Hide in the saving sin-cleansing blood
And I will pass over you.
When I see the blood, when I see the blood,
I will pass, I will pass over you.
O great compassion! O boundless love!
O loving kindness, faithful and true!
Find peace and shelter under the blood,
And I will pass over you.
When I see the blood, when I see the blood,
I will pass, I will pass over you.
When she stopped, Betsy was breathing deeply and Hope realized she was sound asleep.
Tears filled Hope’s eyes, and she continued to sit unmoving, the motherless girl sleeping happily in her embrace.
47
Inquisition
The two women and one man walking along Bloomsbury were not smiling.
They were on business too sacred and important for smiles. It had been five days since their fateful meeting together. Sometimes the Lord’s work was unpleasant, but they, his appointed guardians of truth, must take on the unpleasant task of separating the wheat from the chaff in order that the flock under their care not be misled.
They walked to the door of the parsonage of New Hope Chapel and sounded the knocker.
Timothy answered. His smile and greeting were returned by cold stares and nods. He recognized them all, and knew from their faces that they were not bearing happy tidings.
“Please, come in,” he said warmly.
The three followed him inside, the man of the triumvirate puffing from the exertion of the walk.
He sat down stiffly. One of the women also joined him. The other preferred to stand.
“Would you care for some tea, Mrs. Packer?” asked Timothy.
“That will not be necessary.”
“And you, Mrs. Paulus . . . Mr. Roul?”
The treasurer and chairman both shook their heads. It was uncomfortable enough having the man be nice to them. They wanted to get their business over and done with as soon as possible.
The initial discussion was brief and formal. They presented the charges, which were brief and comprised chiefly of the four points upon which they felt they could make an ouster stick. Although their objections to his theology were many, the four points raised were that the minister had expressed a hope that animals would share in the life to come, that his teachings on the Sabbath and tithing were suspect, that he had given it as a scriptural possibility that some provision may exist for the heathen after death, and finally that in general his ideas were tainted with liberal theology.
Following were listed many minor points that some in the congregation, notably two prominent deacons and their wives, were reported to have raised.
When Timothy finished reading the text that had been put before him, he looked around at his visitors and could not help breaking into a smile, which was followed by a laugh of incredulity.
“You cannot actually be serious?” he said.
“I am afraid we see no humor in the matter, Mr. Diggorsfeld,” replied Mrs. Packer, who had refused the chair he had offered, drawing herself up in an offended manner, which, with her hair in a great bun on top of her head, made her appear almost six and a half feet in height. “These are highly serious matters of great import. We must protect the flock and preserve doctrinal truth.” It was clear from her expression that she was not about to flinch in the face of adversity, and that Timothy’s character and simple honesty would not move her an inch.
“But these statements are so exaggerated as to be not representative of truth at all,” said Timothy.
“You do not consider yourself a liberal?”
“Not only do I not consider myself one, I am not a liberal.”
“What are you, then?”
“I hope I am a disciple of Jesus Christ. Beyond that, I do not care for labels.”
“Are you an evangelical?”
“As I said, I do not care for the label. But I will consent to it for your sake—yes, I am an evangelical.”
“Do you consider yourself conservative on the major doctrines of the historic church?”
“I do.”
“And yet you hold to such views as outlined here?” said Chairman Roul, speaking for the first time.
“As I indicated, most of what is written here is so exaggerated and unfounded as to be preposterous. So I don’t know how to answer your question. We could take them point by point, but I am not certain that would accomplish a great deal. I will not defend myself. If it is enlightenment you want into my beliefs, as much as I can provide that without defense, I will try to oblige you. Let me respond, therefore, by saying that I do not try to be conservative or liberal. I try to find and live by the truth of the Bible. If others choose to interpret that quest for truth according to certain labels of their devising, that is not something I can prevent. But labels generally do not well serve the search for truth.”
“But you are an evangelical?”
“Being an evangelical does not mean I do not think. That is the one thing I always try to get my people to do—following, as I see it, the example of our Lord who did exactly the same with his disciples. I realize that many in ecclesiastical leadership are threatened by free and fresh thought. But where there is no thinking, I do not see how true faith can exist at all.”
“I must take exception to what you say,” said Roul.
Timothy nodded respectfully. “At what point, Mr. Roul, if I may inquire?”
“That people should be encouraged to think,” he replied. “Any minister who believes that is doomed to fail in the pastorate. It is for theologians to outline the doctrines of truth and then present those doctrines to the people in a simplified manner that they can understand.”
“Where in Scripture, if I might ask, did you come up with such an idea?”
“People are not capable of accurately dividing the word of truth,” answered Roul, avoiding Timothy’s question.
“Then you have less faith in the human mind of God’s creation than I do. God wants thinking men and women searching for truth in his Word, not swallowing the traditions of the elders without asking which are right and which are wrong.”
The chairman paused briefly as he wrote down Timothy’s statement, then looked up again.
“What, then, is your role as their pastor?” he went on. “It does not appear that you do much for the people if you intend to leave them floundering without direction.”
“Is that what I said?” replied Timothy. “I prefer to see my role as pointing them to faith, and encouraging them in the living of that faith.”
“How do you accomplish that?”
“In many ways. One of those ways is to teach and encourage them to ask questions, as I said, to think, and to go both to the Bible and their heavenly Father for answers.”
The three looked around at one another with knowing glances. More notations were added to the growing inventory of incriminating quotes.
“But not to teach them the doctrines of the church?”
“It is my duty,” responded Timothy, “to teach the truths of the New Testament and the teachings of our Lord Jesus Christ.”
A brief pause followed. Mrs. Packer now decided to drive straight into the crux of the matter with no more beating around the bush.
“What about the charge that you deny the importance of Jesus Christ and the cross for salvation?” she asked.
“It is untrue.”
“There are those who say that you look to the Father for salvation.”
“I do, exactly as did Jesus Christ himself.”
“So you consider the Father more important than Christ for salvation?”
“I consider that our salvation lies in the love of the Father. It was to take us to that love that Jesus came to earth, that he died, and that he rose again, in order that we might know salvation in the Father’s love and forgiveness and be one with him.”
“Upon what do you base such an unorthodox view?”
“Upon the words of our Lord himself.
”
“Do you consider Jesus Christ the source of salvation?”
“He is the door to our salvation.”
“But I insist that you tell me—what do you consider the source of salvation?”
“The love of God.”
A long silence followed, during which the chairman and Mrs. Packer made a few additional notes.
48
I Believe
Let me ask you another question very directly,” now said Chairman Roul again. If the women were afraid to speak the word, he was not. He wanted to get to the bottom of this single question most of all. “Are you or are you not a universalist?”
Timothy took in the question and inwardly sighed. He would prefer to follow the Lord’s example and say nothing. He realized his words would be less than useless against such a mentality, and that silence in the face of an accusing spirit was normally the best course of action. Yet on this occasion he felt the need to clarify his position as best he could. Maybe one of them would hear him.
“No,” he said finally. “I am not a universalist.”
“What, then, is your view on the afterlife? Do you believe in hell?”
“Of course,” replied Timothy. “It is a clear scriptural truth, one intended, as is everything of God’s, for the ultimate benefit of creation. How could I not believe in it? The Bible is the source of truth, and upon it I base everything I believe.”
“Oh, so you do believe in the Bible,” commented Mrs. Packer with obvious sarcasm. “I hadn’t been able to tell.”
“Certainly I believe in the Bible.”
“You believe it is the literal and inspired Word of God?”
“Definitely,” replied Timothy, looking at them more perplexed than ever. “My entire life and ministry is based upon its principles and precepts.”
“Then . . . where do these charges against you originate?” she went on.
“I presume from people who love the Bible’s truth less than I do.”
She squirmed and was silent.
“So you believe in the literal inspiration of the Bible?” now repeated Mrs. Paulus, still unable to bring herself to accept his affirmation.
“Absolutely.”
“But, as I understand it, you are in sympathy with the universalist view?” said Roul, coming back to the sticking point.
“I am intrigued by it,” replied Timothy. “But I recognize that the Bible is not clear on the matter, just as it is not clear on many matters. I believe God desires us to inquire into but not be dogmatic on such issues. Therefore, I have formed no definite opinion.”
“How can you possibly say the Bible is not clear on the matter?”
“I assumed that you were familiar with the contradictory verses.”
“Now you are saying that the Bible contradicts itself!” exclaimed Mrs. Packer.
“Anyone who has studied the Bible knows as much.”
“I thought you believed it was the inspired word of God,” said Mrs. Paulus.
“I do. But for reasons known only to God, it contains contradictions, or perhaps what should more accurately be called apparent contradictions. That is why we must approach it with a thinking and open mentality.”
“Give me an example of such a contradiction,” said chairman Roul, poising his pen to take down Timothy’s words, thinking that this should provide all the evidence they needed.
“Well, since you brought it up, your question about universalism offers a perfect example,” replied Timothy. “We have Matthew 25:46, Philippians 2:10, and John 12:32 all staring each other in the face—the first seeming to indicate eternal damnation, the latter two apparently indicating universal salvation through Christ. These three passages force me—as one who believes that all Scripture is inspired, not just those portions which bolster my own views—to keep an open mind with regard to the afterlife. I have no alternative but to say, ‘I do not know the answer to this scriptural conundrum.’”
The three shifted uneasily. It was not the answer they had expected.
“The Word of God is unequivocal,” said Mrs. Packer, quickly gathering herself to resume defense of the faith. “‘And these shall go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.’”
“I agree with you, Mrs. Packer,” nodded Timothy, then added a smile as he went on, “those words do seem unequivocal. Just as unequivocal as Jesus’ words when he said, ‘If I be lifted up from the earth, I will draw all men unto me.’ It is indeed a mystery, is it not, what is in God’s heart to do?”
She did not see what there was to smile about.
“I take it, then, that you believe all men will be saved?” said Roul.
“Not necessarily,” replied Timothy. “I don’t know. My point is simply that Jesus said he would draw all men to himself. Since I take the Bible as truth, I do not know how to reconcile the everlasting punishment of Matthew 25:46 with the all men of John 12:32 and the every knee and every tongue of Philippians 2:10. Therefore, being one who believes that we must take the whole Bible as it comes to us, not pick and choose to support our opinions and traditions, I keep an open mind. I say that the Bible has not revealed full truth to us on this matter, just as it has not revealed full truth to us on many matters. In short, I am not a universalist, but neither am I not a universalist. I am a disciple of Jesus Christ and a son of his Father. I seek to obey them both, and I leave full revelation of truth, and the eternal souls of mankind, believers and unbelievers alike, in his hands.”
“Why do you insist on propagating this particular doctrine?” said Mrs. Packer, her face flushed in anger at what she had just heard.
“I don’t,” replied Timothy. “What I have just said to you behind closed doors, I have never said from the pulpit. I especially do not propagate it because, as I said, I honestly do not know what is in God’s heart to do. These are high matters that can be confusing to some who have been so steeped in the tradition of the elders that they have ceased to be capable of thinking without fear of committing some doctrinal indiscretion. I do not care to try to set anyone right about this or that point where that tradition satisfies them, especially if they long for nothing more in the way of meat and drink for their souls. And in particular I have no interest in propagating a view I am uncertain of myself. I simply want people to think, and to approach their Bibles honestly, not fearfully and with closed minds. So I do not talk of these things openly.”
“There are those in your congregation who say that you force this view upon others.”
“They are in error. They make more of my words than I intend. There are also many people of my acquaintance, and in the church as well, who have no idea I even think about such things. Speculation about the afterlife is no more important to me than any other aspect of faith. Far less important than obedience, for example, and many other more important truths upon which I base my ministry.”
“And what would those important truths be?”
“That we seek to discover the character and nature of God, and that we obey him.”
“And you consider that more important than doctrinal purity?”
“In that doctrinal purity is impossible in this life, I consider knowing who God is and obeying him absolutely more important. We are commanded to love God and live by obedient faith. Nowhere that I know of are we commanded to seek doctrinal purity above those two highest commands.”
Timothy paused a moment, then continued.
“My intent as a minister of the gospel is to point people to their heavenly Father. For those many whose image of him has been marred by a centuries-old tradition not based in the Gospels, I attempt to introduce them to their real heavenly Father—that is the Father whom Jesus called Abba—and tell them that he is good, loving, and trustworthy, exactly as Jesus said he was. Upon that foundation, I try to help Christians think, to encourage them to prayerfully search the Scriptures. On matters of doctrine I try to encourage them to draw their own conclusions as they feel the Spirit of Christ leading them. Raised in
the tradition of conservative evangelicalism, I have been a seeker along the same road as most of my people. Even now I do not hesitate to say that my own perspectives remain growing and incomplete.”
“Then we want to know your position on these things now,” said Mrs. Packer.
“What things?”
“I should think it would be obvious,” she answered in a huff, “—the afterlife, heaven and hell, eternal judgment and damnation.”
Timothy thought a moment.
“All right, then. I shall try to answer you as best I can. What I am comfortable saying with absolute certainty on the matter is this—”
He paused and glanced at all three. Their pens were ready to take down what he said, and when he opened his mouth he spoke slowly so there could be no mistaking his words.
“—I believe that the love, goodness, forgiveness, and trustworthiness of the Father of Jesus Christ are infinite,” Timothy went on. “Therefore, I trust Him completely. Though he slay me, yet will I trust him, and so may all creation likewise trust him. He is a good Father, so all he does must be good and can only be good. His essential nature is love, so everything that proceeds out of his divine will must reflect that love. It is in his heart to forgive infinitely. Jesus told us so. Therefore . . . we may trust him, and trusting him, may trust him for all things, for all men, for all possibilities. What is in the heart of God the Father to do will be full of love, full of goodness, and full of forgiveness. And in those foundational truths of his essential nature and character I rest. In those foundational truths of his essential nature and character are all my questions swallowed up. I am at peace . . . for I trust Him.”
“Is that all?” said Mrs. Paulus.
“Beyond that, I care not to go,” answered Timothy. “You asked for a statement of my current view, and there you have it.”
“That sounds like a liberal speaking, Mr. Diggorsfeld,” said Mr. Roul.
“That is your label, not mine.”
The chairman squirmed slightly in his chair.
“To speak bluntly,” Timothy continued, “in my view the key reason why those on both sides of this issue struggle so hard to systematize their personal theologies, and err in the process, is that they don’t trust God enough. That is why this issue has proved so divisive in the church this past half-century in our country. So many feel they must put together a system of belief constructed out of their own incomplete intellects.”
A New Dawn Over Devon Page 22