Growing Old

For I could wish that I myself were cursed and cut off from Christ for the sake of my people, those of my own race, the people of Israel. (Romans 9:3-4a, NIV)

A funny thing, well sort of funny, happened to me recently. I discovered that I’m getting old. Mind you, I don’t feel old. I still have all my original parts, no joint replacements, no internal pieces removed or replaced. No new aches or pains or, for that matter, old aches or pains. No major physical, mental or emotional changes. Just a recognition that the number after my name is getting close to starting with a digit I always considered old. And time keeps marching on.

Both of Joanne’s and both of my parents have died. My oldest brother and sister (out of five sisters and two brothers) have also died. Other siblings and in-laws are starting to fight more serious health problems. The inevitability of age, and the corresponding challenges, catching up with us seems more real than it has in the past.

Growing old and someday dying doesn’t scare me, at least not now, and hopefully not when it beckons. What does scare me, and the focus of this article, is what’s going to happen to people I care deeply about who I seriously believe are on the wide path that leads to eternal damnation. Several of my siblings and in-laws and other family members fall into this category and I am frankly terrified of the future that awaits them. Various friends and neighbors are also, to the best of my ability to determine, unbelievers.

In the past, I calmed my conscience by thinking that there was still plenty of time for things to change, for people to change, for people who don’t currently, to believe. However, as time keeps marching forward and family and friends continue to age and face more serious challenges, the recognition has dawned that the opportunities for change are running out. This is creating something akin to a minor panic and contributing to a general feeling of helplessness.

Hell is real. Very real. And very terrible. Not a place I would wish for anyone, yet alone for people I care about. Unfortunately, many more people are headed to Hell than Heaven. This is really, really scary. People that have been a part of my life for a long time are headed to an eternity of suffering, of misery.

While we confess during every worship service that we all deserve eternal damnation for our sins, we no sooner finish our confession than we ask for mercy and forgiveness. This is immediately followed by Pastor announcing the absolution of our sins. Therefore, while we admit eternal damnation is what we deserve, we follow it with hearing Pastor absolve us of the sins that otherwise would condemn us. Our contrition, our recognition of the seriousness of our sins, is alleviated by the knowledge that Christ has died for us, that He has taken on the punishment we truly deserve, and that He has exchanged His perfect righteousness, the requirement for entering Heaven, for our miserable sins.

But what about all those people who don’t believe? What awaits them is going to be awful. An eternity in the fiery pit, an eternity of suffering, an eternity of despair. How do we warn them before it’s too late? How do we get them to open their hearts to hearing God’s Word, to receiving the gift of faith?

I know that I can’t save anyone. I know that it is only by God’s work that anyone is saved. However, knowing this doesn’t free me from the fear of knowing what awaits them. Of the never-ending suffering that Hell offers. Of the feeling of responsibility that I could, and should, do something more. That somehow I could say or do something that would make a difference.

Paul expresses this same sentiment in the passage above. He goes so far as to say that he is willing to trade his salvation for theirs, that he would bear the eternal punishment of Hell if he knew that they could avoid it. Of course, this is not under Paul’s control. He doesn’t get to decide who is saved and who is not. However, he recognizes how awful Hell will be and, alternatively, how wonderful Heaven will be, and he is willing to do anything, including sacrificing his own salvation, if others can be saved as a result.

Paul did, and suffered, a lot to spread the Good News of the salvation that Jesus attained for all via His atoning sacrifice on the cross at Calvary. Paul ran the good race, fought the good fight, probably did as much as anybody then or since to evangelize. Yet, he despaired that it wasn’t enough, that so many people he cared about were on the wrong path, were headed toward an eternity of suffering.

We, like Paul, can’t save anyone (only God can). However, we, like Paul, can share the Good News of salvation that Jesus died for our sins. We, like Paul, can pray for our family, for our friends, for our neighbors, even for our enemies. We, like Paul, can be a witness to what we believe by our words and our actions. We, like Paul, can beg God to have mercy on those who don’t currently believe.

Our God is a loving, forgiving, caring God but also a just God. Our sins demand punishment and those who don’t believe, who aren’t covered by His atoning blood, will have to answer for their sins, will have to accept the just penalty for those sins. While this is terribly sad, it is also totally fair. What isn’t fair is that we won’t have to answer for our sins, that Jesus paid for them on the cross. This is such wonderful news, and so, so much better than the alternative, that we should gladly share it. With everybody.