Standard of Cleanliness in a Personal Anecdote

Projectile vomiting is not a sport.

But if it were, my infant daughter would be among the elite.

Chloe suffers from chronic stomach pain because of a repairable condition she had called gastroschisis. She was born with her intestines outside her body, resulting in her noteworthy ability to propel stomach content at great distances. It is extraordinary to behold.

This is why my wife, Kyoung, and I call Chloe a two-person baby. Feeding her can be a complicated event for us, and a painful affair for her. So, when I’m home, I try to be as helpful as I can when it comes to her feedings. Recently after breastfeeding Chloe, Kyoung handed her to me for burping. It was during this time the following scene unfolded.

After 20 minutes of back-patting, (and without warning,) Chloe’s mouth erupted with jiggling curds of sour milk. She apparently wanted to share her meal. It soiled my arms and legs, as well as the folds of her neck, her chest, her shirt and blanket. Kyoung was almost hit from across the room.

This time the volume of milk was impressive. I estimated she tapped as far back as nine feet into her small intestine. The mess would take a while to clean up, so I quickly wiped her down and gave her back to Kyoung to feed again. I worked on the carpet. Cleaning Chloe herself had to wait until she was full, because a hungry baby is difficult to deal with. I planned to change her shirt and blanket and wipe her down with a warm rag, (she just had a bath).

So, she ate again and Kyoung gave her back to me for re-burping. After a few minutes she produced a dry (thankless) burp and I began the laborious process of changing her shirt and diaper. I say “laborious” because she has a low tolerance for being touched in any way unrelated to affection, (an unfortunate result of five weeks of pokes, prods, surgeries and shots). So, changing her clothes makes her cry, and this time was no exception. But the true lamenting didn't occur until I began wiping her face, neck and chest with a warm, wet cloth. (I had to; she smelled like sour milk and stomach bile.)

Despite her protesting with what I call her propeller arms and piston legs, I finally got a clean shirt back on and wrapped her in a fresh blanket to warm her up. At this point I was not in her favor. No sooner did I get her calmed down did she make a calculated statement about how she felt about me. She looked right at me with a sort of infant defiance, and calmly vomited again, in a controlled and measured manner. It was as if she was saying, "Take this dad. This is for rubbing me with that awful wet rag."

So I had to go through the whole ordeal of changing and cleaning her again. She protested and gasped, and lathered herself up in a furious little mood. That is the thanks I get for maintaining a standard of cleanliness.

She's going to hear all about this when she is older.

The Forsaken Jesus: What does he mean when asking God why?

At the moment before Jesus' death he asks a troubling question: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" (Matt. 27:46, Mark 15:34). When Jesus makes a peculiar statement like this, he just might be saying much more than we first realize.

Did God forsake Jesus? Or is Jesus calling our attention to Psalm 22? His Jewish contemporaries would likely have had it memorized:

The Enemy: Parable or Personal?

Is Satan real, or only a fable?

In some Christian circles people will argue Satan is a fable, or merely an abstract force of evil personified in the imaginations of people who need someone to blame (other than God).

Some people reject the idea of Satan because the way he’s been caricatured in the West. Believing in a red-tailed, hoofed and horned boogieman, such as Gary Larson, portrays Satan as, is beneath most adults. And for good reason. But dismissing the caricature should not lead to dismissing the real thing.

Since Satan makes very few appearances in the Old Testament, some people argue the Jews adopted the idea of Satan through Persian and Greek influences over time. They will say that by the first century the erroneous idea of Satan had snuck its way in among the Jews. But this is no sound evidence to dismiss Satan as real. There are multiple possibilities explaining his few cameos in the OT – I’ll list three: 



1) The role of Satan had little to do with the communication goal of the OT – that is the rebellion of humanity (where he is mentioned in Gen. 3), the establishment of Israel as a theocracy, the need of an established sacrificial system to shadow the mission of Jesus and Israel’s rebellion (representing Adam and all of humanity). 



2) The reality of Satan may have been gradually revealed by God to the Jews. We get a very narrow picture of Satan in Eden from Genesis 3 and not much after that in the OT. But as time went by, God could have revealed more and more through the Holy Spirit to the Jews. This wouldn’t be the only time God gradually gave the Jews more knowledge about spiritual things as centuries passed. C. S. Lewis (in his book Surprised By Joy) pointed out that God gradually introduced the idea of an afterlife and heaven to Jews. He revealed only Himself first. Until a certain time the Jews believed only in earthly existence and had an idea of retributive justice (do good, you will prosper; do evil, you will suffer). The Sadducees took this line. He may have gradually revealed Satan’s role as well.



and



3) God could have introduced an accurate idea of Satan through pagan influences and revelation. God is known in the Bible to reveal special knowledge to Gentiles too. Melchizedek, Pharaoh, the Persian king, the wise men of Matthew and Cornelius are examples.

Christians who think Jews and early Christians erroneously adopted the idea of Satan must be prepared to accuse all the authors of the New Testament (plus Jesus), of this error. They all describe (or imply) Satan as a personal being who is leading an insurrection against God. (A few examples include all accounts of Jesus temptation, Mark 3:26, Acts 26:18, Rom. 16:20, 2 Cor. 2:11, 1 Pet. 5:8, and 1 John 5:19.) If God really is omnipotent, (and Satan a fable) God would have found a way to accurately communicate the truth in His inspired Word. Plus, NT authors were closer to Jewish antiquity than any of us are and had access to better historical documents that we do. Additionally, Luke and Paul were highly educated men and they along with all NT authors were capable thinkers. To assume they got it wrong and we got it right is an example of what C. S. Lewis calls chronological snobbery; that the philosophy, ideas or worldview of an earlier time are inherently inferior when compared to that of contemporary thinkers.



Christians who accept Satan as fictitious will have a hard time accepting the Bible as the inspired word of God (verbal plenary inspiration), as it claims itself to be. If Christians suppose the authors of the Bible were wrong on this account, how can they be sure NT authors are credible in other areas? If I were to be convinced Satan himself were merely a fable, (and I was honest about it), I could no longer call myself a Christian; the Bible would be nothing more than a set of errant historical documents. 



I suggest if we take away the belief of a powerful, personal, corrupt being who rebelled against God and has an agenda to influence and deceive mankind, we are putting people in a very dangerous position. The Bible commits a moderate amount of text to warning people about Satan and his schemes. If we dismiss Satan, we are not likely to take these warnings seriously – and the warnings are there for a reason.

Introspection: A convincing apologetic

A Christian need not be a well-read scholar to justify his faith. Although there is plenty of evidence supporting theism, the Bible, and historicity of Jesus, one need not be familiar with that evidence to honestly and rightly conclude Christianity is The Way.

Take the following example:

The most targeted area of attack on Christianity is the creation account in the book of Genesis. As many Christians will agree, it seems too elementary and mythological. How could the heavens and earth and all its creatures have been created in seven days? Why does modern archeology suggest the earth is so much older than what the Bible seems to suggest? What of the dinosaurs? Where did they come in? If the Bible is truly God’s inspired Word (Verbal Plenary Inspiration) why does it seem to contradict what modern science has hypothesized?

First, allow me to propose there are many scholarly and Biblical answers to these questions – that’s where good Christian apologetics come it. But one need not look at all the external and scholarly sources to draw a logical conclusion in favor of Christianity. There are plenty of theories in harmony with Genesis 1-2 that explain reasonable possibilities. For example, it is important to know that the thesis of Genesis is not to provide a scientific answer to man’s origins. This was not God’s purpose in providing the Genesis account. God did not aim to scratch the intellectual itch of all the skeptics by answering how the universe was made, and how long it took. Were this His purpose, I suppose we would have gotten way more than what we bargain for. Instead, His purpose was two-fold: (a) to introduce himself as the One supreme creator, and (b) to wake up humanity to its spiritual ruin based on the fall of its first parents. Details and time of creation are not the point of Genesis or the Bible. The point is our redemption.

But knowing things like this isn’t what inclined me to trust the Bible. When I came to believe, I did not first look at all the academic evidence before believing, (and there is sufficient evidence). I did not consider things like the dinosaurs. But even if I had looked at all the arguments against the truth of Christianity without knowing favorable arguments, it would not have altered my course (1). I did not need the secondary source of authority when I had the primary source of experience. And this experience I’m talking about is accessible to every person – namely, the fact that something is obviously wrong in oneself and the world.

Here’s what I mean. All of us (at an early age) come to find the world is not always a just and morally fair place. We find there are people who will steal from others; there are those who hate and murder based on ethnicity; spouses commit adultery; women, and even men are raped; and we find genocide in our history books, (and many find themselves the victim of these things). So we all come to the simple conclusion, based on first-hand experience, that something is not right, not just. As many apologists will point out, we get this idea of justice and morality from an authority above man, namely God. Were naturalism true, Christians argue there would be no moral instinct and no impulse to label some things as honorable (such as charity) and other things as despicable (such as avariciousness). After all, aren’t we all appealing to a higher standard when we say, “that’s not fair”? Who determines what is right and wrong if not God? And where did we get the instinct if he did not put it in our hearts? If this realization were enough to convince a person to believe in God (and ultimately Jesus,) then nearly everyone would be a theist. It took a step further to convince me. It took self-examination.

Any person who will look honestly at his own heart will find there is something seriously wrong on the inside. Any honest man will admit he has frequently violated the standard of conduct he expects from other people. The alcoholic knows his drinking is harmful, but continues to do it; the thief will protest when he himself is stolen from; the unfaithful husband does not like to find his wife being had by another man; the liar wants the truth from others. These are simple examples, but the human heart is very complicated and every person is guilty of failing to be what they themselves believe is right and good. C. S. Lewis put it best: “All men alike stand condemned, not by alien codes of ethics, but by their own, and all men therefore are conscious of guilt” (2).

This is what brought me to my knees in horror and disgust. After wondering for years why there is so much madness, pain and injustice in this world, a look inside at my own heart revealed the very problem was inside me. I could no longer smugly point out the evils of this world without introspection revealing myself to be one of the culprits. When one looks in the mirror and sees a loathsome mess, despair is a common reaction. Who wants to be foul? An even further discouragement was a realization I was helpless to change. Many a religious person has attempted, through personal effort, to bring about an internal change only to make a devil of himself with hypocrisy. You can clean the junk out of a river, but if that junk is welling up from the source, it will ever be dirty.

But I looked into my heart and found ugliness and corruption there; and further, I found no effort of my own would change it. So what if behavior can be altered – when the source is contaminated, no man (save One) can change it, because it would require a new source. A plant cannot uproot itself – something outside the plant must do the uprooting. When I realized this about myself, I found no other religion offered a satisfactory answer to the problem. Hinduism claims sin comes from ignorance and we must simply become enlightened. Buddhism claims the problem is desire, and we must starve our desire to be happy. Islam agrees with Christianity about sin, but in Islam, one must do penance – no substitute or regeneration is offered. These three major religions basically expect the plant to uproot and replant itself in “good” soil – and this is impossible. Only the Judeo-Christian position provides a way for a person to be properly reunited with its creator; because we need something on the outside to come in and wrench the source of evil (our hearts) out of us. Only the heart’s maker can change the heart. Only something higher and uncreated can suck the poison out of a man’s heart, and even then, the act is a thing that kills. Ripping the root of evil from a heart tears it asunder and kills the man. That is why only God can do it – because it requires one to be brought back to life again to make it through the ordeal. Thus, it is a miserable affair, but a necessary one. As Tozer put it, “The ancient curse … must be extracted in agony and blood like a tooth from a jaw. … There must be a work of God in destruction before we are free. We must invite the cross to do its deadly work within us” (3)

This is why no amount of rhetoric and evidence will convince a man to follow Christ. If God doesn’t do the calling (John 6:44), all one can do is alter a little behavior, but the heart continues to produce rubbish. This is also why a man (like myself) can come to trust and believe without studying all the academic and historical evidence and theories. Although sufficient evidence to believe is there, that is not what causes people to trust. The heart is “deceitful above all things and desperately sick” (Jer. 17:9, ESV). A deceitful heart can and does tamper with evidence and draws convenient conclusions.

Redemption begins when the man recognizes the wretched condition of his heart and becomes undone by it. From the man’s perspective, to see the world as twisted and corrupt is troubling and discouraging; but, to see oneself as twisted and corrupt, this is unacceptable. He laments, “Something must be done!” This bad news is what makes the Good News of salvation so appealing. Jesus, the God Man, is the only person or thing that offers what we need. No other religious figure claimed to be without sin, and offered himself for the debt. No other religious figure literally resurrected from the dead in accordance with historical records. No other religion provides a thorough cleansing as a free and unearned gift.

When a man sees the corruption in his own heart, he needs no other proof that something has gone wrong. He sees himself as he knows he ought not be – as he want not be. The foul condition suggests a deviation from a proper condition – and only one Man offers a realistic restoration. When a person comes to this realization, Jesus is standing – waiting for the invitation to come in and do the deadly work – to crucify the heart. Only then will the painful process of regeneration begin. Although it is done for us (we don’t lift a finger,) it is frightening. It is so painful, I find myself praying, “God be gentle,” but the desire to be free from the filth is cause for the deeper petition, “but be thorough.”

1. Jesus is powerful and unrelenting when he calls someone. In John 12:32 he says he draws men to himself. One friend of mine who is an accomplished scholar told me the Greek word used for “draw” in that verse could also be translated “drag.”

2. Lewis, C. S. (1980). Mere Christianity.

3. Tozer, A. W. (1982). The pursuit of God. pp 29 & 43.

Strength Concealed by Weakness

Divine humility is a term created by C. S. Lewis when he could find no other words to express his experience with a God so massive, so powerful, yet who approaches humanity with modesty and gentleness. Allow me to juxtapose these two qualities: God opened his mouth and spoke the universe into existence. We don’t yet know the full size because we have never seen the end of it. So what we can see is what astronomers call the “Observable Universe.” The observable universe is so massive there’s nothing in our language that can summon the proper perspective, so we’ll deal with our galaxy, the Milky Way.

This image is an artist's rendering of our galaxy. It consists of more than 200 billion stars; and by conservative estimates our galaxy is about 100,000 light years in diameter. Let’s unpack this: Light travels more than 185,000 miles every second. A light year is the distance it would take an object to travel at light-speed for a whole year. So, if a person were to travel at 185,000 miles per second for 100,000 years, they might be able traverse the length of our galaxy. Okay, perhaps that’s a bit too long for us. Our galaxy is disk shaped, like Frisbee, so we might choose instead to pass through the width – that would only take 1,000 light years. In fact, if we were to scale our galaxy down to the size of one hundred miles in diameter, our solar system would be less than one millimeter in size.

In case this galaxy is too small for you to stretch your limbs, God has prepared extra space for us beyond our galaxy. In fact, astronomers confirm there are more than 80 billion other galaxies in the observable universe – this is just what we can see. And, that is not stars we’re dealing with mind you, but galaxies. The number of stars in the observable universe is uncountable, but astronomers estimate somewhere between 30 and 70 sextillion. That is 10 followed by 51 zeros times 45. According to Isaiah 40:26, God has a name for each one and calls them out by ranks.

The universe is only one example we can use to behold God’s greatness. We could have gone the other direction into, say, DNA and the billions of characters of organized code in only one strand. Suffice it to say, God is unfathomably awesome.

If we left our understanding of God at this, we couldn’t possibly find anything modest or meek about him. But Lewis experienced another side of God that leaves us breathless. By virtue of this unfathomable greatness, God is the one and only being that need not bother with anything or anyone. He has no need of anything. He is justified to do away with any creation that would dare to ignore or dismiss him. He is Mighty with a capital “M” and deserves all honor and respect. But this isn’t how he does business, and that is where the “Divine humility” comes in. He endures our insults and dismissals. As Lewis (1940) put it,

… it is a poor thing to strike our colours to God when the ship is going down under us; a poor thing to come to Him as a last resort, to offer up ‘our own’ when it is no longer worth keeping. If God were proud He would hardly have us on such terms: but He is not proud, He stoops to conquer, He will have us even though we have shown that we prefer everything else to Him, and come to Him because there is ‘nothing better’ now to be had. … It is hardly complimentary to God that we should choose Him as an alternative to Hell: yet even this he accepts. (p. 95-96)

What is it about God that motivates him to take such a humble approach toward us? This divine yet humble nature seems paradoxical, but it is very true to the Biblical concept of God’s character. John Milton must have had this Divine humility in mind when, in his Epic, Paradise Lost, he postulated the reason Satan had the audacity to strike a rebellion against the King of kings. Satan says, “but still [God’s] strength concealed/ Which tempted our attempt, and wrought our fall” (1.641-42). In other words, Satan miscalculated the strength of God because of His Divine humility, and felt it was possible to usurp the throne.

Perhaps this is why God hates arrogance – it is so unlike Himself. The Bible is clear God aims to make us more like Him. Thus we find ourselves encouraged to place ourselves last, sit in the lesser seat, be the servant, and consider others more significant than ourselves. I’m not saying he wants us to be self-defacing; but a healthy dose of self-forgetfulness would do us all good. For those of us who don’t get this, who persistently kick against the goads, God has, in His grace, provided a thorn. He would have us be great like Him, but the path to that greatness is through a weakness. This is why God afflicted Saint Paul with a "messenger of Satan to torment him" (2 Cor. 12:7), and why he chooses the “foolish in the world to shame the wise” and “what is weak in the world to shame the strong” (1 Cor. 1:27).

The man C. S. Lewis (1954) himself is a profound modern-day example. This man is arguably the most influential Christian writer of the twentieth century. He propped up the failing hearts of the Englishmen while their island was bombed in World War II, he wrote potent and effective books on Christian apologetics, he cleverly countered atheistic attacks on Christian faith, he produced insightful allegories in his series The Chronicles of Narnia, among other fiction, and he wrote numerous academic essays. Almost fifty years after his death he is probably the most-quoted Christian author, period.

But his impact on the Church was a result of a physical handicap. He was born with only a single joint in both thumbs, limiting his ability to work with his hands. This was cause for serious dismay and disappointment because he “longed to make things, ships, houses, engines” (p. 10). After repeated effort at creating and building, he admits turning from his “failures” in tears. It was “As a last resort ... I was driven to write stories instead” (p. 10, emphasis mine).

What path would his life have taken if God had given him normal joints like everyone else? The world would have lost out on his writing and reasoning and encouragement. Lewis displayed the wonder and wisdom of God in his writings. No doubt he prayed as a child for an operating pair of opposable thumbs! But God denied him this gift, and as a result he was driven to write! What he first saw as an affliction, and a serious weakness, God used for his greatest strength. This made Lewis' life a great example of what Jesus teaches: “My power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Cor. 12:9).

Let this be a reminder for you and me, that when failure is lodged in our path, when we find our abilities severely limited and wanting, it just may be those very weaknesses that God will use to display His might and glory through us. For God wields great and awesome power, but he conceals it with weakness. How much more would He have his children be that way as well?

References:

Lewis, C. S. (1940). The problem of pain. New York: HarperCollins.

Lewis, C. S. (1955). Surprised by joy. Orlando, FL: Harcourt

Milton, J. (2000). Paradise Lost. London: Penguin

The Reed and the Oak

There is a Jewish parable that dates back to the first century called the Reed and the Oak. In this parable, a thin reed and a giant oak tree grew up along side each other near a river.

Throughout their life span they each encountered the same weather conditions – but each responded differently to the same types of weather. As wind picked up and blew, the reed would bend and sway in response to the wind; but the oak remained erect and upright because of its great strength and deep roots.

During the course of time a great and horrible storm came upon the land. The gale-force winds were so strong, and the oak so resistant to its influence, that it was uprooted and blown over. The reed, however, survived because it bent down low to the ground, compromising its upright posture. Yet, because the reed was willing to go very low it survived. And because the oak would not budge, it was blown over. Dr. Moseley explained the moral of the parable: “There was nothing wish-washy or compromising about the oak. The reed on the other hand, would bend to the right or left, even with a slight breeze” (p. 23).

You see, the oak lost its life by refusing to compromise, but the reed could only save itself by continually bending to the will of the wind. First century Jews likely knew this parable well. Knowing it ourselves, we get a better understand of what Jesus meant when he said this about John the Baptizer: “What did you go out into the wilderness to see? A Reed shaken by the wind?” (Matt. 11:7) the implied answer is “No! an oak!”

Jesus said this right after John sent a message to him from prison. By disassociating John with the reed, Jesus was comparing John to the oak in the parable. This statement was a tacit prediction of John’s upcoming death. John was strong, uncompromising with his faith, and his roots went deep. Therefore, when the horrible storm came, he would not bend as a reed, and as a result he would lose his life.

The lesson we take away from this is repeated elsewhere by Jesus in different words. If you are to be righteous, if you are to be a follower of Jesus, you must be prepared to lay down your life for the cause, because in many ways, that path requires us to be uncompromising to the world and its influences.

The idea is this: it is better to be an oak and lose one’s life, than to be a weak, and bending reed, and save it.

Reference:

Dr. Moseley, Ron. Yeshua; A Guide to the Real Jesus and the Original Church. Baltimore, MD: Lederer, 1996.

Some Reasoning for Only One Way

One of the most common objections to our faith is the exclusiveness of Jesus. Skeptics will ask, “How can God be fair, making Jesus the only way to the Kingdom, when millions of people have lived and died without ever hearing of him?”

Without ever looking deep enough, people often reject Jesus as the only way to God, preferring to accept a pantheistic approach (many roads, one destination), because it seems more agreeable to them. They will call you closed minded and write you off as a shallow thinker. Be assured, however, there is good and diverse rationale, (that doesn’t nullify God’s justice) to the exclusivity of Jesus.

First none of us deserve to be saved. Humanity is broken and fallen. We have each rejected God and he would be fair and just in leaving us to our own vices. When we adjust our perspective this way, we understand there is tremendous grace in the fact that there is even one way back to him. It is a very ugly thing to be a criminal, and when offered an opportunity for acquittal, to sniff at it and respond, “This can’t be the only way.”

But why offer some people a chance to God and not others? If we ask this question we are limiting God – how can we know this is the case just because some people die without ever (allegedly) hearing the name of Jesus? God’s message of salvation is not limited to the single vehicle of human evangelism, (although he has made it clear it is to be the primary platform for the Good News). Jesus broke through directly to Saint Paul whose salvation came as a result from his message (Gal. 1:12). There are other places in the Bible where God spoke directly to Jews and pagans through visions, dreams, and even angels. Examples are Abimelech, Pharaoh and Balaam, not to mention the prophets. This is called the Universal Opportunity view. It rightly holds that God can save who he wants, when he wants, with or without our help. I’ve heard it put it this way: “The only thing that can thwart the desire of the omnipotent Creator to save all people, is their own unwillingness to be saved” (Boyd & Eddy 183). And I would even add that God could break through our unwillingness if he so desired. Jesus makes it clear that God chooses us and draws us to him – we don’t choose him (John 12:32, 15:16, Rom. 9:16).

Even if some people never get a chance to hear the salvation message we cannot call an all-knowing God unjust. Wouldn’t our God know if someone would respond to a message if they heard it? C. S. Lewis profoundly wrote, “I believe that if a million chances were likely to do good, they would be given … Finality must come some time, and it does not require a very robust faith to believe that omniscience knows when” (126). Those who would not respond to God remain in objection to him, whether they have had a million chances or zero – they remain who they are. The peculiar thing about those who are perishing is not their ignorance of God, but their ability to block him out of their lives. This is why Lewis said he believes “the damned are, in one sense, successful rebels to the end; that the doors of hell are locked on the inside” (130).

Another position is the Inclusivist View, which claims that Jesus is ontologically necessary for salvation, but not epistemologically necessary, (that is, Jesus is the only savior of humanity, but it is possible to attain salvation without explicit knowledge of him. It could mean people will be judged by how they respond to the limited truth they have, not the information they don’t have). This would account for all the people before Christ came, infant deaths, and people with mental disabilities. We see biblical support for this where Jesus welcomes those into the kingdom who did not recall, feeding him visiting him in prison, etc. (Matt. 25:36-40). Paul also wrote, “… we have our hope set on the living God, who is the savior of all people, especially those who believe” (1 Tim. 4:10). This implies God can save some of those who did not have a chance to believe.

For this reason, it would not surprise me to find some people in heaven who, although never heard Jesus’ name on earth, are perplexed to find they got there by the cover of his blood, without knowing the blood was at work in their life. This very thing happens in Lewis’s allegory called, The Last Battle. One of the antagonists, who worshiped what he thought was the True God, found himself in the afterlife confronted by the One True God. Shaken to find he was worshiping the wrong god all along, the man fell at the feet of the Glorious One and this scene unfolded:

[The man thought,] Surly this is the hour of death, for [The True God] will know that I served [the wrong god] all my days and not him. Nevertheless, it is better to see [The True God] and die, than to be [ruler] of the world and live and not to have seen Him.’ But The Glorious One bent down … and said, Son, thou art welcome. But I said, Alas, Lord, I am no son of thine but the servant of [the wrong god]. He answered, Child, all the service thou has done to [him], I account as service done to me (517).

I left out much of the context of this allegory for the sake of brevity, but the point being made here is, God knows the hearts of men and he saves whomever he pleases (Romans 9). (This doesn’t relieve us the obligation to evangelize, for (a) we have been commanded to do it, and (b) it is better for communities to live knowing Jesus, than live without knowing him.) Thus, it is offensive for us, as mere people, to be presumptuous enough to questions God’s methods of salvation. Anyone questioning Jesus as the only Way is likely not asking with purely philanthropic motives. Dr. David Stern astutely acknowledged that people “often raise the issue not out of concern for the ‘pitiful lost heathen’ but as a dodge to justify their own unbelief; the very form of the question assumes that God is unjust, and not worthy of their trust, that the ‘primitive tribesman’ is an innocent ‘noble savage’ and God the guilty party” (335). As we know, all men, (primitive or sophisticated) are not innocent, and God cannot be guilty.

This type of objection is likely the result of a straw man the unbeliever has set up, only to knock down. They don’t have the intent to take an objective look at the claims of Jesus in the first place. Those who may have some genuine concern for the un-evangelized must first decide how they will respond to the grace being offered to them, and let God worry about those who have not yet had the privilege of the message. You can be sure God is a better caregiver than they, and he has more concern for the un-evangelized than any other person. Once the skeptic has a life changing conversion, God may very well use him or her to reach those who haven’t yet heard the Good News.

References:

- Boyd, Gregory and Eddy, Paul: Across the Spectrum; Understanding the Issues in Evangelical Theology

- Lewis, C. S.: "The Last Battle" in The Chronicles of Narnia

- Lewis, C. S.: The Problem of Pain

- Stern, David: Jewish New Testament Commentary