"Hell is an outrage on humanity. When you tell me that your Deity made you in his own image, I reply that he must have been very ugly."
-Victor Hugo
I've been emailing one of my Christunfrends on the subject of hell. Hell is
the dark underbelly of orthodox Christian belief. Christians are, with some
notable exceptions, a nice bunch. Remember the natives of the planet Krikkit?
In
Life, the
Universe and Everything they believe in "peace, justice, morality,
culture, sport, family life, and the obliteration of all other life forms." As
I've
said
before, evangelicals are sometimes a bit like that. Only instead of the
obliteration of all other life forms, we have the eternal conscious torment of
non-believers in Hell (
annihilationism
being viewed as suspiciously liberal by
people like
Reform).
When I was a Christian, if asked, I'd have said that my non-Christian friends
were going to Hell. But, like my correspondant, I'd not really faced what that
meant. Most Christians consider Medieval pictures of fire and pitchforks
a little passé these days, but regardless of that, Hell is conceived by
Christians as the total absence of anything good. Choose your own favourite
candidate for the worst thing that's ever happened, and it's worse than that.
Forever.
The justification for an infinite punishment for a finite crime is supposedly
that it's not really a finite crime at all. God is so perfect that the smallest
offence against him is as bad as the largest. Or he's so good that nothing
sinful can come into his presence. The latter explanation of the mechanics of
damnation absolves God of personal involvement in sending people to Hell,
as it's logical necessity which means that nobody can join God in heaven
without the aid of Jesus.
My friend, and presumably other Christians, respond to the thought that their
friends are damned with gratitude that Christians are saved, and also with an
increased zeal for evangelism. What's missing from this is a question about how
their friends' fate can possibly be just. If the latter explanation is true,
why does God sustain consciousness in the damned? And if he doesn't
deliberately sustain it, why are the damned conscious, as we're told that in
him we live and move and have our being?
And if the former explanation is true, why is he so goddamned tetchy? We have
Christians who are supposed to be longsuffering, patient and kind, serving a
God who is second to none in his sociopathic perfectionism ("Using an adaption
of Anselm's Ontological Argument, or otherwise, prove this statement
about God is true. [20 marks]"). As Terry Pratchett points out in Small
Gods, the prophets are better than the gods they serve.
I was attempting to understand how someone can thank God for
salvation in the face of the knowledge of the fate of their loved ones. There
are a couple of possible explanations. One is that Christians just haven't
thought about it very much. That was my experience. As Andrew Rilstone writes
about
another unpalatable evangelical belief, the fact that my
nonchristunfrends were going to hell was just "one of the three impossible
things you had to believe before breakfast in order to hang out with a nice
group of people, sing songs and occasionally get a faith-based-buzz".
The other explanation is somewhat darker. If a Christian honestly faces the
reality of hell and thanks God anyway, my impression is that it's rather like
the Stockholm Syndrome,
where people who are kidnapped, held hostage or otherwise placed under extreme
duress come to love their captors and thank them for any small act of kindness
(I'm not
the first to have come up with this idea, of
course).
S (who, ironically, usually plays God's Advocate in these discussions :-) points out that the true history of the Stockholm bank robbery
doesn't reflect the Stockholm Syndrome as described, and
that accusing someone of suffering from the syndrome is a convenient way of
dissing your political opponents. I suppose the penultimate paragraph
of this
article is what I'm talking about. Call it what you like, but, as
alluded to by the paragraph beginning "I trust my master", "Normally, when people say
things like 'You are His possession, he can do whatever He likes with you', the
next sentence is 'What is the safety word?'" (quote from Steven
Carr in uk.religion.christian. I must say I rather like Gareth's
response. And don't look so innocent, you've been around LiveJournal for long enough now.)
Alas, if these Christians are right, this is not a game and there's no way out.
I might be vainglorious, but I'd prefer the Miltonesque "Satan" over
such a God any day.
Speaking of which, The Torygraph has a transcript
of a discussion between Archbishop Rowan Williams and Philip Pullman,
author of the His Dark Materials trilogy. Williams is a
counterweight to the sort of Christianity which makes me glad I left the
church. Perhaps there's hope for us all yet.