“Dead means dead.” Or does it?

I haven’t been writing as much as I would usually want, but heck, we’re confined to our homes now, so might as well.

Recently, I was dragged into a conversation with a couple of lay Calvinists who basically just repeated several bumper sticker arguments that many Calvinists use but had no interest in digging into verses more deeply.  When I suggested that we pick a passage to focus on, one of them reacted with anger and proclaimed that all 31,000 verses of Scripture agree with him and that we’re NOT supposed to look more deeply into a single passage because we’re supposed to read them all with a Calvinist lens.  He then proceeded to accuse me of trying to steal God’s glory, for being disingenuous, and for being borderline heretical.  Well then.

One of the main arguments he used for his certainty (that the other Calvinist actually did not fully agree with ) was the common one that “dead means dead.”  In other words, when the Bible calls us spiritually dead, we are, quite literally, dead.  A spiritual corpse.  And there’s no benefit in trying to persuade a corpse or get it to respond because it’s, well, a corpse.  Thus, what is required is full regeneration before faith because a dead thing can’t respond with faith to begin with (this is essentially the doctrine of Total Depravity).  He claimed that this was beautifully taught in the Bible by the resurrection of Lazarus: Lazarus was dead as a doornail so Jesus didn’t exactly go ask him if he wanted to be raised.  Jesus just did it.  Similarly, God just regenerates people and is not looking for any sort of response of faith.

Now more careful Calvinists (including his partner) get a little squeamish about using the story of Lazarus because it does not appear to make such a soteriological point, but it’s use is actually not uncommon among even Calvinist pastors, nor is the mantra “dead means dead.”  So it is worth asking: What exactly does “spiritual death” mean?  Did Paul intend to use that phrase to state that we are like corpses?  And why is the story of Lazarus even relevant?

Now before I continue, I should put this disclaimer once again for any angry Calvinist (like the one mentioned above) who might get his pants twisted up: I do not question any Calvinist’s salvation (unless he is a hyper), and there are many Calvinist pastors and scholars that I respect and I have Calvinist friends.  We just disagree here.  Chill.  Nobody is insulting your mother.

All other ground is shifting sand

Back in 2006, I was a young college student who was relatively fit for his age (I was very skinny but could handle my body weight well and play multiple sports).  Then I started to experience a few episodes of what is called spontaneous pneumothorax, the spontaneous collapse of the lung.  In a nutshell, what happens is that air leaks out of the lung into the chest cavity, and the resulting air pressure compresses the lung.  Symptoms include chest pain, shortness of breath, and coughing.  I went from being able to run five miles at Town Lake (now Lady Bird Lake) in Austin to not being able to walk to the bus stop.  There is no known cause, but the condition is most prevalent in young, active, skinny, and tall young men.  I was everything but tall.  Fast forward a year later, one of the collapses was so severe that it turned into a tension pneumothorax, which is a medical emergency.  I had to go to the hospital and get surgery.  Because I did not have insurance, I was also saddled with thousands of dollars worth of medical bills, which I would struggle to pay off until… my next lung surgery when it all happened again five years later.

I learned pretty quickly how easily things like health and financial security can be taken from you, even if it is through no fault of your own.  I spent several months initially being angry at God for allowing this to happen to one of his servants who didn’t do bad things to his health like smoke or get drunk (I admit I ate a lot of ice cream though, because ice cream is awesome).  However, as I pondered over my faith throughout that time, I realized my first response was prideful and entitled, and I came to be thankful for this fact: “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever” (Hebrews 13:8).  In an uncertain world, Jesus is the rock that stands the test of time.

Our generation has never seen anything quite like this coronavirus outbreak that has led governments around the world to suggest or enforce quarantine, social distancing, curfews, and a minimum number for gatherings.  It’s like a movie come to life (particularly an eerily accurate one like Contagion).  The virus has been known for several months, but strict measures in the West weren’t put into place until relatively recently.  In quick succession, we saw leagues like the NBA and NHL suspend their season, the NCAA cancel all spring sports, companies tell their employees to work from home if possible, schools extending spring break and moving as much as they can online, and the closing down of restaurants, coffee shops, and other businesses.  Life certainly changed pretty drastically over a short period of time; heck, just a couple of weeks ago, I finished an 8-week pre-marital program at a large church that had about 200 people a week meet in a large room, something that surely would have been cancelled now.

There is a lot of uncertainty, and uncertainty often leads to fear.  Much of that fear is understandable because we’re dealing with something that we do not have experience with, and there are many people wondering when they can go back to work and make ends meet or if they’re going to be the next person infected and perhaps have serious symptoms.  If anything, this has shown how powerless we often are; all the technology and government power in the world couldn’t stop this virus from spreading initially, and in all likelihood, it will never fully go away and we’ll have to adapt our lives to a new reality.

Sometimes it is when this illusion of control is pierced that we become more cognizant of our need for a power greater than us.  We have no guarantees for even our best laid plans, so what is there to turn to?  According to the gospel, we can turn to God’s promises through Jesus Christ.  Salvation?  Secured.  Eternal life?  Guaranteed.  Contentment and internal peace if one walks with God?  Promised.  And God put his signature on those promises in the resurrection.

It is in times like this that I am thankful for that promise.  Christians may be as uncertain and confused as anyone else when it comes to the specifics of events like this, but we do not share that uncertainty when it comes to God’s overall promises and plan.  We know that Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.  We know that Jesus will still be Lord, even when wild or even terrible things happen.  And we know that he will come again someday.

This is the hope that we should share, a hope that is not contingent upon what new and crazy thing that is happening in the world.  I don’t know how things will turn out and how things will look in a few months.  I don’t know if I’ll get to watch the NBA Finals, if my wedding will have to be canceled, if I or a loved one will contract the virus, or if the world will return to a sense of normalcy anytime soon.  I also do not know (nor really care at the moment) who will be elected president this fall.  But I take joy and solace in the promises of God.  All other ground is shifting sand.