Tag: Four Last Things

• Julian of Norwich, Universal Salvation, and “All Shall Be Well”

  A long-time reader of this blog emailed me recently with the following question about Julian of Norwich:

  Lately I’ve been re-reading the Showings of Julian of Norwich and am struck by the number of times Julian implies that all will be saved.  While one can infer from her revelations that she is indeed a universalist, she never comes right out and says so.  I’m interested in hearing your opinion on this question of Julian’s universalism. Are there any books there that might shed some light on this matter or are there any other resources you might suggest?

  Julian probably would not have thought of herself as a universalist, but that’s because the idea of universal salvation doesn’t really show up, at least in the English language, until the 1600s. But I suspect anyone with the depth of understanding of God-as-Radical-Love that Julian clearly enjoyed, would have been at the very least vexed by this question, as she described it (in chapter 32 of her long text):

  And I wondered a great deal about this revelation and reflected on our faith, wondering in this way: our faith is founded on God’s word, and it is part of our faith that we believe that God’s word will be kept in all things. And one article of our faith is that many will be damned… condemned eternally to hell, as Holy Church teaches me to believe. And considering all this, it seemed impossible to me that all manner of things should be well, as our Lord revealed at this time. And to this I received no other answer by way of revelation from our Lord God except this: ‘What is impossible to you is not impossible to me. I shall keep my word in all things, and I shall make all things well.’

  What a logical, sensible question. Julian is essentially saying:

  1. Part of being a person of faith is accepting the teachings of the Church;
  2. The Church teaches that not everyone will be saved, some will be damned;
  3. How can “all things be well” when some people are excluded from heaven?

  I wonder how many people in our generation gave up on church when they asked questions like this, at age 10 or 12, only to have the nun or Sunday School teacher tell them to be quiet. (If I’m describing you, please remember: the church is more than its ignorance).

  So was Julian universalist? My hunch is that she intuitively reacted against the idea that God “damns” people to hell. While she is not willing to explicitly reject or even criticize church doctrine in her book (considering she lived in an age when heretics were burned at the stake, can you blame her?), I take her at her word, and believe she really wanted not just to reject dogma, but to understand how her experience of God as limitless Love-with-a-capital-L fits in with the teachings of the church she loved so much.

  For what it’s worth, I rather suspect that Julian of Norwich, if she were alive today, would probably be very comfortable with the prevailing idea in Catholic eschatology in our time — that hell represents not so much a punishment meted down on those who anger God with their non-compliance, but rather signifies an existential reality for those who freely choose to reject Love.

  In this way of seeing things, in death we are given a choice that, in absolute freedom — beyond the limitations placed on us by the conditioning of our family history, upbringing, life circumstances etc. — we can consciously and freely choose to accept or reject union with God. To accept it is salvation, to reject it is hell.

  If you’d like to read a fascinating book that explores this trend in contemporary theology, check out Laudislas Boros’ The Mystery of Death: Awakening to Eternal Life, the latest edition of which features a wonderful introduction by Cynthia Bourgeault.

  Julian, compassionately troubled by the idea that some people could wind up in hell (for whatever reason), bluntly asks, how call all things be well if some people are damned? But it does seem that she accepts the idea that some people do become eternally separated from Divine Love. At one point she bluntly says this about the people she writes about, “I speak of those who will be saved, for at this time God showed me no others.” We can deduce two points from this: one, that she understands (and perhaps accepts) the prevailing idea in medieval Christianity (and often still too prevalent even today) that God is only going to save some people. But then she offers that sly qualifier: “…at this time God showed me no others.” You could almost hear Julian’s thoughts as she wrote this: perhaps God’s love and grace does extend beyond just those whom the church deems ‘worthy.’

  Regardless of how Julian does (or doesn’t) assent to the salvation theology of her day, it’s clear she struggles with the limitation as she understands it. “Considering all this, it seemed impossible to me that all manner of things should be well.” Admitting that she is not a scholar or a theologian, (she describes herself as “unlettered,” meaning not that she was illiterate but that she did not have academic training) Julian does not attempt to suss out a doctrinal or theological explanation of this conundrum. Instead, she basically has Jesus say “Trust me on this one.”

  And to this I received no other answer by way of revelation from our Lord God except this: ‘What is impossible to you is not impossible to me. I shall keep my word in all things, and I shall make all things well.’

  

  “The Deed”

  Earlier in this same chapter, she makes this interesting observation:

  There is a deed which the blessed Trinity will do on the last day, as it seems to me, and when the deed will be, and how it will be done, is unknown to all creatures under Christ, and will be until it is done. The goodness and the love of our Lord God wishes us to know that it will be; and his power and wisdom, through the same love, wishes to conceal and hide from us what it will be and how it will be done.

  This “deed,” which remains mysterious and not described in detail, is mentioned to Julian because Christ wants us to trust him.

  And the reason he wants us to know is because he wants us to be the more at ease in our souls and at peace in love, rejoicing in him and disregarding all the stormy tumults that might keep us from the truth. This is the great deed ordained by our Lord God from without beginning, treasured and hidden in his blessed breast, known only to himself, and through this deed he will make all things well.

  She ends with an interesting theological statement, linking the “deed” to the beauty and felicity of creation itself.

  For just as the blessed Trinity made all things from nothing, so the same blessed Trinity will make all well that is not well.

  “The Deed” is a secret, that will not be revealed until judgment day, but when that secret is revealed, then truly all will see and recognize that all shall be well. Since Christ never spills the beans on what this secret deed actually will be, Julian (and by extension, her readers) are left to wonder.

  Is the secret some hidden way that we can reconcile the experience of God as all-loving with the reality that not all of God’s creations accept God’s love?

  That we can find felicity and beatitude in this, even if someone we love dearly is among those who choose differently than we do?

  These are great questions, but Julian doesn’t answer, and seems to say that it’s a waste of time to speculate like this. Simply trust that God is Love, that we are free to accept or reject God’s love, and that even in this, we can trust that in the end, all shall be well.

  Is Julian a universalist? Probably not in the sense we would use the term: as someone who would flat out deny the existence of hell, leaving no possible fate for all human beings but heaven.

  The problem, of course, is that universalism has its own philosophical conundrum. On the one hand, universalism appeals to anyone who cannot reconcile a God who is all-forgiving, all-compassionate, and all-loving, with the existence of hell, especially as classically understood as a “lake of fire,” a place of eternal conscious torment and punishment.

  But the problem with simply rejecting hell is that it strips us away of our fundamental dignity as human beings: the freedom to say no. C. S. Lewis describes this succinctly in The Great Divorce:

  Never fear. There are only two kinds of people in the end: those who say to God, “Thy will be done,” and those to whom God says, in the end, “Thy will be done.” All that are in Hell, choose it. Without that self-choice there could be no Hell. No soul that seriously and constantly desires joy will ever miss it. Those who seek find. To those who knock it is opened.’

  True love will never force itself on someone who is unwilling to receive it. If God will only provide us with one possible way of embodying eternity, then God is not so much “Love” as “Power.” Hell is God’s vulnerability: God’s willingness to say “I will never force myself on you.”

  

  Never Separated from the Love of God

  As I have mentioned previously on this blog, no one expresses this more eloquently than the 7th century mystic St. Isaac the Syrian. In the 28th of his Ascetical Homilies, he muses on the question of heaven and hell.

  It would be improper…to think that sinners in Gehenna are deprived of the love of God. Love is the offspring of knowledge of the truth which, as is commonly confessed, is given to all. The power of love works in two ways: it torments those who have played the fool…but it becomes a source of joy for those who have observed its duties.

  Growing up in a liberal Protestant Church, my Sunday School teachers downplayed the idea that hell was a place of fire, or torment. Instead, they said, “Hell is separation from God.” But St. Isaac doesn’t see it that way. No one is ever “deprived” of God’s love. But we have a choice of whether we accept love or not. If we accept the freely given, unconditional, but never forced-upon-us Divine Love, what we will experience in eternity is transfiguring light. But if we turn away from it, the exact same love will be experienced as a scourging fire.

  For those who find any idea related to “hell” to be obscene or objectionable, St. Isaac’s ideas may not be acceptable. But if God is pure love, and it’s the nature of true love never to force itself on anyone, then there must be room in eternity for the dignity to say no. Maybe it won’t burn, like St. Isaac thought it would. Maybe it would just be some neutral experience. But I can’t help but think that an eternity built on rejecting love would be an eternity devoid of joy as well.

  The celebrated Catholic theologian and Cardinal, Hans Urs Von Balthasar, wrote a book with the optimistic title, Dare We Hope That All Shall Be Saved?  Frankly, I think it would be obscene not to hope that! The Catholic Church, when it declares somebody to be blessed or a saint, is in effect saying “We believe this person is in heaven.” But in over 2000 years, the church has never officially declared someone to be in hell — not Judas Iscariot, not Adolf Hitler, not Josef Stalin. Jesus told us, “do not judge” and I take that to mean, among other things, never to assume anyone has ultimately rejected grace and love. If Divine Love’s respect for free will means that God would allow a person to choose hell for all eternity, still we can hope that, in the end, everyone would find it in their hearts to say “yes” to grace and to love; and hell will just be the emptiest room in eternity.

  Maybe that’s the “deed” that Julian is alluding to. Because, then, all truly would be well.

  Finally — my reader asked, “Are there any books there that might shed some light on this matter or are there any other resources you might suggest?” Three come to mind; I’m not sure these authors would necessarily agree with my take on things, but I bet they would have some interesting insights into how Julian struggled with the theology of salvation.

  • Kerrie Hide, Gifted Origins to Graced Fulfillment: The Soteriology of Julian of Norwich — A study of Julian’s theology of salvation, situating her words in their historical context and considering their implications for our day.
  • Denys Turner, Julian of Norwich, Theologian — Turner, himself a respected theologian, argues that Julian’s contribution to theology deserves to be seen on a par with that of her male contemporaries like Bernard and Aquinas.
  • Julia A. Lamm, God’s Kinde Love: Julian of Norwich’s Vernacular Theology of Grace — A detailed study of Julian’s understanding of grace, showing how she presents an alternative view to the prevailing ideas of her time.

  Featured photo: Julian’s Cell, Norwich, England, July 2017. Photo by Fran McColman.

  September 20, 2020

  eschatology, Four Last Things, Heaven, Hell, judgment, Julian of Norwich, salvation, soteriology

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• Concerning Sheep, Goats, and the Unconditional Love of God

  I received this email today. Thought it might be worth exploring here on the blog.

  Hi Carl.
  Just listened to your two interviews and was blessed … You said in your interview that you didn’t like the, what I would call, the “us and them” attitude in evangelical circles like “I’m saved and you’re not.” And though I agree that we should not look down on others and be proud for we can’t claim any credit for being a follower of Christ, yet does not the Bible make a distinction between the “sheep and goats”? Also what about John 3:16  where it says that those who believe shall not perish? And John says a lot about the need to believe. And what about 1 John somewhere in chapter 3 where we are commanded to believe and love.
  It looks like I’m trying to KO you with a barrage of Bible verses as if I’m such an expert. I’m not, not even close. The purpose of my letter is a sincere attempt to find what God is saying in the scriptures. Maybe I’m missing something. Could you please help me? Evangelicals, when in a debate about who is saved and who is not will often quote the verse John 14:6 (I think) which in part says “no one comes to the Father but through Me”. Could you give your perspective on that verse?
  Like I said I’m not trying to debate you and prove you wrong. I value your opinions very much and thank you so much for your blogs.
  If you ever come to Perth, Australia please let me know.

  I’ll start with the easy part. I’d love to come to Perth sometime, and actually have begun conversation with a party about possibly coming to Australia in the future. So we shall see.

  Now, on to the heart of your letter. I can’t recall exactly what it was I said in the interview (forgive my feeble memory), but I do have concerns when Christians become too fixated on any kind of us vs. them way of thinking. Incidentally I see this in so many ways: Catholic versus Protestant, liberal versus conservative, contemplative versus non-contemplative, charismatic versus non-charismatic, emergent versus traditionalist, and on and on. And, of course, more relevant to the questions you’re asking: saved versus not-saved, Christian versus non-Christian, believer versus unbeliever.

  All of these divisions drive me straight back to Matthew 7:1-2, where Jesus said, “Do not judge, so that you may not be judged. For with the judgment you make you will be judged, and the measure you give will be the measure you get.”

  What I hear him saying is that, when we relate to the world with judgment, we end up experiencing judgment — if from no one else other than ourselves. To have a judgmental view of things seems to throw us back into the realm of thinking we have to somehow prove ourselves worthy of God’s grace. It reduces spirituality to a system of reward and punishment. God rewards us if we’re good, and punishes us if we’re not. Of course, what’s maddening about this is that different Christians have different theories about what constitutes behavior worthy of salvation:

  • Some say it’s being obedient to church teaching and reception of the sacraments;
  • Some say it’s having faith;
  • Some say it’s making a decision for Christ, accepting him as our Lord and savior;
  • Some say it’s totally predestined, but our behavior will reveal which side of God’s double predestination we fall on;
  • And I’m sure there are others that I’m leaving out (for those who are keeping score, the above represent traditionalist Catholic, Lutheran, Baptist and Calvinist theologies, respectively).

  So who’s right? Who’s wrong? What if by chance or circumstance I’m a member of the wrong church, and do the wrong things in order to be saved? Am I just out of luck? Is God really that capricious?

  And don’t all four of these theologies have this in common: that they put more emphasis on what I do than on what God does? What kind of theology is that, which pays more attention to human behavior than Divine acts?

  You’ve thrown a number of proof-texts at me, and certainly they add up to suggest that God really is in the business of sorting us into sheep and goats. But again, what about Matthew 7:1-2? What about Colossians 1:20, which says that through Jesus Christ “God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross.” ALL things — not just believers, or the sheep, or the born again — are reconciled to God through Christ, and this pleases God! Or Romans 11:32, which notes that “God has imprisoned all in disobedience so that he may be merciful to all.” In other words, we are all disobedient — even the sheep and the saved! But God is merciful to all. Not just some, not just the “elect,” but all. Or I Corinthians 15:22: “As all die in Adam, so all will be made alive in Christ.” There’s that word all again. Meanwhile, Luke 6:35 notes that God “is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked.”

  My point in quoting these verses is simply to show the limitations of proof-texting. I think it’s human nature to build a theological position out of whichever texts we find most appealing (or consistent with our existing world-view) and we conveniently ignore all the texts that challenge our perspective. This is how you can have both Catholics and Protestants appealing to Scripture to support their own respective theologies, as different as they are.

  I’m very much like Julian of Norwich in how I approach this whole question of the four last things (death, judgment, heaven and hell). Julian said that she trusted the teaching of the church, and since the church taught a cosmology that included hell, she accepted it. But in her visions, she bluntly asked Christ how all things could be well, if not everyone is saved. His response: basically that this is a profound mystery, but that “all shall be well.” Which of course, has become the most quoted line in Julian’s book. So I have no interest in arguing against church teaching about heaven and hell, I don’t consider myself a universalist — for the simple reason that if we have no say in what our relationship with God looks like, then we are not free. And love, it seems to me, requires freedom. And yet, if we do have the freedom to say no to God’s love, doesn’t that suggest both heaven and hell are real?

  So I am clear that I am not a universalist, and I am also clear that I believe salvation has nothing to do with earning God’s love (whether through being born again, or living a good life, or believing the right things or whatever). I also believe that, taken as a whole, the message of the Bible is a message of mercy rather than judgment, of love more than wrath, of healing and wholeness rather than damnation and perdition. I also see this in the writings of the mystics, again taken as a whole. Obviously, the mystics are like scripture: you can find many passages in the great mystical texts that will practically singe your neck-hairs with all their talk of wrath and damnation. But thankfully, that is not the final word, or the whole word.

  Back to whatever it was that I said in the interview. I think Christians need to be careful to obey Matthew 7:1-2. Which means that I believe part of the job description of being a Christian is to love my neighbors and not judge them. Does that mean I have no standards? Of course not. But moral and ethical standards are invitations to respond to the love of God with dignity, respect, and compassion — which means that when people fail to behave with love, dignity and compassion, our response ought to be one of grief and pity rather than rage and wrath. It all starts with love, and it all goes back to love. And therefore my job is to love everybody — no matter what they believe, how sinfully they might act, or how alien their values might be to my own. In fact, if I am serious about following Christ, then it is my job to seek to love precisely those whom I find it the most difficult to love.

  Here’s an interesting quote from one of the truly great mystics, St. Isaac the Syrian, who said “It would be improper…to think that sinners in Gehenna are deprived of the love of God. Love is the offspring of knowledge of the truth which, as is commonly confessed, is given to all. The power of love works in two ways: it torments those who have played the fool…but it becomes a source of joy for those who have observed its duties.” (Ascetical Homily 28) Here’s my rather un-sophisticated way of interpreting this idea: when we die, we are all immersed in the unconditional, lavish love of God. We all have a choice: to accept it or reject it. But God loves us unconditionally either way, and our acceptance of such love is in no way based on merit. The love is freely given, unconditional. To those who turn toward it, who accept it, Divine Love is transfiguring light. But those who reject it, who turn away, experience it as scourging fire.

  So I think Christians who get fixated on who’s saved and who’s not saved have really missed the point. The point is simply to accept God’s unconditional love, and then pass it on — unconditionally — to everyone, whether they deserve it or not. And of course, we are all sinners, we make mistakes, we fail to love as we are loved. But we can always repent and try, try again. Because the love given to us is unconditional. Our calling is simply to accept it, pass it on as best we can, and when we fall down, to (by the grace of that Love) get back up, and carry on.

  You asked about my understanding of John 14:6: “Jesus said to him, ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.’” I think this is an invitation more than a threat. Jesus is one with God (John 10:30) and God is love (I John 4:16). So read it this way: Love is the way, the truth and the life. No one comes to the Divine except through love.” If we get hung up on “but what about all the non-Christians?” we’ve missed the point of the verse. The Gospel of John is a fairly advanced manual of mystical theology that was originally written for those who already believe. We have taken this verse out of that context and used it as a weapon against non-believers for too long. We need to stop doing that. How should Christians relate to non-Christians, non-believers, “goats”? Our job as Christians is to love like God loves (unconditionally) and not to judge. Our marching orders, once again, are in the Sermon on the Mount. Incidentally, where Jesus says (also in the Sermon on the Mount) to “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matthew 5:48), read it in context: he is instructing us to love perfectly (unconditionally), just like God who sends the sun and the rain to both the sheep and the goats.

  Now, since my blog is devoted to mysticism and contemplation, let me finish by saying that I think contemplative spirituality is the spirituality that places unconditional love higher than any kind of reward/punishment understanding of the Gospel. That’s not to say that contemplation equals universalism, for the reasons I’ve already stated. It’s simply a question of emphasis. It’s hard to love someone unconditionally when we’re busy haranguing them to change and be more like us. So the contemplative perspective is to simply love everyone as best we can, and trust that the Holy Spirit will help all of us (including ourselves) to change in the ways we need changing. We all need conversion, we all need repentance. But isn’t it easier to grow in grace when we’re surrounded by love? This is why I think our job is really to love each other, as best we can. That creates the best possible environment for the Holy Spirit’s work which is the call to repentance and conversion.

  So love, as best you can. And always remember how deeply and lavishly we are loved by God. No matter what.

  Disclosure: if you follow the link of a book mentioned in this post and purchase it or other products from Amazon.com, I receive a small commission from Amazon. Thank you for doing so — it is the easiest way you can support this blog.

   

   

  September 19, 2013

  Christianity, Death, Four Last Things, Heaven, Hell, Isaac the Syrian, judgment, Julian of Norwich, Universalism

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