Life and Logic: A Framework for Eternal Judgment

Introduction

I am eager to complete our journey in this Oracles of God study,¹ but I trust the Lord’s providential timing in all matters. I’m aware that the original writer of Hebrews—the original teacher of these Oracles—had the expressed desire to press on past the elementary principles. That, he also noted, was a matter of God’s timing. He said, in essence, This we will do, if God permits.

At GraceLife, we have taken our time in these topics as a matter of spiritual discipline and eager learning, not (as in the case of the Hebrews audience) as a matter of spiritual dullness.

And although I wish we were two weeks further down the road in these topics, I submit this preaching schedule to the same sensitivity I’ve asked my audience to take up in considering this topic. Our success in studying eternal judgment will not be measured by major events lining up according to our understanding of the timeline; our success will be measured by our obedience in the meantime: How well do we eagerly await our returning Savior?

That wait is not one in which we ignore the world around us, nor is it one in which we try to force circumstances to line up with what we think the timing ought to be. Eager awaiting means that we long for the day in which all will be made right, and therefore we acknowledge—in a world in which things need to be made right—that we are surrounded by present and ongoing wrongs, setbacks, frustrations.

Eager awaiting means that we embrace the power to live righteously in the present evil age.

Eager awaiting means that we embrace the power to live righteously in the present evil age and embrace the hope that any and all frustrations can work to our advantage. Why? Because judgment is coming. It is eternal judgment—and that means it’s not subject to a schedule. It’s not subject to being undone. And it’s judged by One who sees all aspects of time.

2 Contrasting Hospital Trips

In the past few weeks, I saw the hospital twice: once in the capacity of clergy member, visiting the sick, and once in the capacity of father, trying to get his sick children admitted; once in a critical care unit for a person in her 90s at the end of life, and once in the emergency room for children not yet five years old; once for someone at the end of life, and once for a group of children who are, in some ways, just beginning life.

These types of moments, which we all must encounter at some point, are opportunities for us to reflect upon what we believe, what we hope for, and what is reality—and the extent to which all those things line up.

What we believe about the present should line up with reality. The extent to which what we believe about the present doesn’t line up with reality demands we alter our beliefs. What we hope for might not line up with reality; what do we do then? Do we alter our hopes? Maybe—unless our hope is founded in a future reality that is greater than the present.

All of these things are matters of worldview, and we do well to assess them. As Christians, we assess them with the help of Scripture.

Back to the hospital visits: For the person in her mid-90s, struggling to hold on to life, comfort, and wellness, the consensus of thought by those who surrounded her—whether doctors or family visitors—was this: Death is bad … but it’s time. The family was ready to entrust this life to the faithful Creator. I found my own prayer to be, “Father, take this person to Yourself.”

The time in the children’s emergency room was different. My children were fine, but what I heard at least three times in that several-hours span was “inbound flight, trauma level 1.” I didn’t know that child, but I knew enough that my prayer was different then: “Father, I don’t know this child, but let him live.”

My prayer for my own children were somewhere in the middle: “Let them find a vein; help them understand what’s happening; help us to move through this process quickly.”

Why the difference in thought? My attitude and prayer in those varying moments had to do with how I feel about sickness and death. My prayer had to do with what I thought should and shouldn’t be, and with the judgments I’ve made about who has the power to fix things.

Why should I appeal to God to call life back to Himself? Why should I appeal to God to sustain life on earth? Why should I appeal to God for wise human intervention to solve the relatively minor but escalating sickness in front of me? What will be my personal response to suffering in life?

There’s another aspect of that experience that caused me to assess how I think about eternal things.² When you’re staying at the hospital for some reason, at some point during your stay (and it doesn’t take very long), you ask the question: “What will it take to get out of here?”

Getting out means no more needles. No more tests. No more nights sleeping on that sticky vinyl guest couch. No more incessant beeping and blinding lights at all hours.

And in that moment of asking that question, you wrestle with competing desires of what’s real, what you believe to be real, and what you hope for. I’d like to leave the hospital, but I’d like to leave when—and only when—it’s actually true that the danger has passed and everything’s okay.

Let me give you an example. I’ll spare you all the details of the GI issues that were going on at the time, but one struggle was that our kids were dealing with numbers that were all over the place. One of those numbers was low blood sugar. It was sometime past midnight, and the medical professional was about to switch shifts. I see him looking at his watch. He says, “Well, maybe if your kids will eat this Oreo and drink this sugar drink, you can go home.”

Now, I’m not a doctor, but there was something about thinking, “Well, my key to health and wellness is eating this Oreo. Thank you, Nabisco!”

You see, we begin to think in that moment, “Either this will make you well, or it won’t.” “This is a sign of wellness or it’s not.”

I would love it, if it were actually true, if eating Oreos was the ticket out of the hospital. (We stayed a little longer, by the way. We waited for the next shift to come in.)

There are things when it comes to eternal judgment that we might wish were real, but we have to consider those things carefully. We might wish, for example, that all will experience eternal bliss—with just a wave of a magic wand. We might wish that it were real that there’s no such thing as eternal condemnation, no such place as eternal hell. Just eat these Oreos, man, and it will be alright.

A Logical Framework

Let’s bring some logic into the equation. I think it’s helpful for you to think through a logical process when it comes to eternal judgment—helpful even for talking with those who don’t believe the same thing we Christians do about eternal judgment. We are of course looking from a Scriptural perspective, but these are the big life questions that everyone has to wrestle with. We should be engaging both believers and nonbelievers on them. (Hopefully, you’re living in such a way that nonbelievers in your life at some point ask you the reason for the hope you have. When they do, they will ask you hard questions like, “You actually believe in a heaven and a hell?” and “You actually believe in a good God who sends people there?”)

To help you think through this process, I’ve created a sheet, “Life and Logic: A Framework for Eternal Judgment,” which you can download below. It’s not comprehensive, and not everything here can be tidied up in neat deductions. Some will be tidy, but some will not—as in the first example we’ll look at; some leave us to wrestle with conclusions that don’t sit well in the soul.

Consider our first question—“Is there life after death?” (Yes or no?). If at the end of my logical exploration, I conclude that life is meaningless, or that relationships are merely biological, or love is just my body’s desire to have my genes survive, then I’m right to reassess my worldview and beliefs in light of my hopes (saying, “I hope the world’s not that way—maybe it’s not, but how would I begin to know?”).

Let’s walk through some of these issues regarding eternal judgment.

Question 1: Is There Life After Death?

As we weigh these heavy issues, we perhaps start feeling the angst of how we might answer. Hopefully a chart like the one I created (see download above) helps you at least have a starting point—that point being either yes or no. If you wanted a more comprehensive chart, you could put “maybe” between those two answers, but at the end of the day, the maybe becomes a yes or a no. Either there really is life after death or there’s not. Let’s consider what follows from those two options.

If there’s not life after death—let’s call that life the life of (John) Lennon. Or maybe we should call it the lie of Lennon. And I like his music as much as the next person, but think about these lyrics:

Imagine there’s no heaven
It’s easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us, only sky

Imagine all the people
Livin’ for today³

The logical conclusion of Lennon’s lyrics is correct: If there is no heaven above us and no hell below, then all the people are living for today, because that’s all there is.

What I’m doing in this sermon is more of a survey and big picture of eternal judgment; we’re not delving as deeply as we normally do into specific passages of Scripture. I’ll give you a taste here and there of how the Scripture assesses some of these things. You’re going to see Scriptures on the sheet (at the above download link) that I won’t cover in this sermon, but you can read them on your own. These verses are ways in which the Scripture either speaks to the answers about these questions or speaks to the human condition that says “Yeah, these are the right questions to ask.”

Isaiah 22 is the picture of what happens when those conclude that the judgment of God isn’t coming:

Therefore in that day the Lord, the God of armies,⁴ called you to weeping, to wailing,
To shaving the head and to wearing sackcloth.

Instead, there is gaiety and gladness,
There’s the killing of cattle and slaughtering of sheep,
Eating of meat and drinking of wine:
“Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we may die.” (Isaiah 22:12–13)

That passage is the one that Paul quotes in 1 Corinthians 15:32, where he says that if there’s no resurrection from the dead, “Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die.”

If that is true, how could I characterize life? How could I live life? The answer is that I’d live inconsequentially (that is, without consequence). So if you’re ever engaging someone who doesn’t believe in life after death, this is something to leave with them to wrestle with. You don’t have to go all the way down the chart; just leave them with that moment: OK, no life after death, do you live as if life has no consequence? And the extent to which you do or don’t, why isn’t your life logically lined up with this belief that there’s no life after death? (Why are you bothered by life without consequence?)

No life after death and no resurrection means one may live as one wishes. If there’s no life after death, then there’s no judgment to come. And if there’s no judgment to come, then there are certainly no rewards and no punishments. And if there are no rewards, there is no reason to do anything; likewise, if there are no punishments, there is a reason to do anything.

No life after death and no resurrection means one may live as one wishes. … If there are no rewards, there is no reason to do anything; likewise, if there are no punishments, there is a reason to do anything.

But what if there is life after death? What is the question that we need to ask then?⁵

Question 2: (If There Is Life After Death) Is There an Eternal Judgment to Face?

Let’s say the answer to this second question is no—i.e., there’s life after death but not judgment after death. Some, without thinking, might opt for such an existence, thinking that it’s perhaps better. But just as in our first scenario, whatever is true of the afterlife is significant in this life.

You can think of it as an equation: whatever happens on one side has its effect upon the other. If there is no judgment in the next life, the actions of this life, at best, leave us indifferent—Hey, I’m going to live and I’m going to die, and then I’m going to continue in some existence, but hey, whatever will be, will be. I’ll do well, and maybe it will matter, but … maybe it won’t.

Indifference is perhaps the best option if your answer is “no” to whether we’ll face judgment after death. But with this worldview comes this haunting insecurity. Because there is no guaranteed justice, there is no guaranteed happiness or betterment. There is no guarantee that whatever suffering occurs in this life won’t simply continue or worsen in the next life.

The prospect of life after death without judgment loses its appeal when you realize the indifference and insecurity that it renders for this life.

The prospect of life after death without judgment loses its appeal when you realize the indifference and insecurity that it renders for this life.

Is the world really such that, for example, the genocidal maniac can do his worst—take the lives of others, take his own life—and then march into the next life unscathed?

Although it’s a verse we often think of as heavy or weighed down with notes of doom, there is actually great comfort in Hebrews 9:27: “It is appointed unto man once to die once and then judgment.” Without this promise of judgment, we are left with lives of indifference and insecurity.

Let’s answer in the positive instead—yes, there’s life after death, and yes, there’s eternal judgment. What should the next question be?

Question 3: If There Is an Eternal Judgment After Death, Is the Judgment Individual?

If there’s judgment, the next logical question is whether it’s individuated or individual. Is there a differentiated judgment, or is it the same for everyone? Is this a group project? (I hated those!)

If we’re not judged as individuals, I’d argue that it will still be hard to escape a life of indifference or insecurity. What if I’m the one working really hard, and I’ve done all the right and good things, but I’m lumped in with this group of yahoos? What was all that about? How would I know what group I’m going to be judged in—how do I know what it really matters—if everyone just gets the same judgment? We still end up with a life of indifference or insecurity, because we’re worried whether our eternal destination or existence ends up being at the mercy of someone else.

What does Scripture say? First Corinthians 3:8 says:

Now he who plants and he who waters are one;⁶ but each will receive his own reward according to his own labor.⁷

This verse tells us that judgment is individual. It’s to the individual and it’s based on the work of the individual.

So if we can answer that question yes, there is individual eternal judgment after we die, then life can and should be lived not inconsequentially, not indifferently, not insecurely, but intentionally.

If … there is individual eternal judgment after we die, then life can and should be lived not inconsequentially, not indifferently, not insecurely, but intentionally.

In this workflow (on the sheet), there are certain presuppositions in areas that we’ve already covered or that we’re going to count as givens based on our Scriptural or theological commitments. A chief presupposition is that there is a Righteous Judge.⁸

Once you’ve committed to the fact that there is a possibility and reasonable expectation that life can be lived intentionally, everything below this on the chart I provided begins to spell out what eternal judgment looks like. These are the big categories, the obvious questions, that I hope help guide our thoughts.

These are simple yes/no questions. If your first question about eternal judgment and the events that surround it is, “What is the identity of the third crown on the ninth horn of the sixth head of the beast from the seas who stands in front of the dragon,” you might want to find someone else to teach you those things. I’m not saying they’re not important, or that I won’t cover some of those types of questions, but they’re not within the scope of what we are going to look at in this Eternal Judgment sermon subseries, and they’re certainly not the starting place.

This brings us to our fourth question. We’ve said there’s life after death, there’s eternal judgment after death, and that judgment is individual, so yes, I can live intentionally. Now …

Question 4: Is the Judgment Positive or Negative?

There are two possibilities for eternal judgment that we need to entertain: the judgment is to our favor, or the judgment goes against us; it’s going to work out well for me, or it’s not going to work out well for me; positive or negative; bliss or condemnation.

There are some variations on those options that we could add to our chart—for example, “some bliss + some condemnation.” But when we get to this question, we have to start narrowing the options a bit by what Scripture says.

In the coming sermons, we’ll talk more about the negative judgments—the concepts of hell and the lake of fire, and why a good God would send anyone there. We’ll also talk about the positive judgments—what heaven is like, and whether there are judgments beyond that. This brings us to our fifth question.

Question 5: Are There Degrees of Judgment?

In the chart I provided, I think a good answer for the question of whether there are degrees of judgment in terms of eternal condemnation is—don’t find out for yourself! I’ll talk more about the possibility of degrees of judgment and eternal bliss. In particular, what does Scripture say about rewards? And how should we live in light of them? When, where, and why do they get handed out?

We’re asking the question essentially, How much does intentional living matter, in the end?

We’re asking the question essentially, How much does intentional living matter, in the end?

On the chart, you’ll see a bracket on the side with the words “Scriptural explanation” beside it. That’s to indicate the question of how does what I believe about all these things line up with Scripture? If there are not degrees of judgment, we’d have to see rewards downplayed in Scripture; if there are, we would expect to see rewards emphasized in Scripture—and we should expect to live accordingly.

As we move forward in this study, we’ll fill in more than is on this sheet. We’ll look at specific judgments:

The judgment seat of Christ
The sheep and the goats
Fallen angels
Great White Throne judgment

We’ll also look at the timing of judgment (millennial observations). We’ll probably unavoidably look at the role of Israel in judgment as well.

Part of why I’m giving you this chart is to see some of the logic of the biggest aspects of eternal judgment. But I also want you to see how it all works together, and how these matters of eternity are matters of the mind and heart. I want you to see how ordered thinking (Is it this, yes or no? What about this—yes or no?) reveals and challenge our beliefs and our hopes, and forces us to face realities. I hope life has meaning, I hope life has purpose, I hope there is consequence; I don’t think life is inconsequential, and I don’t want to live insecurely or indifferently. And I think the Scriptural picture we’ll explore makes the most sense of what we see in life and begins to explain why it is we hope for the things we don’t see—the things of the life to come.

Conclusion

In closing, return to the hospital scenes. I told you of the differences between the scenarios; now let me tell you how they were the same.

From the lips of the child and from the lips of the aged came the same phrase: “I want to go home.”

The suffering of this world is a painful reminder that we are not home. It forces the question: Where is home? Where shall we reside forever and never again have the desire to go home—because we are there?

In Grace Life University, which has been meeting on Wednesday evenings, we’ve been studying C.S. Lewis’s book The Great Divorce. We learned that was the publisher’s title for the book. Lewis’s own proposed title for the book was Who Goes Home? Both titles were good. There is an either/or. One title tells us of the logic of the next life—there is a great divorce between heaven and hell; there is an either/or, a yes or no. But in that question “Who goes home?” we’re forced to consider our longing for home. Why do we want to go there? Why does it seem that we are not there now? And is there explanatory power in the Scriptures to satisfy the matters of both the mind and the heart?

These are the matters of eternal judgment. These are the matters of the Oracles of God.

We began in decision: Will you repent of dead works and have faith toward God?

We moved to discipleship: Will you bury your life to Christ and participate in the actions of His church?

We end in destiny: resurrection from the dead and eternal judgment.

In the plan of God’s great redemption, our decisions and our discipleship will determine our destiny.

I close with this passage:

Now may our Lord Jesus Christ Himself and God our Father, who has loved us and given us eternal comfort and good hope by grace, comfort and strengthen your hearts in every good work and word. (2 Thessalonians 2:16–17)

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