Is There a Case for Hopeful Universalism?

Surely every Christian must admit to having some difficulty with the doctrine of hell, especially given the otherwise good news of the Gospel. Who would deny it? And, while some explanations of Hell are more palatable (and perhaps plausible) than others, it is still that very same Gospel which delivers to us, in no small or unforceful terms, the real possibility of experiencing definitive, self-exclusion from God – and by that, eternal conscious torment.

“Then he will answer, ‘In truth, I tell you, in so far as you neglected to do this to one of the lease of these, you neglected to do it to me.’ And they will go away to eternal punishment, and the upright to eternal life” (Mathew 25: 45 – 46)

While certain scriptural passages can be cited for alternative interpretations to the traditional understanding (which may seem to imply that Hell is not, as it happens, everlasting), I do not believe the cumulative weight of evidence from scripture — and more so the evidence from tradition — can consistently afford such interpretations without an extravagant series mental gymnastics to accompany it. Furthermore, for Catholics, it would seem quite clear that any “strong form” universalism – that of Origen, say, or more recently David Bentley Hart; i.e. that all, not only will, but must, be saved – is decidedly heretical. So, what options are there?

For me, the mystery of eschatology, and especially the possibility of eternal separation from God, is one which cannot be pondered in isolation – that is, apart from questions of greater metaphysical concern (such as God’s nature and universal causality), philosophical anthropological (libertarian freedom; the possible post-mortem fixity of the human soul), and, of course, the problem of evil and suffering.

In fact, the very prospect of an eternal hell is sometimes proposed as an intolerable wickedness at once incompatible with an all-loving, all-good God. So, either Hell must go, or God himself.

My position, of course, is that Hell can be perfectly just even given an all-loving God, though I do not intend to defend that position here. I only suggest it can, and has, been ably defended. Rather, I should like to make the case for a Catholic “hopeful universalism,” which maintains, as Bishop Barron points out, that we may all have a reasonable hope that no single person is eternally separated from God.

Before we proceed, let me carefully define what a hopeful universalism is, and importantly, what it is not. For one thing, the word universalism can be misleading: we are not saying there are many paths to God. There is only one path to God, and that is through Christ, and, specifically, the Catholic Church. Thus, whoever is saved, and however many are saved, is all accomplished through the Catholic Church (Christ’s Body), one way or another. Also, a hopeful universalism does not declare a definite knowledge of the destiny of souls (that all are, or will, be saved), nor does it make moral demands upon God (that all must be saved). Again, a hopeful universalism is rather mild, and maintains only that we can have a reasonable hope that, some way or other, God manages to bring all human souls freely to himself.

Here I grant as many positions to the traditional understanding of Hell as I see reasonable, which are many: That Scripture does indeed affirm the real possibility of a state of eternal (read: everlasting) separation from God; that neither Christ nor St. Paul were incompetent teachers, such that, if all must be saved or will be saved (as strong-form Universalists hold), they somehow forgot to mention, or at least make obvious, this seriously interesting fact (whereas they certainly did make obvious all those actions/behaviors/decisions which may cause somebody not to inherit the Kingdom of God). I am persuaded by these arguments, completely. So, I concede all of them. (Ed Feser, in a recent exchange with David Bentley Hart, parades much of the biblical data on his blog, along with support from tradition and councils, here and here. It’s worth having a look at.)

My case, then, for a Catholic hopeful universalism is a thin one and relies predominantly on the following lines of thought.

• ONE, that God is more omnipotent (if that makes sense) than we often give our transcendent Creator credit for, and, because God wills that all be saved and come to a knowledge of truth, God, indeed, is so controlling (providentially), so loving and so wise, that, possibly, at the end of the day, he ensures all – by however slim a margin – finally repent and receive salvation. Here, I simply lean more into the omnipotence and love of God, than I do the depravity of the sinful human state. This is both a metaphysical presupposition and general intuition. Take that for what it is.
• TWO, that Hell is always a real possibility, but that, again, possibly, the total number of humans comprising the set of those eternally condemned is equal precisely to zero. This means it was wise of Christ and Saint Paul, etc., to warn us fiercely of the potential fiery pangs of Hell, and, because of this, were never misleading or incompetent in their preaching, but, because of those harsh teachings, and through God’s grace and instrumental causality (his disciples, evangelists, etc.), possibly, God’s uncircumstanced will (that all shall be saved) is ultimately confirmed in its entirety by the actual circumstances (including free decisions of creatures) that occur.
• THREE, even in the order of divine universal causality, God works with all beings according to their mode of being, and, for us, being fallible, free creatures, God does not offer irresistible grace through and through, but, as Jacques Maritain puts it, God provides “shatterable motions” toward our ultimate, supernatural end of the Beatific Vision. He first activates our will – moves our will without it first moving itself, to, say, desire salvation, through an always efficacious impulse – which, if not subsequently frustrated by our free ability to “non-act”, will eventually fructify into everything we need to enjoy eternal salvation.In short, everything good comes from God, and is due entirely to God’s first, loving initiative. However, we, as fallible, free creatures, can impede the ultimate fruits of God’s grace, once the operative effect becomes co-operative (with the will now moving itself), since we can then “nihilate” or not-consider, and then subsequently not-implement, the rule which pertains to this or that moral situation, and so introduce nothing-ness, or non-being, into the created order (“for without me, you can do nothing” – quite literally, says Maritain!); hence why Bernard Lonergan, following a similar line of thought, calls sin a surd, or objective false-hood: it is something missing that otherwise ought to be there, and so it is we, not God, who take the first initiative in the line of evil. The point? God can be frustrated (though perhaps only temporarily, if all do happen to be saved) in the particular ends of his creatures (though God cannot be frustrated in the universal end of creating an overall good world), precisely because in this order of providence he has decided to introduce the element of created liberty, and God “plays fair” as it were, by working with that created element according to its particular mode of being. But God, in his eternal wisdom, knows all possible outcomes in all possible situations, and so always has lines of “backup grace” ready to deploy, in pursuit of our ultimate, free cooperation. The question, then, is whether God ultimately gets it. My suspicion, as you have no doubt detected, is perhaps God does.
• FOUR, of course there is Scriptural data in support of universal reconciliation, as well, which cannot be overlooked. The notion certainly does not emerge from nowhere. (John 12:32; Eph 1;9-10, for example).
• FIVE, suffering itself. Eleonore Stump has perhaps the most beautiful, tear-jerking account of why an all-good, all-loving God allows suffering, which can be summarized as follows: God will allow suffering if, and only if, it is the best or only available means, to deliver some outweighing benefit, primarily to the sufferer. Thus, if God can be frustrated in particular ends by his fallible free creatures, God may allow suffering as providential means to bring a person freely, lovingly, to Himself. To get those shatterable motions, as it were, to fructify.
• SIX, and finally, there are upshots to maintaining a Catholic hopeful universalism, even on a practical level, such as:
  • There is no formal breach of orthodoxy; all Catholics are entitled to hold this reasonable hope that all men shall eventually be saved. (They are not, however, entitled to say they know all men shall be saved, or must be saved.) But since hope is not also a guarantee, we would do well to continue to pray, receive the sacraments, etc.
  • And, if – if, if if! – all indeed are saved, it is surely, in part, by way of God working through secondary and instrumental causes; namely, us, as disciples and evangelists. So, there is no dis-incentive, as it were, to preach the Gospel.
  • Finally, an avoidance of earthly despair, which can surely occur – especially among us more sentimentalist types – when contemplating the eternal prospects of those who currently seem so distant from God.

Here, I finish simply with a quotation of the Catholic Catechism, paragraph 1821: “In every circumstance, each one of us should hope, with the grace of God, to persevere ‘to the end’ and to obtain the joy of heaven, as God’s eternal reward for the good works accomplished with the grace of Christ. In hope, the Church prays for ‘all men to be saved.’”

We ask: Would the Church pray for the impossible? If not, then we can surely hope.