Part I of this series demonstrated that the genocidal God objection (GGO) is an emotional reaction to the biblical text, not a logical objection leveled at the God of the Bible. Part II demonstrated that God’s actions with regard to the GGO were in actuality full measures of grace and mercy on His part, as His actions always are. Part III demonstrated that the GGO, even if successful, only proves that the Christian doctrine of the inerrancy of the Bible is false. To date, I’ve yet to encounter substantive rebuttal with respect to these assertions, much less a successful defeater of these claims. It’s just more of the same emotionalism: God’s a real meanie and if you believe what the Bible actually says you’re a liar, a lunatic, or something much more ghastly.

Part IV of this series will consider life and death, and God’s interaction thereto. Everyone agrees, if He exists, that the Christian God has the power to terminate life. The real questions are whether He has the right to take life, or, better perhaps, is He justified in so doing, and whether He’s justified in using whatever means at his disposal to terminate life.

We’re all basically acquainted with the standard arguments with regard to the first question: God is the creator and author of life and is justified with the giving and taking of life. Part I of this series finds Christianity internally coherent in relation to this question. Let’s take another look at the question from a unique perspective, however. What exactly is death?

According to Christian doctrine, which, I remind you is what we’re concerned with here, death is not death. It is a translation from one phase of life to another. Death is not the end; it’s not annihilation; it’s not final; it’s not even protracted. Death is a momentary nano-blip against the backdrop of eternity. To the Christian, death is as near an approximation to nothingness as we can possibly conceive. Is it any wonder the apostle Paul penned these words:

O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?

So much for Christianity being a death cult. As always, Christianity is defined by life, and that more abundant and true. How rich are the treasures of God’s grace: death, that dreaded and feared wisp of non-entity, is life. The Canaanite children’s choir has been singing for quite some time now–a heavenly strain we could hardly imagine–about the riches of God’s grace and splendor. This heavenly chorus, as noted in Part II, praises God in the highest for His unspeakable grace in which God acted decisively to remove the Canaanite children from their horrid veil of tears, into a realm of ineffable glory and joy–which is another way of saying into His immediate presence. This choral response to God’s grace and presence, I’m positive, includes a verse proclaiming these children’s eager anticipation of the final stage of their translation from life to life:  their resurrection to fully mature, physically prime bodies in which they will enjoy life before God for eternity.

So, why does the skeptic resist God’s will in the matter of life to life translation? Make no mistake, Part II of this series demonstrated that regardless of an individual Canaanite’s destination in eternity, s/he was better off for having been translated from life to life without delay.  Perhaps because for the skeptic death is indeed the end? Because it’s the bane and evil of mankind, his ever-present sorrow in the midst of joy? If this life is all we have, it seems threatening that God might actually take it away before our allotted three score and ten. It’s not fair, they might be heard saying, that I’m not in charge over life and death–that perhaps there is something wiser with the capability of enforcing its will when it deems it necessary. But I think it’s more than this…

It may just be the double-edged sword of wish-fulfillment. So often, we hear the narcoleptic refrain that Christianity is just a crutch for those unable to cope with the ills of this life. I’ve got news for you: Jesus is not only a crutch; He’s an entire hospital. Secondly, though, unbelief is the crutch: the genuine wish-fulfillment. The idea that, just maybe, there may be an altogether Holy and Righteous Judge of the Universe who abhors sin and requires righteousness from His creatures. Just possibly, there might be a God who expects his will to be done and at times lays aside His longsuffering to come in judgment. That, perhaps, He sometimes sends sinners as instruments of justice to cultures of evil. What would this entail for me, a sinner? It’s an unsettling thought, a mysterium tremendum, some have called it, that is best avoided by concluding, emotionally, not logically, mind you, that God is a homicidal psychopath, not a righteous judge. The skeptic wishes God were not looking down from heaven, thus utilizing unbelief as a crutch, for then her life to life translation may not be as pleasant under the auspices of a Holy God who cares what transpires on this planet, and intends to right all wrongs and judge all evils.

After all, we would never firestorm Dresden to rid the world of a culture less evil than Canaan, or would we? Does this mean that we as Christians approve of genocide? Heaven forbid. The genocide of the Old Testament occurred under a specific dispensation with respect to His chosen people, a dispensation that will, according to Hebrews 1, never be repeated.

What I find most disturbing about the skeptic’s objection; however, is that skepticism by and large–overwhelmingly to a man and woman in my experience–not only condones, but heartily approves of the second American genocide: the wanton destruction of nearly 50 million children since the early seventies. Is this selective outrage with regard to genocide in some manner tied to wish-fulfillment?

Does God, then, have the right to take life? Of the sinner (and we’re all sinners), absolutely, but then, again, He’s not taking life, He’s translating it from one phase of life to another. Your, and my, concern should be not how we pass, but in what state we pass. And here the grace of God shines as a lighthouse through the fog, for God has made a way for you and me to avoid the jagged rocks of our sin and to join our voices with that heavenly Canaanite children’s choir who comprehend His grace for what it is: grace. I’ll let you in on a secret: I’m going to die and you’re going to die. But death is not really death…it’s a momentary change. It’s a portal to eternity. Why were we mad at God for taking us through the portal again? Instead, we should endeavor to make certain He’s not sitting in judgment of our sin when we go through the portal and stand before Him. There’s only one way to do this:

¹¹And this is the testimony: God has given us eternal life, and this life is in his Son. ¹²He who has the Son has life; he who does not have the Son of God does not have life.

 ¹³I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God so that you may know that you have eternal life.

Part V to come on the second question: whether the means are justified and if God is justified in taking an innocent life.