Should We Stop Asking "Where Would You Go If You Died Tonight?"
Why the Best Argument for Faith Happens While You’re Still Breathing
If you’ve spent any time around a church in the last fifty years, you’ve likely heard the ultimate closing pitch: “If you were to die tonight, do you know where you would spend eternity?”
It’s an effective question, designed to cut through the noise and force a moment of high-stakes clarity. But I wonder if it’s time to retire the approach.
When we turn the Gospel into a “Get Out of Hell Free” card, we inadvertently ignore the impact of faith for all the days you don’t die tonight.
This recently bubbled up in a discussion about the late cartoonist Scott Adams who talked about his own version of “Pascal’s Wager” in his final days. This is the logic that it’s simply “smarter” to believe in God because if He exists, you win, and if He doesn’t, you really haven’t lost much. Because Adams knew he was facing a serious health battle, he waited as long as he could before putting his faith in Christ. He summed up his view by saying the risk-reward ratio is just “good math.”
When we make salvation entirely about the afterlife, that kind of rational, “hedging my bets” response is exactly what we should expect. But when we treat faith simply as a escape hatch against future punishment, we miss the messy, beautiful reality of the right now.
The best argument for a relationship with Jesus isn’t found in the math of the afterlife. It’s found in the radical difference He makes every day you do wake up.
The Exhaustion of the Exit Strategy
For most of us navigating the digital noise, the political fragmentation, falling markets, “wars and rumors of wars”, and the quiet ache of loneliness in a hyper-connected world, an exit strategy isn’t enough to get us through the week. I’m already tired just from writing that sentence.
When our faith is focused solely on the finish line, we’re left to navigate the "now" under our own power. That’s why so many of us are so weary. We don't just need a Savior for the day we breathe our last. We need a Savior for the day we have to look our spouse in the eye after a heated argument, or the Monday morning we drive to work knowing the layoffs are about to be announced.
Faith as Infrastructure, Not Just a Hedge
If you view faith only as a heaven and hell issue, it can become a premium you pay in the form of “behaving” to avoid a penalty. But if you view faith as infrastructure, everything changes.
Infrastructure is what allows a city to function. It’s the pipes for clean water and the roads that connect us. You don’t hope to use infrastructure one day in the far future; you build on it daily. When we shift from “Where am I going to spend eternity?” to “Who has given me acceptance, belonging, and identity?”, faith becomes the internal framework for a life that actually works in the here and now:
The Grace to Forgive: In a culture of “blocking” people who disagree with you or holding permanent grudges, extending grace is like a superpower. It’s the infrastructure that keeps your own heart from becoming a prison of bitterness.
Peace in a Chaotic Home: Faith becomes the quiet confidence that your foundation is set on something unshakeable, even when the kids are screaming and the bills are past due.
Purpose in the Ordinary: Faith suggests that washing dishes, grinding spreadsheets, writing emails, and raising kids aren’t just tasks to be endured until heaven. They are the exact places where the Kingdom of God makes a difference.
A Relationship, Not a System
The Gospel isn’t primarily just a deed to a future heavenly mansion. It’s an invitation into a daily, intimate relationship with a Father who actually likes you. It’s the realization that the same power that rolled away the stone can help you roll away the anxiety of your current season (1 Peter 5:7).
Jesus didn’t say, “I have come so they can have a great afterlife.” He said, “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full”.
“Full” doesn’t mean every need is met or that we’re free from the pain of this fallen world. It means we can have a life that is reintegrated with Christ, providing contentment in every circumstance. As Paul wrote in Philippians:
Philippians 4:11-13 New American Standard Bible
Not that I speak from need, for I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am. I know how to get along with little, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need. I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.
The Gospel’s greatest hope isn’t a “maybe” you’ve tucked away for the end of your life. It’s a “yes” that changes how you treat your spouse, how you handle your money, and how you find rest in a restless world.
A New Question
Maybe it is indeed time to retire the old pitch. Instead of asking what happens if we die tonight, let’s start asking:
“If I wake up tomorrow morning, how will the Christ in me, the hope of glory (Colossians 1:27) change the way I live my life?”
Faith is not a bet we make against the darkness of the future. It is the light we carry into the complexities of today.
Your turn:
If we stopped using the 'where will you go' pitch, what is the first thing you would tell a friend about why you follow Jesus today?
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I would share my testimony of being lost, with no sense of belonging, looking for acceptance where it could not be found. But God, always but God. I would share how a life with Him doesn't promise a life without trials, but it provides a life where I have experienced the love and presence of the One who will never leave me nor forsake me.
As a friend use to say, "Salvation is not a plan, it's a Man."