Don't Quit Too Early

 There is a classic and well-known story of R.U. Darby and his uncle during the Colorado gold rush era (late 1800s/early 1900s). Here’s the factual account as recounted by Darby himself.

Darby’s uncle caught “gold fever” and staked a claim in Colorado. He and the young R.U. Darby began digging with pick and shovel. They struck a vein of gold ore, which was promising enough that they covered the mine, returned east to raise capital, bought machinery, and resumed operations. The first loads of ore sent to the smelter confirmed it was rich—experts said it looked like one of the richest veins in the region. They recouped their investment quickly.

Then the vein suddenly disappeared. They drilled desperately in every direction but couldn’t find it again. After months of frustration and mounting costs (with no more gold showing up), they decided it wasn’t worth continuing. They quit, sold the mine and all the equipment to a local junk man for a few hundred dollars, and went home.

The junk man wasn’t an expert miner, but he had a hunch they had stopped too soon. He hired a mining engineer to survey the site. The engineer’s advice was simple: dig in a different spot, just three feet from where the Darbys had quit. They did—and struck one of the richest gold veins ever found in that part of Colorado. The new owner went on to make a fortune from the very same claim.

That is a moving story, and it has loads of places that it applies. But I think it applies in theology and in Bible study as well, and that's what's capturing my attention today. 

I was discussing some basic Christian doctrines with Father recently, and I felt like he smiled and nodded to me and said, "Yes, but you may have quit digging in this one too soon." 

He and I have had this conversation before, but this time was a little different. It's not uncommon that he & I discover (well, I discover, while I'm with him) new treasures about his character and his ways, particularly when I'm considering new things that I haven't considered before. 

But this time, I was considering well-established truths, doctrine of the Church (and if I'm honest, dogma for the Evangelical community). We were talking about hell. 

I've been taught about hell, though pretty often, it's been in the context of "Turn or burn." For years, I've been growing less comfortable with "Turn or burn!" applying to my Creator who gave up his place in Heaven to become a slimy, squalling human baby, then grew up to teach us about the nature and Kingdom of God, and then submit willingly (what?!?) to a brutal murder so that you and I could be set free from sin and death. "Turn or burn!" doesn't fit that kind of self-giving, self-sacrificing love. 

Recently I've been reading George MacDonald. You know, the guy that influenced CS Lewis to the point that he called him his "master" as he came to faith. That guy. 

"MacDonald preached the unthinkable: that God's love is for everyone, not just the "elect." Now that sure sounds a whole lot more like Jesus (and a whole lot less like Zeus) than the "Turn or burn!" that I was raised under. 

That sounds a whole lot more like Philippians 2: "Instead he [Jesus] emptied himself by assuming the form of a servant, taking on the likeness of humanity. And when he had come as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death — even to death on a cross."

So my left-brained, analytical, western mind shouted at me, "Well if this is true, then hell can't be true!" or at least the kind of sadistic "burning forever in a lake of fire" type hell that the evangelists shouted about at the end of his fire-and-brimstone message. 

I was in a quandry. The Bible talks about hell (though we conflate a number of diverse ideas in our translations). So I maybe shouldn't just disbelieve what the Bible (actually) says about it. 

But the idea that God loves everybody is in the Bible, too. 1 Timothy 4:10 talks about "We have put our hope in the living God, who is the Savior of all people, especially of those who believe." All is a pretty big word. Maybe I shouldn't just disbelieve what the Bible (actually) says about this, either. 

What a quandry. 

Into this context, he reminded me: "Which pedal do you push on a bicycle in order to go forward?" Well the answer to that one is that I push whichever one is up, one after the other. It's not either-or. It's both-and. 

I had to admit, I've been prone to "binary thinking," where if I accept one thing as true, then I feel obligated to reject any other idea on that subject. (Examples of binary thinking include, "I didn't get that promotion, so my work here is meaningless and I'll never succeed." or the hallmark example of our day, "Donald Trump is the worst president we've ever had!" vs "Donald Trump is the best president we've ever had. The reality is that there's good and bad in most people; deal with it.)

I've run into a number of people who have discovered that God really IS good, so they have concluded that hell must be a lie or a misunderstanding. And I know a number of good folks who understand that hell is real and it's horrible, some of whom have actually visited it, so the idea of God welcoming everyone is anathema to them. 

So today, I was thinking about these, and the conundrum it was for my literal, logical mind. And it was into the middle of that, that Father whispered, "Yes, but you may have quit digging in this one too soon."

I'm beginning to think that maybe he's not as fond of black-and-white answers as I have always been.