The Universalist Christians Association: Essays

Universalism an Utterance of the Heart

Steve Jones

Introduce the topic of universalism and many Christians will point out instantly that it contradicts Holy Scripture. And when one peruses its pages, it may appear so. But one thing is undeniable by anyone whose heart goes out to others: We intuitively hope universalism is true.
The kind-hearted and merciful wish that God might finally bring all humanity into the circle of His grace. If they could, they would decree the redemption of every person on the planet. They would see the ultimate reform of each sinner, were the choice theirs.
And yet, the love, mercy and compassion of such souls falls far below God's. The span between heaven and earth is the span between our love and His. Man's mercy falters; God's mercy "endures forever." (1 Chron.
16:34) Man's love wears thin; God, on the other hand, IS love. (1 John 4:8) Man's compassion extends just so far; God has compassion "over all that he has made." (Psalm 145:9)
That being the case, how can we assert that God will save fewer — much, much fewer, in fact — than the finite mercy of man would save? Does perfect love redeem a smaller company than would imperfect love?
Many at this point flee for refuge to the inscrutable ways of God. The Lord's thoughts are not our thoughts, they remind us. He does not always act according to His creatures’ logic. This is true, of course.
But the common rebuttal leaves us with a baffling incongruity. Consider the tendency of humanity: The less godly a man, the narrower his mercy and love. The godlier a man, the broader, the more liberal his. Then consider God, the one whose character the godly emulate. Inexplicably, when love and mercy reach the zenith of perfection, the trend appears to reverse itself. The scope of redemptive mercy constricts. Most of his creatures cease being objects of mercy and become objects of wrath instead.

Isn't there something wrong with this theological picture? Flawed mercy would rescue all. Impeccable mercy will not. In light of such an enigma, we can't help but ask: Could it be that the larger portion of the Christian tradition has missed the mark on this subject?
Some will argue that although God wishes to restore all people, He will not violate our free will. How this free will becomes so invincible, so able to wear down omnipotence, remains to be explained. And why God's action against it would be a "violation" — as if He is subject to a higher law than Himself — is also unanswerable.
God is able to remove the heart of stone and replace it with a heart of flesh. He can work in us to will and to do according to His good pleasure. What human father would hesitate to "violate" the free will of a son who suddenly chooses to dash toward traffic? God is the parent of us all. (Mal. 2:10) We are his offspring. (Acts 17:28) Would He then not do everything in His power — a power that knows no bounds — to lead us away from ultimate destruction?
There is something intuitive about our desire to expand redemption beyond orthodox boundaries. This is significant. In the first chapter of Romans, Paul expresses a belief that all humans have a law written on the heart. They have an inner monitor that informs them of such concepts as love, mercy, equity. Could it be that this principle is at war with the words of theologians and preachers? Might this explain the unrest of so many? At this point, many will object. Rightly so, they will tell us that an ardent desire for something doesn't make it true. The church, they insist, must always be guided by Scripture only.
But there is one example of a doctrine that Christians have embraced on the basis of intuition, not the Bible. It's the belief that all who die in infancy are saved. The near unanimous voice of the Church has shouted down centuries of belief in infant damnation. And this without a line of Scripture. The basis is our inner conviction. The concept of babies in hell is abhorrent to our sensibilities. The Church has, accordingly, applied universal redemption to those dying below "the age of accountability."
There is also an inward pressure to make allowances for the heathen. The shrinking of our world has made brought us into contact with people outside the Christian realm, making it more difficult than ever to sustain the old view. So unpalatable is the thought of entire cultures and civilizations perishing that even evangelicals are looking for ways to get around it. There is considerable talk about how God can regenerate a pagan who "lives up to the light he has." It may be a matter of time before a new notion of heathen salvation joins infant salvation as an intuitive doctrine of the heart.
The extent of redemption merits rethinking by the Church. Its implications are too great for us to glibly underline a proof text and proclaim certainty. We should grapple with this, think out its consequences with a searching heart and mind.
After undertaking such a work, many may find the old view vindicated. That is fine — it may, in fact, be true. Let everyone be persuaded in his or her own mind. But hopefully, the traditionalists’ studies will bring them closer to explaining the perplexities that pile up when we look at existence from their perspective.

A Simple Argument for Universalism

Tom Talbott

Suppose that Christ commanded that we love our enemies and love our neighbor even as we love ourselves because such love is an essential condition of blessedness or supreme happiness. If this is true, as I believe it is, then God could not possibly bring blessedness to one person without also bringing it to all.

Here is why. If I truly love my daughter even as I love myself, then her interests and my own are so tightly interwoven as to be logically inseparable: any good that befalls her is then a good that befalls me, and any evil that befalls her is likewise an evil that befalls me. I could never be happy, for example, knowing that my daughter is suffering or in a miserable condition--unless, of course, I could somehow believe that all will be well for her in the end. But if I cannot believe this, if I were to believe instead that she had been lost to me forever--even if I were to believe that, by her own will, she had made herself intolerably evil--my own happiness could never be complete. For I would always know what could have been, and I would always experience this as a terrible tragedy and an unacceptable loss, one for which no compensation is even conceivable. Is it any wonder, then, that Paul could say concerning his unbelieving brothers and sisters whom he loved so much: "For I could wish that I myself were accursed and cut off from Christ for the sake of my people" (Romans 9:3)? From the perspective of his love, in other words, Paul's own damnation would be no worse an evil, and no greater threat to his own happiness, than the eternal damnation of his loved ones would be.

God could make us "happy" whilst our loved ones suffered in hell only in two possible ways: either by concealing from us the magnitude of the tragedy (blissful ignorance), or by giving us a callous and stony heart, so that we no longer truly loved those who were lost. Both of these possibilities, however, are incompatible with true blessedness. So in the end, it is logically impossible for God to bring blessedness to one person without also bringing it to all.

Is God Just?

Craig A. Hopseker

Recently I attended a lecture to learn about Islam. There was much with which I agreed and much I appreciated. I particularly appreciated their deep devotion to God. However, there was one concept with which I could not agree. Muslims believe that one of God’s characteristics is that of being just. By this they mean that he rewards the good and punishes the evil. Most Christians hold the same concept, but I do not. While the concept of justice may have its place in society, it has no place in divinity.

I believe Jesus had a greater understanding of God than perhaps any other man. In turning to his parables, I believe that Jesus teaches us that God is not just. In the parable of the laborers in the vineyard (Matthew 20: 1-16) the landowner (God) is not just, he is generous. In the parable of the prodigal son (Luke 15:11-32) the elder brother is quick to point out the injustice of his younger brother’s being welcomed back home. But the father’s love and compassion for both his sons outweighs any concerns for justice. When the woman caught in adultery was brought before Jesus (John 8:1-11) he came to her defense, even though the just law of Moses would have had her stoned. And as Jesus hung on the cross, he did not call down justice upon his persecutors, but forgiveness (Luke 23: 34).

Justice would have us say, “An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.” But Jesus said, “Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also.” (Matthew 5: 39) Justice would have us do to others as they have done to us. But Jesus said, “In everything do to others as you would have them do to you; for this is the law and the prophets.” (Matthew 7:12) He also said, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven: for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous.” (Matthew 5: 44-45) Justice must have its roots in judgment. But Jesus said, “Do not Judge.” (Matthew 7: 1) All this indicates to me a God of love and mercy; not justice.

Of course there are other passages where supposedly Jesus speaks of eternal punishment (Matthew 25: 46). How can we explain those? I personally believe that in their attempts to spread their new religion, some early Christians compromised the teachings of Jesus to make them more acceptable to people who could not accept the absolute mercy, love, and grace of God. Recalling again the story of the prodigal son, how many of us see the reactions of the elder brother as perfectly reasonable? People don’t like grace. They want just retribution for sin!

But God’s ways are not our ways. In A Course In Miracles; Jesus says, “God does not believe in retribution. His Mind does not create that way. He does not hold your “evil” deeds against you.” (Text, page 32) Given this and the overwhelming evidence provided in Biblical scripture, I cannot believe that God punishes sin.

I believe that too much hatred, too much violence, and too much judgment has been perpetrated in the name of justice and righteousness. If God is just, it is not in the sense that man would normally think. God knows that our wickedness, no matter how horrendous in time, has no effect in eternity. He therefore justly sees all his children as perfectly innocent and loves them accordingly.

God the Father

Joe Hauptmann

I was talking with a young man at the gym. He was expecting his first child. He said that his minister told him that until he was a father, he would not truly understand what Jesus meant when he spoke of our Heavenly Father. As I reflect on my role in the lives of my own two sons and the love I feel for those two incredibly different boys, I find myself agreeing with the minister. A parent’s love for a child cannot truly be described, only experienced. I love them both equally, but the manifestation of this love is shaped by their individual personalities.
My relationship with one son has been far more turbulent than with the other. One child may seem to get more attention than the other not because the love is greater, but because the need is greater.
For a child to grow, a parent must know when to step in and when to step away. Sometimes a parent will stand aside and let a child skin a knee. We all know that trying and failing is sometimes more important than succeeding. We want our children to learn and to grow. As human parents we are fallible. Sometimes we step in when we should back off; less often we back off when we should have stepped in. Life is full of judgment calls.
Some children learn at an early age to heed their parents’ warnings. Others are natural “stove touchers”. They don’t listen until they have experienced some consequences. However, there are some parental actions that I think we can all agree on.
What would we think of a parent who would let a child run into the path of a car? Would we accept the explanation that he had told the child a thousand times not to run in front of cars? Would we be understanding of the parent’s action if he had already stopped the child from running in front of cars hundreds of times? Of course not. No parent would let a child learn from the consequences when the consequence is death. Yet many would have us believe that God would let us learn from the consequences of our actions when the consequence is worse than death -- it is the torment of eternal damnation. If God was only our Lord than such behavior might be conceivable. After all a Lord is responsible for order and stability and individual subjects might be sacrificed for the common good. But what would we think of a father that would kill one child to serve as an example to his other children? That would hardly be the actions of a loving father.
The Good News that Christ brought us was not that God was Lord and Creator. The Jews already knew this; it was the tradition in which Jesus was raised. No, the Good News was that this powerful Lord and Creator was Abba, our father. The father not just of the nation of Israel, but of each and every individual that has ever walked on this planet.
A father loves his children. He might not always like them, but he loves them. He helps them and teaches them as they grow. He watches them learn from their mistakes. But no father worthy of the title would allow his child to step in front of a speeding car, be that child 6, 16 or 60. Can I believe any less of God?
Today we know the vastness of the universe that God has created. We know the incredible age of the universe that God created and the infinite time that stretches before it. Jesus proclaimed to us that in this incredible vastness of time and space created by God, each of us is a child of God, loved by the father as his own. If the father has given us eternal souls, I cannot believe that he would allow the actions and omissions of our short time on this planet to lead any of us to an eternity of torment.
A father understands that children, no matter what the age can learn from their mistakes. Any father that would turn away a truly repentant child would be viewed as hard-hearted, in today’s language--dysfunctional. I do not believe that if at any time a truly repentant soul approaches the father, that soul will be turned away. God is not dysfunctional.