“A life is either
all spiritual or not spiritual at all. No man can serve two masters. Your life
is shaped by the end you live for. You are made in the image of what you
desire.” (Thomas Merton,
Thoughts in Solitude)
Last Sunday,
during coffee hour after worship, a member of the congregation asked for my
thoughts on judgment and hell. Then, I read that former television
star (Full House) and Conservative Christian podcaster, Kirk Cameron, recently
announced he had changed his stance on the doctrine of hell. He no longer
believes in eternal torment, but rather that those who don’t go to heaven will
instead be annihilated. While I think Cameron is right to reject the notion of
eternal torment, I do not think “annihilationism” is an adequate alternative.
So, if not
eternal torment or annihilationism, what? Do we just say everyone goes to Heaven
or enters the kingdom of God regardless of the decisions they’ve made or the
life they’ve lived? Such an easy universalism does not seem faithful to the
scriptures or the Christian tradition.
A degree of
humility is called for. As Paul said, “we see in a mirror dimly” and only “know
in part” (1 Corinthians 13:12). Attempting to take seriously the significance
of our choices and the notion of God’s judgment I offer the following.
Smeagol was once
a hobbit-like creature. A hobbit is an imaginary creature invented by J. R. R.Tolkien who wrote The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. Short
creatures with hairy feet, hobbits have been described as a cross between a
rabbit and an English country gentleman. One day, Smeagol and a friend were
fishing in a river. His friend fell into the water and swam or sank to the
bottom of the river where he saw a bright and shiny ring. He returned to the
surface and showed the ring to Smeagol. It happened to be Smeagol’s birthday
and he asked his friend, or rather demanded of his friend, the ring as a
birthday present. The friend refused for he had already given Smeagol his
birthday present. Smeagol strangled his friend, took the ring and put it on his
finger.
It was a magical
ring. When he put it on, he was invisible. But it was also a cursed ring, and
it began to warp Smeagol. It warped him such that he began to find the sun too
hot and too bright. He took shelter in the caverns of a mountain. When we first
meet him in the story he is no longer known as Smeagol but has been warped into
a strange creature called Gollum because of the odd gulping noise he makes.
When we first meet Gollum – formerly Smeagol – he lives on a small island in
the middle of a lake at the dark heart of a mountain. There, he eats raw fish
and speaks to his ring, which he calls, “My Precious”. Isolated from all other
creatures, Gollum is alone, turned in on himself He is alone, that is, except
for the ring – his “Precious.”
I have wondered
if maybe hell is like what happened to Smeagol. God, in His fierce mercy, gives
us freedom – freedom to choose our “Precious”. And we can possess whatever we
choose to be our Precious – money, possessions, power, prestige, pleasure, etc.
– to the bitter end. And beyond. What we choose for our Precious will either
mold and shape us into something more beautiful and more human or it will warp
us into something much less, like Gollum. That molding or warping continues
beyond this life and God will allow us to continue to fall in on ourselves and
our precious forever if we choose.
Scripture warns
us that our choices have consequences and there will be judgment. In Hebrews
12:25 there is this stark warning. “How much less will we escape if we reject
the one who warns us from heaven?” And, lest we think it’s just some
peculiarity of the exhortation to the Hebrews, in the gospels, Jesus warns as
well. In Luke 13, Jesus warns, “Strive to enter through the narrow door.”
“There will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” The warning of judgment, whether
we like it or not, (and I don’t particularly like it) is a part of Jesus’
message. And it shows up repeatedly in each gospel. It is a mistake to try to
make Jesus less offensive by denying that judgment is part of his message. The
Jesus of the gospels warns of judgment and calls us to repent. We ought not to
ignore it or wish it away.
It is also a
mistake, however, to take the images of hell too literally. Christians
throughout history have managed to understand that the images of heaven in the
Bible are metaphorical. Very few Christians die believing that when they awake
they will pass through literal pearly gates and walk literal streets of gold
and live in literal mansions with a cubicle for each of us. We understand that
those images are metaphors pointing to something greater than we can imagine.
But somehow
Christians have not been able, usually, to see same metaphorical interpretation
of hell. We always seem to take the pictures of hell quite literally – a
literal lake of fire in which people burn in agony forever and ever if they
choose wrongly. We are familiar with those images. Paintings and graphic
descriptions have impressed them on our imaginations. Such images of hell make
God out to be a cosmic torturer. And that is hard to square with the rest of what
Jesus reveals about the heart of God. The warning is to be taken seriously, but
let’s not mistake metaphorical imagery for literal description. If the images
of heaven are metaphorical, then so are the images of hell.
A bit of an
aside: Such images of hell are not unique to Christianity. Those who say that
we should ignore the differences between religions and just get down to that
which they all have in common always intrigue me. They ignore the problem that
one thing nearly every religion has in common is hell. There are Buddhist
paintings of hell that are every bit as graphic and discomforting as anything
described by Dante or depicted by Hieronymus Bosch.
It is also a
mistake to morbidly dwell on hell. In spite of the impression some have given,
hell is not the main point of Christianity. Too often the threat of hell has
been used to scare people in order to control them. The primary reason for
Jesus’ coming was not to scare the hell out of us. The primary reason for
Jesus’ coming was to prepare a way or us and to point us towards the kingdom of
God. As Charles Williams wrote,
“The
order of purging is according to the seven deadly sins of the formal tradition
of the Church. The Church is not a way for the soul to escape hell but to
become heaven; it is virtues rather than sins which we must remember.” (TheFigure of Beatrice)
Still, we should
not be complacent about the warning of judgment that we have in scripture. It
is a warning that comes from Jesus. It would be a mistake to assume that God is
just such a “nice guy in the sky” that he could never really judge us severely.
Or that he merely says, “All-y, all-y, in come free!” While it is possible to
make too much of hell, it is also possible to make too little. The judgment is
real. There is no room for complacency.
Jesus is
instructive. Asked a theoretical question in Luke 13 about how many will be
saved, Jesus, as is his wont, refused to get into the theoretical or
speculative. Instead, Jesus’ answer to the question makes it personal. “Don’t
worry about how few or how many make it to heaven. If it ends up that only a
few get in, that is God’s business. If it turns out that God, in his incredible
grace and mercy, makes a way for all to enter, that also is God’s business.”
Jesus says, “You strive to enter through the narrow door.” He makes it
personal. Don’t worry about the particulars of what it’s like. Don’t worry
about who else is in or out. You strive to enter the narrow door. Choose
today who is your Precious.
Our choices
matter in the short run and in the long run. We can choose wrongly. We can
choose that which will warp us. It does matter how we live. It is not a matter
of indifference whether we live lives of self-giving love or lives of self-centered,
self-absorption. We can choose our Precious, and in the end, God may just allow
us to live with whatever has been truly precious to ourselves – eternally. Our
choice of what (or who) is our Precious will ultimately either mold us into
something glorious or warp us into something terrible. That molding or warping
begins now and continues eternally. C. S. Lewis expressed it this way in Mere Christianity:
“Every
time you make a choice you are turning the central part of you, the part of you
that chooses, into something a little different than it was before. And taking
your life as a whole, with all your innumerable choices, all your life long you
are slowly turning this central thing into a heavenly creature or a hellish
creature: either into a creature that is in harmony with God, and with other
creatures, and with itself, or else into one that is in a state of war and
hatred with God, and with its fellow creatures, and with itself. To be the one
kind of creature is heaven: that is, it is joy and peace and knowledge and
power. To be the other means madness, horror, idiocy, rage, impotence, and
eternal loneliness. Each of us at each moment is progressing to the one state
of the other.”
Lewis elaborates
on the point in his essay, The Weight of Glory:
“It
is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to
remember that the dullest most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be
a creature which, if you say it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship,
or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a
nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree helping each other to one or the
other of these destinations. It is in the light of these overwhelming
possibilities, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that
we should conduct all of our dealings with one another, all friendships, all
loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary people. You have never
talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations – these are
mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals
whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit – immortal horrors or
everlasting splendors.”
The Christian
conviction is that Jesus also matters. Jesus did not come to scare the hell out
of us; instead he came to show us what is eternally Precious. Indeed, he came
to be our Precious. Our problem is, among other things, that we, in our
sinfulness and our ignorance, find it difficult to recognize or receive what is
truly Precious. There are many things vying to be our Precious. Jesus comes to
break into our willfulness and ignorance and say, “I am your Precious. I am the
way to all that is precious.”
But more than
just showing us what our Precious is, Jesus frees us to pursue it. Our problem
is more profound than just ignorance. We are born addicted to things that are
not our true Precious. We are unable to deliver ourselves. Jesus Christ, on the
cross and in his resurrection, breaks the bondage of that addiction, frees us
to choose our true Precious – to choose him. Jesus is our Precious.
Being a hopeful
universalist*, I still hope that (back to the analogy) maybe even Gollum,
isolated and alone on the island at the dark and lonely center of the mountain,
is not completely abandoned. Perhaps Jesus is still sitting beside him saying,
“Smeagol, come back. Repent.” Maybe that’s what it means when we claim Jesus
descended into hell. I hope that Dante was wrong when he wrote that over the
gates of hell it reads, “Abandon all hope you who enter here.” I wonder if the
God we know in Jesus Christ ever completely abandons hope. Is it possible that
not even hell is God-forsaken and the relentless love embodied by Jesus
pursues us even there? Wull God ever give up until he is “all in all”?
It might be
harder there to reverse the soul’s momentum after death. Our hold on what has
become Precious to us and the hold the precious has on us can make it hard to
turn from it. As was the case with Gollum. And, if one does, there may be some
painful recovery and rehabilitation involved. “It may be centuries of ages
before a man comes to see a truth—ages of strife, of effort, of aspiration
(George MacDonald). But I am inclined to
believe, based on what we know of God as revealed in Christ, that God will
never give up on those created in his image.
The warning is
real. The promise is also real. Our hope is real. In Hebrews we read that we
have received a kingdom that cannot be shaken and therefore we do not need to
be morbidly fearful of hell. We can give thanks. But in reverence and in awe,
because we remember that our God is a consuming fire. Our choices matter. Jesus
comes to us day by day, comes to us today, and says, “Choose today to enter in
through the narrow door. Choose today who is your Precious.”
* “Hopeful
universalist” is a term I learned from my seminary professor, Charlie
Price. It is distinct from what might be called a “simple” or “complacent”
universalism. Holding that no one can ultimately end in hell is as presumptuous
as presuming to know exactly who ends there. It presumes on God’s freedom to
judge. It also denies the glory and awfulness of human freedom. A hopeful
universalist, on the other hand, while acknowledging God’s judgement, hopes
that, in his relentless love, as demonstrated in Jesus, God never completely
abandons the objects of that love. Hopeful universalists in the church’s
history would include Clement of Alexandria, Gregory of Nyssa, with his sister,
Macrina (On the Soul and the Resurrection, an excerpt of which is here),
and Isaac of Nineveh (Isaac of Nineveh/Isaac the Syrian: The Second Part, excerpts of which can
be found here) among the early theologians. More recent examples are F. D. Maurice (The Word "Eternal" and the Punishment of the Wicked),
George MacDonald (The Consuming Fire), C. S. Lewis (along with the works
quoted above, check out his book, The Great Divorce), Karl Barth, Hans Urs Von Balthasar (Dare We Hope That All Men be Saved?), Kallistos Ware
(Dare We Hope for the Salvation of All?) John Milbank (Universal Salvation in Christ: A conversation with Professor John Milbank), and David Bentley Hart (That All Shall Be Saved).
Scripture support
for such a view might include passages such as Psalm 139:7-8, Acts 3:21, 1 Corinthians3:11-15 & 15:22-28, Colossians 1:20, 1 Timothy 2:4, 1 Peter 3:19, 2 Peter3:9. While these “hopeful” verses encouragingly point to the wideness of God’s
mercy, they do not allow for complacency.