The Creed of Eternal Torment--Do Ministers Really Believe It--If They
Do, Why Not Say So?--No Decisive Note of Warning--Definite Missionary
Incentive Is Wanting--The Phrase "Eternal Death" often Used--Does It
Mean Eternal Annihilation, or Eternal Torment, or What?--Vague
Reference as to Punishment Fosters Unbelief--An Age of Compromise
--Professor Faulkner's Testimony--The Idea of Restoration Would Wholly
Meet the Difficulty--Honesty and Candor--Carlyle's Scathing Warning
--Ultimate Fulfillment of Prophecy--Eternal Songs.
If the doctrine of everlasting punishment is true, there has been of
late years a singular reserve on the part of preachers in proclaiming
it. Why? Surely "all doctrine is profitable." This doctrine would seem
to me to be specially so, if it is true. It is contained in the creed of
both the Methodist and Presbyterian Churches. But do the ministers
believe it? If they do, would they not preach it; yes, preach it
morning, noon, and night? But as a matter of fact they do not preach it.
I never heard a sermon on it, or any attempt to prove it, since I was a
child. A short time ago in a large congregation the minister asked for
a show of hands on the part of any who had heard a sermon on hell during
the last ten years. Two hands were held up.
Some time ago a noted Methodist minister told me that the Methodist
ministers of Canada do not believe in Everlasting Punishment. A
prominent official of that church told me lately that he does not
believe it, but that if it were known he would lose his position.
The Presbyterian ministers seem largely to hold the same view. Is the
subject mooted at all in any Presbyterian Church? I know that ministers
profess to believe it; but they seem as apathetic about multitudes
dropping continually into eternal fire as if they did not believe it.
Privately, I have spoken on this subject with many ministers; and not
one of them professed to believe it.
* * * * *
Now, my plea is for honesty and candor. Let us be assured that Truth
will not suffer by being avowed and defended. The matter is of the
greatest importance just now. It has a most vital relation to Missions.
I rejoice in the Laymen's Missionary Movement; but I fear it will wane
if this most important question is not approached, and if possible
rightly settled. For we want to know what the heathen are to be saved
from, if there is going to be an adequate and sustained incentive to
liberality and enterprise.
In all the reports of the meetings of the Laymen's Missionary Movement,
I have seen no hint of the alternative before the heathen if they are
not evangelised. I heard a minister lately speaking of them as
'miserable failures going out into the darkness.' What did he mean? It
seemed to me an unworthy evasion of the question.
And now it is proposed to put in the creed of the proposed union of the
churches that the doom of the finally impenitent will be 'eternal
death,' What does that mean? It may mean either External Extinction or
Eternal Torment. Is the union to be built on such ambiguity? Would not
such ambiguity pave the way for future dissension? Herein we see the
folly of putting too much in a creed, forgetting that 'more light is yet
to break out of God's holy Word,' and that any human creed may yet have
to be revised. And we are slow to make revisions, for revisions seem to
reflect on views that we may have strenuously defended.
Julia Ward Howe, the gifted authoress of the "Battle Hymn of the
Republic," had recently a "vision" of a regenerated world. She exulted
in the prospect of a day of grace. But not once does she seem to cast a
backward glance on the myriads of our race who are supposed to be in
endless torment. Surely, that would have dimmed the glorious forecast.
It may be that she does not believe in torment, or that she believes in
final Restoration. In either case she would be consistent, and nothing
would seriously mar the joy of her anticipation.
But such a mantle of charity is not available for certain orthodox
ministers. They, too, forecast a final day of grace, and paint it in the
most glorious colors. There appears to be nothing to mitigate their joy.
But all the while they profess to believe in eternal torment. Their
creed says that uncounted myriads of our fellow creatures are writhing
in eternal fire, and that their torment will go on forever and ever,
without any hope of mitigation. Surely, the very thought of such
suffering would cast a pall of unspeakable gloom over the most glorious
anticipation? No, not at all. Not for a moment does the black shadow
intervene. How are we to account for that? I can think of only two ways;
either that there is no imagination to realize the horror, or else that
it is not really believed.
This painting of a roseate future, conjoined with a professed belief in
endless torment, savors to me somewhat of unreality. The two things do
not hang together. Surely, if such torment is but realized, it would
cast a pall of gloom even over heaven's joy. But let such torment be
abolished in fact and in conception, and the last vestige of gloom goes
along with it.
And what necessity is there for retaining the idea? Is there any barrier
in eternal justice? Surely, there cannot be, since Christ has paid a
penalty of infinite value for every soul of man. And is there any limit
to divine love? That love is infinite, and embraces the very worst of
our race. But perhaps there is no method by which eternal love can take
due effect? Will not infinite wisdom find a way? If there is any
difficulty left, calling for the exercise of infinite power, surely, it
is not beyond Him whose goings forth have been of old, from everlasting?
Is it not thus reasonable to believe that all possible difficulties will
yet be solved? The infinite One who rules all worlds is from everlasting
to everlasting. His government may require time to evolve His gracious
designs; but He will do all His pleasure. Therefore, we believe the day
will come when sin and suffering shall be entirely done away. This is the
"Far off divine event
To which the whole creation moves."
It will be remembered that I cited the case of the conversion of Saul as
an instance of divine power subduing in a moment the most extreme and
violent wickedness. The chief of sinners became the chief of saints.
Yes; but the man never lost his freedom. In recounting that experience
he could say, "I was not disobedient to the heavenly vision." This union
of divine constraint and human freedom is an everlasting mystery; but
not the less is it a glorious fact.
Now, why should not the same principles hold in the next life? The
wickedness of a sinner may possibly be even more intense then than now;
but the overcoming love, and power, and wisdom will be infinite. What,
then, should hinder their ultimate triumph? Certainly, not the most
terrible wickedness of puny man. It is but finite at the worst, and is
no match for the infinite love and power of God. And then consider that
the redeeming blood of Christ will be of infinite value then as now, and
so will be available for the worst. What a prospect of universal
Restoration is opened up here to our faith!
But there may still lurk in some minds the idea that divine love is
limited to this life, and that justice alone will rule in the next. They
have an idea of different dispensations; they say that this is the
dispensation of probation; that the next life is the dispensation of
rewards and punishments; and so on. Well, there may be a truth in that,
and a wholesome truth, too. But let it ever be remembered that the
character of God is unchangeable. What we call dispensations are but
epochs in the divine government. But the qualities of God's character
will never change. His love is from everlasting to everlasting; so is
His power; so is His wisdom. Will these qualities of His character be
inoperative in a future life, when there will be such sin and suffering
to appeal to them? However great the sin may be, surely divine love,
wisdom, and power will be infinitely greater.
And I cannot forbear adding this consideration: What would Christ think
of the atoning sacrifice that He made for the sin of the whole race, if
the whole race is not ultimately redeemed But it was said of Him, "He
shall be satisfied." Yes; He shall be satisfied. Divine Love will win.
Lately, a little book was published on the subject of missions. The
author is earnest, even to intensity. He says the Church is "sleeping."
He deplores its "deadly apathy," He says that "a thousand millions" have
not heard of the Saviour. He says that "a Christless multitude" dies at
the rate of thirty millions a year. He says that "many millions have
gone to Christless graves." He says that for these uncounted millions
"death and the future are the very blackness of despair." He says that
for twenty centuries these millions have been "perishing." Phrases such
as these are multiplied to a vast extent, to awaken our horror of the
situation.
But singular to say, the author does not seem to have any definite,
positive ideas as to the actual doom of these uncounted millions; or, if
he has any definite convictions, he does not definitely express them. Is
it eternal extinction or everlasting torment? From the phrases he uses I
cannot gather what he actually means. He speaks of a "Christless
multitude" and "Christless graves," and "going into darkness," and the
"blackness of despair." It may be that he deems it wise not to
compromise himself by speaking out his definite conviction, if he has
any. But in my view, he will not produce much of a worthy effect if he
does not say definitely what he means. Or it may be that he has no
definite idea. In that case, would it not be manly and candid to say
that he does not know?
I believe that is the position of very many. They are hovering between
the idea of extinction and that of torment. They try to believe in
torment; they have been inoculated with that idea; they think, or are
afraid, that it is Scriptural; but they recoil from any hearty reception
of it. They have not got the length as yet of the idea of final
salvation. But some day that truth may flash upon their souls like a
gleam of heaven's own sunlight.
To come back to our author. He tries to give us a due incentive to awake
from our apathy, and enter on a Missionary Crusade with a spirit of
self-denial and zeal never yet known. He quotes two passages, which he
presents as a very strong incentive. But neither of these passages has
any force, on the theory either of extinction or of torment. Otherwise,
they are pregnant with eternal hope. Listen: "He shall see of the
travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied." Again: "He, after He had
offered one sacrifice for sins for ever, sat down on the right hand of
God; from henceforth expecting till his enemies be made his footstool."
Neither of those passages can come true on the basis either of
extinction or of endless torment. But they will come gloriously true on
the basis of final salvation.
So the "millions" and "billions" that our author says have been "going
out into the darkness," and into the "blackness of despair," are
redeemed as well as we. The author himself says: "Jesus wants every one
of these poor creatures told at once of Him and His love." Now, if that
is His wish, is He going to be thwarted by any coldness or indifference
of ours? We may fail in our duty; but is He going to fail? A thousand
times, No! He has all power and all love, as well as all eternity, in
which to work out His glorious designs. We cannot conceive of Him as
being "satisfied" with either extinction or endless torment. No; the day
of grace for the millions and billions will come. "He will be
satisfied." His "expecting" will be realized. What wonders of redeeming
love eternity will reveal!
In the meantime, our author furnishes no effective incentive to
missionary effort.
When the idea of final salvation is generally accepted, I believe there
will be awakened an enthusiasm for missions such as the world has
never seen.
Since writing the above, I have unexpectedly been in a large missionary
meeting where two noted men of the Methodist Church were the chief
speakers. Both addresses were most fervid and eloquent. But I noticed
that neither of the speakers had any note of definiteness in regard to
the fate of the heathen after death. It did seem to me that one of them
came once very near to the idea of eternal extinction, but did not
candidly commit himself to it. The other seemed to approach the theory
of torment, but drew back. The whole performance, eloquent though it
was, seemed to me largely shorn of its effectiveness of appeal, because
of its indefiniteness. Surely, we want to know what doom the heathen are
to be saved from, if we are to be moved to any adequate enterprise or
liberality. The few small coins on the collection plates on the occasion
referred to, bore unmistakable testimony to the fact that the fervid
appeals had produced a very meagre result.
If men really believe in everlasting torment, why do they not plainly
say so? If it is true, surely it is the strongest motive that could be
urged on behalf of missions. Perhaps ministers think that the time is
not yet come for an avowal of the larger view, and that in the meantime
it is wise not to commit themselves. But is not that very much the same
as to say that they are waiting for the current of popular favor before
they dare to be faithful? And does it not argue a want of faith in the
truth as a sanctifying and saving power? And is further truth likely to
be revealed to us if we deliberately shut our minds to such light as is
offered? I say, let the truth prevail, though the heavens should fall.
By the way, one of the gentlemen referred to uses the phrase "eternal
death," as many do. I wonder what they mean? It is an ambiguous phrase.
It might mean endless torment after death; or it might mean annihilation
at death; or it might mean annihilation at some future time. It is
surely misleading to use a phrase that may have so many meanings. If
some definite idea cannot be advanced, I think the effect will be that
the whole matter will be regarded as uncertain, and that there is
nothing to fear. And such I believe is largely the position of the
Christian world to-day. Could not a consensus of doctrine be arrived at
by the various Christian churches--a consensus founded on the best
interpretation of the Word; and also on reason?
Only last Sunday I heard a sermon on success in life. And it was a
better and more spiritual sermon than many that we hear on that subject.
The preacher strongly commended the Bible as the best text book on
success; and he was earnest and positive in his distinction between
right and wrong. But he gave no hint that evil doers would have any
punishment in the next life. In fact, he made no allusion to a next life
at all, except in one instance where he spoke of multitudes of men going
out into the next life as "miserable failures." Why did he not speak of
endless torment? That is one article in his creed; but he seemed not to
believe it. A few earnest sentences along that line would have been more
effectual, in my view, than his entire sermon.
Or, if he does not believe in endless torment, does he not believe in
Restoration? Might he not have uttered some warnings along that line?
Surely, it is a tremendous conviction to give a sinful man, that if he
does not repent in this life he must do so in the next, though it takes
thousands of years, and untold penalties, to bring him to that state of
mind. But not a word of this terror did the preacher utter. That would
be a repudiation of the endless torment theory, which would be
unorthodox, and possibly subject the preacher himself to pains and
penalties. So he simply said nothing by way of warning, except failure
in this life. And that does not seem to amount to very much after all.
Is it worth while to preach a sermon about it? Would not the old
philosophy be almost as good, "Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow
we die?"
Would it not be better to take the suffering incident to the
Restoration theory, and be positive about it as a warning rather than
the vague and half-hearted reference to eternal punishment, or the
omission of any reference to it whatever? The manner in which it is
referred to, when spoken of at all, gives one the strong impression that
it is not believed. For, if believed, it would certainly not be preached
in any vague or heartless way. Even the lurid representations of hell
that formerly prevailed, were possibly better; for at least they
were sincere.
But it may be said that we have no details of the suffering incident to
Restoration, and that therefore such a warning cannot be used with
effect. I would say that neither have we any details of endless torment.
So the same argument applies. I would say further that we have very
meagre details of heavenly joy. But that does not prevent our belief in
it. Let it be clearly understood that a knowledge of details is not
necessary to belief. It is purely a matter of revelation. There may be
good reasons why details are not given. The fact is enough for the
present; details will be known in due time.
So the sermon I have referred to related wholly to worldly success, with
a mere glance at the possibility of a future life, which in reality
favored unbelief. The whole sermon struck me as a kind of religious
exploitation of materialism.
Just now I have met with a magazine article in which the phrase
"eternal death" is used. The author is an eminent Presbyterian minister,
whom I know well. I really could not understand his meaning. I wrote to
him asking whether he meant eternal extinction or eternal torment; or
whether he threw out the phrase loosely, leaving his readers to take
whichever view they chose. Here is his reply:
"I thank you for your kind reference to my articles on the Sunday School
Lesson, and note your question about the phrase, 'Eternal Death,' The
meaning of the phrase in my mind is largely determined by the meaning of
the corresponding phrase, 'Eternal Life.' In His use of the latter
phrase, our Lord evidently lays emphasis, not upon the thought of
duration, but upon that of quality. Eternal Life is a certain kind of
life which He gives to His people now. Similarly, Eternal Death is a
state in which people may exist even while they are in this world. It is
eternal in regard to duration in this sense, that it has no awakening;
its tendency is to persist forever. But that is not to say that God
cannot bring one from a state of eternal death into that of eternal
life. I do not know whether I have made myself clear, but it is somewhat
in this way that the matter presents itself to my mind."
So I am not really much the wiser, except that the reply tends to
confirm my opinion as to the ambiguous way in which the phrase is
often used.
In my view, such ambiguity is unfortunate in any case, but more
especially so when it is used with regard to our eternal future; and
even more so when it is used in an article, as in this case, avowedly
for children. Does it not lead directly to scepticism? And even if it
did not, is it not rather a cruel thing to put upon children the onus of
deciding a question of such tremendous importance? Would it not be
better to say candidly that we do not know?
To be sure, it may be said that the church is in a state of transition
on this question, and that it is better to wait for the church's final
decision. But in the meantime, and we do not know for how long, we are
sowing the seeds of scepticism. Besides; this avowed waiting for the
church's final decision may be only a pious pretense, because of want of
courage to declare honest conviction. I say so because I have spoken
with many ministers whose convictions are most decidedly contrary to the
orthodox doctrines; but there is a marked hesitation in publicly avowing
them. Is this expediency or cowardice? What we want is more charity to
treat this as an open question, so that men might explore the whole
realm of truth, and express their honest convictions without fear.
I see that the Chairman of the London Congregational Union deplores this
general lack of warning. He quotes the late Dr. Dale as saying, "No one
fears God now."
I have just heard an impassioned address, pleading for men and money to
evangelize the multitudes that are pouring into the great North West of
Canada. It was natural for the speaker to lay great stress on human
effort; but I thought he might have made a casual reference to the
Spirit of God as supreme; yet not a word did he utter on that topic. For
the most part he presented no higher incentive than the development of
character, and the building up of the empire on a foundation of
righteousness. But not a word did he utter in regard to the penalty of
sin after death on the part of the immigrants, if we fail to give them
the Gospel. In fact, there was no hint at all of immortality.
Yet the speaker is a Presbyterian minister who professes to believe in
eternal torment. But not a word did he say on that topic. Surely, he
might have found the supreme incentive there. It strikes me that a few
earnest words along that line would have had more effect than his entire
address. That is, if the doctrine of eternal torment is true, and if the
preacher believes it. But in all fairness, does not the conviction force
itself upon us that he does not believe it? Why, then, does he not say
so? Especially, why does he not say so when he is pleading for
missions? He is afraid, perhaps, of pains and penalties. Or he may try
to convince himself that it is wiser not to be too outspoken; that there
is a time for everything; that he might do more harm than good; and
so on.
But the truth is divine. No good can come of its suppression, especially
on a matter of such eternal moment. And how can we look for further
light, if we are unfaithful to the light we have? And what about the
character of duplicity we are fostering in our own souls in the name of
righteousness?
Listen to these scathing words of warning spoken by Caryle. He says:
"What is incredible to thee, thou shalt not at thy soul's peril attempt
to believe."
How will it fare with any church that acts so? Will not the light that
is in her be darkness? How can we expect to receive growing divine
illuminations if we affect to believe what we are convinced is untrue?
Would it not be wiser and safer to put all the orthodox Confessions on
the shelf--yes, on the top shelf--and take instead such a simple creed
as this: "We believe the Scripture to be the Word of God." Then, though
we might differ, we would not be afraid to avow, our convictions, and we
would not be accounted heretics. Let the dead past bury its dead.
There is another serious consideration. When one of the heathen is
converted, especially an intelligent one, how would it do to put into
his hands our orthodox Confessions of Faith? Would he not stumble at the
doctrine of endless torment? He would think reasonably, of course; not
like ourselves who are so dominated by tradition. Then, I say, would he
not stumble? If we tried to substantiate the doctrine, would it not be a
serious impediment to his faith? On the other hand, if we tried to
explain it away, would he not think us a lot of hypocrites?
Professor Faulkner, of Toronto University, said lately, and I think
truly, that one reason why theology is now under a cloud, is that men
are afraid of heresy. Surely, nothing could be more unfortunate than to
carry this spirit into missions.
We do hope that the missionary campaign lately launched will have great
success. Only we would like it if it had been launched on a higher
plane. It is worthy of the highest.
We are often told that there are a thousand millions of heathen; and our
creed teaches us that they are dropping into hell every? day. What could
be so compelling a motive in any missionary enterprise as to save some
of 'them from such a fate? But it is never mentioned. Is it believed?
Certainly, we profess to believe it. But do we? If we do, would it not
be the paramount, compelling motive? But instead of that, the main idea
is to convert the heathen from savagery to civilization. Make them good
citizens--that is the idea. Especially in regard to the influx of
immigrants, there seldom seems to be no higher motive than to make them
worthy of this great country. I have read just now an article in one of
our religious papers, which affects to be very earnest, but to me it
seems a mere outburst of quasi-patriotism.
Now is it not time to be honest? The trouble is, that men are afraid to
be. We have put the doctrine of endless torment in the Confession, both
of the Methodist and of the Presbyterian Churches, and we are afraid to
go back on it for fear of the pains and penalties of the church.
Moreover, we do not like to confess that for ages we were wrong; and it
seems disloyal to go back on the fathers who framed these confessions.
So we hang on to them in theory, but repudiate them in fact. Is it
not so?
Now, what is the compelling power in all missionary enterprise? To those
who believe in endless torment, surely the controlling motive is to save
the millions of heathen from such a fate. Both the Presbyterian and
Methodist Churches profess to believe in that doctrine. But the singular
thing is, that in neither church is it preached. The suspicion is, that
it is not believed. And this is more than a suspicion. I myself have
heard no sermon on hell, nor any definite reference to it, since I was a
child. A Methodist minister in Canada, largely in touch with his
brethren, told me lately most positively, that Methodist ministers do
not believe in endless torment. Many Presbyterian ministers with whom I
have spoken take the same ground.
Now, it is a hard thing to say that a doctrine of such eternal moment is
openly professed, yet inwardly repudiated. But if it were really
believed, would it not be preached--yes, preached morning, noon, and
night? For there are reckoned to be a thousand millions of heathen in
distant lands, besides all the other millions that we have here at home.
So all these heathen are supposed to be dropping by the thousand into
hell every day. And consider; there are a thousand millions of them, and
their number is continually increasing.
Would it not then be the main incentive to give these uncounted millions
the Gospel, in order to save them from such a doom? There may be other
considerations; but in all consistency, is not this the pressing one?
Yet not once have I heard this matter referred to in any late missionary
address. There was a little spiritual truth in them all. But the chief
motive presented was, to convert the heathen from savagery to
civilization. So the whole performance usually seemed to me not much
more than an exploitation of materialism.
Then, if ministers do not believe in endless torment, why do they not
say so? I can imagine two reasons. First, as I have said, there is the
fear of pains and penalties. A man may lose his position; and that is a
serious consideration. Then there is an unwillingness to go back on the
fathers who framed these creeds.
But do either or both of these reasons justify conscientious men in
suppressing a truth of such momentous importance? A thousand times, No!
Candor and honesty first; veneration for the fathers after. Would it not
conduce to real success if this matter were maturely and honestly
considered? It might arouse some amount of disunion and debate. But
would it not lift the whole tone of the missionary movement to a far
higher plane? And might we not believe that it would lead to more
sustained effort, and far greater success?
At all events, there is one matter well worth considering. How can the
Spirit of Truth lead us into larger visions of Truth if we willingly,
tamper with our most sacred convictions? Let us remember that there are
growing revelations. May we be of an open mind, and so in an attitude to
receive them!
It does seem to me that much of the activity of the evangelical churches
is in a large measure discounted by this want of candor. If earnest men
only knew how amenable the world would become to the Gospel, and what a
glad day they would usher in when they would candidly renounce the
doctrine of endless torment, I believe the majority would do it.
Surely, this would be one of the brightest days that has ever dawned on
the world.
Just now I have had a strange experience. On a certain Sabbath morning I
opened the Bible at random at the eleventh chapter of the Romans. That,
you know, is the great chapter about the Restoration of the Jews. I had
read some verses of that chapter, when there flashed on my mind the idea
that here we have a most profound argument for spiritual Restoration. I
had not been thinking at all of Restoration at the time; but here the
subject was forced upon me in quite a new light. As I read on, that
conviction grew. From the point of view of Restoration, the argument of
the apostle seemed coherent, profound, glorious. From any other
standpoint it seemed to me, and had always seemed, a mystery. All
mystery was cleared up now. The Restoration of God's favored people is
clearly foretold; but orthodoxy had never thought of locating the event
in the next life. But it has ever been a great tax on men's ingenuity to
show how the event can occur in this life. For we cannot ignore facts,
and facts are all against such a conception.
Even if in future generations the Jews who are then living are all
turned to God, as we believe they will, what about the millions and
millions who have died? The enigma receives a glorious solution when we
realize that the future life is to be the time of the Restoration. Oh,
yes; the prophecy will be fulfilled; God's ancient people will be
restored. Divine power and grace are not limited to this short epoch of
time; they are from everlasting to everlasting. Surely, here is a theme
for heaven's eternal songs!