he's in. What about others? Do Buddhists, Hindus, Mormons, Jews, etc., go to heaven or hell?”
First, let me say that we could learn much from others, including (especially) those with whom we disagree. There is a time to speak and a time to listen; we have two ears and one mouth. Those who wish to be understood should first seek to understand.
Second, we do not “convert” people. The Holy Spirit is God's agent for conversion. He convicts, convinces and enters the heart. Our efforts to “save” people from the outside-in only frustrate the inner-workings of God's grace.
Third, we are not the final judges of who's in, who's out. It's not in our job description; it's above our pay grade. We cannot usurp the place of Jesus as sole arbiter of right or wrong, in or out. Before him “every knee shall bow, every tongue will confess …” (Philippians 2).
I recall a conversation in which Peter asks Jesus concerning John, “What about him?” Jesus replies, “If I want him to remain alive till I return, what is that to you? You must follow me!” (John 21:22). Hmmm. Ouch!
When I ask: “Jesus, what about them?” I cannot help but hear him say, “What's that to you? You must follow me.” But, “Jesus, are they in or out?” Again, “You must follow me.”
As followers, we can only trust that Jesus is indeed the Way. We trust that all who come to him will be given a joyful entrance into the Kingdom. We trust that Jesus alone decides who's in and who's out. It's not our call. If Hindus, Buddhists, Jews, etc., enter the Kingdom, we are confident that Jesus is the gatekeeper. What is that to us? It's not our call; it's his. “We must follow him.”
Sure, as a pastor trained in the Scriptures, I can package a collection of verses into an airtight argument that seems logical and truthful. With a few well-assembled verses I can shut down the conversation. “Take it or leave it; turn or burn. Come to Jesus or go to hell.” I can (and did on many occasions) “prove” the point. But do I best serve the cause of Jesus the Christ by doing so, or do I mostly satisfy my need to “prove” “I'm in. They're out?”
Personally, I'm confident that Jesus died for the sins of the whole world. Without Jesus I would be a lost soul; I would be lost now—and forever. This news I will shout from the highest mountain. But my job is to follow him, to share his Good News—how he entered my life, forgave my sins and leads me from day to day, and to tell how he will do that for all who come to him. Our task is to share this Good News with every creature on earth. While some are “in” and others “out,” nevertheless, Jesus is the Way, the Truth and the Life for all who come through him.
Well, that's the best I can do on the matter. Did I say that everyone goes to heaven no matter what? No. Did I say there is no need to trust Jesus? No. Just the opposite. I simply said, “Who's in or out is not my call.” Jesus is the only judge, the only gatekeeper, the only Savior of the world. He is the only One who died for the sins of the whole world, including our neighbors—the Hindus, Buddhists, Jews, Muslims, etc. All who come to and through him will find rest for their souls. Praise his Name.
I plan to revisit Lakeside's ZED Café and the Divine Magic shop in the days to come. I will go not to say, “Hello, I'm Pastor Poole. By the way: I'm in; you're out.” Nor dare I say, “We're all in.” I will simply tell what Jesus has done for me and will do for all. ‘Tis enough.
I close with this: A friend on a mission trip to a far away culture was asked, “Why did you come so far?” His answer: “Because I wanted to share that God loves you so much that he came to earth as a man and sacrificed his life so you could know the depth of his love for you. His name is Jesus.” To which came the response: “Oh. I know him. I just didn't know his name.”
Could it be? Would you allow? Is there the slightest chance that someone near just needs to know his name? In case you missed it, lean down here … come closer… listen… to this faint whisper:
His name is Jesus.
Michael Poole is pastor of Hatcher Memorial Baptist Church in Richmond.