Am I Going Through Hell?: Faith Reflections from a Cancer Oven (#7)
[A note from our Managing Editor: Tim Shorey, pastor and author, is one of our Gospel-Centered Discipleship staff writers. Tim is also currently battling stage 4 prostate cancer. On Facebook and CaringBridge, he’s writing about his journey. We’re including some of his posts in a series on our website called “The Potter’s Clay: Faith Reflections from a Cancer Oven.” To preserve the feel of a daily journal rather than a published work, we have chosen not to submit these reflections to a rigorous editing process.]
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Am I Going Through Hell?
September 2, 2022
Dear Journal,
Based on what I’ve often heard people in the circumstances similar to mine say, I’m guessing that some are thinking (especially when reading some of my laments) that my cancer is “putting me through hell.” But while meaning no offense to these sympathetic friends, I will want to set the record straight. But first, some backstory.
I’m old enough to remember when the careless use of the words “damn” and “hell” was almost universally condemned by God-fearing believers. But it is no longer so. Christians today—including those who sincerely believe what the Bible says about hell and damnation—can frequently be heard damning disappointments, circumstances, things, or people and referencing “hell” as casually as they would a passing case of the hiccups.
But I would suggest that if damnation to hell is—as I believe it is—banishment to a place of unending, precisely and proportionately fair, but very real divine punishment, far away from the smiling presence of God, then it should be something about which we never trifle. At the risk of sounding like a crotchety old nitpicker, I wish we Christians would rethink our reckless misuse of the word, “hell” and its corresponding term, “damn.” For these are two of the most dreadful words in all human vocabulary, speaking as they do, of the two most dreadful horrors in all human experience. They are literal and ultimate curse words—for hell and damnation are God’s prerogative, involving his everlasting justifiable curse, pronounced upon Satan, his angelic demons, and all who reject the Truth in this life (Matt. 25:41; Rom. 2:6–9; Gal. 3:10; Rev. 20:7–15).
And yet, Christians can be heard to say (and not infrequently), that “That was hell” or “I’m going through hell” or “This is hell on earth” or “All hell broke loose” or “What the hell?!” or “It’s as hot as hell.” In my opinion, besides being egregious misrepresentations of the truth, these profane expressions diminish the fearful dreadfulness which we all should feel when considering the reality behind the words. My concern is not to taboo certain four-letter words legalistically but to restore them to their right and proper use and to recover a godly fear and trembling when thinking about what these words represent. Serious words describing serious realities need to be used seriously.
Here’s a far less significant but still meaningful example. Back in the day when people started calling everything they liked “awesome,” the result was that people forgot what “awesome” really meant. The careless use of the word changed how people thought about the word (and the experience behind it), reducing its meaning from “that which inspires awe and wonder” to “that which I happen to like.” A serious word (“awesome”) casually spoken led to a serious experience (awe and wonder) casually understood. If a milkshake can be awesome and a fierce thunderstorm can be awesome, then what in the world does the word “awesome” mean? How we use words really does matter.
I’d suggest that there’s a reason why we never hear anyone say, “I’m going through Auschwitz” or “All Buchenwald broke loose” or “It’s as hot as a Nazi oven out there.” And why not? Because the realities behind the words are far too real and terrible to speak of so flippantly or to liken lesser things to. To say that it’s as “hot as a Nazi oven” would be to trivialize the horrific reality of a Nazi oven. Christian: it is as it should be, that our horror is too stark, our grief is too raw, and our hearts are far-too-deeply anguished over these twentieth-century tragedies, then for us to refer to them with anything but a grieving and hushed sense of lament.
Likewise, while other experiences on earth can be devastatingly brutal—they are not hell. Our world is so full of pain that there is no denying its horrific moments. But given what God says about hell, might I suggest that as bad as it sometimes gets in this life, there is no hell on earth for you and me? Compared to hell, the worst moments of this life –including my Stage Four, apparently terminal cancer—are but fleeting sorrows.
Yes, I am going through severe affliction right now. Yes, I know how tormenting life can feel, with cancer being but the latest in a long list of sorrows. Yes, I weep every day. Yes, Gayline and I have wept many bitter tears. And yes, we’ve endured enough agonizing seasons to understand why people with no knowledge of what the Bible says about the real hell might wonder if life on earth is it.
But I have chosen to preserve the solemn and horrible meaning of the word by saying emphatically that while I know pain and sorrow—I have in no way whatsoever been through hell. Nor am I going through it now. Nor will I ever go through it. And while I fully expect that my life will get much harder in the next three years (unless God heals me), that increased hardship will only prove that I might feel cursed without being cursed. My cancer may get very, very, very bad, but no matter how bad it gets, it will not be damnation or hell. And it seems important—at least to my conscience—that I see and speak the difference.
I have another very sobering—and yet heart-affecting reason why I’ve decided against flippant references to hell and damnation. It is because there is one, and only one Person who truly can say, “I have been through hell on earth.” His name is Jesus, the eternal Son of God who became Man precisely for that purpose. He voluntarily chose to be “smitten by God,” “crushed for our iniquities” (Isa. 53:4–5), and cursed by God upon a tree, that he might reconcile us to God (Deut. 21:22–23; Gal. 3:13–14; Rom. 5:6–10; 1 Pet. 2:24).
Jesus was willing to wear (i.e., be under) a crown of thorns because he had willingly and voluntarily placed himself under the curse of God’s wrath, and thorns have symbolized that curse since way back in Genesis (Gen. 3:17–18).
I think that we twenty-first century, Jesus-loving Christians—living as we do in a very profane world—can unintentionally profane the sin-atoning sacrifice of our precious Savior when we speak flippantly of our life-sorrows as if they are the same as his—or even close to it. It is fitting that we use far greater care, lest in overstating our sufferings, we understate his. For the honor of our Lord, I recommend that, on the one hand, we think (and speak) of hell and damnation with hushed lamenting horror, and then, on the other hand, with tear-filled, grateful, and indebted love. For Jesus took our hell precisely so that we would never have to. He was cursed so we wouldn’t be.
Something to think about.
If there is any merit to my concerns, then—out of reverence and love—I think we’d all do well to post a new, strong, round-the-clock guard over our hearts and lips.
And by the way—just in case you didn’t catch it earlier: Nobody needs to worry that cancer-stricken Tim Shorey is going through hell. Thanks to Jesus, I am not, and I never will.
Saved by Christ alone,
Tim
* You can read all of the posts in this series here.
Tim Shorey is married to Gayline, his wife of 44 years, and has six grown children and 13 grandchildren. After over forty years of pastoral ministry, he recently retired from Risen Hope Church, in Delaware County, Pennsylvania. Among his books are Respect the Image: Reflecting Human Worth in How We Listen and Talk; 30/30 Hindsight: 30 Reflections on a 30-Year Headache; and his recently released, award-winning An ABC Prayer to Jesus: Praise for Hearts Both Young and Old. To find out more, visit timothyshorey.com.