Hell is always an interesting topic. Once upon a time, I was terrified of Hell. After I found my way to my faith, I found so much beautiful inspiration in the Life of Jesus, but couldn’t help but be scared of so much in the Bible. Joshua was terrible. Revelation. Oh my heck.
There was my faith… and then came Religious Studies. I guess some would say that my “secular” education corrupted my mind. I put secular in quotations because my professors came from a diversity of religious backgrounds; many of my teachers were quite religious. Anything well-rounded considers many perspectives. That said, the majority of my professors were quite good at concealing their own views and all of them were always obvious about when they were interjecting their own view or when their perspective was at odds with scholarly consensus.
In any case, one of the things I learned throughout my educational experience at my university was that Hell is not real.
People understand Hell in very different ways. Here are the most common:
1. Hell exists as a type of torture for the evil and unjust (think of Dante’s Divine Comedy). Lots of fire and brimstone. Especially brimstone.
2. The descriptors of Hell in the Bible are metaphorical. Hell is separation from God, which feels like torture once we know what that separation is like. Is this the progressive view? I don’t know.
3. Hell? What? Silly, silly religious person.
I would call my view 3.5, because few people have it (because few people have studied Religious Studies, I suppose). References to Hell are not spacial metaphors, not descriptors of physical places to spark the imaginations of the faithful. THEY ARE NOT METAPHORS. This doesn’t mean that at 123 Hell Street you can knock on the door of the inferno, it means Gehenna was a real place. It wasn’t a metaphor. The references to “Hell” in the Bible are references to real, terrible places that people were outcast to in ancient times. They speak of cultures which really did things like sacrifice babies in fire. They aren’t metaphors. There is no Hell. There were some terrible places in ancient times, as well as people that exaggerated the terribleness of their neighbors.
One of my professors can recall conversations with Pastors in which they discuss this type of thing. The Pastor will agree that there is no Hell… but he is going to keep preaching on Hell because fear works.
I don’t want the type of religion that uses what it knows to be falsehoods to manipulate the masses. Certainly many Christians and many pastors genuinely believe in Hell. I believe that they are misinformed and could do well to take a class from Brent Walters.
“You cannot know what is red by merely thinking of redness. You can only find red things by adventuring amid physical experiences in this actual world” (Whitehead, 256).
This quotation speaks to Whitehead’s assertion that “eternal objects tell no tales as to their ingressions” (256). While this idea is perhaps a simple one, his example of redness shares an analogical truth: whatever passed down knowledge we may absorb from books, documentaries, or other sources of “information,” we don’t truly understand the world through learning. Just as actual occassions are dipolar, humans need both physical and theoretical access to the world in order to most meaningfully experience it. One can substitute a number of words for “red” (justice, love, compassion, fairness) and find great meaning.
This speaks to the reality of seminary, for me. Much of what we do constricts our physical interaction with the world by virtue of asking us to spend a great amount of time focusing on the theoretical– reading and lectures. While we are often given “practical” assignments, internships, and opportunities to put our theoretical knowledge into the world in a variety of ways, the majority of what we do is interacting with “passed down” knowledge. This knowledge is foundational and will allow us to bring our internal library of theoretical knowledge to our interaction with the physical world, but no amount of reading about compassion conveys or teaches the reality of what compassion is– one must experience it in “this actual world.” One can read about love forever, but without experiencing love, the words lack their full meaning.
If, in a cosmology of process, diversity of experience leads to more possibility, more intensity, and is a goal of life, the most fulfilling life is one in which we maximize both our study and our in-the-world-ness. Experiencing a diversity of things will allow us to know the world more fully and intensely and to make connections between our poles of experience. The more we think and act on justice, the more we understand what it is to be just. The more we both think and act on love, the more we understand what it is to be loving and loved. The more justice and love we pour into the world, the more future generations will have to build on in their own re-working of the universe toward a more just, compassionate, loving world.
Alfred North Whitehead, Process and Reality: Corrected Edition, ed. by David Ray Griffin and Donald W. Sherburne. New York: The Free Press, 1978.