Objecting to God's Invitation?

"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life." 

Here, in John 3:16, we see an open invitation. God loves and God gives, and the gift, says John, can be for whoever. This is no reluctant invitation just to keep a grumpy aunt happy. Here is a genuine invitation for any and for all, including you.

Several objections come to mind at the idea of God’s invitation being for anyone. Here are just a few.

Objection 1: ‘But I’ve messed things up too badly!’

In 2017, the former US President Donald Trump announced on Twitter: ‘Going to the White House is considered a great honour for a championship team. Stephen Curry is hesitating; therefore, invitation is withdrawn!’ The Golden State Warriors had won the US National Basketball Association (NBA) championship, which, traditionally, led to an invitation to the White House to meet the President. Some of the players, including Stephen Curry, were unsure whether they should accept, given that they disagreed with some of Donald Trump’s policies. The invitation was withdrawn. The crime of disrespecting the President was, apparently, unforgivable.

We may think that we’ve done things that would result in God justly revoking his invitation. The weight of guilt from former mistakes can leave us struggling to forgive ourselves. The idea that God could forgive us seems too much.

I love the story of the thief on the cross. As Jesus is being crucified, one of the criminals next to him begins to hurl insults. The other rebukes him: ‘Don’t you fear God?’ And then he turns to Jesus and says, ‘Will you remember me when you come into your kingdom?’ (Luke 23:40, 42). In our English versions of the Bible, we read that this man was a criminal or a thief. Many experts think the translation is probably not quite accurate. The Romans generally didn’t crucify common criminals or thieves. Crucifixion was the most degrading punishment they had, reserved for the very worst – for rebels or insurrectionists, criminals who had attempted to lead an uprising against the might of Rome. They had to be publicly executed in the most awful, degrading, shameful way possible, as a deterrent to others. So the men crucified next to Jesus were probably not thieves. Today, we might be more likely to call them something far worse – terrorists. The terrorist turns to Jesus and asks, could someone like you forgive someone like me? I think the first readers of these accounts would have expected rejection or rebuke from the lips of Jesus. Yet Jesus replies, ‘Today you will be with me in paradise’ (Luke 23:43). If I’m honest, I’m not sure whether to be amazed at Jesus’ powers of forgiveness or offended that these kinds of people seem to be able to get themselves off the hook simply by asking. Is it right or fair? Don’t they deserve to be punished for their crimes? How can Jesus simply forgive?

Following the Second World War, Nazi war criminals were sent to Nuremberg to stand trial. They included some of Hitler’s closest associates: Hermann Göring, Rudolf Hess and Joachim von Ribbentrop. The US sent two of their own military chaplains, Henry Gerecke and Richard ‘Sixtus’ O’Connor to offer pastoral care. Understandably, this was not an easy or lightly taken assignment.  Gerecke and O’Connor arrived in November 1945. They conducted simple services and spoke with the prisoners. Some were open and interested, while others were hardened and refused to talk. It was eleven months later that the trials were completed and the verdicts given. Gerecke visited those condemned to die on the eve of their execution.

Göring was unrepentant, saying, ‘I’ll take my chances, my own way.’ Later that evening, he took his own life with a cyanide capsule. Gerecke was able to speak and pray with others, many of whom had softened to him and his message in the preceding year. The next morning Joachim von Ribbentrop was first to be taken to the gallows. He’d been convicted as being instrumental in starting the war and planning early invasions in Czechoslovakia and Poland. He’d also been adjudged to have been deeply involved in the Holocaust. During his months in prison, he’d become increasingly interested in Gerecke’s message, talking with Gerecke and attending services. As von Ribbentrop was led to the gallows, and the noose was placed around his neck, a US officer asked him for any final words. He replied, ‘I place all my confidence in the Lamb who made atonement for my sins. May God have mercy on my soul.’ He then turned to Gerecke and said, ‘I’ll see you again.’ A hood was then pulled over his head, and the trap door opened.

Can God’s gift of forgiveness really be for such a person? This is truly the test case of whether we understand the grace of God in Jesus’ death on the cross. If the story of von Ribbentrop offends you, then you haven’t yet understood God’s grace. At the cross, sin is not being ignored or remaining unpunished. It is, rather, the case that Jesus is bearing the full weight of punishment that sin deserves – even that due to the very worst of criminals. If Jesus can forgive the terrorist on the cross, and if God could forgive someone like von Ribbentrop, he can forgive you. It is impossible for you to have messed up to the degree where you are beyond God’s grace. Our sin, however bad, never revokes God’s invitation.

Objection 2: ‘But I’m not good enough! Why would God want me?’

A recent study published in the Lancet Psychiatry journal found that issues related to self-esteem, body image and social anxiety are rising sharply among the younger generation. In England, up to one in five women, aged between 16 and 24, had self-harmed as a way of dealing with mental and emotional distress. Self-harm across the sexes and age groups has risen dramatically in the past twenty years. One expert links these anxieties to ‘exam pressures, bullying using social media, and increasing concerns over body image’.

We might not consider ourselves too evil for God’s acceptance, but we might wonder if we’re good enough.

Would God really want to know us and relate to us?

When it comes to God, faith or church, we may struggle with what has been termed ‘imposter syndrome’: the fear of being exposed as a fraud. We may be able to put on a good face in front of others but fear that, in the presence of an all-knowing God, our inadequacies would be painfully exposed. In Roald Dahl’s classic story, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, a group of children and their parents are given a tour of Willy Wonka’s magical chocolate factory. Mr Wonka takes the children to see the nut room, in which a hundred squirrels are shelling walnuts. They tap each nut, discarding the bad. A spoiled child named Veruca Salt demands that her father buys her one of the squirrels. Mr Wonka replies that they are not for sale, at which point Veruca enters the nut room to attempt to take one for herself. As soon as she enters, the squirrels surround her, pin her down, and one begins tapping her head with his knuckles. At once, the squirrels pick her up and drag her towards the rubbish chute, as Mr Wonka exclaims, ‘My goodness, she is a bad nut after all . . . Her head must have sounded quite hollow.’

Perhaps that’s how you think God views you? Are you afraid that he might discard you as a bad nut, so to speak? But John says, ‘God so loved the world that he gave his only son, that whoever.’ Elsewhere Jesus said, ‘Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest’ (Matthew 11:28), and that ‘whoever comes to me I will never drive away’ (John 6:37).

It’s not ‘come to me’ if you are good enough or sorry enough, or if you’re prepared to try hard enough.

It’s not ‘some’ or ‘most’ who ‘come to me’.

It’s an invitation, a promise. Come – whoever – he will welcome you, and he will never drive you away from his presence.

Objection 3: ‘But I’ve never been religious or churchy.’

‘Fake it till you make it’ is the mantra.

I was 17, standing in the nightclub queue – heart pounding, mouth dry, stomach churning, clutching my fake ID – hoping to make it past the security guys on the door. I was sure they would see through the dodgy ID, see through me. I was 17 but looked 15.

How would I ever fake my way through?

Sometimes, people aren’t so much scared of God as scared of religion or church. They think that to have faith means behaving in certain religious ways in certain religious places or contexts. We can feel like imposters in unfamiliar environments, trying to ‘fake’ our way through. If you’ve never really attended church, it can be easy to reject God completely. After all, if faith requires me to attend boring services and hang out with boring, judgmental people, perhaps I’m better off without it?

A while ago, I wanted to do something to experience what it was like for an outsider to walk into a strange place. So I went to a betting shop. Now, I’d never set foot in a betting shop in my life. And this one had no windows to see into, and its door was covered with graphics. As I walked in, I could sense people staring.

I knew they knew that I didn’t belong.

And now what?

Where was I to turn?

Where was I to go?

What was I to do?

I went to the corner and found a slip, but it was utterly confusing. There were so many boxes to tick. At last, I worked it out and placed my 50p bet on the result of a football match. As I approached the counter, I could feel my heart racing. I handed the betting slip over to the spotty youth on the other side. He looked at me, knowing as well as everyone else that I was an imposter. He amended my slip because I’d managed to complete it incorrectly, and took my 50p. I stood there waiting to be dismissed. Eventually, I left the shop and couldn’t believe how stressful the experience had been. I think I actually won my bet but there was no way I was ever going back to find out.

Walking into a church building can seem like that for some.

It can be every bit as nerve-wracking as it was for me to walk into the betting shop.

I know of one guy who sat outside in his car, watching people coming in and out of church, for several Sundays before he felt brave enough to come through the door himself. I can understand that. I recently joined a running club. It was even more anxiety-inducing than I’d anticipated. I didn’t go along for ages. I followed their Facebook group, watched their meeting schedule and read the comments from a safe distance. Eventually, I plucked up the courage to join the other runners, and it was great. There was someone to lead the routes and set a pace that I could keep up with, and a group that liked talking about shoe cushioning and arch supports!

In the same way, while church can be daunting, there will always be people to help and encourage you if you are a first-timer, just as joining other runners encouraged me with my own running. Going to church isn’t what makes you a Christian, however. Sure, it will be helpful. It will also be something you’ll hopefully want to do if you decide to find out more. And it really isn’t all that scary. But we don’t accept God’s invitation by doing more religious things. The whoever invite doesn’t come with the qualification ‘whoever goes to church’. John doesn’t say, ‘God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever goes to church . . . ’ Ultimately, going to church doesn’t make you a Christian any more than standing in your garage makes you a car. Attending church won’t earn you God’s approval. But you will find that, as you begin a journey following Jesus, you will want to go to church, meet with other Christians, and learn more about God’s amazing grace and how to live for him.

Objection 4: ‘But I don’t think that I know or understand enough.’

Whenever I run discussion groups about exploring the Christian faith, this question regularly surfaces. Many people think that they can’t get involved or commit in any sense because there are still things they don’t understand or questions with which they’re still wrestling. My response is always the same: it is fine to be a follower of Christ who’s still working through doubts and questions.

There will always be more to learn and things we don’t fully understand.

All Souls College in Oxford has a notoriously difficult exam for those applying for a Fellowship. It involves four separate three-hour papers. Two will be on your specialist subject, while the other two will be general. The questions are often abstract, so there are no right or wrong answers. Until recently, there was also a fifth paper that contained just a single word on which the candidate had to write an essay. Often, as many as eighty of the very brightest and best apply; only one or two make the cut.

Christianity is not like that. There are no exam papers, no trick questions and no pass or fail mark. God’s gift and invitation are for all, regardless of how much or how little you know or understand about Christianity or the Bible. I know many people who have been followers of Jesus Christ for longer than I’ve been alive, and they still have questions. That’s OK – even good! The most common word Jesus used for his followers was ‘disciples’, which could be translated ‘learners’. We’re all lifelong learners of what it means to be followers of Jesus Christ.

Objection 5: ‘But I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with this God stuff.’

I remember a discussion group in my home one evening. A woman said, ‘I think I understand what you’re saying about God’s gift, but I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with all this.’ She thought there was still something she had to do in response to receiving the gift, whether it was attending church, reading her Bible and praying, telling others about her faith or giving money to charity. Of course, all these things are good; they often flow out of a heart that has been touched by God’s grace and kindness. However, it is important to say that none of this doing is integral to receiving the gift.

Remember the terrorist on the cross?

Nothing he could do would either earn or repay the gift that Jesus was offering. He simply asked and received with his dying breath. When I was younger, someone helpfully used an illustration of a train, with its engine and coaches. God’s grace is the engine that pulls everything behind. What follows (the coaches) are the increased love, knowledge, obedience, service, works and everything else. Religious ways of thinking can put things the other way around. I often slip into thinking that it is my effort and my good works that are the engine. As a consequence, it seems as if the gift of grace follows afterwards, that it is a reward for my moral effort. Yet the Bible is clear that God’s gift is not dependent on my moral or spiritual efforts. My response to God’s grace is just that – a response to what he has already done for me. All this is really a way of trying to say that you don’t have to do anything.

God loved the world and he gave the gift of his Son for whoever.

It is a gift to be received, not a status to be achieved.

Objection 6: ‘But what if it’s all too good to be true?’

What if Christianity is a spaghetti tree? In 1957, the BBC TV programme Panorama began a broadcast with these words:

Here in the Ticino, on the borders of Switzerland and Italy, the slopes overlooking Lake Lugano have already burst into flower, at least a fortnight earlier than usual. But what, you may ask, has the early and welcome arrival of bees and blossom to do with food? Well, it’s simply that the past winter, one of the mildest in living memory, has had its effect in other ways as well. Most important of all, it’s resulted in an exceptionally heavy spaghetti crop.

Obviously, it was a prank, but that did not stop hundreds of Brits, unfamiliar with the origins of this strange Italian food, phoning in to ask how they might grow their own spaghetti trees.

Is this invitation all too good to be true?

Is all this talk of grace the spiritual equivalent of the spaghetti tree? 

I often get emails purporting to be from HMRC, informing me of a tax rebate. All I have to do is accept the invitation to hand over my bank details and they’ll do the rest. Thankfully, I know that these emails are too good to be true. Is the message of Christianity the greatest and cruellest trick ever played on humanity? This isn’t the place to do a deep dive into all the historical evidence for Christianity. (There are lots of places where you could go to find out more.) Suffice to say that there is exceptionally good evidence for the reliability of the documents that make up the Bible. Wider archaeological evidence, too, supports its claims. You can find historical evidence for the resurrection of Jesus Christ, some of which we touched on earlier.

I’ve spent a considerable amount of my adult life considering the various strands of evidence for Christianity. I am convinced that it is no grand deception but, rather, comprises true accounts and true claims with the power to transform lives.

Every summer the Queen hosts three garden parties at Buckingham Palace. These are a way of recognizing and rewarding public service. Guests cannot apply to attend or invite themselves. They must be nominated by someone and then considered. Where I live, nominations must be sent to the Lord-Lieutenant of Bedfordshire. Those nominated must be British or Commonwealth citizens, and a reason for their nomination must be supplied. I’m not holding my breath for an invitation any time soon. The invitation John speaks of, by contrast, requires no test of citizenship, no nomination and no consideration by others. There is no panel of judges deciding your fate. It is an open invitation: a gift for whoever.

So much of religion can be like the US health-care system. Christianity is more like the UK healthcare system. In the USA, you have to pay into a medical insurance plan if you want to receive treatment. In the UK, care is free at the point of access to whoever needs it, regardless of wealth or status. Christianity does not require you to put significant deposits into the religious insurance programme of heaven. God’s gift of grace, as we’ve seen, is free to all who wish to come and receive.

Whoever is John’s claim.

Whoever is Jesus’ call.

Whoever includes you.

If you are reading this and would like to investigate the Christian faith further, then we would encourage you to look for a local church. In the meantime, you could take a look at the books below, which engage further with different aspects that Martin has touched on above.