And if the fate of extinction would thus cause everlasting regret how
much more would the knowledge that our friends are in everlasting
torment. Surely our knowledge of such a fate would be unendurable. Would
there not be everlasting distress in that world of joy? In fact it would
be no world of joy. We shall have the same nature then as now. It will
be only ennobled and purified. Certainly sympathy--which is one of the
noblest of our feelings--will be more tender and intense than now.
George Eliot said that she estimated her entire moral condition by her
capacity of sympathy. We may imagine then the horror of the situation if
we have to think of our friends as being in everlasting torment.
Surely this is a strong argument for Restoration. We might endure, and
even rejoice in, a mild degree of suffering on the part of friends, if
we knew that such was a necessary process of purification, and that by
and by they would rise to eternal happiness. But to think of them as
being forever in torment--inflicted for punishment, and not for
purification--would be unspeakable torture. We have indeed heard of
zealots who taught that the saved would even rejoice in the sufferings
of the damned, as the effect of God's glorious justice. For the credit
of humanity we would believe that such lurid representations were rare,
and but the product of temporary excitement, or perhaps a mistaken zeal
for orthodoxy.
* * * * *
I was lately staying at a Presbyterian Manse. The minister was from
home, but his wife engaged me in several topics of conversation. Among
other things she instanced the case of a family some members of which
were saved, and some were lost; and she asked me if there was any means
of explaining away the agony of such a separation. Thinking she might
not be ready for a thorough discussion of the subject, I tried to
dismiss it by some casual remark. But it would not do; again and again
she returned to the point. At length I stated plainly that I did not
believe in endless torment, or eternal separation. At once, and with
evident relief, she responded that such was her own view.
Now I think that case is typical of thousands and thousands more. They
have been brought up in the orthodox idea of eternal torment; it is
enshrined in their thought by the sacredness of childish association;
they have the conception that it is an evidence of soundness in the
faith. But by and by, when they begin to think, their heart rebels; the
idea hitherto accounted true seems opposed to every humane instinct, and
much more opposed to that mercy that is from everlasting to everlasting.
There is thus a sea of conflicting ideas, and they know not which way to
turn. My hope is, that when they read these pages they will see that a
large pan of the church has been for a long time under a dark cloud of
error, and that their humane instinct is but a dim reflection of
Eternal Love.
The lady referred to told me that her husband's view and hers do not
agree. It is his idea, she said, that the point of view of the saved
will gradually be uplifted until it coincides with God's, and that then
they will be able to contemplate the tortures of the damned with perfect
satisfaction! And this is orthodoxy! O, for the day when this dark pall
will be lifted from the heart of the world!
* * * * *
Thus men have distorted the finest feelings of their nature that they
might view with complacency the eternal torments of the damned. They
really believed, or tried to believe, that such was God's feeling and
attitude; and to that divine ideal they felt that they must aspire. It
was surely hard work, and would naturally issue in a degree of
sanctimoniousness and unreality. Yet it was necessary, if the doctrine
of eternal torment were true. But the moment that doctrine is seen to be
untrue, what a change of ideal! Then it is discerned that all this
hardening process is opposed to the best that is in human nature, and
utterly contrary to the character of God. We can never estimate the
spiritual loss that it has been to mankind to have had such ideas of the
Infinitely Merciful One.
* * * * *
When it is once discerned that there is no endless torment, but that
suffering in the next life is a divinely appointed means of reformation,
how the mind is enlarged in the contemplation of the wisdom, power, and
love of God! Yea, and what an uplift, and what a new direction, is given
to our ideas of human perfection and blessedness! If there were nothing
else, we have surely here a strong argument for final Restoration.
Eternal blessedness is consonant with our nature; and though details of
it are not revealed, it is reasonable to believe that it will ultimately
be attained. But eternal suffering is abnormal and repugnant. Especially
is it so as we rise in the moral scale. As a worthy ultimatum it cannot
be entertained. It is far more reasonable to believe that under the
perfect government of God, sin and all its resulting pain will finally
be done away.
Further; it would be hard to find a case of such utter wickedness as not
to have some mixture of good as well. That gives us the reasonable hope
that ultimately the good will triumph. And sometimes we find great
goodness mixed with great evil. Just now I notice a very affecting
report in the newspaper of a criminal in whom there must have been a
wonderful mixture of good and bad. He was convicted of a serious crime,
and sentenced to three years in the penitentiary. When he was leaving
the city under arrest, and being taken on board the train that was to
convey him to the place of confinement, a number of his late companions
in crime appeared on the railway platform. They had come to bid him
good-bye. And it was no formal leave-taking. With tears and sobs they
flung their arms about his neck, and kissed him. So affecting was the
scene that the policeman in charge was utterly broken down. But the man
had to go to prison; and the chances are that the evil influences of
prison life will dissipate much of that extraordinary goodness which
must have been in him to develop so much affection.
Be that as it may, the question must suggest itself to every thoughtful
mind, "Where will that man go should he die in the meantime?" He is far
too good for the world of woe; yet he is not fit for the better world
until his criminal propensities are eliminated. How reasonable it is to
believe in--we might say what a moral necessity there is for--a process
of development of the good, and elimination of the evil. On the
principle that what is good will survive, and that the evil will be
extinguished, we can hope for nothing less. And when we remember that
all men, and all conditions, and all worlds, are under the control of
Him whose love is from everlasting to everlasting, we may believe that
such a man's final destiny is the inheritance of the saints.
Another argument is derived very naturally from the case of departed
friends whose spiritual condition was doubtful. Have we not known of
acquaintances who passed away, of whose spiritual condition we could
have no well grounded assurance? But the moment they were gone we became
charitable, glossed over their faults, and hoped for the best. Would it
not be a far more reasonable thing to do, to imagine them as having
passed into some purifying process, from which they would emerge in due
time? In the case of many we can believe that such a purifying process
might involve no great suffering; and we could endure the thought of it
when we believed in its glorious issue. In fact we would become more
like God Himself, who is inflicting pain every day with a view to moral
perfection by and by.
Well do I remember spending an evening with a personal friend. He was a
man of sterling character. In his ordinary demeanor, however, he was a
very John Bull of a man; you would not think there was a particle of
sentiment in his whole composition. During our conversation, reference
was made to the case of departed friends whose spiritual condition was
doubtful; and before I knew, my friend utterly broke down and wept. No
doubt he was thinking of one in such a case. I could not at that time
offer him the consolation of the larger hope; and it is doubtful if with
his education he could have accepted such consolation. What a solace it
will be, when we can think of departed friends in whom the work of grace
was manifestly very incomplete--possibly not begun--as having gone, not
into a state of hopeless, everlasting torment--but as having passed into
a state where the work of grace will be completed.
But speaking of the reformatory process, there is one circumstance that
may seem to indicate that it may be very long. I refer to the fact that
Satan has been so long incorrigible. I take him of course to be a
conscious personality. In the Word of God I suppose there are a hundred
references to him as a person. If you have any doubt on that point look
up the references, and I think you will be convinced.
Now, since his temptation of Adam, and we know not how long before,
Satan has been persevering in a course of evil. Does not that fact seem
to indicate that sinners must have a long period of suffering in the
next life before they are reclaimed, if they ever are?