No Hell for Rob Bell?

She asked the question, softly: “What about my mother?”
Then she began to cry.
She had tried hard not to; her Chinese culture had not encouraged a public display of very personal emotions.

But her heart was too full, her feelings too charged.

Ming was in the U.S. for a year as a visiting scholar.  As an English professor, she had received a leave from her university to make a special study of the connections between the Bible and Western literature.  Shortly before her coming, Ming had been baptized as a new Christian believer.  She had much to learn about the faith, and she was eagerly making the most of it.
She learned about heaven, and it had thrilled her soul. A peace past understanding had always been her deep hope.  An unfailing goodness was her heart’s longing.  Heaven promised that and much more.

But she learned about hell too.  She was told that without faith in Jesus, one would be doomed to spend eternity in hell.  And that shook her to the roots.
Ming had lost her mother not long before she came to the U.S.  Her parents’ only child, Ming had been very close and very fond of her mother.  Very protective too, for she knew of her father’s mistreatment.  Her mother had been longsuffering in a loveless marriage.  She had been kind, gentle, loving, peaceful, faithful.  She had little reason for joy in her life, but her goodness to her husband, to her daughter, and to others had been a genuine dimension of her character.  She was everything that Ming held in high esteem, that she treasured, that she loved with all her heart. She was still in mourning when I first met her.

Now, as a Christian, she was deeply troubled.

A Christian friend had told her that her mother would not be in heaven.

As a Buddhist, her mother had never been introduced to Jesus Christ; her sins had not been forgiven.

Ming had received the verdict as a sword-thrust into her heart.
She had often wept during sleepless nights.
She felt that she would never be able to put that vision of her dear mother in hell behind her, that she could never be at peace about it. 

Hence the agonizing question: “What about my mother?”

There was a time of silence between us.
I felt the depth of her anguish.

I felt the need for reflection, for weighing the words she was waiting for.

And I was keenly aware of my constitutional aversion to reach behind the mystery of the hereafter.

At last I tried.

“Ming, what happens to us after our physical death I think we should leave to God.  I don’t think God expects us to make final judgments about a person’s eternal destiny. That is God’s domain.
But I know that God is merciful and loving; that he gave his only Son to prove it.
And I know that Jesus loved the sinner, even the sinners who crucified him.

If he loved even those, would he not love your mother?

And didn’t he teach us that blessed are the poor in spirit; that blessed are the meek; that blessed are the merciful; that blessed are the pure in heart; that blessed are the peacemakers?

When you read the Sermon on the Mount, think of your mother.  And then trust Jesus with all your heart that his Father will deal rightly with all he has made, in life and in death. Trust his mercy, and his immeasurable love.

And be at peace.”

I think that is what Rob Bell is saying too, in his latest book.

Not that there is no hell; we can all think of fiends who belong there.
It’s much harder for us to think of non-Christian saints in Satan’s home.

Ming has been back in China for a year now.
She’s still struggling at times with an absent mother in her life, but even more with thoughts of her mother in hell.

Still, there is more peace too as she is learning to say, “Your will be done,” with the faith that, though we cannot know God’s will, God’s will is perfect.