LOVE WINS.

A Book About Heaven, h.e.l.l, and the Fate of Every Person Who Ever Lived.

by ROB BELL.

Preface.

Millions of Us To begin with, a bit about this book.

First, I believe that Jesus's story is first and foremost about the love of G.o.d for every single one of us. It is a stunning, beautiful, expansive love, and it is for everybody, everywhere.

That's the story.

"For G.o.d so loved the world . . ."

That's why Jesus came.

That's his message.

That's where the life is found.

There are a growing number of us who have become acutely aware that Jesus's story has been hijacked by a number of other stories, stories Jesus isn't interested in telling, because they have nothing to do with what he came to do. The plot has been lost, and it's time to reclaim it.

I've written this book for all those, everywhere, who have heard some version of the Jesus story that caused their pulse rate to rise, their stomach to churn, and their heart to utter those resolute words, "I would never be a part of that."

You are not alone.

There are millions of us.

This love compels us to question some of the dominant stories that are being told as the Jesus story. A staggering number of people have been taught that a select few Christians will spend forever in a peaceful, joyous place called heaven, while the rest of humanity spends forever in torment and punishment in h.e.l.l with no chance for anything better. It's been clearly communicated to many that this belief is a central truth of the Christian faith and to reject it is, in essence, to reject Jesus. This is misguided and toxic and ultimately subverts the contagious spread of Jesus's message of love, peace, forgiveness, and joy that our world desperately needs to hear.

And so this book.

Second, I've written this book because the kind of faith Jesus invites us into doesn't skirt the big questions about topics like G.o.d and Jesus and salvation and judgment and heaven and h.e.l.l, but takes us deep into the heart of them.

Many have these questions.

Christians, people who aren't Christians, people who were were Christians, Christians, but can't do it anymore because of questions about these very topics, people who think Christians are delusional and profoundly misguided, pastors, leaders, preachers- these questions are everywhere.

Some communities don't permit open, honest inquiry about the things that matter most. Lots of people have voiced a concern, expressed a doubt, or raised a question, only to be told by their family, church, friends, or tribe: "We don't discuss those things here."

I believe the discussion itself is divine. Abraham does his best to bargain with G.o.d, most of the book of Job consists of arguments by Job and his friends about the deepest questions of human suffering, G.o.d is practically on trial in the poems of Lamentations, and Jesus responds to almost every question he's asked with . . . a question.

"What do you think? How do you read it?"

he asks, again and again and again.

The ancient sages said the words of the sacred text were black letters on a white page-there's all that white s.p.a.ce, waiting to be filled with our responses and discussions and debates and opinions and longings and desires and wisdom and insights. We read the words, and then enter into the discussion that has been going on for thousands of years across cultures and continents.

My hope is that this frees you. There is no question that Jesus cannot handle, no discussion too volatile, no issue too dangerous. At the same time, some issues aren't as big as people have made them. Much blood has been spilled in church splits, heresy trials, and raging debates over issues that are, in the end, not that essential. Sometimes what we are witnessing is simply a ma.s.sive exercise in missing the point. Jesus frees us to call things what they are.

And then, last of all, please understand that nothing in this book hasn't been taught, suggested, or celebrated by many before me. I haven't come up with a radical new teaching that's any kind of departure from what's been said an untold number of times. That's the beauty of the historic, orthodox Christian faith. It's a deep, wide, diverse stream that's been flowing for thousands of years, carrying a staggering variety of voices, perspectives, and experiences.

If this book, then, does nothing more than introduce you to the ancient, ongoing discussion surrounding the resurrected Jesus in all its vibrant, diverse, messy, multivoiced complexity-well, I'd be thrilled.

Chapter 1.

What About the Flat Tire?

Several years ago we had an art show at our church. I had been giving a series of teachings on peacemaking, and we invited artists to display their paintings, poems, and sculptures that reflected their understanding of what it means to be a peacemaker. One woman included in her work a quote from Mahatma Gandhi, which a number of people found quite compelling.

But not everyone.

Someone attached a piece of paper to it.

On the piece of paper was written: "Reality check: He's in h.e.l.l."

Really?

Gandhi's in h.e.l.l?

He is?

We have confirmation of this?

Somebody knows this?

Without a doubt?

And that somebody decided to take on the responsibility of letting the rest of us know?

Of all the billions of people who have ever lived, will only a select number "make it to a better place" and every single other person suffer in torment and punishment forever? Is this acceptable to G.o.d? Has G.o.d created millions of people over tens of thousands of years who are going to spend eternity in anguish? Can G.o.d do this, or even allow this, and still claim to be a loving G.o.d?

Does G.o.d punish people for thousands of years with infinite, eternal torment for things they did in their few finite years of life?

This doesn't just raise disturbing questions about G.o.d; it raises questions about the beliefs themselves.

Why them?

Why you?

Why me?

Why not him or her or them?

If there are only a select few who go to heaven, which is more terrifying to fathom: the billions who burn forever or the few who escape this fate? How does a person end up being one of the few?

Chance?

Luck?

Random selection?

Being born in the right place, family, or country?

Having a youth pastor who "relates better to the kids"?

G.o.d choosing you instead of others?

What kind of faith is that?

Or, more important: What kind of G.o.d is that?

And whenever people claim that one group is in, saved, accepted by G.o.d, forgiven, enlightened, redeemed-and everybody else isn't-why is it that those who make this claim are almost always part of the group that's "in"?

Have you ever heard people make claims about a select few being the chosen and then claim that they're not part of that group?

Several years ago I heard a woman tell about the funeral of her daughter's friend, a high-school student who was killed in a car accident. Her daughter was asked by a Christian if the young man who had died was a Christian. She said that he told people he was an atheist. This person then said to her, "So there's no hope then."

No hope?

Is that the Christian message?

"No hope"?

Is that what Jesus offers the world?

Is this the sacred calling of Christians-to announce that there's no hope?

The death of this high-school student raises questions about what's called the "age of accountability." Some Christians believe that up to a certain age children aren't held accountable for what they believe or who they believe in, so if they die during those years, they go to be with G.o.d. But then when they reach a certain age, they become accountable for their beliefs, and if they die, they go to be with G.o.d only if they have said or done or believed the "right" things. Among those who believe this, this age of accountability is generally considered to be sometime around age twelve.

This belief raises a number of issues, one of them being the risk each new life faces. If every new baby being born could grow up to not not believe the right things and go to h.e.l.l forever, then prematurely terminating a child's life anytime from conception to twelve years of age would actually be the loving thing to do, guaranteeing that the child ends up in heaven, and not h.e.l.l, forever. Why run the risk? believe the right things and go to h.e.l.l forever, then prematurely terminating a child's life anytime from conception to twelve years of age would actually be the loving thing to do, guaranteeing that the child ends up in heaven, and not h.e.l.l, forever. Why run the risk?

And that risk raises another another question about this high-school student's death. What happens when a fifteen-year-old atheist dies? Was there a three-year window when he could have made a decision to change his eternal destiny? Did he miss his chance? What if he had lived to sixteen, and it was in that sixteenth year that he came to believe what he was supposed to believe? Was G.o.d limited to that three-year window, and if the message didn't get to the young man in that time, well, that's just unfortunate? question about this high-school student's death. What happens when a fifteen-year-old atheist dies? Was there a three-year window when he could have made a decision to change his eternal destiny? Did he miss his chance? What if he had lived to sixteen, and it was in that sixteenth year that he came to believe what he was supposed to believe? Was G.o.d limited to that three-year window, and if the message didn't get to the young man in that time, well, that's just unfortunate?

And what exactly would have had to happen in that three-year window to change his future?

Would he have had to perform a specific rite or ritual?

Or take a cla.s.s?

Or be baptized?

Or join a church?

Or have something happen somewhere in his heart?

Some believe he would have had to say a specific prayer.Christians don't agree on exactly what this prayer is, but for many the essential idea is that the only way to get into heaven is to pray at some point in your life, asking G.o.d to forgive you and telling G.o.d that you accept Jesus, you believe Jesus died on the cross to pay the price for your sins, and you want to go to heaven when you die. Some call this "accepting Christ," others call it the "sinner's prayer," and still others call it "getting saved," being "born again," or being "converted."

That, of course, raises more questions. What about people who have said some form of "the prayer" at some point in their life, but it means nothing to them today? What about those who said it in a highly emotionally charged environment like a youth camp or church service because it was the thing to do, but were unaware of the significance of what they were doing? What about people who have never said the prayer and don't claim to be Christians, but live a more Christlike life than some Christians?

This raises even more disconcerting questions about what the message even is. Some Christians believe and often repeat that all that matters is whether or not a person is going to heaven. Is that the message? Is that what life is about? Going somewhere else? If that's the gospel, the good news-if what Jesus does is get people somewhere else somewhere else-then the central message of the Christian faith has very little to do with this life other than getting you what you need for the next one. Which of course raises the question: Is that the best G.o.d can do?

Which leads to a far more disturbing question. So is it true that the kind of person you are doesn't ultimately matter, as long as you've said or prayed or believed the right things? If you truly believed that, and you were surrounded by Christians who believed that, then you wouldn't have much motivation to do anything about the present suffering of the world, because you would believe you were going to leave someday and go somewhere else somewhere else to be with Jesus. If this understanding of the good news of Jesus prevailed among Christians, the belief that Jesus's message is about how to get to be with Jesus. If this understanding of the good news of Jesus prevailed among Christians, the belief that Jesus's message is about how to get somewhere else, somewhere else, you could possibly end up with a world in which millions of people were starving, thirsty, and poor; the earth was being exploited and polluted; disease and despair were everywhere; and Christians weren't known for doing much about it. If it got bad enough, you might even have people rejecting Jesus because of how his followers lived. you could possibly end up with a world in which millions of people were starving, thirsty, and poor; the earth was being exploited and polluted; disease and despair were everywhere; and Christians weren't known for doing much about it. If it got bad enough, you might even have people rejecting Jesus because of how his followers lived.

That would be tragic.

One way to respond to these questions is with the clear, helpful answer: all that matters is how you respond to Jesus. And that answer totally resonates with me; it is is about how you respond to Jesus. But it raises another important question: Which Jesus? about how you respond to Jesus. But it raises another important question: Which Jesus?

Renee Altson begins her book Stumbling Toward Faith Stumbling Toward Faith with these words: with these words: I grew up in an abusive household. Much of my abuse was spiritual-and when I say spiritual, I don't mean new age, esoteric, random mumblings from half-Wiccan, hippie parents. . . . I mean that my father raped me while reciting the Lord's Prayer. I mean that my father molested me while singing Christian hymns.

That Jesus?

When one woman in our church invited her friend to come to one of our services, he asked her if it was a Christian church. She said yes, it was. He then told her about Christians in his village in eastern Europe who rounded up the Muslims in town and herded them into a building, where they opened fire on them with their machine guns and killed them all. He explained to her that he was a Muslim and had no interest in going to her Christian church.

That Jesus?

Or think about the many who know about Christians only from what they've seen on television and so a.s.sume that Jesus is antiscience, antigay, standing out on the sidewalk with his bullhorn, telling people that they're going to burn forever?

Those Jesuses?

Do you know any individuals who grew up in a Christian church and then walked away when they got older? Often pastors and parents and brothers and sisters are concerned about them and their spirituality-and often they should be. But sometimes those individuals' rejection of church and the Christian faith they were presented with as the only possible interpretation of what it means to follow Jesus may in fact be a sign of spiritual health. They may be resisting behaviors, interpretations, and att.i.tudes that should be rejected. Perhaps they simply came to a point where they refused to accept the very sorts of things that Jesus would refuse to accept.

Some Jesuses should be rejected.

Often times when I meet atheists and we talk about the G.o.d they don't believe in, we quickly discover that I don't believe in that G.o.d either.

So when we hear that a certain person has "rejected Christ," we should first ask, "Which Christ?"

Many would respond to the question, "Which Jesus?" by saying that we have to trust that G.o.d will bring those who authentically represent the real Jesus into people's lives to show them the transforming truths of Jesus's life and message. A pa.s.sage from Romans 10 is often quoted to explain this trust: "How can they hear without someone preaching to them?" And I wholeheartedly agree, but that raises another question. If our salvation, our future, our destiny is dependent on others bringing the message to us, teaching us, showing us-what happens if they don't do their part?

What if the missionary gets a flat tire?

This raises another, far more disturbing question: Is your future in someone else's hands?

Which raises another question: Is someone else's eternity resting in your hands?