Dr. William A. Ritter
First United Methodist Church
Birmingham, Michigan
Scripture: 1 Peter 3:18 – 4:6
March 9, 2003
Let me, at the outset of a difficult sermon, make you privy to my difficulty. For I know where I want to come out. What I don’t know is where to begin.
Should I begin musically, with the third verse of this morning’s first hymn, when we sang:
His kingdom cannot fail.
He rules o’er earth and heaven.
The keys of earth and hell
Are to our Jesus given.
Lift up your heart.
Lift up your voice.
Rejoice, again I say rejoice.
Actually, somebody changed the third line. The hymn was written to read: “The keys of death and hell are to our Jesus given.” Have you ever wondered about that?
Or should we begin creedaly, with the version of the Apostle’s Creed which reads: “….suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead and buried. He descended into hell.” Every time I print that version in the bulletin, someone comes to me in the narthex and says: “What’s with the phrase, ‘He descended into hell.’ We never said that in the Methodist church I came from. So why do we say it here?” Have you ever wondered about that?
Or should we begin biblically, by asking: “What was Jesus’ situation….spiritually speaking…. between Good Friday and Easter (or between the last breath of crucifixion and the first breath of resurrection)?” Where was he? What was he doing? Have you ever wondered about that?
Or should we begin theologically, by asking about the fate of those who never heard of Christ….never came to Christ….never named the name of Christ….or never gave their lives to Christ….either because they died before him, lived in total ignorance of him, or turned a deaf ear to whatever salvation might have been available through him? Have you ever wondered about that?
Or should we begin pastorally in the office of a Roman Catholic priest, where a young woman is offering a sizable contribution to the church’s mission fund, if only the priest will agree to say a special mass for her late Uncle Louie on the tenth anniversary of Louie’s death…..given that Louie was a life-long scoundrel who had done nothing about the state of his soul prior to the day his body was flattened into a pancake by a hit-and-run tomato truck. And as the priest took her check, he smiled and said: “Certainly, let’s do anything we can for Louie.” Have you ever wondered about that?
Let’s assume you have. But let’s not begin in any of those places. Instead, let’s begin with a story. A true story.
On a Sunday morning in 1988, the earth shook so violently in Soviet Armenia, that the high rise apartment building in which lived Kevork, his wife Anahid and their two children, crumbled to the ground. Ten-year-old Armen and his seven-year-old sister, Lillit, were preparing to leave for school when the floor fell from under them and they were thrust into a black pit, buried beneath ten stories of twisted metal and stone. Racing back home from the school where he taught, Kevork frantically began dragging chunks of concrete from the jagged mountain of wreckage until his hands bled. Then he crisscrossed the ruined city on foot, hoping to find somebody with the machinery to extract his children from their darkened tomb.
For three dreadful days, Armen and Lillit remained cocooned in suffocating blackness, all but totally removed from the land of the living. Through it all, Armen courageously encouraged his younger sister to keep hope. On the third day, the rescue team reached the children. But Armen died in the hospital two days later, his young body crushed from the waist down. Remarkably, Lillit survived, even though pinned by a steel beam that had lodged itself in her forehead.
Weeks later, over a single flickering candle on the kitchen table, Kevork poured out his anger against God to his friend (and fellow Armenian) Vigen Guroian, who presently teaches theology at Loyola College in Baltimore, Maryland. At that time, all Kevork knew of spiritual matters was what he was taught to reject in the state-sponsored atheism classes of his youth, and what little he could glean from a picture book depicting the migrations of the soul, brought to him by his nephew following a street corner encounter with the Hare Krishnas.
Communism taught Kevork that there was nothing for his son….or for anybody….beyond the grave. And while the Hare Krishna picture book implied that there was, it also told Kevork he would never see Armen in the life that was to come, because only “spirit” survives death, and each individual spirit becomes (over time) one with the Great Spirit….absorbed into the Great Spirit….and, therefore, indistinguishable from the Great Spirit. Slowly, line by Russian line, Vigen took Kevork through the 15th chapter of Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, until they came to the line: “But some will ask ‘How are the dead raised? With what kind of body do they come?’” To which Paul answered: “Just as all flesh is not alike, but there is one kind of flesh for humans, another for animals, another for birds, and another for fish, there are also heavenly bodies as well as earthly bodies. And just as we have had an earthly body, so shall we have a heavenly body.”
Upon reading this, Kevork glowed as he shouted: “Vigen, Christianity is materialist. It says we will have bodies. I will see Armen’s face again as I see yours, now, in the candlelight. What the Hindu doctrine of the Hare Krishnas cannot promise me, Christianity can. I will see my son in the kingdom of the Father.”
Yes, Christianity promises a resurrection of the body. But where? If all Kevork knew of religion (at least until that night in his kitchen) was what Karl Marx rejected or the Hare Krishnas distributed, then it is probably safe to say that Kevork was not a Christian….and that his children, including Armen, were not Christians, either. And even if Armen (at age ten) had heard of Christianity, had he ever (before his death) been baptized into Christ, or publicly confirmed his faith in Christ? If not, what then?
And what if Armen (before showing so much kindness to his sister in the rubble) had exhibited more traits of a very bad little boy than a very good little boy….so that the word “sinner” (which, by definition, fits us all) would have fit him? What then?
Well, the house divides. On one extreme can be found those who would say:
Ignorance is no excuse. Age is no excuse. Country of origin is no excuse. Having parents who slept in on Sunday, or who took atheism classes mandated by the Soviets, is no excuse. Sin is sin. Judgment is judgment. The world does not lack for means of grace. But if you miss them, well, you miss them. Which is not the fault of the God who offers them, but rather of the people who should have seen to it that you received them. There may yet be time for Armen’s little sister….for Armen’s mother….or for Armen’s father. But Armen is damned….as in “Sorry, Armen.”
To which people on the other extreme would say:
No, if anybody’s gonna cut slack, God’s gonna cut slack. Which means there will be huge allowances made for ignorance….for age….for date of birth….for place of birth….for lazy parents who slept in on Sunday….for lazy preachers who put everybody to sleep on Sunday….and (especially) for sin. Because sin is as human as it is rampant. What’s more, each of us knows somebody who does it worse (and more often) than we do. And the other thing everybody knows is that, at the end of the day, there will be more grace in God than there is sin in us. So if additional allowances are needed, God’s gonna grant them, too, because that’s just the way God is. And since God will never be able to admit he failed with anybody, what choice will God have but to take pretty much everybody? So whether he had the name of Christ on his lips, the water of Christ on his head, or the love of Christ in his heart, Armen will be saved….as in “Come on in, anyway, Armen.”
And most Christians gravitate….not run, but gravitate (as in “mosey in the general direction of”)….to one of those two extremes. That’s because Christians can find ample scripture to support either extreme. I wish it wasn’t so. But it is so. On this matter, I wish the Bible spoke with singular clarity. But it does not.
Clearly, were I to test the house, you would want me to say that Armen was saved….that God’s grace was there for him….that God’s resurrection was at work in him….and that the doors of the Kingdom of Heaven were open to him. Because, after all, he was ten years old, for God’s sake….that’s an intercessory prayer, folks. Besides, he behaved like a trooper (albeit a martyred trooper) at the hour of his death. But were I to test the house concerning other names, the vote would be mixed. Because where tolerance and patience for certain people are concerned, most of us get to the end of our rope faster than God gets to the end of his.
But grace-fully liberal though I am, I can’t just throw away all the biblical images that surround the words “judgment” and “hell” as if they weren’t in the book, and as if they didn’t speak to something important. Because they are in the book. And they do speak to something important.
Which brings me to the little letter called 1 Peter, where two things are suggested. That hell is. And that Jesus goes there.
Start with 1 Peter 3:18, where we read:
For Christ also suffered for sins, once for all….the righteous for the unrighteous….in order to bring us to God. He was put to death in the flesh, but made alive in the spirit. In which also he went and made proclamation (preached) to the spirits in prison….who, in former times, did not obey when God patiently waited in the days of Noah, during the building of the ark.
Then pick it up again in 1 Peter 4:6:
For this is the reason the gospel was proclaimed, even to the dead. So that though they had been judged in the flesh….as everyone is judged….they might live in the spirit as God does.
Now I’ve got to tell you that, were you to borrow several commentaries from our library, you would encounter multiple observations that this is the “most difficult passage to interpret in the entire New Testament.” Given a couple of hours, I could introduce you to the issues. But this much seems clear.
What does this passage mean by the word “prison?”
“Prison,” in this passage, suggests an intermediate abode of the dead….likely temporary….perhaps identified (in the earlier days of Judaism) with “Hades” or “Sheol” (where all of the dead assembled to await placement). But by the time of this passage, “prison” also suggests a place of punishment….in other words, “prison” as in “dungeon” more than “prison” as in “train station.”
When did Jesus make this visit?
Presumably on Saturday, between death on Friday and resurrection on Easter. In short, 1 Peter gives us a Jesus who worked the entire weekend.
For whose benefit did this “prison preaching” occur?
In the 18th verse of chapter three, the benefit seems limited to those who got rained to death when Noah went sailing. But by the time we get to the 6th verse of chapter four, the benefit seems accruable to all of the unrepentant dead….including that old scoundrel Louie, who met his faith under the wheels of the tomato truck before he made his peace with God. I lean toward this latter interpretation. After all, why would Jesus have a special interest in one group of damnable sinners (Noah’s generation) at the expense of all the other damnable sinners (which, following our death, might conceivably include us)?
In Acts 2:27, we read words from an early Pentecost sermon about “God’s not leaving Jesus’ soul in hell,” which suggests that very early in the church’s preaching, “hell” was one answer to the question: “Where was Jesus between Good Friday and Easter?” And Jesus, himself, applied Isaiah’s words (Isaiah 61:1) to his ministry about “proclaiming release to the captives.”
There is little question that his “descent into hell” was a widely-preached belief of the early church. It is not a widely-preached belief of today’s church. In fact, this may be the first sermon you have ever heard pertaining to it. But there is one place where it is proclaimed fiercely and frequently….that being the Orthodox Christian churches. For our Orthodox brothers and sisters, Holy Saturday may be even more significant that Good Friday or Easter. Because, for them, that is the day when Christ descends into hell, knocks down its gates, and liberates its captives….including all those men and women from Adam forward who have died a corruptible death. In the Eastern Orthodox Church, a “corruptible death” suggests being cut off from God rather than merely wasting, rotting or burning for eternity.
A Byzantine hymn reads:
Today, hell groans and cries aloud: “My power has been destroyed. I accepted a mortal man as one of the dead. Yet I cannot keep him prisoner. And with him I shall lose all those over whom I ruled. I once held in my power the dead from all the ages. But see, he is raising them all.”
I mean, people actually sing that. But, when you think about it, how is that so different from what we sang mere minutes ago?
His kingdom cannot fail.
He rules o’er earth and heaven.
The keys of death and hell
Are to our Jesus given.
Many of you know that Eastern Orthodox worship is rich in visual imagery. Church sanctuaries often resemble art museums. There are paintings on the walls and frescoes on the ceiling. There are also wonderful icons and triptychs, depicting the core theology of the congregation. In a masterful painting by Khatchatur, the event that the Orthodox call “the harrowing of hell” is depicted thusly:
Christ is clad in nail-studded boots. And with one of those boots he is trampling a prostrate Satan. One foot is on Satan’s neck. The other, on Satan’s rump. Furthermore, he holds a red cross (red, being the symbol of royalty), with the base of the cross implanted in Satan’s head. With his free hand, he is pulling Adam and Eve loose from that which binds them.
Which is why a Lenten prayer in the Orthodox tradition concludes:
To earth thou didst come, O Master, to save Adam. And not finding him on earth, thou didst descend into hell, seeking him there.
Mythic language? Of course it is. It may even be as much poetry as it is theology. But it has an important purpose. Its purpose is to say: “If Christ descended into hell and preached there, then there is no corner of the universe into which the message of Christ has not come….and (by implication) cannot come.”
I have noticed something funny in my 38 years of ministry. People who preach eternal damnation….and the world does not lack for people who preach eternal damnation….never seem willing to suggest (with specificity) that any particular person is damned. Which means that in our heads, we want to retain the possibility. But in our hearts, we pray it is not so.
Father Richard John Neuhaus….a brilliant Anglo-Catholic….is, in almost all matters spiritual and social, positioned well to the right of me. Nonetheless, we join company in his wonderful volume, Death on a Friday Afternoon: Meditations on the Last Words of Jesus from the Cross, when he writes:
If we love others (as Christ says we must), it seems that we must hope, in the end, that they will be saved. In fact, we must hope that all will one day hear the words of Christ: “Today, you will be with me in paradise.” Given the evidence of scripture and tradition, we cannot deny that hell exists. We can, however, hope that hell is empty.
Let me wrap that around again.
Given the evidence of scripture and tradition, we cannot deny that hell exists. We can, however, hope that hell is empty.
* * * * *
Under his breath, the blasphemer said to me: “To hell with Jesus.” To which I said: “We’d better hope so. We’d better hope so.”
Note:
In addition to traditional biblical commentaries, I have drawn heavily from a book entitled Sin, Death and the Devil: A Fascinating Exploration of the “Unholy Trinity” in Today’s World. Edited by Carl Braaten and Robert Jenson, the book features essays by some of the leading biblical scholars in America. Vigen Guroian proved to be especially helpful with an essay entitled “O Death, Where Is Your Sting?”
The book by Richard John Neuhaus is entitled Death on a Friday Afternoon: Meditations on the Last Words of Jesus From the Cross. Quite simply, it is the best book on the subject I have ever read.
