Hot as Hell

I was driving the other day, when I saw a church sign. I usually always hate church signs. For obvious reasons. This one, though, was so bad that I said, "SERIOUSLY?" out loud. Really loudly.  I've thought about it ever since, and I cannot wait to get this out so I don't have to think about it anymore. Except maybe I should think about it more.

The sign said, "You think it's hot here?"

Pause. Read it again. Okay, one more time.

*sigh* 

This is what we've reduced hell to. "It's hot." You don't want to go there, because it's hot. Really hot. Hotter than Alabama in August. Really?

Hell, fire and brimstone- Everyone knows what that means. You may have even been fortunate enough to hear one of these sermons. Are they effective? Do they make one long for Christ? I guess it would be presumptive to answer "no" to each of those questions. 

How does my understanding of hell affect me - as a Christian? How does it affect the way I see those that are lost around me? Do I have a firm grip of what hell actually is?

Sometimes, when I see huge group of people, I wonder how many don't know Christ. Like a crowd in a football stadium. I wonder if the stadium blew up, how many would meet Christ? (a little peek into the mind of the overthinker. Scary, huh?) Or when I'm watching television, I'll wonder, "Do they know You?" Reading a magazine, in a store, in church. 

"How many don't know You?"

And oddly enough, panic will rise in me. They have to know Him. How do I express that to them? How can I make them see?

Because here's the thing: Hell isn't just hot. And dark. It's total and complete separation from God. From Christ. From the Spirit. And I know that people say they want no part of Him. I hear that. I see that. I know that. BUT. What these people don't realize is that they live in a world controlled by Him. They get that benefit without even personally knowing Him. God is in complete control of this world. He controls leaders' thoughts. He has Satan on a leash. My favorite song says, "He holds everything together by the word of His immovable power." The lost live in a world where He's holding it all together, whether or not they want to admit or acknowledge that. No one has ever lived in a world where He wasn't in control What will a world look like when He's removed His hand? That thought terrifies me. 

But it's not just that, even. There's hope, even for the lost, that they will find Christ. It's why we as Christians are still here on this planet. To point the way. To tell them. To give them that hope. Can you imagine living in a place where that hope wasn't there? 

I'm going to forgo any reservations I have and just be perfectly honest with you without worrying about how this is going to come across. I only want Christ. I'm at a point in my life where I don't care what I have as long as I have Him. And I mean that. I gave up the American Dream years ago. I have dreamed of being an overseas missionary for probably that long too. (yes, the "no bathroom" kind of missionary) I wrestled with letting go of my family. Take my husband. Take my kids. Would it be hard? Oh yeah. Indescribably. I'm to the point, though, that I know, without a doubt, that He is all I need. And He is all I want. I don't want to live one single second without Him. (I'm struggling to let Him be all and everything. For real. Not just in thought or word, but for real. But I don't want to be without Him for a second.)

The thought of Him not being here, with me, makes me panicky. And I feel that panic for the lost. They don't know. They won't know until it's too late.

So what am I doing? I pray, but is that enough? Hell just isn't a hot place, it's eternal separation from the one Thing that I can't live without. And I can't imagine anyone having to do that.

How does this affect how I live? How does it affect how I pray?  How I share my faith? How does it affect how thankful I am for my own salvation?

Do we talk about hell enough? Do we (sanely) assure people that it is real? 

Do you want to know a secret that will firmly cement my insanity? I think about hell. Surprised? And sometimes I imagine that hell will be empty. (Except for Satan and his entourage.) I imagine that when someone dies, God pauses everything. And He in all His great power, in some way I can't really explain, shows the glory and beauty and majesty of what happened on the cross. Somehow He shows the love that Christ displayed on the cross. And in my scenario, no one can deny that, and even though they missed it here, they get that one last chance. And they bypass hell and all of it's horror. Because here, they will understand what we as the Church have failed to convey. Or what the individual's hard heart or pride or whatever kept them from seeing. And believing. 

I certainly can't support that idealistic creation with Scripture. I'm sure there's even Scripture that points out the incorrectness of that whole paragraph. (The rich man and Lazarus comes to mind.) And I'm ignoring predestination for the moment. But I can't help it. I don't use this to excuse my role in furthering the Kingdom. And don't judge me based on a silly scenario that I came up with in my head. Okay? 

I don't think I did a very good job of adequately conveying all that was in my heart on this one. It's hard and complicated. Hell is real, and serious.  It's not just a hot place. It's not an expletive. (This is why, to me, hell is a "bad word" It's not a word you utter when you stub your toe. Could this be another one of Satan's ways to get us numb to a word. A concept? How scary is some thing that you say and hear in a causal context day in and day out?) It's not a place where a guy in a red suit with pointy ears and a pitch fork lives. It's not a place that a sweaty preacher is  threatening you with if you don't walk an aisle. It's not the pun to a joke, it's not a place to compare the summer to heat to, and it's not a place you wish to send your worst enemy. It's the only place where my Savior isn't. It's the only place where there is no hope. It's the only place where my Lord can't reach you. Or touch you. Or save you. And I don't want anyone to experience that. 

You can't really fit that on a church sign. 

I saw a sign the next day that said, "Come to Jesus. It's a happy life." WHAT????? You can probably imagine the blog post that coming on that one..