I've been finding that with the whole study concerning universalism, I've had to face issues from two different angles: the philosophical, and the existential, and that I've had to resolve them in almost opposite fashions. One the one hand, I just can't philosophically hold to any sort of exclusivism (except perhaps, reluctantly, to an annihilationist account), while existentially I've had to face the question of the possibility that I myself would be one of the damned.
Philosophically, I cannot see what the necessary connection would be between accepting Christ and salvation; I just can't conceive of salvation which doesn't involve fundamentally an change in being, and there seem to be other ways in which this could be mediated than through an explicit acceptance of Christ's work. Now, it may be that Christ's work has been actually necessary for the possibility of salvation (or at least the most fitting way in which God could have accomplished His goals); however, what is the link which leads from explicit acceptance to sanctification? The whole business commonly heard in Evangelical circles concerning this seems to be that "You need to accept what's been given to you for it to do any good; leaving an inheritance in the bank doesn't help you any." But why must an explicit acceptance of Christ be the only way to get this inheritance?
The only answer that I can see is that God has contingently willed it. This is possible, but I am having issues understanding how this could be a just method; I can't escape from the idea that this is a "secret password" soteriology, a kind of gnosis which leads to an enlightenment. Alternatively, perhaps God is just pulling all the strings, and using the explicit acceptance as a fitting marker for those He has elected; but I have yet to hear a coherent explanation of this which does not lead to double predestination, and any way in which a double predestination (other than Barth's) does not make God into a being worse than the devil, or to introduce amorality into the foundation of the universe.
So, why would we be commanded to preach to gospel if others could be saved apart from it? I can think of three reasons. First, the whole notion that "we must preach the gospel because otherwise no one will be saved" I find to be too utilitarian; isn't there a dimension to preaching which is simply rejoicing in what God has done, without having to worry about results? Couldn't simply glorification of God in God's grace and goodness be reason enough to preach?
Second, an analogy which I have heard before in this regard is that there is a building on fire, and we are the ones warning everyone to get out. It seems to me that this warning is still perfectly effective and needed, even if some people with different knowledge (perhaps they know about a fire in a different room, or an impending earthquake) also are warning people, and if some are sauntering out the doors, naturally exiting even if they do not know about the problem. Of course, there are places where this analogy breaks down (it doesn't really provide for sin, most importantly), but the point is this: preaching the gospel could still be important even if God has sovereignly provided other ways in which people could accept his grace through Christ.
Third, even if other people could ultimately be saved (that is, "saved" as in participating in the new creation from the non-smoking section) apart from hearing the gospel, they would not necessarily experience the fullness of salvation in this life otherwise (where salvation here would be the sancitification and healing of our human natures). There would be a reason to preach what Jesus has done and how He has lived, a living icon of our God, for this would teach others to walk likewise.
So, on the one hand, there are these philosophical issues, which I have trouble getting around. On the other hand, I've been wrestling with the following: I can only trust God as much as other people can; in effect, we are all isomorphic before God. If others can hope for God's mercy and be denied, so can I; if others can seek God with all their heart and be frustrated, so can I. No reason seems solid enough, no argument complete enough to make my faith certain, and I must admit that I have no idea what the "witness of the Spirit" is supposed to be. On a personal level, then, I've had to ask myself the question: what if God really were to damn me? All arguments aside, I've had (to start) to accept that whoever God damns, God damns in a perfectly good and just manner in a way that glorifies Him. I can hope that this would be nobody, but even if it weren't, anger at God for this is incoherent. So, I guess I have to trust that God will make things plain to me if this is His will, and if He does not and so damns me for this, it will be just, even if I can't see how.
5 comments:
I think if I were to firmly accept a universalist view, I would go with Talbot's because of his thoroughness with his treatment of scripture. Hell and scriptures about hell still have a place in his restorationist theology.
On the restorationist model, acceptance is still necessary--it just is always a possibility. I'm wondering if therefore restorationism is vulnerable to your anti-gnostic criticism.
Days I don't talk like I agree with Talbot I talk like I agree with I. H. Marshall.
Oh yeah, and I was going to say that on Talbot's model as far as I understand it, being in Hell is still not a good thing, so we have reasonable motivation to preach fervently the gospel to living human beings, exhorting them to avoid Hell altogether.
To say nothing of experiencing the fullness of the gifts of the Spirit and the life of the Church in this life.
I think that Talbott's Restorationism is basically my Purgatory; that is, some place one does not want to be that has a redemptive rather than retributive purpose. So, I don't think that it feels the full force of my anti-gnostic criticism; everyone will get the knowledge they need, though some may be fortunate enough to get it sooner. My contention is that otherwise, people are damned for ignorance rather than sin, and that correct theological knowledge is the only way out, which is selectively given.
I'm still thinking through Talbott's position. I think that he and Marshall talk past each other sometimes, though I have not read Talbott's rejoinder yet.
I don't think it's appropriate to consider Talbott's Hell Purgatory. Purgation is a process of final sanctification necessary for one's entering Heaven or being with God forever in the new heavens & new earth. It serves a cleansing/sanctifying role.
A Restorationist's Hell is still a state of separation from / rebellion to God. Being there doesn't do you any good, and you don't have to be there if you accept Christ's atonement. Purgation (if it is anything at all) is a process all saints must go through to complete the process of sanctification. It doesn't replace Christ's atonement.
Maybe I'm mixed up on my understanding of one or the other, or exaggerating the resemblance. However, it seems to me that the Restorationist Hell is a Purgatory with a lower threshold for exiting; it provides a motive for accepting Christ (something which it must necessarily do, as a place alienated from God), thereby playing a redemptive role in bringing the sinner to salvation. If this is right at least, then the rest may just be semantics.
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