If Someone Killed Themself, Would They Go to Heaven?

*Disclaimer: This article may contain content that is sensitive and could be traumatic or even triggering to a person. Please consider getting help immediately if you or your loved one has had thoughts of inflicting self harm. You’re not alone, and you matter. There is hope and help available.


“If someone killed themself, would they go to heaven?”

My son asked this question this morning.

He’s ten.

Yup.

He was watching a show on Netflix yesterday called The Extraordinary Woo. This show follows the career of an autistic Korean attorney, and in that episode, a man attempted suicide by hanging himself by the neck.

So now my ten-year-old's wheels are spinning, and he’s trying to make sense of suicide and it’s implications not as an end to this life but he’s wondering what might happen in the life to come.

Since he’s not alone in wondering about this question, I want to offer some encouragement to anyone who has ever lost a loved one to death by suicide. Suicide is not the “unforgivable and unpardonable sin” like we learned at catholic school or in evangelical camps.

People who have misused the Bible to shame others have taught this. The logic is, “since a person is unable to repent because that sin is committed and there’s no opportunity to ask for forgiveness for it, then the person must be damned forever.” How silly is this logic though? For many of us, we are going to die someday without knowing the exact moment of our death. So it’s probable that many of us head into death with numerous unconfessed sins, and if that’s true then God help us all with this silly logic. How many sins are there that we have committed that we aren’t even aware of (theologians call this sins of omission)? How is it possible to repent for a sin that I don’t even know I committed? This reasoning is absurd.

Rationality aside, the Bible does not teach that suicide is an automatic expulsion from the gates of heaven.

So what does the Bible say about suicide?

Let’s take a look.

Some have tried to use Mark 3:20-35 as a proof text for suicide as the “unforgivable sin” of blaspheming the Holy Spirit, but this is just flat-out wrong. The only unforgivable sin Jesus has in mind here is not suicide, but it’s calling the work the Holy Spirit does “satanic” (for example, when the Pharisees try to say Jesus “has a demon” when he just healed a person—that would be pretty unforgivable to done mess that up, A—aron).

In the Bible, suicide is mentioned only six times when six different people die by suicide.

  • To avoid an embarrassing death at the hands of a woman, Abimelech dies by forcing his armor-bearer to thrust him with a sword (Judges 9:50-57).

  • Taking a bunch of Philistines with him and while offering a prayer to God, Samson pulls the pillars of a house down upon himself and everyone in it (Judges 16:28–30). The mighty King Saul, wounded, doesn’t want to die by wounds from his enemies. So he asks his armor-bearer to kill him as Abimelech did in his story, but the servant refuses to do it. So Saul falls on his own blade and dies (1 Sam. 31:1–6).

  • Ahithophel hung himself under a tree (2 Sam. 17:23).

  • Zimri ignited a fire around him to die (1 Kings 16:18–19).

  • Judas Iscariot bought a field for himself with his murder money (the silver he won for turning in Jesus), and just like Ahithophel, he hung himself (Matt. 27:5; Acts 1:18–20).

In every one of these stories talking about each person dying by suicide, there is never a moral evaluation and determination made about their death by suicide. For Saul, there is plenty of moral evaluation about his wasted life and how he disobeyed God in other ways, but suicide itself is not listed as any reason for his fate and God’s displeasure with his life.

In the absence of anything in these texts, what then does the Bible say about suicide?

We do have God’s prohibition in the sixth commandment, which is a blanket statement about murder and maybe we’ve heard it said like this: “Thou shall not kill.” The commandment is clear: you shall not murder. This commandment forbids taking any person’s life and encourages us to seek and promote life to everyone around us. But of course, with just war theory there are exceptions if you are a soldier in a war and you must fight for your nation. And there’s also self-defense or protecting others around you from harm (which is the greater sin, allowing a person to murder you and several others or taking out the guy about to do it first?). That commandment while true, has a certain kind of flexibility with it in actual practice.

So going back to the topic of suicide, if we apply the sixth commandment to it we do know that murdering yourself (i.e. killing yourself) is a sin before God. We are depriving ourselves of the life that God has given to us, we are not protecting the sanctity of life, and in effect, we are saying that we know better than God when we should live and when we should die. In that way, there’s also a kind of hubris involved in it. So yes, suicide is a sin. But is it the sin above all sins? Is it the sin that separates us from God eternally?

There’s nothing here that would suggest to us biblically that suicide is an unpardonable sin, to a degree that is worse than any other sin that we could commit. What we know from the Bible is that suicide is a sin, just like any other sin like lying, stealing, committing adultery, coveting, and the rest.

I think where people get confused on this topic, it isn’t our misunderstanding of the Bible on this but it’s our misunderstanding of God on this. Fundamentally, we don’t get God. Our problem isn’t biblical, it’s theological. Many of us are convinced that our repentance—the amount of saying I'm sorry to God about x, y, or z, is what justifies us before God and makes us acceptable enough to walk through those golden gates. So if we just say the right thing, throw up enough Hail Marys or whatever, then we’re going to be good with God and get in.

The thing is, that’s all a big lie.

The only way we are ever acceptable before God is through repentance, yes, but there’s something even more important than that part. Turning away from our pet sins that we love so much is a part of it, no doubt, and turning away from trusting in our own way of doing this is a part of it, to be sure. But the most important part of acceptance with God is faith in the person and work of Jesus Christ.

We don’t just turn away from ourselves, but we turn toward God. We don’t just say I’m sorry, God. But we look to the only One who can take away all of our sins—past, present, and future. That kind of forgiveness can only be found in Jesus. It’s not our measure of repentance that seals us into the heavenly kingdom, but it’s the Holy Spirit who seals us for heaven (Ephesians 1:13, 4:30) when we trust in Jesus to take us to be with him forever.

The reason I said earlier that we don’t get God, is that we believe the lie that God is a kind of petty god who takes into account a list of rights and wrongs, and like Santa Clause, he’s just waiting up at the North Pole wondering if we made the naughty or nice list. But the kind of God that the Bible talks about isn’t petty, and he isn’t making a list and checking it twice to find out if we are naughty or nice—but he’s this kind of deity who would do anything to save us from our sin and misery. He’s this kind of God who doesn’t look down at us in judgment, but he actually went down to be with us and to be judged for us himself, taking on the penalty of our sins on our behalf. This God is a rescuer, not a ridiculer.

So when my son asks, “If someone kills themself, will they be in heaven?” my answer isn’t a direct “no” or “yes,” but it’s, “In whom did this person believe and trust?” If the person was a Christian and they died by suicide, I have no reason to doubt that they are with Christ forever. That’s not even a question. Not even suicide can stop the precious and perfect body and blood of Jesus from giving us the full and complete forgiveness of all of our sins.

6 Things I Learned from Michael Horton as His Student, Executive Assistant, Editor, and Friend

Actually, if I were to write a blog post on all the things Michael Horton has taught me they’d form a book, not a blog post.

He was the first living contemporary Reformed theologian I had ever read, and since stumbling upon Putting Amazing Back Into Grace in an old bookstore in North Park back as a college student I made sure it wasn’t going to be my last. (And yes, for San Diego longtime locals that’s the same bookstore that was once Evangelical Bible Bookstore and is nowadays home to an amazing brewery—shoutout to Mike Hess!).

I soaked up his dogmatics, systematic, popular works, oldest works (ever hear of or read Mission Accomplished (1986), We Believe (1998), The Agony of Deceit (1990) or Made in America (1991)? Yeah, didn’t think so. :p), essays, articles, talks, and sat under his superb teaching for four years in seminary, went to as many conferences as I could where he spoke, and worked for him at White Horse Inn—soaking in the theology of the Francis Turretin or Petrus Van Mastricht of our time. 

Sure, I was a big fan. It was borderline idolatry but, if you’ve ever been around a theological giant (who is not 6 feet tall) you’d understand.

Although the bulk of his teaching is something available to all who would “take up and read,” not everybody has the opportunity to see who Mike is behind the scenes and get to know the author who writes endless pages. All that to say, he’s taught me far more than I can articulate in one blog post and I’m thankful to God that I’ve had the opportunity in my lifetime to get to know him and his family over the years.

Here are six things I learned from Michael Horton, the person, not just the author of numerous books ;).

1. A Christian is humble.

When I was his Executive Assistant, I saw a man who was humble enough to be corrected by anyone. And I mean, anyone. He would often answer emails from people who clearly had no idea what they were talking about, and yet, he wouldn’t belittle them or use his theological expertise to squish them but would graciously and patiently listen to them.

For the first time in my life, I witnessed someone who could theologically crush just about anyone—the equivalent of MARVEL’s Titan, Thanos—choose to be gentle and lowly instead. It was a remarkable witness to the humility of Christ and has left a deep mark on me in my own ministry. It’s not just about being right. Christians are called to both “get the gospel right and to get the gospel out.”

2. A Christian is kind.

Every morning that he came into the office, Mike would say hello to “the least of these.” From the administrative assistant near the front door to our writing staff, it didn’t matter who—Mike was ready to greet every image-bearer in the room on his way to grab a Diet Dr. Pepper from the mini-fridge. This small thing reinforced that great Reformation teaching of God wearing a mask in our neighbor. When we greet another person, or befriend the other, or ask how they are doing, or offer a cup of water, we are greeting, even befriending Christ. God wears many masks.

3. A Christian is free to enjoy life.

As I look back to the moments we shared together and with others, whether it was a ride to the airport, a graduation or ordination celebration, a backyard hangout, a lunch, family dinner, or a cigar outside in the sun, I saw a man who was able to appreciate the good gifts of God in all of life.

Christians do suffer, but we aren’t masochists. We can appreciate the good things that God generously gives us in this life and thank him for these gifts, with a cheerful spirit. Sometimes even, while enjoying a good dram full of a “spirit”! ;)

4. A Christian suffers, yet still glorifies and serves God in everything.

You don’t write A Place for Weakness without God making plenty of room for weakness in your own life. From over a decade ago to the present, Mike has taught me the truth and the somewhat harsh reality that every Christian suffers.

He is no stranger to suffering—from watching loved ones and mentors die to living with excruciating back pain. But his hopeful response to suffering is what has always stuck with me.

In the midst of weakness, he continues to serve the Lord as he is able with what he has in front of him. He lives with gospel hopefulness.

Michael Horton once told a small group of us, “The problem with Christians is not that they aren’t where they should be. The problem with Christians is they aren’t who they should be where God has called them to be.”

I remember when his back injury happened and watched that long road to what would hopefully be a recovery but has remained to be continual pain... In spite of the personal pain he experiences, Mike is a joyful person to be around. He’s sincere as a friend and colleague and seeks to serve Christ in everything. Of course, like any sinner-saint, he fails to do this perfectly and isn’t the gospel. But that’s what makes Mike so great. He points others around him to the gospel, not to himself.

5. A Christian shows charity.

As one of his students, I often observed an emphasis on assuming the best about others from Mike. He emphasized this especially in his Doctrine of the Church class at Westminster Seminary California (WSC), but throughout all of his written works and his personal correspondences, Mike is an incredibly charitable person toward those outside of his own theological tent.

Where Reformed folk tend to circle the wagons, Mike would engage with others far outside the Reformed tradition noting carefully where there are disagreements, while still pointing out similarities or things to learn from other traditions. He’s able to synthesize and learn from others in the best of ways. I love that.

Mike also teaches all of his students to value others’ work enough to fairly critique it. You don’t have the right to critique someone else if you haven’t taken the time to understand them and critique them on their own terms. True to form and to this day, among my Eastern Orthodox scholarly friends I still hear, “Michael Horton gets us.”

6. A Christian is all about the gospel.

I think it was Kevin DeYoung who came to speak at my seminary when I was a student there, and he mentioned different personalities who were about x, y, or z. And when he came to mention Michael Horton, what he said about him was something like, “And Mike, well, he’s about the gospel.” And he just left it right there.

Well, that’s not a bad thing to be identified by and known for!

And from the first time I read Mike’s words in Putting Amazing Back Into Grace, he has always been all about the gospel, to the last hangout I had with him—the gospel was the main thing to encourage us, weary pilgrims, on the way to Zion. 

And with that, I know this post has been about what Michael Horton has taught me, but in all the ways he’s taught at his best, it’s only because of the gospel of grace that he has on his lips and has typed on his keyboard that he has been able to do it.

Thank you, Mike, for teaching me more about what it’s like to be a disciple of Jesus. I praise God for his work through you and continue to pray for you and your family regularly. And more importantly than any of us, I thank God for the gospel that is “the power of God unto salvation,” for sinners like us.

Every Day Is A Gift From God

In her book, Liturgy of the Ordinary, Tish Harrison Warren writes:

The psalmist declares, “is is the day that the Lord has made.” is one. We wake not to a vague or general mercy from a far-off God. God, in delight and wisdom, has made, named, and blessed this average day. What I in my weakness see as another monotonous day in a string of days, God has given as a singular gift.

When Jesus died for his people, he knew me by name in the particularity of this day. Christ didn’t redeem my life theoretically or abstractly—the life I dreamed of living or the life I think I ideally should be living. He knew I’d be in today as it is, in my home where it stands, in my relationships with their specific beauty and brokenness, in my particular sins and struggles.

Every day is a precious gift from God. Give thanks, because you are known and deeply loved!

Jesus reminds us in Luke 12:7, “Why, even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not; you are of more value than many sparrows.”

The thought of our hairs being numbered would be frightening if God were far off and pacing around heaven just waiting to rain down fire upon us. But the picture we get of God the Father through Jesus is very different from that scary idea.

God, in his might and power, is of course very frightening because he is holy and we are not. But in Jesus, we are known and truly loved by a God who stands not far off as our Judge but close to us as our loving Father.

He’s the Father who embraces prodigal sons who squandered dad’s wealth and wished he were dead. He’s the Father who loves us even while we are still sinners. He’s the Father who sent us Jesus Christ to hang on a cross.

In Christ, we have a loving Father who knows us by name and who gives us another day to live and move, to be loved and to love. Praise him. Thank him. You are loved by him.

Dr. Seuss Was A Person, No Matter How Small

Dr. Seuss Was A Person, No Matter How Small

How Dr. Seuss’ Racist and Xenophobic Heart Grew From Being Two Sizes, Too Small and How Our Hearts Can Grow, Too