Hill City Shining

Dolly Parton died. Within hours, Christians formed a jury. One side built her a staircase to heaven out of gospel songs, charity, kindness, and a long marriage. The other demanded paperwork. “Show me a clear-cut conversion testimony.” “All of you putting her in Heaven should be ashamed.” One side made good works the evidence for heaven. The other made a missing video the evidence against it. Different verdicts. Same presumption. Then Tim Curry died. Same day. Same age. No country-gospel résumé. No Imagination Library. Just Pennywise and Frank-N-Furter waiting in every thumbnail. The temptation will be to condemn his public influence, and then quietly confuse that condemnation with knowledge of his final standing before God. David once stood over a dead man and asked: “Died Abner as a fool dieth?” But David asked it while lamenting. He did not dance on Abner’s grave. If we borrow the question, we must borrow the tears. Ted Bundy exposes the failure of the social-media test. Before his execution, the serial killer professed faith and believed God had forgiven him. James Dobson interviewed him. Dobson did not claim to know whether the profession was genuine. A testimony can be false. A deathbed appeal can be real. A lifetime of good works cannot save. A lifetime of monstrous sin cannot outrun the blood of Christ if repentance and faith are real. And Facebook can certify none of it. We can judge doctrine. We can condemn sin. We can inspect fruit. We can refuse to call good works the gospel. But “I cannot affirm this person’s salvation” is not the same sentence as “I know God condemned them.” “The Lord knoweth them that are his.” Not the algorithm. Not the comment section. Not brother or sister so and so. Not me. Not you. Do not preach Dolly into heaven. Do not preach Tim into hell. Preach Christ to the living. The dead cannot repent. You can.