Apokatastasis: The Only Eschatology Compatible with Classical Theism

I begin with a problem for the Classical view of God. If God is both a) perfectly good and b) able to create our free wills acting in any way he pleases without violating them, why are some people lost? Allow me to flesh this dilemma out.

It seems the Classical God is perfectly able to save all souls, for he is the ultimate reason why anything exists. Nothing is standing over and against him that could present an obstacle to him. And nothing exists beside or other than himself except insofar as he is already willing that it does so. God must then create that which stands over and against him in absolutely all its reality – even all its possibility. To suppose otherwise is to imply that God is not the ultimate source of all created being. Thus for a creature to be even possibly lost would require God to already be actively and intentionally creating it with that very possibility in the first place. But would a perfectly good God create other rational beings with such a possible outcome – their irremediable ruin – in mind? Remember, God does not create in order to enhance his own life. His life is maximally perfect with or without creation and he does not depend on us. He creates therefore only to bestow goodness on what he makes. But to bestow eternal torment on what is made is not good in any meaningful or intelligible sense. In fact, if there is such a thing as doing evil to something, or even of only failing to do good to it, what else could that be but positively inflicting the worst imaginable suffering on a feeling, sentient being for eternity? Or let me put the same point differently. If it still makes sense to call such an act – intentionally creating a conscious being in order to torture it for eternity or annihilate it – if we can still call this act “good,” then we are left with no conceivable alternative whereby to differentiate a good act from a bad act. But in this case we may as well not even use the word “good” when referencing God. For it carries no particular meaning and can be interchanged indistinguishably with its opposite.

Let us hone back in on the problem. If God is able to save all and if he is willing, why are any lost? How can we affirm both of these truths about God as Classical theism wants to – his absolute power and his universal love? How do we avoid concluding that God is neither helpless to save or that he positively wills to lose some of the creatures he has made?

I may as well let the cat out of the bag.

I do not believe it is possible to affirm a view of God in which he is all powerful and perfectly good and also hold that some of his creation will be eternally lost, whether this means everlasting torment or annihilation. My aim henceforth is to show why this is so.

God either creates necessarily, or he creates freely. If he creates necessarily, he is not God, since he needs creation in order to actualize his own will and being. If he creates freely, then he either creates with some goal in mind, or he does not. If he creates with no goal, then his act of creation is irrational – it lacks reason and wisdom – and is unintelligible to us. Trying to understand God’s reason for creating if he had no reason in mind when he did so would be like trying to understand the dice’s reason for turning up the numbers that it does. They do not mean to land on the numbers they do. The dice are just as much a victim of fate as the one who tosses them.

Or we can look at it the same point this way. God’s creative act is either intentional and one which he consents to, or it is not. If it is not, then God creating is more like an instance of something happening to God, a situation that he finds himself with – a spontaneous spin-off, a sort of divinely subconscious eruption  – than the deliberate act of a Creator who purposefully brings about some thing. But on Classical theology, God is fully active or actus purus, and so absolutely speaking nothing can “happen to” him. Thus his creative act cannot “happen to him” and he must create intentionally.

Classical theology, then, drives us to conclude that God deliberately and freely creates with a particular purpose in mind. Denying any part of that seems to me if not impossible at least unreasonable in the sense that the consequences lead down paths that ultimately deny the nature of God.

Now, as said before, God’s purpose in creation cannot be to increase his own being. This would imply that he is not in himself perfectly and maximally fulfilled. God then must create for the good of what he makes, for there is no other object except the created one which is gaining goodness or being made good in his act of creation.

Now, the good of what God makes lies precisely in the fact that the object made experiences or is being directed towards some fulfillment or, to use a scholastic termin, some “perfection.” This is just what it means to give good to or be good towards something. It is contradictory to claim that God creates to bestow goodness on things while also maintaining that those very things are created in order to be objects of torture or destruction. If our words and concepts are to have any meaning, to either experience or be directed towards either final annihilation or everlasting torment is to fail to give goodness to whatever is the object of that goodness. In fact it is to give it the worst evil imaginable. What conceivable act is evil if not creating a rational being who necessarily desires happiness and then refraining from granting that happiness eternally, while the creature exists in a kind of never ending state of spiritual starvation or frustration? Or even if the creature is annihilated, how could it not be evil to create a being who necessarily desires life and union with the infinite Good and then, after a period of suffering, is denied, and knows it is denied, that very ultimate object of necessary desire that it was intentionally created with?

Simply put, to grant being and goodness to a creature cannot be equivalent to ceasing to grant or failing to grand being and goodness, which are precisely what annihilation and eternal torment are instances of. Thus, God’s creative act cannot actually entail such a state of affairs – either eternal torment or annihilation – because God would then be creating for a reason contradictory to the only reason he has to create in the first place: to give good to what he makes.

I know that some claim that God somehow still does good towards lost creatures because although he does not will their ultimate happiness (which is a good) he still wills their existence as such, as particular creatures. And this sort of existential blessing – the grace of sheer existence – is itself a good. Therefore, they argue, God grants goodness even to the reprobate. Consider for instance Aquinas, who said the following in a rebuttal to an objection stating that if God damned some he did not in fact love them: “God loves sinners insofar as they are existing natures; for they have existence and have it from Him. Insofar as they are sinners, they have no existence at all, but fall short of it; and this in them is not from God. Hence under this aspect they are hated by Him.” (ST q. 20 a. 3, r. 4)

Now think carefully about this reply. On this view of sin evil as privation, what God is hating is actually something that doesn’t even exist. God has, in other words, at least on this view, a positive stance – one of hatred – towards nothingness. But how could that be? I struggle not to find what Aquinas says here wholly unintelligible. Does he mean that insofar as sinners exist, they are good; but insofar as they are sinning, they do not exist and are not good? But if so, as I said, how could their sinning (which is somehow an act that yet does not exist) be hated? How could it be some-thing that they are eternally punished for? How could even omnipotence hate or punish a non-entity?

And if this difficulty wasn’t enough, there is another that closely follows it. It is this. In what sense does God will goodness to sinners, if even their existence in Hell is something that they will hate and wish they could forfeit, as Aquinas maintains? The tradition has often asserted that the damned loathe their existence and wish it would end but know that it never will, and it is this very realization that constitutes part of their punishment.

And this, by the way, doesn’t even take into account that these very creatures that are being tormented are ones whose free wills are perfectly moved to their final destiny by God and cannot desire or perform any act which God has not eternally decreed that they should desire or perform in the first place. What you really have, then, on the Augustian/Thomistic/Calvinistic scheme is a being – God – who purposively creates beings with all the moral actuality they have and then eternally torments (or annihilates) them for that very moral actuality that he has created initially.

But if this is really what God is doing then it is meaningless to say he is “good” towards the lost.  It is then impossible to maintain both that a) God bestows goodness on all; and b) that God eternally torments some creatures. Logically, that is, both of these claims cannot be true. At least one of them must be false. Yet it seems to me that while Classical theism is necessarily committed to a), it is not so committed to b). Nothing from the existence of a first cause that is all good entails that some rational beings must either suffer eternally or be ultimately destroyed. Nor is there obviously any metaphysical impossibility on Classical theism that God could save all creatures. One could maintain that God “has” to damn some if to suppose that him saving all implies a contradiction. But does it? It is not obvious that it does. It would at least need to be argued.

Again Aquinas thought that God creates some to be lost because the very lostness of them displays a better universe as a whole. He put it like this: “the perfection of the universe requires (his wording) the manifestation of many grades of being, and that some things sometimes can, and do, fail.*” Evidently if God creates then some have to be damned in order for the creation to have the most beauty and the fullest reflection of God’s attributes.

But who makes or grounds such a “requirement”? God? But we have seen that God’s decision to create meets no unmet needs of his own. This is what allows it to be free. But let us suppose that God in fact, if he chooses to create, cannot but create something that fully displayed his attributes. Let us suppose that no matter what God makes, it is logically impossible for him to make something that, so to speak, lacks the signature of his goodness embedded in the whole. If God decides to paint a  cosmic picture (and he does not have to), then that cosmic picture must be a perfectly proportionate representation of the artist himself. Let us suppose that. But even then, why does God necessarily need to eternally torment others or annihilate them in order to show his goodness most fully?

Thus we have a sort of God needs evil argument. If God’s nature is such that, if he creates he must necessarily create some souls to suffer eternally, then God’s nature is somehow appeased by or desirous of irremediable loss or never ending torture. But how is such a nature not itself evil, or at least dependent on evil’s existence? If we can still call a nature good that necessarily requires and is pleased in bringing about eternal conscious torment, what nature could even conceivably qualify as evil in the first place if this one couldn’t? And going even further – how could such a thing be possible on a Trinitarian conception of God? God in himself contains no evil at all. He is pure good – Goodness as such. He therefore cannot desire or depend on evil. Therefore it becomes impossible for him to somehow depend on it to reflect his attributes in creation.

Let us candidly inquire: is the universe better, more beautiful, more glorious, more metaphysically “good” or richer in being, granting that some are either eternally tormented or annihilated? I cannot honestly answer that question in the affirmative. Yet logically speaking, if such a fate is real, I should actually be able to. I should be able to enjoy and appreciate Hell’s existence if God wills it to exist since it is a particular expression of his good creative act, which itself cannot but be good. If then my emotions do not line up with this picture of reality, there must be some defect in my emotions, for there cannot possibly be some defect in God’s creative action. It must then really be a good thing to wish eternal torment or annihilation on created souls. This is why one day the saved, since they are perfectly united to God, will actually be brought to delight in the conscious and bodily torment of the lost, or at least their final extinction.

Yet here we are lead to what I dub the reverse sanctification argument. If in this life we are to grow in our love of neighbor and enemy, and if we are to advance spiritually by treating others the way we would like to be treated and by considering their own well being as if it were our own, then how could we in the next life go from that to positively enjoying their torment or destruction? Thinking “I am so glad that didn’t happen to me” would be an attitude more characteristic of a lost soul itself than a sanctified one, a soul following Christ who himself taught “greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.” If the saved are happy at the torment of the lost then such an emotional posture is self interested and has no concern for the well being of its friends. But what then is the use in us trying to become less self-interested and more concerned for others now? The logic is stepping on its own toes: before death we are to love other beings that deserve hatred so we can grow into better people who after death now actually hate those beings? If it is morally better to wish their damnation, then we ought, if we are going to be really moral and align ourselves with God’s will, to hate them now.

Even if one holds that the saved hate the lost because they truly deserve hatred and have nothing at all lovable in them, we still have two problems. These is a) the metaphysical problem of how could a being with absolutely no goodness at all could even exist (i.e. it seems metaphysically impossible for an absolutely evil being to exist;) and b) even if such could occur, that would require us to view humanity right now as absolutely evil and justly deserving damnation. But if that is the appropriate moral posture to mankind it would actually be immoral to love our neighbors in the present life as Christianity teaches us. For in the present life they truly deserve Hell. Perhaps one will reply that we are to love our neighbors while they are still able to be saved in this life, but in the next when they become fixed in their wickedness we are not to love them. But this just begs the question of why they would ever become fixed in such a state to begin with if they are not in that state now. If they don’t deserve Hell now, then why would they after death, unless God changed them such to be that way? And why would he do that if he loved them or is doing good towards them? On the other hand if the lost do deserve Hell now, how can it be moral to presently treat them in the opposite way that they will be treated, say by the perfected saints in Heaven? We have here then an if they deserve it then they deserve it now argument.

Some try to avoid this dilemma by appealing to free will and claiming that God does the best he can for the lost: he loves them infinitely and hates them not at all. But then you’re left with a universe that manifests an eternal tragedy – in fact the worst tragedy imaginable: the missing out of a soul on the purpose of its existence and creation. And the more perfectly such a soul is loved, say by God and by the saved who both love infinitely and perfectly, the more intolerable this tragedy would be. This theological picture, however, is itself intolerable according to Classical theology, because God as omnipotent cannot possibly suffer such a defeat. Nor can his purposes by stymied by any resistance or obstacle. Therefore this eternal tragedy argument seems further weight against any sort of eternal punishment or annihilation of those whom God creates.

It also seems irrational and contrary to God’s own purposes that he would draw the line at death such that once a person dies the will is no longer free to choose the good. For if a line exists at all – if, that is, there is a frontier which, if it is crossed, there results an obstinate and ultimately solidified evilness of will – then that very line must exist by God’s own will and appointment. It is not as if some created “rule” or “law” exists outside of God’s own creative action such that he must respect the fact that, once creatures die, their wills are irrevocably concretized. But then that very phenomenon – that very line – must exist only because God willed it to. But if he willed good to creatures – or if in fact he desired their own good, which is the same thing – then it would be irrational for him to create such a frontier in the first place. It would be totally counterproductive to his original intention. To think of God acting like that we would have to picture him like someone who designed a thing for a particular end but in his very design set up of his own choosing an obstacle that could impede that end. It would be like imagining a programmer who created a word processor that had all the features necessary to edit a document but then also designed that word processor to delete everything that was written as soon as the last sentence was typed.

There is another argument against traditional notions of everlasting punishment which I call the best possible world-type argument. It goes like this. No one ever suggested that creatures by their very creatureliness deserve eternal life. I have said repeatedly that God does not have to create. But if he so chooses to do so, it seems a contradiction to say that he will not do so perfectly, for God can do nothing imperfectly, since his essence, which admits of no degree, is perfect goodness. Imagine it in artistic terms. A man does not necessarily have to draw a circle. But, supposing the man is perfectly capable and intelligent and good, when he in fact does draw a circle, he cannot but draw a perfect one. To suppose the circle was otherwise would be to suppose an imperfection in either the skill or intention of the man.  In the same way, God’s act of creation, supposing in fact he does create, must be that which is fitting of a perfectly good, wise, loving, needless, absolutely fulfilled being.

Now, to suppose an omnipotent God creates a universe in which some are lost presupposes not only a defect in the thing made but also defect in the very making of the thing itself. It supposes not only an imperfect circle but an imperfect drawer of the circle. For if God intends to save all in his creating, but doesn’t, his creating is defective since it does not achieve the end towards which he is working. On the other hand, if God does not intend to save all in his creating, then his creating is also defective in that it could be better than it is. The act of creating could, in other words, be more perfect in itself. But God, if he so chooses to act, cannot but act perfectly. Therefore he cannot create with the intention of un-creating (annihilation) or dis-creating (eternally tormenting.)

Perhaps the philosophers are right who suggest that there is no single best possible world. Perhaps there are an infinite number of “equally best” possible worlds, and it simply falls to God’s free will to actualize a particular one. Yet even so, none of those possible worlds, it seems, could be ones where souls are either eternally suffering or annihilated forever, for those souls themselves are ones to whom God is not acting perfectly good towards. He is not really creating them: in the ontological sense he is not really doing good towards them, since he is wishing either their destruction or torment. And as such these worlds are one a perfectly good act of creation could never bring about, for it fails in some way to be as good as it could be.

Another difficulty that arises if some are lost, no less severe though philosophically distinct from this, is that it creates a practically unlivable belief system. From this arises a self-refuting worldview argument. The thrust of the point is this: the only God that is truly trustworthy is one that intends to save all creatures. If God could possibly intend to damn or annihilate some (or all?), then such a being may damn or annihilate anyone, ourselves included. But it is not psychologically possible to trust a being who really could, without any problem to himself, and who in fact positively chooses to do this to some, inflict eternal torture on oneself. We could give lip service to such a being, but it would only be because we somehow thought that it would give us less a chance of actually being tormented by that being, not because we actually “trusted” it. (Of course, even this, when we really think it through, would be futile, since the very being itself is the ultimate cause of all our psychological states and desires and actions anyway. And he could just as easily inspire in us a hatred of himself as of a love. And further, it wouldn’t be ultimately “up to us” anyway, whether or not we were saved, since such a being is the ultimate cause – and his will is the ultimate end – of all things.)

I do not believe it can be rationally held before the mind for long – or perhaps really held at all – that some souls are destined for eternal ruin. To go on living one must, if he acknowledges the idea, immediately cease to think about it, especially if one thinks of himself or someone he loves. The moment it steps  into consciousness it must immediately be buried; if it is found out lying around the normal furniture of the mind, it must straight way be put back in the cupboard  labeled “keep shut.” To keep the reality of Hell really rationally entertained, along with its actual consequences regarding who may actually end up there and what that entails, creates either the coldest and most callous heart or the most angst and terror saturated brain.

The truth is that if eternal destruction is real, and if God has purposively chosen some to destroy, then, for all we know, such a destiny may in fact await either us or our family or our loved ones or all of the above. No sign could possibly secure an actual conviction that one was not chosen to be lost. There would always be some doubt – because there would always be some real possibility, since God is capable of doing such a thing – that, in the end, one would fall away. For again God is under no obligation to grant Heaven to any created soul. He is under no obligation, even if he has granted many temporary graces to creatures in this life, to give a final persevering grace, to any. Why then think that he has? Because we  feel or have felt secure in our belief? Yet that very security itself comes from the arbitrary will of God which has in fact chosen not only to damn some, but to damn some who thought they were really saved. In fact the very sufferings of Hell, on traditional views, require an infinite amount of suffering and also that the damned know what it is that they are being deprived of. But this logic entails that God causes some (all?) damned souls to experience transient temporal goods and desires and then revoke such things, for the very revoking would itself be part of their eternal punishment, which God desires and wills. Thus even temporary graces in this life would be signs of damnation just as much as signs of salvation, and so would offer no real comfort to any soul.

At what point is a view of God simply unbelievable because of its moral unworthiness? Is there such a point? If we conclude that there isn’t, then anything may be true of God. He may delight in punishing those who trust in him and his version of Heaven would be our version of Hell. But then if anything may be true of God, what good is there in trying to learn about him, since in the end, what we really all mean by “good” may actually be a vacuous term – or at least something totally other than what God really is?

Now, could we call an act of God’s “good” which resulted in their destruction? Only if we thought that God was limited such that he was not able to do more: only if we thought he did not unite such beings to himself because he was not able to do so. But the Classical God is under no such restraints. He is able to unite beings to himself, as is evidenced in the saved. And thus we come to the point: now, when contrasting God’s act towards the saved and his act towards the lost, you have two essential acts of God that exclude each other. If they were not mutually exclusive then you could say that God acts towards the lost the same as he does towards the saved. But then it becomes inexplicable why some are saved and some lost. Therefore, you have two opposite acts: you have an act of creating-a-desire-then-giving-fulfillment and an act of creating-a-desire-then-denying-fulfillment. You have an act of perfect love of other, and an act of imperfect love of other (or, it seems, of hatred.) You have an act whereby the telos and end and intention of the act is unity with and joy in the divine being and you have an act whereby the telos and end and intention of annihilation or separation from and hatred of the divine being. And you have these two acts, which are both done to rational creatures which are objects of the sameness kind, coming from the same God. But if God is simple, if he is a single act of existence, if he is essentially love and goodness – in short if Orthodox and Classical theology are true – then God cannot be essentially divided into two acts of being like this. His action must be unified and its effect must be all encompassing. Such a unity is easily upheld so long as we think that he always acts out of perfect, infinite love, which is his nature and essence. But once we start to juxtapose God’s love and “justice” we simultaneously lose the unity of the divine essence. It becomes simply the unknowable and mysterious – the place where seemingly contradictory acts mutually come together in some essence we cannot but think of as unintelligible. But if God is unintelligible to us, there is no difference in supposing he is absurd or even non-existent, since the mind knows the same about each: nothing.

Many will say that God is under no obligation to any creature – that’s just what it means for him to be God, to be independent of creation and able to be perfectly fulfilled without it. But let us think carefully about this. Is it really correct to say that God if he creates is under no obligation to save? Is God really, granting that he decides to create (which makes an infinite difference), really under no obligation, even to his own act of creating, to draw anyone to himself? Yet if that is so – if God really has no obligation even to his own nature to create a certain way when he creates – then God could have created a universe in which all creatures suffered in Hell eternally and his creative act would have been just as perfect. Are we really forced to hold a theology which entails this? No doubt God in the abstract, in himself and apart from creation, has no obligation at all. But God on the supposition of creation is a different matter entirely. That means he has freely taken on the project of creating and thus directing rational, feeling people. It is under such a free act on God’s part that we should, I think, consider his “obligations.”

If God creates, it cannot be to increase his own happiness. He must then create in order to pour out goodness on the things which he creates. There is no other conceivable reason why he would or how he could create. But, if God creates some to be damned, then this very creative act becomes a contradiction. It becomes him creating for the good of the other while also willing never ending suffering or annihilation to that other. God’s pouring out goodness is then not a pouring out of goodness at all. It is simply a pouring out of suffering, of torture, of badness. We have then a contradictory motive to create argument. Quite simply, if God creates to pour out goodness on others, then he cannot create to torment or annihilate, for this is in no way compatible with pouring out goodness.

This leads to the next argument against eternal torment or annihilation, which is the division of the divine essence argument. To believe that God has intentionally created some for Heaven and others for Hell results in a metaphysical dualism insofar as God’s actions toward the saved and his action towards the lost reveal mutually exclusive desires and actions of his own essential being. God loves the saved such that he gives them the one infinite good that they need to be satisfied (himself). He creates in them a desire for happiness and then meets that desire by uniting them to it:  i.e. God does the best for them that he can. He invites them into, as it were, his own Trinitarian love – and so loves them infinitely. Thus his desire for his own Triune existence somehow encompasses and involves these souls. He does not, however, act the same way toward the lost. He creates in them a desire but does not unite these beings with himself in such a way where that desire is fulfilled. He does not love them with nor are they partakers in Trinitarian love. This, however, results in two different loving acts of God. A Trinitarian one, whereby he is united to and unites to himself the object of his love. And there is a non Trinitarian one, whereby he lacks such an action, or performs it defectively, and the damned are lost.

The question to ask is: by what act does God love the lost? Is it the same as Gods own Trinitarian act of infinite and perfect love – that is the very same act whereby he loves himself? If it is not then you divide Gods single act of existence into two acts and make him something essentially other than Triune love. All Classical theology would reject such a notion however as unintelligible, for it holds to the unity and supremacy of the first cause whose essence just is a single act of being.

Is it possible God could acts towards an objection of his action any way other than the way in which he acts essentially and necessarily in himself Trinitarianly? To suppose so seems to me to boarder on contradiction – to propose a metaphysical absurdity. It would seem to entail that God – who just is an act of Trinitarian love – could still be God, and yet fail to be just such an act. I am not saying God has to create. But if he does, doesn’t his creative act itself have to be, since he is essentially such an act, Trinitarian? Must it not incorporate that which he makes into his own essential loving act of being? It does not seem improper to suggest that, if God freely chooses to be good towards creatures, the only good he is able to give is the only good he knows – in fact the only good that really exists – the good of himself, of the Trinity.

I move now to the intuitive goodness and beauty argument. Ask anyone which created universe is better: one where some are lost or one where all are saved. Nearly all people will say that a universe in which all are reconciled to God and none are lost is intuitively better than one in which some suffer eternal torture or annihilation. Tell a child, for instance, that God is powerful enough to save everyone. And then watch the child ask why God then doesn’t do that. What possible answer can one give this most basic and burning question, so easy that a child can form it?

In fact this feeling of dissatisfaction is so prominent that many who believe in eternal torment will tell you when they set out to defend it that they they wish it wasn’t true. But how could that really be? How could we really believe in an all perfect and good God and simultaneously wish something were not true about his creation that he is purposively bringing about? If the universe comes from the hand of an infinitely good and perfect and beautiful God, it must be infinitely better than we can imagine, not worse. That would be like really wishing we could improve an already perfected painting. If the painting is really perfect, our failure to appreciate it is in fact our failure – not a failure in the painting.

If we are capable of really knowing and loving God, at rock bottom, our emotions and feelings toward goodness must be in sync with God’s own. If they aren’t, then we could never know God: we could never relate to him. We would be staring at a painting that we could not but help think was hideous all the while knowing that we ought – even though we couldn’t – to find it beautiful. But if God really is perfect goodness and really requires that some be damned because that is a better state of affairs than otherwise, then our current emotions are not only mistaken about human existence but immoral. It would be wrong of us to desire counter to what God desires: we ought then to work on correcting our desires. We ought to try to see the beauty and goodness of the damned, or punishment, of torment. But is this even psychologically possible? And would it not dehumanize us, to try to become people who positively delighted in imagining that some of the people we interact with on a day to day basis will one day be writhing in the most intense agony a divine mind can imagine forever?

How could such an intuitive notion of the dignity of each person, a person who bears in himself the infinite good of the image of God, be so completely mistaken by us today, indeed even by saints and martyrs, who died sometimes for their enemies? We have thus an imago dei argument. If we really are made in God’s image, to think of that image as something that we will delight in seeing corrupted, is wicked and blasphemous. It is akin to delighting in seeing a Bible being burned or Christ himself being crucified.

Now, before ending this essay I want to say that I grant that the strongest weapon in the arsenal of those who believe in eternal damnation is the Christian Scriptures. In fact, if some things weren’t (supposedly) found in the Bible I can’t imagine anyone would, on their own, believe them to be true – in particular that a good God has intentionally ordained the eternal suffering of a mass of creatures for some higher good otherwise inscrutable – a good which, by the way, no one can give even a possible suggestion of.

Yet if we do think God creates some to be lost because that’s what Scripture says, but we cannot imagine or even suggest how that can be good, then we really cannot logically think that God’s creative act is a good one. No matter what we say we believe, what we are actually doing is smuggling in the idea of we-don’t-know-what and thinking of it when we profess the word “good.” We are really just meaning “God does what he does. For all I can see, it is not good. But I suppose that’s just the way it is. The Bible says so.”

I have some sympathy with this claim. There is, however, a strong rebuttal to it, not often realized.We have as it were a God must be good (or at least what we mean by the term) or else believing in the inspiration of scripture is self refuting argument. It goes like this. Before anyone says that the Christian Scriptures force us to hold that God wills the damnation of some (a claim which, as a matter of fact, not all Christians agree on) I would remind that person that it is only the goodness of God which makes worshiping Him praiseworthy or even rational. For if God is not good – or better yet is not what we mean by that word – then there is no reason to think that we are any better off trusting in anything he says, whether it is in a sacred book or not.  It makes no sense even to believe in the Scriptures if in doing so we destroy all possible ethical connection to the source of the Scriptures. You may just as well say that we’ve got to believe in the owners manual when it tells us to throw the thing we are trying to fix into an incinerator. However we interpret the Bible, if that method results in us burning our bridge back to God, we must simply abandon it. For the existence of a bridge itself is more necessary to reach our destination than any particular tool (however useful) which helps us cross it. And besides, before we come to that – before we come to resigning ourselves to an unknown being that we call God which the Bible seems to irresistibly point towards – have we really exhausted all our options? Have we really gave a fair hearing to the ones who have claimed that the owners manual, when read aright, did not actually teach that we should toss the device into the oven? After all, some of these thinkers were more ancient and connected to the original source than many who came after them and said otherwise.

Ultimately, my point is simply this. One can believe in a good God whether they’ve read the Bible or not. But one cannot believe in a good God if their notion of good is really “not good.”

One also cannot simply appeal to some Scriptural texts to prove that some will be lost and have that settle the matter. One must also necessarily appeal to a conception of God. For if one’s ultimate conception of God is that he is unknowable or he is the type of being who may, for all we know, intentionally torture us forever to make a more perfectly symmetrical universe, then it doesn’t matter what a book says about such a being. Even if such a book did reveal the truth, if God is that type of being, believing the truth would offer us no advantage. The book itself doesn’t, after all, list anyone’s names. All it is doing is giving a description of the nature of God.

It all really boils down to this. We can either understand God in some way and can speak truly about him, or we cannot. If we cannot, then there is no use talking about him. If we can, we must answer the question on whether or not he is good. And if he is good, we must answer what that means. It cannot mean he creates to satisfy a need, for then he is dependent and not God. But if he creates for no need then he must create to give goodness to others. But if he does that, then he cannot intentionally damn anyone or destroy them. But if he cannot do that, then all will be saved.

I shall end with this. I believe in universal restoration or salvation because I believe in the Classical concept of God, the only concept of God that makes any sense to me or that seems even possibly true. I was not consciously driven to such a belief by wishfulfillment or any desire to reject what I thought was logical and true. Quite the contrary is the case, actually. I came to believe in the Classical conception of God before I had a particular belief about Heaven or Hell. But as I thought about things it became increasingly obvious that the only way to hold onto Classical and Orthodox theology – that stout theology passed on to us by the greatest Christian and even pagan thinkers – was to disbelieve in the final destruction or torment of any rational being. Simply put, the idea that God will bring all souls he creates eventually into union with himself is the only worldview that I see that is coherent and able to be lived out. All others are self contradictory or psychologically unlivable.

I know others will disagree with this assessment. But I would invite them to ask themselves why. Logically speaking, where would they disagree with me? Is God unable to save all creatures? If so, why? Or is he unwilling? If so, why?

*There are many more instances of this. See for example: STq. 23 a.  5 r. 3; q. 49 a. 2 I answer that; q. 47 a. 2 I answer that.


Eternal Kenosis

God cannot acquire some virtue – some mode of goodness – simply because he created. Otherwise God would depend on creation for his own being, in which case he would be just as contingent as the world. And then we would have either two contingent principles – the world and God – or two necessary principles, and neither one of these metaphysics is satisfactory. We must have a God who is necessary and a creation which is contingent.

But then, every mode of goodness must pre-exist in God, apart from the world, since he cannot get some new good in virtue of what need not itself exist (the world.) On a purely Platonic conception of God, in which he is “goodness” or “being” as such, abstractly, we have the old classical idea of an impassible God, experiencing nothing but bliss, an unwavering “joyous” psychological experience. But on a Christian conception – or rather on an Incarnational one – in which the human Jesus shows us the father, we have something different. We have a God who, in himself, experiences a full array of human emotions – some quite other than joy. In other words, in Jesus, we have a person who experiences things that a Platonic God could never experience.

In fact, we do not need even the Incarnation to prove this point. Take any human, and consider various virtues or goods, which would not be possible for a Platonic God to have: self-sacrifice, courage, patience, vulnerability, spontaneity, surprise. Now ask yourself: how could a created person have virtues or moral goods that God himself does not have?

It seems to me there are only two ways to go here. We can either say such things are really Good Things for a personal being to possess, or they are not. If they are not – if a person can be just as good and have just as full a life without ever experiencing them – then we have no problem saying that God, in his inner Trinitarian being apart from creation, does not experience them. But if such things are good – if, that is, we can all agree that, if we were given the choice of living a life in which these emotions were present in various ways, or a life in which they were absent, but we were in full orgasmic bliss constantly – if then we really think such things are good, then they must pre-exist in God’s very essence itself.

Consider which being you find the “greatest possible being.” Is it a being who cannot in any way experience any painful psychological experience; a being who, necessarily, is not even able to feel anything other than joyous bliss? Or is it a being who has a multitude of emotions – none of them with evil intent – some of which involve real suffering and pain, perhaps even courage and vulnerability, for the sake of another?

If God is, to borrow from Balthasar, “essentially kenotic” this does not mean his timeless experience is somehow a negative thing. Thinking that way looks at God’s experience atomistically. What is more accurate, I think, is to imagine the whole drama of human existence, and all its emotions, minus those which have an evil intention, as being themselves a sort of diagram for the inner life of God. A timeless God experiences all his life “at once.” This is the famous dictum from Boethius, God’s timelessness involves “the full possession of illimitable life.” Therefore, any mention of kenosis is not an event for God that comes to him, and that he experiences, and that passes away. Neither is it something that in itself dominates his whole experience such as to be his primary existential feeling. It is, rather, a note in the divine and timeless Song – a theme in the eternal and Triune drama.

God experiences self-sacrifice and emptying, true. But he also rises from the dead afterwards. The pain does not have the last word, but it does serve as fertilizer for the blessed fruit that is eventually borne.

God: Abstraction or Person?

I find it reasonable to think that at the back of all changing things stands a changeless, fully active principle – one which causes other things to change in various ways. In short, I’m convinced of Aristotle’s unmoved mover argument.

But the argument takes you, not to the concept of a changing, thinking person, but some abstract notion of “pure being” as such. Thus we are driven to hold concepts like the impassibility of God – i.e. that the existence and even suffering of humans makes no difference to his own experienced, changeless bliss. This view of God is Platonic – it involves viewing God as the abstraction “good” as such. That being the case, he cannot have any sort of evil – any sort of psychologically painful experience – infect his being. This is because as the abstraction “good” he is an ideal, something which is purely what it is, like the color white. As soon as you make a mark on a perfectly white page, you no longer have perfect, ideal white as such. You have tainted your abstraction and mixed it with something else.

If this is how God is, it means it literally makes no difference to him what goes on in the world. Every human being could be experiencing torture right now, and he would be just as infinitely happy if none of them were, or even if they didn’t exist. Of course, Classical theologians will say that an impassible God can still “care” for his creation on this model. God need not suffer just because others are suffering in order to be fully concerned with helping those sufferers out. He need not be starving himself in order to give food to starving people.

But when I ask myself which thing is a better person – one who cannot suffer and therefore one to whom it makes no difference whether or not other people suffer or even exist, or one who can so suffer with and because other people are suffering – when I ask which person is greater, rather than which notion lines up better with a Platonic abstraction of “The Good,” I think I choose the latter.

But what about the argument for an unchangeable principle? And what about all the other arguments that classical theism employs (and which are quite powerful), such as the argument from contingency and mutability?

Well suppose that principle still exists and that those arguments are valid. Suppose God does have a necessary and unchanging nature. The question seems to be, why suppose that such a thing is identical with his personal experience? 

Undoubtedly there is some aspect of me that is unchanging. Otherwise, I could not be myself as I endured through time. But that aspect, whatever it is, is certainly not my conscious experience. It is not my emotional life, nor my creative life, nor my actions, nor my love. These things constantly break forth anew – sometimes in ways I did not previously imagine, even though they are from my own being. And that seems to me a good thing. It seems to me something enjoyable, joyous even, to be surprised at one’s own being. If you were to tell me that a new thought could never enter my mind and that I would never experience “novelty” again, I would be quite disappointed.

And it is not only the experience as such which makes the enjoyment. It is the passage, the creative rhythms to life, the unknown discovery of oneself and others, which is most wondrous and fascinating. To be held in awe, to be able only to marvel at one’s lack of comprehension, to be surprised at oneself: these are deeply meaningful personal experiences. If God is a person, how could he be fully alive if he lacked them?

The classical theologian will object that if God is emotionally moved by the world, or if his experience is enriched or diminished by it, then he is not the ultimate first cause. He is one more contingent thing that gets its being and is actualized by something outside himself. In which case, he is not the supreme being. But I have always wondered, why cannot God be emotionally moved by the world and depend on it if he has freely chosen to be? If God freely decides to enter into such a relation, why can’t he? To say it such is impossible is to conclude that God necessarily cannot be related to the world at all. But then how could he freely create at all? If God can only be what he necessarily is in himself, and cannot turn to other things outside himself because that would make his being actualized by such things, then how could he even create such things, which would then at the very least involve him now having the property “creator” which he did not have before?

In fact what is so interesting is that Aquinas and the whole classical line held that God “could” do other than he does. He could have not created. But wouldn’t that mean that God was able, at some time, to either create or not create? If we say of anything that it “can” or “could” that implies that at one time it stood or is standing in a potential relation to whatever that thing is we are referencing. If I “can” get up from the chair that means that right now I can potentially stand up. It makes no sense to say I could do something other than I am doing if I am changelessly doing that very thing.

And look what follows: if God could have not created, he must have existed at some time in the past when he was able to either create or not. But then he would not be timeless. At best he could only be eternal. Further, if God really was able to create or not, then he must have been able to relate himself to something outside himself by his own free action.

Thus, the classical model cracks under the pressure of trying to fit the personal, choosing, acting God into the mould of the Aristotelian-Platonic abstraction of The Good, Actus Purus, or Being as such.

Perhaps we should take a longer look at replacing that picture – or at least modifying it – to better reflect a being who seems to us to be greater and more worthy of love and worship.


Why does it take so many words to express a thought?

Round and round my words go, more and more.

They generate more words, but come no closer to the truth.

I can only get so close to the fire.

If I touch it I become ash.


Right Now

right now, a white haired man is laying on a hospital bed, thinking about the close of his life, with slow breathing
right now, a form of flesh is passing through its mother, and being held up to her face, and opening its eyes, taking into its little soul the universe for the first time,
right now, a soldier is splayed out on a hot battlefield, holding his guts in with his hand, anxiously wondering if he will die, and if so if this is the end, and thinking of his loved ones with a bursting heart,
right now, a young girl is behind a wall in a playground, blushing as a young boy hands her a flower, and feels a sweet rush when they touch hands like she has never felt before,
right now a father is sitting in an aisle with the sun on his face, watching his daughter, his little one, who he taught to walk and coddled in his arms, pledge her till death do us part to a man who seems to him so young,
right now a teenage boy is standing on the edge, desperately hating with all the energy of his spirit that he is not normal, not knowing that that standard, when he is older, will cease to be rememberable,
right now, a new college student is scribbling on paper, with books piled high (or a hundred tabs open in his browser), trying to figure out what is true about God, and what he believes, and trying to parse his wishes and his upbringing from what is really the case,
right now, a woman sips her drink at a table of friends and laughs with sparkling eyes, and feels a perfect warmth in the airs of society,
right now, a rage envelopes the heart of a youth who learns that his lover has betrayed him, and the redness drives him to hatch a bloodthirsty plan of murder,
right now a widow is making her bed alone in her house, feeling an emptiness that has only grown these last 15 years, but who for all the world feels most blessed to live, and knows beyond argument that life is a good thing,
right now a resolve is being made with an atomic strength of will, which will be broken tomorrow,
right now a conviction fills the breast of one so strongly, that she will carry it throughout her life unshakeably,
right now happiness and sadness, peace and anxiety, horror and joy, pain and pleasure, wickedness and virtue saturate the spirits of this globe, all in the same right now,
all in the same mind of God, who’s experience enfolds everything,
in his right now.

A Curious Light

if you look for it,
it doesn’t come.
it hides itself,
knowing that you look for it.
if you try to call it forth,
you get no reply
except a nothing or a blankness
that causes a hitch or stammering
in your thinking
that feels like trying to breathe through a straw
after running hard up a hill.
yet halfway thru the doing of some task
which you have planned to do
and wish you could finish
like the reading of a book

or the doing of a chore
or in the midst of driving on four lanes of interstate
where you go nervously but smoothly
until tail lights flash ahead
and make you go as slow as a snail
inching across the edges of the universe
or while sitting on the porch
watching the birds chirping in the trees
jumping from one branch to another
for reasons unknown
and keeping an eye out for the red one
that sometimes show up
or in eating an egg
that you have scrambled in the microwave
and sprinkled some salt on,
with a dab of ketchup
or while taking a shower

and closing your eyes
as the warm water massages your oily morning skin
and getting some  of that water in your mouth
and spitting it out –
sometimes in these unlikely places
inspiration strikes
(and by my now calling and naming them
i have robbed them of their fertility
for i have openly acknowledged
that these such places are bushes hiding secrets
behind their leaves
and now the secrets will move)
i say inspiration strikes because
i know not how else to say it.
it hits like a slap in the brain
that instead of causing pain
or even shock
causes an injection of curious light
like a momentary flooding
of a color never seen
or a smell never smelt
from outside mysteriously.
thus sometimes it is sudden.
but other times it is a rising up,
a slow coming-into-focus
of something somehow not more well defined
even though it is more well known and felt
right then than before.
how odd that
just like its coming
Inspiration’s staying
depends largely on the minds

The Relation

The most accurate description

of the relation between God and man

is not that of cause to effect

but that

of creator to created.

If we think of God merely as a cause

and ourselves as merely an effect

we bring in the idea

of a physical pre-motion

working like a line of domino’s

where one falls just because the one before

hits it.

This leads to two errors –

The first

is of God acting in time, and doing things

one after another

(first he thinks of what to do

and then he does it).

This splits up his being

since he is limited in doing and feeling

only one thing at once

(and what would limit him?

a limit must come from some place

above or outside.)


what reason would there be

that God changed this way

rather than that?

If this reason itself is changing,

then the same question can again be put,

and so on


But if not,

then we at last arrive

at an unchanging principle

which just eternally is

what it is

and acts itself to establish and ground

all changing things.

Second of all,

thinking of God as cause

and us as his effect

makes us think that things

are “pre” determined

and that what we do “now”

is “already” decided.

And so we call his plans irresistible

and conclude that what we do

doesn’t matter

or is no different than a play

already written by a Cosmic director.

The truth is that God does all he does

at once:

between him and us

there is no “pre” or before.

What he does

is not cause some effect

like some billiard ball

that strikes another

and moves it to its destination.

Rather, all at once,

without any intermediary or middle tool

(he does not use a billiard ball,

or even a cue stick)

God acts as creator

and timelessly brings about,


and with full energy

something created.

The very content of God’s creative act

just is our free selves

doing what we do.

Simply put

God creates us


And since he operates on a higher plane

he does not compete with what he makes.

There is no sense in which

his causative powers

take anything away from our own.

For his causative powers

create our own

like how the artist

in painting the image

creates the reality of the image

in the very painting.

Milton talked of wanting

to justify the ways of God to man.

But justification is the wrong word

once we realize

that the relation between us and God

is not that between physical cause and effect

but rather between a creator

to a thing created.

Does it make sense

to speak of a work of art

being “justified”

or of asking

of a work of free

and creative genius

why such and such a thing was made

rather than another?

It just is

what it is.

There is no deciding

or deliberating

or weighing options

in an act of spontaneous creation.

Does this mean that

since God creates all

he also creates the bad?

Well no one can deny

that whatever bad exists

must have first existed in the creator’s mind

at least as a potential happening.

Everything that happens

is ultimately rooted in

the metaphysical playground of his mind

from which springs every

particular possibility.

Could a good God create


Well there is suffering

of that there is no denying.

But why would he create the universe

his cherished piece of art

his love

which such a stain

with such moans and groans

and shrieks and tortures?

Perhaps because

in so creating

he pours himself into his work

such that he takes up all suffering

all bad


and lives through it and in it.


of his own choice

he deigns to experience it all,

the whole creation,

just such a thing,

like how an artist or a writer

or a Father

becomes one with the emotions

of his painting or his novel

or his child

and is most fully united and alive

and himself

in so doing.

Perhaps God so takes up a project

of creating a universe with suffering

to partake of the experience


along with his creatures

triumph over it all

and so relish his being

and expand theirs

with a far greater multiplicity of notes

of meaning and existence.