Heaven to Pay?

Chiar dacă am trăit o viață de abnegație perfectă de acum înainte, that would be no more than had always been expected of us. But it cannot pay off the debt incurred by our past misdeeds.

Chiar și așa și tu, când ai făcut toate lucrurile care ți s-au poruncit, cuvânt, „Suntem niște servitori nedemni. We have done our duty.’ (Luk 17:10)

Tell them, Așa cum trăiesc, zice Domnul Domnul, Nu am nici o plăcere în moartea celor răi; dar că cel rău se întoarce de la calea lui și trăiește: întoarce-te, întoarce-te de la căile tale rele; căci de ce vei muri, casa lui Israel? (Eze 33:11,/x])

Asa de, faced with our inability to make good the deficit, only two possibilities remain. Either:

1. Theoretically, God could simply write off the debt. But that would make God himself a liar (vedea Gen 2:17 Gen 3:4 & Gen 3:19) and allow Satan to charge God with injustice, seeing that God would be choosing to forgive mankind whilst still condemning Satan. Sau,
2. Heaven must pay. Dumnezeu, who has already suffered more pain and offence than any other as a result of our and Satan’s actions, is the only one big enough to settle the score. By voluntarily choosing to suffer the consequences of our sin (all over again!) instead of us, Jesus makes himself our substitute. Încă, în același timp, Satan makes himself the chief executioner; thereby stripping him of any personal claim to leniency. Satan’s pride and hatred takes him to destruction: while God’s love brings us back to Himself.

Shortly after commencing this project, I was given a copy of David Bentley Hart’s book, “That All shall be saved. Heaven, Hell & Universal Salvation.” I had, desigur, read a number of books espousing similar views before. But I wanted to focus on what Jesus actually said, rather than being drawn into arguments either attacking or defending my own, sau altele’ theological positions. So I deliberately refrained from reading it until I felt ready to begin work on this, my closing chapter.

David begins his preface with the following quote from William James:

If the hypothesis were offered us of a world in which … millions [should be] kept permanently happy on the one simple condition that a certain lost soul on the far-off edge of things should lead a life of lonely torture, what except a sceptical [sic] and independent sort of emotion can it be which would make us immediately feel, even though an impulse arose within us to clutch at the happiness so offered, how hideous would be its enjoyment when deliberately accepted as the fruit of such a bargain?¹

This was by no means the first book I had read espousing such views, so it came as no surprise: yet even so I was surprised by the extent to which it shocked and offended me. The cover described it as “A scathing, vigorous, eloquent attack on those who hold that there is such a thing as eternal damnation.” That was exactly as I had expected: and it was the reason why I had deferred reading it. I wanted to consider the arguments objectively – trying to avoid the bias of emotional reaction or a desire for personal justification. But what really shocked me was the extent to which the author seemed to be missing the essential point. I don’t want to single out David for particular criticism in this respect. The truth is that there is much here that I can empathize with: încă, as I read it, my overwhelming sense is that my Lord is being unintentionally slandered.

When taken in its original context, William James’ question has a subtly different focus. He is actually in the process of pointing out the potential differences between reason and feelings; and effectively asking, “How do you feel about accepting someone else as the scapegoat for your misdeeds?“² The answer is simple: “It’s not fair; and it makes me feel bad.” I immediately feel conflicted, knowing that I am in the wrong, with no shred of justification as to why I should enjoy such relief. But in the context of David’s preface, this question has me focussing on the wrong issue – the supposed heartlessness of any God that would permit such a circumstance.

It is obviously not fair that someone else should have to suffer for my happiness. But the question I really need to be confronting is this: “Am I personally willing to be held accountable for all of my past (and future) actions?” That would be fair; and I know I ought to be willing: but I’m not. Because the very idea scares me witless. De ce asta? There are two things in particular; infinity și justiţie.

When we think of infinity, we think mostly in terms of time without end: but that is only part of the picture. Infinity means without limit. We struggle with the concept of unlimited time: but there are far scarier things than that. Intr-adevar, unending time isn’t necessarily scary at all. ‘They lived happily ever after,’ is the classic ending for most children’s bedtime stories. But let the ‘ever after’ become burdensome and even the most trivial irritant can become a torture.

in orice caz, the other really scary thing is the demand for justiţie. Justice is inherently uncompromising: “An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.” It demands that payment must be made in full. Much as we hate and fear the idea, we have to admit that whatever harm we cause to others represents the liability we owe to them. Yet the reality is that many of the possible adverse consequences of our actions are both irreversible and ongoing. One thoughtless action can snuff out a life and leave others in a state of permanent grief and loss. And what of those times when our actions were not accidental: but truly reprehensible? We try hard to ignore these. The sentiment, “May he rot in hell for ever!” appalls us and leaves us desperate for a better alternative. I want a ‘limited liability’ clause written into the contract: but my potential debts are greater than I can ever hope to pay. So what ‘better alternative’ is there? None at all – except unconditional mercy.

And that is why I am left with that disturbing sense that my Lord is being slandered. The difference between my own attitude and that of Jesus is far more extreme than that of chalk and cheese. I baulk at the very idea of accepting full responsibility for the harms I have personally caused: whereas Jesus offers himself to endure whatever suffering and loss it takes in order to settle my debt! Not so much as one ordinary human victim, innocent or guilty, has been condemned to ‘lead a life of lonely torture’ ‘on the far-off edge of things’ in order to make our forgiveness and place in heaven possible. Mai degraba, it was God’s own most beloved Son, Jesus – closer and dearer to Him than any human father-son relationship ever could be – who endured the torture of such a separation. "Dumnezeul meu, my God, why have You forsaken me?“ (Mat 27:46)³

Was this fair to Jesus? Nu!! But was he compelled to do this? Not at all – he volunteered! (Jn 10:17-18.)

The Unjust Substitute

Our human culture implicitly accepts the principle of substitution. De exemplu, almost any financial debt may be immediately cancelled if some wealthy individual can be found who is prepared to accept responsibility for paying off another’s liability. This is because the primary focus of justice in such straightforward cases is normally the loss suffered by the creditor. So if the loss can be made good, the creditor’s claim is ended.

But justice is not only concerned with simple profit and loss: it is also concerned about us as conscious individuals – who we are and how we feel. What of the emotional and physical hurt inflicted by the transgressor’s actions? Should not the offender simt the same kind of hurt that the victim feels? How else can one be sure that they truly understand the severity of their offence, and can be trusted not to offend again?

This brings us up against two potentially conflicting aspects of justice; retribution or reconciliation? What purpose do these aspects serve?

The Good and Bad of Retribution

Retribution and revenge can be very difficult to distinguish from one another: but there is a critical difference; and it has to do with the way it makes us simt. It concerns the sense of satisfaction – or otherwise – that we feel when we see an offender made to endure the same kind of treatment that they had caused another. Mai simplu spus, if it pleases me to see someone suffer as I have suffered, then how am I morally any better than them? Intr-adevar, may I not be even worse, since my suffering may well not have been their original intention? This is revenge. It is an evil at work in me; și, după cum s-a notat anterior, it is a primary contributing factor in a vicious downward spiral of destruction.

Reconciliation or Appeasement?

Pe de altă parte, reconciliation more commonly brings with it a deep feeling of positive satisfaction as harmony is restored between individuals. There may have been loss: but that is more than compensated for by the feelings of love and forgiveness that are aroused, and the prospect of a better and brighter future. But not always. Din nou, there is an issue of moral purpose at work here which pinpoints the difference between reconciliation and appeasement. Reconciliation always seeks to establish a firmer foundation of love for all, even though that process may require further voluntary sacrifices by the one who has been disadvantaged. Pe de altă parte, appeasement is prepared to ignore the underlying principles of love and justice for the avoidance of further personal cost.

De exemplu, let us consider the current situation regarding the Russian invasion of Ukraine. Regardless of claims and counter-claims about the historical and political issues, the immediate issue is that Russia has sought to take possession by force and Ukraine has suffered great loss. How can this matter be settled? If Russia is allowed to simply keep its gains, the fighting would stop – for now: but the problem is unresolved, and there would be a persistent fear that further land grabs would follow, because there has been no fundamental change of attitude. This is appeasement. Și, even if Russia were to acknowledge that its methods had been wrong, and withdrawal and compensation was due, those lost and ruined lives cannot be replaced. No amount of compensation can ever truly settle the score.

So what can constitute a ‘just settlement’ in such cases? There has to come a point at which the injured party is willing to write off any outstanding claim for compensation; but on what basis? Above all, they will be seeking assurance that the wrongdoer has had a genuine change of heart; that they are truly sorry for their past actions and are resolved not to reoffend. This is the only basis for true reconciliation: but how can it be achieved?

Balancing the Scales of Justice

‘Justice’ is famously depicted on top of the Old Bailey courthouse in London as a figure holding a sword (representing retribution) in one hand and a pair of scales in the other. From the ground it is impossible to see what is in the scales: dar, functionally, they would have been used to establish the relative weight of objects displaying radically different characteristics. This simple physical example emphasizes two important aspects of justice: in primul rand, that justice frequently does nu involve simple ‘like-for-like’ comparisons; and secondly that we, viewing things from our restricted earthly perspective, may frequently fail to fully comprehend the reasons why seemingly different factors may be determined to have equivalent effects. But a third, important, aspect of justice is summed up in the old adage, ‘Justice must not only be done: trebuie vazut ca se face.’ Where there is potential doubt concerning the accuracy of a comparison (de exemplu. Are the balance arms horizontal and of equal length?) then we may need to resort to the principle of ‘more than’ equivalence in order that a potential claimant can be entirely satisfied with the justice of their settlement. But this depends upon the other party being prepared to accept the possibility of some additional personal loss for the sake of harmony.

Iisus’ Unjust Substitution Offers Perfect Justice

Was It Infinite?

Cynics are often quick to claim that the three days of Jesus’ suffering and death can in no way be compared to the suffering of an eternal hell by even one man, let alone all of those who should have been punished in the lake of fire, however short or long that punishment may be. But they are failing to comprehend Who it was that suffered in this case and the degree of suffering that He endured. Even for us as humans, we recognize that a single candle burn is far less painful than to be burned all over; deşi, for us, sensory overload will normally limit our suffering in extreme cases. But for an infinite God, capable of being simultaneously aware of the feelings of all his creations, there is no potential limit. în plus, we also recognize the balance between duration and intensity; such that three times the intensity for a given time is equivalent to one third of the intensity for three times as long. We cannot even begin to imagine what Jesus suffered when the weight and horror of all the evil deeds ever committed in our world were laid on him! (Is 53:6[\x]; 1Jn 2:2[\x]).

And that is not all. We have already pointed out that God felt the pain of all these evils when they were first committed, even more than we did. Încă, rather than take revenge on us, He has instead chosen to endure even more pain and grief by allowing his Son, Iisus, who he loves as part of his own self, to take our punishment instead; in effect suffering twice over, if not more!

Held Hostage by Love

În vremuri străvechi, rulers would often resort to an extreme, but powerful, means of preventing recurrent acts of betrayal. They would take hostages; choosing those individuals who were known to be especially loved by the ex-offender. As long as the offender remained true to their promises, the welfare of their loved one was guaranteed: but if not, they would suffer. Almost everyone has someone or something that means almost as much, if not even more, than life itself; and love for that one person or thing provides the ultimate motivation and guarantee for their actions. Not that this necessarily means that such motivations are always good. For some, it could be love of money or power; for others, love of freedom or a particular person. The people and things we choose to love reveal much about the kind of person we really are. Dar, here’s the thing: love has the power to change us. Misplaced love can change us for the worse just as surely as hatred can: but rightly-directed love has the power to transform a villain into a saint.

In most cases hostage-taking is a morally-questionable policy that may secure compliance: but is nevertheless unlikely to result in any deep affection between the offender and hostage-taker: but there are some circumstances which have the potential for a highly positive outcome. Imagine the offender is an irresponsible young man who happens to be in love with the hostage-taker’s daughter; și, seeing this, instead of forbidding contact with his daughter, the young man is offered the prospect of marriage! Could that not lead to a very favourable result?

Judecatorul Perfect

I saw, in the right hand of him who sat on the throne, a book written inside and outside, sealed shut with seven seals. I saw a mighty angel proclaiming with a loud voice, “Who is worthy to open the book, and to break its seals?” No one in heaven above, or on the earth, or under the earth, was able to open the book, or to look in it. And I wept much, because no one was found worthy to open the book, or to look in it. Mi-a spus unul dintre bătrâni, “Don’t weep. Iată, Leul care este din seminția lui Iuda, Rădăcina lui David, a depășit; he who opens the book and its seven seals.” I saw … a Lamb standing, de parcă ar fi fost ucis, având șapte coarne, și șapte ochi, care sunt cele șapte Duhuri ale lui Dumnezeu, trimis pe tot pământul. Then he came, and he took it out of the right hand of him who sat on the throne. Now when he had taken the book, the four living creatures and the twenty-four elders fell down before the Lamb … They sang a new song, zicală, “You are worthy to take the book, și să-și deschidă pecețile: căci ai fost ucis, și ne-ai cumpărat pentru Dumnezeu cu sângele tău, din fiecare trib, limbă, oameni, și națiunea, și ne-a făcut împărați și preoți pentru Dumnezeul nostru, and we will reign on earth.” (Rev 5:1-10)

In the earlier discussion on ʻThe Impossibility of Compulsory Loveʼ, it was pointed out that one of the inherent weaknesses of love is, “cum poate fi pusă în aplicare? … If there is an enforcer, nu va fi acuzat că acționează din interes propriu?” But here we see God’s solution to this problem. This sealed book represents God’s judgments against evil and evildoers. But there is only One who could be considered qualified to enforce them. And that is the One whose love for the guilty was so strong that he chose to surrender his own life and endure whatever punishment was due to them; if only they would turn back from their self-centred, rebellious ways. He alone is the Perfect Judge of the human heart, as well as the Perfect Saviour for those who turn to Him.

How Can I Stop Sinning?

După cum sa menționat anterior, we often naively suppose that all inclination to sin simply vanishes when we get to heaven: but if it really were that simple why can’t we stop right now; and why did mankind ever disobey God in the first place?

To be candid, the reality is that I do not yet love God as much as I love some of my other self-indulgencies; and am certainly frequently more concerned about possible inconveniences to myself than I am about the needs and hardships of others. Not a pretty picture, I admit: but I think it is a truthful assessment of where I am just now. So how is my attitude ever going to change?

In the beginning, mankind knew nothing about evil. All he had ever known was goodness – living in an environment protected by a simple set of rules. He had been forewarned against deception: dar, when confronted with Satan’s claim that God was selfishly witholding something that looked good, he fell for it; and has spent the rest of his existence experiencing the disappointments and ultimate futility of a life without God, living in a world conditioned by an intelligence whose only purpose is exploitation. It has been a hard lesson; and has left many of us cynical, bitter and twisted beyond recognition.

Și totuși, in spite of all the ruin we have brought upon ourselves, God stands ready to offer us reconciliation and Jesus voluntarily offers himself as the one and only substitute able and willing to endure the unlimited penalty that justice would otherwise demand from us. As yet, the thought of what this might have entailed for Him vastly exceeds my powers of imagination. I simply cannot take it in. Mercifully, my own understanding of the depths of shame, pain and corruption to which human beings are capable of falling is for me just the stuff of nightmares: yet a thoughtful reading of history – or even just the daily news – provides clear warning that such evils do exist.

in orice caz, I can only suppose that, as the aeons of eternity roll on, I will again and again find myself thinking that, if Jesus had not been prepared to endure all the unlimited consequences of my misdeeds, I would have been forever barred from that amazing place. And with every such thought, my love and gratitude towards him and my desire to be like him will increase, whilst the very thought of selfish lovelessnes will increasingly become to me the vilest thing of all.

Even before his death, St Paul was so challenged by the love of Jesus that he could dare to say:

I tell the truth in Christ. I am not lying, my conscience testifying with me in the Holy Spirit, that I have great sorrow and unceasing pain in my heart. For I could wish that I myself were accursed from Christ for my brothers’ sake, my relatives according to the flesh… (Rom 9:1-3).

I cannot pray such a prayer. Clar, I am nowhere near that degree of love yet. Dar, this is only the beginning of the transformation that the love of Jesus will ultimately produce in us. Later still, whilst awaiting trial before Caesar, Paul wrote:

Not that I have already obtained, or am already made perfect; but I press on, if it is so that I may take hold of that for which also I was taken hold of by Christ Jesus. Brothers, I don’t regard myself as yet having taken hold, but one thing I do. Forgetting the things which are behind, and stretching forward to the things which are before, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus. Let us therefore, as many as are perfect, think this way. If in anything you think otherwise, God will also reveal that to you. cu toate acestea, to the extent that we have already attained, let us walk by the same rule. Let us be of the same mind. (Php 3:12-16)

See Appendices …

Note de subsol

1. William James, (1842-1910), sometimes called the “Father of American psychology.” As cited by David Bentley Hart in his Preface to the paperback version of ‘That All shall be saved. Heaven, Hell & Universal Salvation’, 2019 Yale University Press (ISBN 978-0-300-25848-6). The quote appears to come from a paper entitled ‘The Moral Philosopher and the Moral Life’, part of ‘The Will to Believe and Other Essays in Popular Philosophy,’ which is accessible online from Gutenberg.org. (N.B. the word ‘sceptical’ originally read ‘specifical’.)
2. The sentence in James’ paper that introduces the cited quotation begins, “If a man has shot his wife’s paramour, by reason of what subtile repugnancy in things is it that we are so disgusted when we hear that the wife and the husband have made it up and are living comfortably together again? Or if the hypothesis…“.
3. Though Jesus’ separation was not infinite in duration, the severity of his suffering was proportionately greater (see ‘Was it Infinite’ later in this chapter.) Many see Jesus’ cry, "Dumnezeul meu, my God, why have You forsaken me?“ (Mat 27:46) as a cry of bewilderment and despair. But Jesus was actually quoting the opening words of Psalm 22:1. This is an incredible prophetic psalm, describing Jesus’ crucifixion scene and the reason for it, – yet written about 1000 years previously – long before crucifixion was even invented! Jesus was neither surprised nor despairing. He had known all along what kind of death and suffering he was facing, si de ce. But He had already made his choice (vedea Mat 26:36-54) and was fully trusting his Father to complete what He had begun. „Tată, into Your hands I commit my spirit.” (Luk 23:46.) “It is finished.” (Joh 19:30.)