One of the little conundrums (of which there are many) associated with walking a life pleasing to Jesus is: how should I feel about those who reject the gospel? One's reaction will probably vary based on factors such as: corporate (the unsaved generally) vs personal (those you have actually shared the gospel with), and whether you have an affinity toward someone (let's face it, some we witness to are likeable; some aren't).
Any of us who have read of heroes of the faith have undoubtedly come across those who describe intense sadness at the thought of lost souls. Those saints whose "hearts ache or weep" at the thought of those heading to perdition. While any Believer (at least this one) could not find fault with such intense passion, they (at least this one) could find themselves feeling a bit lacking. I'm reluctant (but that's never stopped me before) to try to measure this emotion but let me try an illustration such as a thermometer. 100 degrees being a burning passion for lost souls; 32 degrees, not so much. I'm not saying that I have a heart of ice in this regard, but I would probably need at least a hoodie. My wife could probably get by in a polo, and some of the most passionate in this arena would need 24/7 a/c as they are burning so hot for the lost. Of course, as Believers we have many views and non-essential theological issues where we converge and diverge. At the end of the day, we are still different at the human level based on nature and nurture, so we need not panic. More reassuringly, the Bible doesn't demand we feel a certain way toward reprobates (that lets me off the hook). Of course, we are to behave a certain way; with love.
Saying we are to behave lovingly doesn't negate some pretty strong directives when it comes to those who reject your offer to share the Good News (i.e., "I don't want to even hear it. Do your Bible beating somewhere else"), or let you share, then reject the actual Gospel. Either way, it's "my bad" on them! We're told to shake the dirt from our sandals, have no association with darkness, and other such passages that reflect the tenor of Matthew 7:6. This is not license to ridicule or generally be unkind, but I believe it frees us from going around in sackcloth and ashes for those who reject the free offer of Christ. On an intellectual level I feel authentic pity for them, and, if truth be told (redundant for this blog), there is emotional distress when kith or kin I feel affectionate toward harden their hearts. However, I also can feel amazed and angry. Amazed that anyone would not seriously consider and accept Christ's offer. Angry that they are an enemy of God. Choose this day who you will serve. If you don't choose Christ, directly or indirectly you have chose Baal; we are now in separate camps and mortal (and eternal) enemies.
Another reality that takes the edge off my angst toward those who reject Christ is that they did it to their own dang self! Calvinism aside (where it should stay), salvation is all of God; damnation is all of us. Most importantly, no one is elected to damnation. Whosoever means just what any clear-thinking person (saved or not) thinks it means: ANYONE. All are called. Not all heed the call. So, it's kind of hard for me to get worked up over those who get what they want. They don't want God now, tomorrow, or ever. Okay, a loving God does not force anyone against their will to love Him in return. So, in a weird, distorted way (often my trump card), one could argue that one should be happy that reprobates are getting what they desire, life apart from God and his constraints. It's as though our feeble human emotions of happiness and sadness shouldn't even apply when it comes to salvation and damnation. There isn't a happiness strong enough to apply to eternity with God, and there isn't a sadness strong enough to apply to the converse. Maybe it's a protective measure for me to just stay in the realm of facts in this situation; try to stay emotionally detached. I can certainly relish the joy that comes with the realization of my salvation, and that of my immediate family (it actually can be a selling point when sharing the Gospel) as it highlights that in addition to eternity with Christ, you can have your best life now (pun totally intended).
Similarly, as in trying to reconcile God's sovereignty and human freewill; I have to just let it go. My finite mind will never understand how the knowledge of untold numbers of people eternally damned doesn't make one crazy with worry or lament, especially when it's inevitable that some of them will be people you had fond feelings for in this life. I guess part of the reason we can cope with these realities is that God loves all of us and would have none go astray. But his love compels Him to allow us to reciprocate or reject this love. Forced love is an oxymoron. For those that are turned into "emotional wrecks" at the thought of the perishing sinner; I suppose that is their cross to bear. Conversely, maybe some of them are made more fervent witnesses because of this trait and they can be admired for it. But, not everyone is wired to withstand that load. Thankfully, God seems to find a niche for all who say, "Here am I Lord...", and all of us can contribute to the Kingdom in our small way.
