Theses On The Door: Addendum 1 - Hell

It would be unfair to end a series on the irrationality of consecrating a gay, unmarried, cohabitating man to the status of Christian bishop without addressing the reasonable comments raised by Contratimes reader (and my friend), Luke Buckham. It is not often I address comments raised by a reader in a direct post. But Luke asks very tough questions. It is one of his gifts.

In Part IV of the series, "Theses On The Door", I inserted at the end of that installment the following passage from St. Paul's second epistle to Timothy:

¹But mark this: There will be terrible times in the last days. ²People will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boastful, proud, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, ³without love, unforgiving, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not lovers of the good, ⁴treacherous, rash, conceited, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God— ⁵having a form of godliness but denying its power. Have nothing to do with them.

In response to this passage (see the comments thread of Part IV), which I cited in order to anchor my remarks about the "form of godliness", Luke writes:

Perhaps an interesting way to bring more clarity to this debate would be to ask a simple question: do you, Bill Gnade, believe that those who don't accept Christ's teaching and Christ's spirit, commit their lives to it, and spread it to others, are on their way, literally, to hell eternal?…If you say, as a good christian [sic] friend of mine often does, that you don't know, I'd say that's a form of heresy, even if it's a wise answer.

My reply to Luke must begin with a simple observation: I am not engaged -- yet -- in a debate with him. It would be more apt to describe our exchange as a discussion. I believe Luke would accept the description. I would further note that Luke has asked a compound question; there are numerous qualifications appended to his query, like "accept Christ's teaching and [His] spirit", "commit their lives to it", "spread it to others". I wish the question were simpler, like, "Do you think those who reject Christ will be accepted by Him anyway?" Because that question at least implies an answer. In fact, it is an answer in a rhetorical sense.

But I don't know how it follows that, if I plead genuine ignorance, I have committed heresy. For I am not advocating anything other than my own lack of certitude; I am not proposing anything other than my own limitations (particularly as they are constrained by Luke's question). I might still answer that the words of Christ, the teachings of the apostles, the polemics of the Church Fathers (and Mothers) and the orthodox traditions of Christendom do in fact state that those who reject Christ will be granted their wish, namely, a life without Him; a life without redemption. My ignorance of whether these warnings MUST be fulfilled is another matter altogether.

Luke knows that I believe C. S. Lewis' The Great Divorce is perhaps the best and most accessible description of damnation (and redemption) I've ever read; Charles Williams' Descent into Hell is quite good, too. Both works of fiction are powerful and prescient, I believe. And if not prescient, they are at least trenchant observations on the nature of rejection and estrangement between humans. I mean, let us assume that there is no divinely ordained hell or damnation. That does not mitigate the overwhelming fact that humans reject and damn each other every day, in truly abusive and horrific ways. Surely some marital breakups are as final as any eternal hell; surely many crimes are as brutal as a lake of fire; surely people divorce themselves from reality and friends, family and lovers every minute of the day. We see people choosing all sorts of hells at every turn. One could even argue that a suicide is a form of self-imposed damnation: an act either damning the world as unworthy of the suicidal self or damning that self as unworthy of the world.

I would further respond with an anecdote. I recall a New Testament professor of mine defending -- rhetorically -- universalism, the belief that, in the end, everyone is accepted and redeemed by God. My professor asked why all Christians would not want that to be the case; he observed that it seemed to him that certain Christians' angry resistance to universalism indicated that some Christians really WANT THERE TO BE A HELL, that they really WANT TO SEND PEOPLE TO AN ETERNITY OF SUFFERING AND TORMENT. He asked whether our desire should be that all people would in fact be "saved". His lecture remains one of the most memorable moments of my college experience.

But I have not known anyone who will have bliss who does not want bliss. If a person does not seek bliss today, steeped in mystery as each of us is, then why would that person seek bliss tomorrow, particularly a bliss that is given against one's will? If I can reject an ice cream cone offered by my father on the condition that I first clean my bedroom -- even when I desperately want that ice cream -- why is at all strange or difficult to assume that people might reject God? Many of us wonder why our wives or fathers or mothers reject us. Does not God wonder the same thing about those who reject Him? And is it not an act of love and justice to finally give what it is that people really want?

I am reminded of the thoroughly secular movie, "The Rapture" starring Mimi Rogers. It is a very adult film about the relatively Protestant fascination with the theologically dubious "Rapture", the return of Christ (before the final days) when He takes home from the soon-to-be-damned earth all His children. The film is fascinating in its climax, for it shows how obdurate and stubborn we humans can be in the very face of God.

Is it a heresy for me to suggest that hell is a form of love? Is it heresy for me to suggest that damnation is an act of mercy, compassion, and even kindness? Many people believe that ending the life of a maimed animal struck by a car on the highway is an act of compassion. Some argue that death should be offered to humans in pain; doctor-assisted suicide and living wills are all about death as mercy and love. How about that soul begging to be put out of its misery, especially its misery in the presence of God, friends and family? Is it kindness that prompts God to finally give the plaintive soul what it demands? Is hell God's most reluctant act? Is it His final resort, His final gift? Is creation one sort of gift and destruction another?

If Luke were to finally press me for a definitive answer, it would be this: that if people are to be saved -- in this life, in the next, in the middle, or wherever -- Jesus Christ must be central to that salvation. There may be countless roads to Christ; but there is only one gate to paradise, and it is the Christ of the Christian faith. Everyone may be offered one final, undeniable and unshakeable encounter with God and His Incarnate Son even after death; but a decision will nonetheless be expected: accept or no?

And if Christ is not the central place between the Will of Allah and the Law of Moses; if He is not the fleshly answer to the self-emptying Buddha; if He is not the liberating God-Man Servant-King of all Hindu castes; if He is not the Incarnation of Grace, the crossroads between extremes; if He is not the only savior or means of salvation -- then Christianity offers nothing. Why bother? Why follow if He and His Church are nothing special in the end?

I don't know if this is an answer† to Luke's question. But I've at least tried to draft an answer, an answer which may resemble so much stew with a sprig of heresy thrown in.

Peace.

(Tomorrow: A reply to another of Luke Buckham's questions.)

†A different yet equally important answer can also be found in my other series, "The Problem Of Knowing Good and Evil".

©Bill Gnade 2006/Contratimes -- All Rights Reserved.