Casting into Stone

Dear Fellow Travelers,
     The older I become (and I am fast becoming), the more obvious it becomes (“it,” being the obvious) that it is very dangerous to cast into stone that which you believe to be truth, you know—make a monument out of it—especially, if you really want it to be truth, i.e., if your desire for it to be truth is greater than your desire to know if it is truth.
     Being in the funeral profession, monuments are a part of life for me, kind of like dead folk? You know, they just are—everywhere. As you might imagine, I have spent quite a bit of time in cemeteries; consequently, I have also spent quite a bit of time (mostly out of boredom but some out of intrigue) reading what someone cast into stone regarding the one who sleeps just beneath the stone slab—the deceased. In my reading, I have observed that not everything that has been cast into stone is truth. The name, along with the birth and death dates, might be accurate but the rest, well let me just say that it is not always truth. Sometimes, I think it is a statement of what someone wished to be truth, rather than truth itself, so much so, that they had come to see it as truth (it was more important that what they wished to be truth be viewed as truth, than whether or not it was actually truth).
     For example, the monument for the deceased, abusive father that reads, John Smith - Beloved Husband and Father, is more a statement of what someone wished to be truth, than a statement of actual truth. For some reason, I have never seen the words John Smith – Child Molester cast into the stone face of a cemetery monument. Sometimes (probably, much of the time), it is much easier to cast what you wish to be true into the stone, than to cast the truth itself, especially when the truth itself proves to be contrary to everything you desire.
     Why this? Well, the older I become, the more aware I become that I have tended to cast much of the theology I have believed (and really wished to be true) into stone monuments, so much so that the cemetery that now contains them is probably very overcrowded.
     For example, on the “Faith Lot,” one of the stone slabs has this carved into its face: Only Believe and All Things are Possible. There was a time when I believed this because I desperately wanted it to be true. In my mind, in order for what I had been taught to prove true, this had to be true; otherwise, I would have to ditch the self-righteous notion that I was a man of such faith that God could use me. The message was clear: if God doesn’t come through, it is because you do not have enough faith! As you can imagine, having enough faith was critical to the success of my self-righteousness (which by the way I loved!).
     On the “Sin Lot,” one of the stone slabs has this carved into its face: Sin Separates us From God, Therefore, We Must Stop Sinning. Sadly, there was a time when I believed this because I really wanted it to be true. In order for me to hold on to that which I held so dear (my ability to please God by my self-righteousness ability not to sin), this had to be true; otherwise, I had nothing about which to boast. On the surface, it appeared that I was quite capable of keeping my “sin list” short—very short; however, that which is on the surface is usually polluted, you know, like surface water. Obviously, I never wanted anyone to see below the surface, not even God; therefore, hiding was my drug of choice. Surely, you can see how important it was for me that what I cast into this stone monument be true; to say the least, I wanted it to be truth more than I wanted to know if it was truth!
     As you might imagine, this cemetery is not one of my favorite places to visit; it almost reminds me of the Holocaust Museum—the stench of unnecessary death is everywhere! I say “unnecessary” because had I been more determined to know truth than I was to enshrine what I believed and wanted to be truth, there would probably have been no need for this cemetery in the first place.
     Anyway, there is one more “lot” that I want to mention—the “Hell Lot” and I must admit that the stone slabs in this lot are discolored and tarnished, some even chipped, from the abuse of the years and years of winds and rains beating down upon them.  In this lot there is a granite slab on which I had engraved these words: The Place of Eternal Torment for Everyone Who Does Not See the Truth as I See the Truth. You see, for my entire life as a believer, I have believed that Hell is the place (a literal, burning, fiery, eternal torment) where those who have not put their faith in Jesus Christ for eternal life will spend eternity—the absence of the Presence of God and the exact opposite of Heaven. Well, who wouldn’t embrace this (“who” referring to a protestant believer)? What is wrong with casting this into stone and making a monument out of it? This is, after all, the teaching of Jesus, is it not?
     Well, in the first place Jesus’ definition of eternal life differs just a tad from the definition that this assumption implies. This is the way Jesus defined it . . . that to all whom Thou hast given Him, He may give eternal life. And this is eternal life, that they might know Thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom Thou hast sent (John 17:3; emphasis, mine). Did you notice what is obviously absent in His definition? He makes no reference to time! How interesting! Jesus talks about eternal life but makes no reference to time, whatsoever; instead He equates it with intimacy. Conversely, it is almost impossible for us even to think of eternal life without some reference to time. Attempting to do so is about like attempting to think of swimming without some reference to water.
     Why this? It leads me to think that we might need to reconsider, to rethink our notion of Hell. At the very least, we should consider which of these is most important: maintaining my present belief about Hell or knowing the actual truth about Hell? If you (like me) have already cast into a stone monument your idea of the truth concerning Hell, you will probably find it difficult even to consider an alternative; however, allow me to remind you that both of us have probably been more interested in defending and protecting our monument than we have in knowing truth, which by the way, at least according to Jesus is eternal life.
     I sincerely hope that your “cemetery of monuments” is not as crowded as mine because breaking up cement is NOT easy!