“He descended into
hellâ€
On this
statement we reach a point of contention among Reformed churches, as well as
among Christians in general.[1] Calvin believed that Jesus descent into hell
was “no small moment in bringing out redemption.â€[2] A good majority of Reformed believers have
followed Calvin on this. Yet for being
an ecumenical creed, this particular statement has not generated a thoroughly
ecumenical following. Reformed
theologian Wayne Grudem, for example, tracing the history of the Apostles’
Creed, argues that the disputed phrase only appeared in one version of the
creed prior to 650 A.D., and that Rufinus, the one who included the statement,
intended nothing more than an affirmation that Jesus “descended to the grave,â€
and therefore not to the place of eternal damnation at all.[3]
The
argument could go on, and probably will, without universal agreement. Perhaps it is in a situation like this that
our desire for responsible ecumenism is best tested. Is there an overwhelmingly clear Scripture
that declares the specifics of Christ’s time in the grave? Few would believe so. It would be odd, then, for Scriptural silence
to produce dogmatic statements with unbending adherents. It might be best to say that Christ went as
far as He had to go in order to secure our salvation, by defeating “sin and
Satan and the grave,†as the old hymn goes.[4] Since so much mystery remains concerning sheol, or the Greek equivalent hades as found in the Creed, another
suggestion might be to simply use the Greek or Hebrew word. In any case, we dare not divide camps over
it. Christ accomplished all that He
needed to; His soul was not abandoned to sheol.
The defeat
in the hearts of the disciples during the days of Jesus’ being in the grave
looks in many ways similar to the disorientation felt by postmoderns at the end
of modernity. Just as the disciples had
been clinging to the false hope of military and political victory, not
realizing the messianic significance of the death of their Lord, for centuries
many have clung to the false hopes of the metanarratives and the quest for
universal rationality.[5] By the day of the resurrection, two disciples
walked on the Emmaus road, dejected, stating their hope that Jesus was Messiah
in the past tense.[6] The least likely of all hopes, it seemed, was
that a dead, defeated Messiah would rise from sheol. But to use postmodern
terminology, the false hopes of the disciples had to be deconstructed, and
their eyes opened to a much greater and permanent hope in Christ.
In like
manner, many people are downcast. They
have been burned by every attempt to find life’s meanings, and many have even
tried Christianity. As modernity
attempted to render classic ecumenical Christianity as an insignificant
superstition of the past, to many the story of Jesus seems the least likely of
all hopes. As Jesus expounded the story
of redemption to the downtrodden disciples, “their hearts burned within them.â€[7] As multitudes remain in dissatisfaction with
themselves and the state of the world, so we are to tell them the same story of
redemption, allowing the story of Christ to burn within their hearts. For this reason, we will turn in the next
post from the darkness of Good Friday to the light of Easter morning.
[1] James F.
Kay, “He Descended Into Hell†in Van Harn, 117.
[2] John Calvin,
Institutes of the Christian Religion, Book
II, Chapter 16, Section 8. http://www.reformed.org/calvinism/index.html.
[3] Wayne
Grudem, Systematic Theology: An
Introduction to Biblical Doctrine (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1994), 586.
[4] From
“Guide Me, O Thou Great Jehovah,†by William Williams.
[5] Wright, Challenge, 159.
[6] Luke
24:21.
[7] Luke
24:32.
{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
Travis- I am curious what you make of people who have tried Christianity, have found it not to be their answer, have moved on to another place and are not downhearted, but in fact full of hope, peace, joy and love? Perhaps this is not in the scope of your thesis- although perhaps it is. If you are going to be arguing that Christianity is not one of many valid answers, but The Answer, you will have to reckon with those of us for whom that is, in any objective or verifiable way, not true. (I mean, not true in that Christianity is not the answer for us, not in that it is never an answer for anyone. Clearly it is the answer for you!)
I can see that perhaps your argument might be that we are clinging to false hope, but for those of us who have experience Christianity as an extremely false hope and find a much greater authenticity outside of Christianity, that is an argument that smacks either of lunacy or of a basic refusal to listen to where we are coming from, neither of which seem to be places you come from.
I am sorry. I always throw the tricky questions at you. I really am such a gadfly to you.
Sarah O
There is certainly no easy way to answer the question, nor a satisfactory way to “objectively” answer the question, as though Christians and non-Christians can easily play on the same objective playground and understand each other fully. I could speculate endlessly about the myriad of reasons one might not have experience true Christianity in their attempt, but this would go on and on.
So I’ll answer the question as plainly from a Reformed view as I can. No one who has “tried” Christianity and found it a “false hope” has truly been regenerated by the Spirit of God in the first place, therefore rendering the attempt invalid, or corrupted, by sin. This is not an easy or pleasant answer, but the Christian answer nonetheless. With the whole world fallen, in the opinion of Christianity, no subjective opinion of “what gives me hope” could ultimately serve as a determining factor in where the world’s only hope does indeed lie.
Neither does this necessitate arrogance in the heart of the one believing this, for we who believe this don’t think we came to this great hope because of ourselves, but in spite of ourselves and only by grace.
So I don’t believe that I have to “reckon with” anyone’s particular feelings of hope, in the sense that it is a threat to the Christian position. I do have to reckon with it by humble prayer and petition before God’s throne that He’ll save us all for Christ’s sake. I have to reckon with the personal question, “why me and not so-and-so,” which haunts me frequently.
But I can’t not believe what Jesus said, and it all comes back to that for me. This is where the absurdity and foolishness of faith meets its max for me – while inwardly I may even protest against some of my very own words here, I cannot and will not turn from the Person of Jesus.