We concluded Appendix A by noting that linguistic analysis leaves us with only 2 principal reasons for questioning the ‘forever’ interpretation of ‘aionios’ when considering Jesus’ descriptions of God’s judgment. The first of these is that we don’t like the implications.

We live in an incredibly complex world; so complex, in fact, that most of the time we can only guess at the potential consequences of our actions. And when we also attempt to factor in the concept of a potentially unending chain of consequences, stretching from now to eternity, we begin to confront the possibility of an unlimited liability for the potentially devastating consequences of what may have seemed to us, at the time, to be minor acts of negligence or self-interest.

I think, for example, of a pastor I once met whose driving really scared me, so that I felt I should warn him of the risks he was taking. But misplaced respect caused me to remain silent. A few weeks later he was killed in a head-on collision; and the relief charity he had been running collapsed. How many productive years of this pastor’s life were lost? How many lives of those involved in that crash were wrecked by his untimely death? How many potential acts of mercy never happened? Did any of them turn against God or fail to hear and respond to the gospel? How will I feel in eternity when I discover all the consequences of my failure to speak out? Even if I’ve been told that I won’t be held accountable for the offence, how can I live without finding myself on a never-ending guilt trip? Especially since I’d been pre-warned of my responsibility? (See Ez 33:2-9.)

The possibility of finding ourselves in an everlasting state of conscious condemnation and regret is, frankly, so overwhelming that, if the choice were ours, we might well be inclined to prefer a state of instant annihilation. But would that be a just outcome? In effect, we are suggesting that it would be OK for someone to inflict unspeakable pain and suffering on others, and then quit this life without ever facing the consequences. I think it should be quite readily apparent to us all that this could not be described as ʻjusticeʼ.

But, on the other hand, how can we be held responsible for the unforeseen consequences of such actions? And how can we be blamed for finding ourselves victims of circumstances that are beyond our control? Is it my fault if I was raised in poverty or abuse and turned to crime or prostitution: or is it to my credit if I were raised in a family of wealthy philanthropists?

Come to that, what real responsibility can I possibly have for what happens to those around me? Am I my brothers’ keeper? This sounds like a good opt-out: but way back in the opening chapters of Genesis God makes it very clear that such claims won’t wash. Look again at the original story of Cain and Abel…

The man knew Eve his wife. She conceived, and gave birth to Cain … Again she gave birth, to Cain’s brother Abel. Abel was a keeper of sheep, but Cain was a tiller of the ground. As time passed, it happened that Cain brought an offering to Yahweh from the fruit of the ground. Abel also brought some of the firstborn of his flock and of its fat. Yahweh respected Abel and his offering, but he didn’t respect Cain and his offering. Cain was very angry, and the expression on his face fell. Yahweh said to Cain, “Why are you angry? Why has the expression of your face fallen? If you do well, will it not be lifted up? If you don’t do well, sin crouches at the door. Its desire is for you, but you are to rule over it.” … It happened when they were in the field, that Cain rose up against Abel, his brother, and killed him. Yahweh said to Cain, “Where is Abel, your brother?” He said, “I don’t know. Am I my brother’s keeper?” Yahweh said, “What have you done? The voice of your brother’s blood cries to me from the ground. Now you are cursed because of the ground, which has opened its mouth to receive your brother’s blood from your hand. From now on, when you till the ground, it won’t yield its strength to you. You shall be a fugitive and a wanderer in the earth.” Cain said to Yahweh, “My punishment is greater than I can bear. Behold, you have driven me out this day from the surface of the ground. I will be hidden from your face, and I will be a fugitive and a wanderer in the earth. It will happen that whoever finds me will kill me.” Yahweh said to him, “Therefore whoever slays Cain, vengeance will be taken on him sevenfold.” Yahweh appointed a sign for Cain, lest any finding him should strike him.
(Genesis 4:1-15)

Notice that the issue which God highlights was not what kind of offering was made, nor who was first to make it: but the attitude of heart in which it was offered. Abel was thankful and not ashamed to follow Cain’s example in his own way: but Cain was competitive and resented being outdone. God didn’t spell out how this would lead to tragedy: but made it very clear what his problem was, and how to fix it.

But notice also that God does not permit others to usurp his role as the one true judge of the hearts of others. We live in an interdependent world in which we are, first and foremost, held accountable to God for the deeper motivations of our own hearts and how they affect our relationships with God and man, without regard to the similarities and differences in our personal circumstances.

I Am Guilty Too!

I was born in the aftermath of World War Two; as former enemies sought to become friends once more. Comics and films regularly portrayed ‘our side’ as heroes and the enemy as unprincipled villains: yet there were also stories being told about displays of noble humanity by individuals from both sides of the divide. So, as a youngster with no direct memory of wartime atrocities I mostly found it easy to embrace the spirit of reconciliation as new alliances and friendships were being forged.

I seldom heard an adult speak out about the atrocities they had witnessed: but on the rare occasions when someone did, it was like the spilling of a simmering soup of vitriol. I particularly remember the reaction of one lady whose husband had been tortured by the Japanese; when, as a young minister, I had dared to say that Jesus’ sacrifice would have been sufficient even to cover the sins of a Hitler, were he to repent. To her, this was a  blasphemous denial of God’s justice.

I have continued to believe that my instinct was correct; that nothing else in all creation could ever outweigh the supreme sacrifice of God’s beloved Son as a more-than-sufficient payment for all the evils that have ever been or ever will be. Yet, the more I have witnessed of the depths of inhumanity to which mankind may sink, the harder I find it to understand and forgive.

As Ukraine’s fortunes in the present conflict with Russia have improved, my thoughts and prayers have turned increasingly to the question of how the warring parties can ever be reconciled; and I have been shocked to discover just how deeply the demand for recompence had eaten its way into my own heart.

I have struggled to maintain as far as possible an open heart towards those on both sides, remembering how easy it is to get dragged into the cycle of deception and revenge, rejoicing when it seems to me that enemies are getting their ‘just deserts.’ I have pondered that devilish path by which the human conscience becomes seared and indifferent to the sufferings of others. And I have glimpsed the path leading to the awful realization that you yourself are slowly becoming a monster and can see no way out. What would it be like to realize that you have become a Putin or a Hitler with the blood of thousands on your hands? How could you hope to make amends? At what point is it too late to repent?

Ultimately, the answer to such questions is beyond me: but I do know that in my own past are dark thoughts and deeds that I bitterly regret: and I dare say that the same probably applies to you as well.

What then? Are we better than they? No, in no way. For we previously warned both Jews and Greeks, that they are all under sin. As it is written, “There is no one righteous; no, not one. There is no one who understands. There is no one who seeks after God. They have all turned aside. They have together become unprofitable. There is no one who does good, no, not, so much as one.”(Rom 3:9-12)

Where Does the Real Blame Lie?

There is an old anecdote that says, when Adam ate the apple, he blamed God for making Eve: but Eve blamed the Serpent – and the Serpent hadn’t got a leg to stand on! This may raise a few laughs: but it misses the point. The Serpent actually began his temptation by claiming that God, foreseeing man’s potential for greatness, was deliberately withholding from Adam a full understanding of Good and Evil. This was a classic lie of the very worst kind; because it was almost true. Adam already had unfettered access to the fount of all knowledge – God himself. The only knowledge Adam lacked was that of Evil; and all it took for Adam to cross that fateful boundary was to do what Satan himself had done, by choosing his own self-interest rather than loving and trusting the One who had made him.

According to Satan’s twisted way of thinking, to be really ʻgod-likeʼ he had to have the ability to defy God’s will. Perhaps, as others have done, he fancied that God himself was really the one at fault. After all, if God had not given us free will, there never would have been a problem in the first place, would there? And God must have known what would happen; so doesn’t that make God himself the source of evil? In one sense, that is perfectly true – and God doesn’t deny it!

I form the light, and create darkness. I make peace, and create calamity. I am Yahweh, who does all these things. (Isa 45:7)

The fact is that God necessarily made it possible for us to do evil, simply by giving us the ability to choose whether or not to love. By creating light, God effectively also defined darkness as the absence of light. And in the same way, by establishing such virtues as peace and love, evil is automatically defined as the absence of these things. But that does not make God himself evil – far from it! The real blame, and the crucial moral distinction between people’s characters, depends on the choices they make and the motivation for those choices. God’s overriding concern is for the welfare of his creation, regardless of what this may cost him personally: whereas Satan’s chief value is to proclaim himself equal to God by defying God’s will.

As for us, we started out by following God’s rules: but were then seduced into a life of self-interest; still desiring virtue: but prisoners to our natural desires.

For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. … For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? (Rom 7:19,22-24)

The Buck Stops Here

So where does the buck stop and how can we find freedom from the penalty we deserve and our legacy of guilt? At the cross! This is the point at which God, in the person of Jesus, formally took upon Himself the ultimate responsibility and endured the consequences for all the evil that has ever been committed.

This is the only place where all are condemned, all can be forgiven; and none can stand in judgement against any other. The place where none can stand in judgement against any other. Notice especially Jesus’ teaching about the unforgiving servant…

Therefore the Kingdom of Heaven is like a certain king, who wanted to reconcile accounts with his servants. When he had begun to reconcile, one was brought to him who owed him ten thousand talents. But because he couldn’t pay, his lord commanded him to be sold, with his wife, his children, and all that he had, and payment to be made. The servant therefore fell down and kneeled before him, saying, ‘Lord, have patience with me, and I will repay you all!’ The lord of that servant, being moved with compassion, released him, and forgave him the debt. “But that servant went out, and found one of his fellow servants, who owed him one hundred denarii, and he grabbed him, and took him by the throat, saying, ‘Pay me what you owe!’ “So his fellow servant fell down at his feet and begged him, saying, ‘Have patience with me, and I will repay you!’ He would not, but went and cast him into prison, until he should pay back that which was due. So when his fellow servants saw what was done, they were exceedingly sorry, and came and told to their lord all that was done. Then his lord called him in, and said to him, ‘You wicked servant! I forgave you all that debt, because you begged me. Shouldn’t you also have had mercy on your fellow servant, even as I had mercy on you?’ His lord was angry, and delivered him to the tormentors, until he should pay all that was due to him. So my heavenly Father will also do to you, if you don’t each forgive your brother from your hearts for his misdeeds.” (Mat 18:23-35[/]x)

The cross is God’s throne of grace, where all may find forgiveness. But by setting up ourselves to judge the worth of other peoples’ souls, we deny the very mercy that we crave for ourselves. Rather, we are required to follow God’s directions in order to establish His society of love in the earth. And, to that end, we should always be alert to any opportunities to assist and encourage others into a greater experience of the love of God. (See also Ez. 18:2-32 & 33:2-20.)