The Evangelical Universalist Forum

Toward a Unified Field Theory of the Spiritual Universe 3

*This series of blogs suggests that the doctrine of ultimate reconciliation—the idea that God will fully accomplish His purpose of reconciling the whole world to Himself—can serve as a kind of “unified field theory” of the spiritual universe, one that makes sense of many truths about God, ourselves, and the meaning of life. Part 3 is the conclusion of the series but not the end of the story—I believe that as our understanding grows, we will see more ways that God’s truths are in complete harmony with one another.
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The whole question of faith vs. works is a huge issue that cannot be adequately resolved with the traditional view. Luther’s discovery of the doctrine that “The just shall live by faith” ignited the Reformation, but may also have caused us to lose sight of the tremendous emphasis that the Bible puts on works. Luther even rejected the epistle of James because it talks about the necessity of works. The Bible does require us to have faith, but it also has a great deal to say about the importance of works. For example, the basis for judgment in Matthew 25 (a passage often cited to prove eternal damnation) is works—how one treats the poor, the sick, and the prisoner. In the restoration view, there is no conflict between faith and works; God calls on us to exercise faith and to practice good works, and He will figure out all the complexities of how they work together and how our lives are to be evaluated.

Another thing that doesn’t make sense about the traditional view is the idea that this short wisp of life on earth should determine our entire eternal destiny, that our stumbling around and bad choices and rebellion in this life consign us to an eternity of suffering in the next. How can any system of justice require infinite punishment for finite sin, even if it is against an infinite Being? We’re told that anyone who rejects God in this life will continue to harden his heart and reject God for all eternity. But is that really true, or is it just an attempt to make us swallow the idea that it’s fair to allow such a person to go to hell?

We all agree that deathbed conversions are possible—like that of the thief on the cross. So does God woo us and keep calling us to Himself until the moment we take our last breath, and then set His face against us with implacable wrath? Does it make sense that the moment of physical death marks the last opportunity we will ever have to come to Christ? What if a person died and met the real Jesus and wanted to enter into a relationship of love with Him? Would God say no? The doctrine of ultimate restoration recognizes that life is a continuum and that God’s mercy endures forever—not just until we die—and that He will continue to reach out to us in love and grace until He has not just ninety-nine but the whole flock.

There are yet other inconsistencies in the doctrine of eternal damnation. Carried to its logical conclusions, it can produce horrendous results. If there is a likelihood, or even a small chance, that a child might grow up to reject Christ and suffer everlasting punishment, then it is better to kill the child in infancy before he has a chance to heap condemnation on himself. For a mother to kill her baby is abhorrent to us, but if the traditional view is true, it would be a logical and loving thing to do.

Another problem with the traditional view is the concept of “the age of accountability.” Although Calvin spoke of “reprobate infants” and Jonathan Edwards said that they would be held over hell in the tongs of God’s wrath, most Christians are repulsed by the idea of tiny babies as being wicked to the core and deserving of everlasting punishment. Yet every evil person started out as a baby; at what point was he transformed from a confused little child (perhaps a victim of abuse himself) into an evil adult, fully responsible for his own actions? The traditional view has no good definition for the elusive “age of accountability,” whether a chronological age or some kind of “moral” age at which the individual understands sin enough to be guilty of it. In the restoration view, there is no need for an age of accountability, beyond which an individual is responsible for his own sin and has to suffer eternally if he fails to consciously turn to Christ for salvation. Each human being is treated by God with absolute fairness, infinite wisdom, and infinite love.

There is yet another serious problem[1] with the traditional view of hell, which asserts that some people (whoever they are and however they are identified) are forever separated from God, whether by eternal suffering apart from His presence or by eventually ceasing to exist. There are thousands of promises of restoration—both near-future and far-future—in the Old Testament, but it is not clear to whom the promises apply or when they will be fulfilled. Each passage needs to be considered individually, but there are some general questions that must be asked. What should the original hearers believe regarding promises that are not fulfilled in their lifetimes? Should they believe that they themselves will somehow experience the fulfillment of the promise (by being raised back to life in the future), or that it refers to some general fulfillment for the people of God as a community, not necessarily to include any particular individuals?

If the latter, then the promises are essentially meaningless for the original hearers themselves. It might be comforting to think that your great-great-…grandchildren or your nation as a body will experience restoration, but it has little personal relevance. If, on the other hand, the fulfillment of the promises is to be experienced by the original hearers, will it be *all *of the hearers or only some of them? Promises of hope and redemption were often given when the people of God were in a state of rebellion; if the promises applied only to those who were faithful at the time, then those who could expect to see redemption would be few indeed.

The last twenty-seven chapters of Isaiah, for example, are filled with promises of the restoration of Israel. Yet the biblical record shows that the history of Israel is filled with sin and rebellion. The faithful ones are the few, the remnant. Do the promises of restoration apply only to the faithful few? Do many, if not most, of the chosen race (not to mention the rest of humanity) go by the wayside because they rebelled against God in this life? Or does God plan to yet restore even those who died without honoring Him? It seems to me that God is giving hope not just to those who manage to stand strong for Him, but even to those who stumble through this life in sin and wandering.

Finally, if everyone’s eternal destiny depends upon accepting Christ in this life, then we have no business doing anything but sharing the gospel day and night for our whole lives. Everything else is frivolous. How can we allow ourselves a moment of rest or fun when people are rushing into hell and will be there forever and ever? Imagine what life would be like if we actually lived as if we believed that every person who is without Christ is in a train rushing toward a cliff that plunges into an abyss of never-ending horror. Between the pressure and the guilt, life would be unbearable—for us and for our evangelistic targets.

If the doctrine of eternal damnation doesn’t make sense to those who know the Lord, perhaps the reason is because it is nonsense. Maybe we should stop trying so hard to convince ourselves to believe it and start examining our presuppositions to see if they are true. [See “Presuppositions and Interpretations," Parts 1, 2, and 3 ([url]Presuppositions and Interpretations, Part 1 of 3 [Presuppositions and Interpretations, Part 2 of 3), [Presuppositions and Interpretations, Part 3 of 3)] While it is true that we can never comprehend God fully, I think He can help us to know Him accurately. Our knowledge is necessarily incomplete, but it doesn’t have to be faulty. There are many paradoxes in the Christian faith that Gods wants us to just accept and hold in tension, but I don’t think He asks us to believe something that our very being cries out against—that violates every shred of reason and compassion and justice in us. If we can get beyond the “proof texts” (that supposedly prove eternal damnation) and look at the whole scope of Scripture, I believe we will find the true heart of God, and our hearts will be able to rest in that truth.

My own experience of encountering the beauty of ultimate restoration was more gradual than that of Thomas Talbott but very similar in outcome:

As Owen Gingerich (former professor of astronomy and of the history of science at Harvard) has said of science, and of theories of origins in particular, it’s not about *proof *but about coherence. We cannot *prove *what happened at the beginning of time; we did not witness it, we cannot reproduce it. We can, however, try to come up with explanations that are coherent—that best fit the facts and make them hang together. Similarly, we cannot prove what will happen at the end of time and in the afterlife; we haven’t experienced it and we can’t simulate it. But we can take what we observe and what has been revealed in Scripture and use our reason to try to come to an under¬standing that is coherent—that best unifies what we know about God, the world, and ourselves. All in all, the doctrine of ultimate restoration is a far more unified system than the traditional gospel with eternal damnation or annihilation. It offers a framework that ties together many paradoxes and seeming contradictions. It is true to Scripture and thoroughly satisfying to our sense of reason, justice, and compassion. It’s elegant. It’s biblical. It’s beautiful. Is it not true?


[1]The passage that brought this problem to my attention is Luke 13:34–35: “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing! Look, your house is left to you desolate. I tell you, you will not see me again until you say, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.’”

The words *you *or *your *are used nine times in these two verses. I started wondering, Whom is Jesus addressing? Who is *you*? First Jesus speaks to “you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you,” which would seem to mean those who are opposed to God and His messengers. They are not willing to be gathered by Jesus, and their house is left desolate. But then in the same breath, He says, “You will not see me again until you say, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.’” Now who is *you*? Jesus seems to be saying that those who have rejected Him will one day receive and bless Him.

I have not solved the problem of who Jesus is talking to or about in this passage, but thinking about it raised a whole category of questions regarding the promises in the Bible, particularly in the Old Testament. Do the promises of restoration apply to the original hearers (if only some, which ones) or to their descendants or to the nation of Israel as an entity? As you read God’s promises, especially in the prophets, think about how extensive He intended them to be. Consider a few examples:

Comfort, comfort my people,
says your God.
Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,
and proclaim to her
that her hard service has been completed,
that her sin has been paid for,
that she has received from the Lord’s hand
double for all her sins.
A voice of one calling:
“In the desert prepare the way for the Lord;
Make straight in the wilderness
a highway for our God.
Every valley shall be raised up,
every mountain and hill made low;
The rough ground shall become level,
the rugged places a plain.
And the glory of the Lord will be revealed,
and all mankind together will see it.
For the mouth of the Lord has spoken.”
(Is. 40:1–5)

You have burdened me with your sin
and wearied me with your offenses.
I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions, for my own sake,
and remembers your sins no more. (Is. 43:24b–25)

But Zion said, “The Lord has forsaken me,
the Lord has forgotten me.”
“Can a mother forget the baby at her breast
and have no compassion on the child she has borne?
Though she may forget,
I will not forget you!
See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands.” (Is. 49:14–16)

I read both Part 2 and 3. :slight_smile:

Altogether, the whole series of posts is beautiful, Diane :slight_smile:

You’re right, UR does makes a lot more sense, and is a lot more coherent. :slight_smile:

You should write a book about this. :wink:

Blessings to you and thanks for sharing :slight_smile:

Matt