Rethinking Hell: Readings in Evangelical Conditionalism

Foreword

Ron Hobbs should go to hell.

That was my fervent theological conclusion as a small boy growing up in northern Ontario.

As a precocious five-year-old literally fresh off the Cunard Line boat from England and starting grade 1 in northern Ontario, I had a difficult time connecting with my new Canadian schoolmates. Small, and with an impossibly thick West Country accent, I was an attractive target and immediately made sport of by the available bullies. (I am not kidding about immediately: I was attacked on the schoolyard leaving for home on my first day.) Chief among the tiny thugs who loomed large over my life, however, was Ron Hobbs—two years older and much, much bigger.

Ron, in the inscrutable providence of the deus absconditus, lived in the house directly behind mine. I had to cross through his family’s yard to walk the mile to the elementary school we both attended. Ron quickly sized up the situation and concluded he could have a great deal of fun lying in wait for the little English boy at various points along the route. Perhaps he could jump me immediately upon my setting foot in his backyard. Perhaps he could hide along one of the paths in the woods we used as a shortcut between our suburban bungalows and the school. Perhaps instead he could guess that I would take the long way around, via the road. In as close to an actual cat-and-mouse game that two boys could play, however grimly, I was pursued by this nasty creature for two years.

Yes, two solid years. My parents possessed many good qualities, but responsiveness to the worries of their first-born son, when his younger sisters were more obviously vulnerable and demanding, was not among them. So it was two full years before the elder of my two younger sisters, having watched me get pinned down on the asphalt yet again and get my face punched by Ron Hobbs yet again, told my mother tearfully that she was afraid for me. Roused now to action, my parents spoke to the Hobbses and, decent people that they surely were, the bullying stopped.

Before it did, however, and from time to time thereafter, I devoutly wished Ron Hobbs in hell. He had made every morning’s walk to school and every afternoon’s walk home an exercise in terror. I spent hours at night and during class frantically considering which route today might help me elude him. I comforted myself on particularly bad days with the teaching I received from my evangelical Sunday School teachers about hell: Ron Hobbs would surely go there, and he couldn’t get there fast enough for me.

How long, however, should Ron be kept there? Being a child of lively imagination, as I went to sleep one night—and I couldn’t have been older than eight at the time—I tried to imagine what it would be like to exist in total darkness and in terrible pain with no hope of it ever ending. It took a little while to compose the experience in my mind, but then suddenly it was real. And it was horrible. And I have never forgotten it. Indeed, I can summon up at will now the icy grip on my throat of abject despair. Forever is a long time.

I hated Ron. Let’s not resort to euphemism. I wanted him punished. Even as a boy, though, I thought, Not forever. How could forever make sense? Ron made two years of my life pretty bad, so my intuition was, and is, that someone needed to make that right. And if a long stretch of significant suffering is the way to make such things right—as the Bible, and many of the world’s religions, assert—then Ron should suffer accordingly.

But forever? That seemed both illogical and unworthy of the God I had known, especially in the face of Jesus. God was frighteningly just, to be sure. There was no sugar-coating in my Sunday School! But he was just, not vindictive; scarily fair, yes, but not mean. So the teaching I received of the damned being sustained by God to endure unending torment seemed incongruous to me. And when I was a teenager reading science fiction and thriller novels by the boxload, the figure of the brilliant torturer who found clever medical devices to keep his victim alive and conscious for yet another round of torment struck me as devilish, not divine.

To this day, I have wondered why Christians prefer—as many seem to do—believing in eternal conscious torment (ECT). Now, I understand hatred. I understand vengefulness. And these natural reactions to evil rose in my heart into a whole new register when I discovered as a man that someone I loved had been abused as a girl, and frequently, by her parents. It was all I could do to resist hatching my own real-world plot of death preceded by exquisite suffering for these wretches. But even then, even in my darkest musings, I never approached wishing them eternal conscious torment. It just didn’t make any sense. At some point, a sinner has suffered commensurately with the evil he or she has done, and that is that. No?

Not, it is sometimes said in reply, if you’re dealing with the glory of God. For God’s glory is infinite, and God’s goodness is infinite, and God’s love is infinite, and so any sin against all those infinities must entail infinite suffering.

I have studied just enough mathematics, however, and quite a bit more theology to be suspicious of infinities. Infinity often messes up math equations, and I have found it certainly messes up a variety of theological discussions as well. Well-meaning Christians often use infinite when they should say great or even perfect, such as when they refer to God’s patience. Thank God that God’s patience is not infinite! If it were, justice and peace would be infinitely deferred. No, we need to beware of using infinite, and even more of equating infinities as if we are speaking of the same things just by putting infinite in front of each element.

Yes, God’s goodness has no limits. He is, as the philosophical theologians sometimes put it more carefully, maximally good. God’s power is also maximal, as is God’s wisdom, and love, and so on. God is as good and as great as good and great can be. But to sin against this superb and supreme being does not thereby bring down upon your head the entire weight of God’s glory. Any sin, however small, separates one from God, yes. Only the righteous can ascend God’s holy hill, yes. Nothing impure can enter the kingdom of heaven, yes and amen. But this appropriate binary language (in/out; good/bad) is not sufficient to deal with all that must be dealt with in the question of the just deserts of human evil.

Ron Hobbs treated me much, much worse than did every other child in that school. My intuition is that he therefore deserved much, much worse punishment than did they. Isn’t yours the same? So of course, it seems to me, there must be degrees of punishment exactly proportioned by the Judge of all the earth to the degrees of transgression.

But God is infinitely good, one hears in response, and so there are no degrees of sin. Once you’ve sinned against God, you deserve to suffer forever. Really? Pick your favorite horrible villain, from history or from fiction: No one deserves to suffer any less than does he or she? Isn’t there something wrong with any theological equation that ends up with Caligula/de Sade/Hitler/Stalin = your friend or relative who decided, for whatever reason, not to accept God’s salvation? At least, don’t we hope that there is?

That is the question I want to pose in this foreword. In the book that follows, there are chapters upon chapters of high-quality argument: exegesis of Scriptures, logical deductions, inferences to best explanations, metaphors and thought experiments, and more. I’ve never seen such a book, in fact, that piled up such a rich array of reasons to hold to a particular theological idea. But these resources won’t do the reader any good who doesn’t have any desire to change his or her mind, who prefers to think of ECT as the right way to think about judgment and hell.

So I ask you to consider this basic question: Wouldn’t it be great to be able to believe that God did not keep the damned on a spit, rotating forever in the flames of eternal hellfire? Wouldn’t it be a relief not to think of the saints getting on with the joyful business of the Age to Come without expending considerable energy trying not to think about their loved ones writhing in everlasting agony? Wouldn’t it be reassuring not to have to try to bend one’s mind and, worse, one’s heart into a shape that could somehow give glory to God for afflicting people forever, that could somehow call majestic what seems obviously monstrous?

Don’t get me wrong. And don’t get these authors wrong. Ron Hobbs should go to hell. If he didn’t repent of his sins and receive the stupendous gift of salvation in the sufferings of Jesus Christ on his behalf, then he is every bit the vicious little predator he seemed to be way back then, and hell is precisely what he deserves. He ought to pay for every moment of misery he inflicted on me, to the last drop.

Even more important, of course, is the offense of sin against God. God is offended and offended against by sin, and sin must be dealt with thoroughly on God’s behalf as well as on any of ours. But some Christians seem to think they must be zealous on God’s behalf and require the worst punishment they can imagine. We must be careful, to paraphrase Bonhoeffer, not to be more judgmental than God.

I don’t want to believe in a God who keeps Ron Hobbs in the fire any longer than his sins warrant—do you? And how much suffering does it take to make up for two years of bullying? Or, in the case of my beloved friend, ten years of abuse? A lot, yes. A horrible lot. But not an eternity of it. There is only so much evil one can work in a human lifetime. Infinity just seems immediately, and wildly, out of proportion to a finite amount of sin, however large and virulent.

Now, maybe, of course, the traditional view of ECT is right. If it is, if ECT is truly what the Bible teaches, then I’ll do my very best to believe it and teach it. I won’t like it, but that doesn’t matter: I love God and I trust him above my own reason and experience and moral intuition. Despite whatever might be the theological sophistication I have acquired over the years, if the Bible says it, I’ll believe it, and that settles it.

But if I don’t have to understand the Bible that way, . . . if I don’t have to believe in eternal conscious torment, . . . if someone or, even better, a group of reputable someones can make a powerful case for a view of God’s justice that seems proportionate to human evil . . . and not stretching out infinitely, then why wouldn’t I rejoice to be granted this alternative?

Ten years or so after Ron Hobbs stopped besetting me, I had moved to another part of town, had hit puberty pretty hard, and had worked out enough to play football for my high school team. One night, inside our local hockey arena, I was walking along during an intermission munching a snack, and I nearly bumped into a much smaller fellow about my age who seemed strangely familiar. I stopped. He hadn’t noticed me, as he was smoking a cigarette and staring out onto the ice as the Zamboni cleaned it for the next period of play. But I stared. It was Ron Hobbs. Menace of my childhood, now within striking range—and I was four inches and thirty pounds bigger than he was.

And I felt, looking at that small teenager forlornly looking off into space, that God should deal with him, not me. God would know what to do with him. God would save him, if he would be saved, and punish him rightly if he wouldn’t. And what I still thought, as I thought when I was small, was that Ron Hobbs didn’t deserve an eternity of hopeless pain. God was perfectly wrathful, but not insatiably bloodthirsty. And I have certainly been glad in the subsequent decades to find an interpretation of Holy Scripture that does not require me to believe in a God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ that was actually fiercer about Ron Hobbs than I was.

This book will give you the grounds to believe in an entirely good, entirely righteous God who knows the difference between small sins and large ones, between awful little sinners and awfully big ones, between pathetic foolishness and satanic malevolence—and who judges each aright. Why wouldn’t you want to rejoice in such a theology?

John G. Stackhouse Jr.

Preface

It was a number of years ago that the idea for this book first came to me. I believe it was when my nine-year-old daughter walked into my office, looked over several of my bookshelves with a quizzical expression, and finally asked, Daddy, why do you have so many books about hell? It struck me as a good question, similar to one that many friends and colleagues have asked me over the twenty years I have been studying the topic of hell, particularly focusing on the doctrine of conditional immortality: Why are you so interested in hell?

It is a reasonable question, since the evidence for my somewhat obsessive interest in the topic is obvious to those around me. I have collected over a hundred books on hell, along with countless articles, blog posts, and other media. In seminary, I regularly focused on the doctrine of hell in projects and papers, and later as a pastor, I led presentations on various views of hell in the church, arranged a debate on hell at an evangelical university, and have raised the topic of final judgment in too many conversations to remember. After helping to forge an international project dedicated to the idea of rethinking hell, I have now had the privilege of working with some colleagues to select significant excerpts from conditionalist writings to reprint as a book on hell, as well as organizing an international conference on conditionalism. During these years, I have often faced alienation and marginalization from peers who have vehemently disagreed with me, along with the ongoing potential of losing my job over the view of hell that I held. So it truly is a question that should be answered.

The truth is, however, that I am not really that interested in the topic of hell itself. (And to be quite honest, I was never very drawn to the study of any eschatological subject: debates over the timing of Christ’s return, views on the nature of the tribulation and millennium, and musing on the intermediate state have always felt very tiresome and speculative to me.) Hell is a rather morbid topic, to my mind, and it seems almost in bad taste to spend too much time dwelling upon it, though it is certainly important to understand the doctrine as it relates to God’s character and human destiny, and to be able to communicate the reality of judgment, justice, and punishment as part of Christian belief.

My abiding interest in hell, and the reason why I’ve poured so much of my thought, resources, and conviction into this topic, has to do with the fact that there are so many Christians who claim quite confidently that hell will consist of eternal conscious torment, yet I personally (and surprisingly) have found the biblical, theological, and philosophical evidence for this perspective to be weak and insubstantial. In contrast, I discovered that the case for conditional immortality and the final destruction of the unsaved was comprehensive and compelling: this view seemed to be derived from the clear and consistent language of Scripture, it had an internal coherence that made sense of the overarching narrative of redemptive history, and it resolved philosophical and intuitive difficulties that have plagued generations of Christians and non-Christians alike for centuries.

And yet despite my own experience of the inferiority of the traditional view and the seemingly clear evidence and scriptural basis of the conditionalist view, there were so many other thoughtful and intelligent believers who have claimed the exact opposite—in fact, eternal conscious torment has been the position of the majority of Christians throughout church history. And this is what has made me, and so many others, obsess over the issue. How can it be that the evidence in favor of conditionalism appears so clear to those of us who have been convinced and yet is received with such skepticism by our fellow Christians? This experience is baffling, having an almost Kafkaesque quality to it, and it is honestly what has driven my own obsessive interest in the topic. I just don’t understand how I can simultaneously feel so right and so wrong.

For instance, in an article in the alumni publication of the evangelical Christian university where I had worked for a number of years, an expert on the topic of hell had this to say about the view I hold:

There have been individuals within the broad evangelical community who have subscribed to this view of annihilationism, which basically is the idea that the unbeliever will be tormented for a particular amount of time in hell but will eventually be terminated or annihilated. It’s the idea that fire destroys and brings things to an end—to ashes. It’s the idea of conscious, but not eternal torment. I’m not quite sure if there’s any biblical basis for this. From what I’ve seen and what I’ve read, the problem seems to be more existential, more emotional than scriptural and textual. Annihiliationism is held by some theologians in the church—Clark Pinnock, Edward Fudge—but to be honest, textually speaking I’m not quite sure how they can affirm this.

I remember reading the words I’m not quite sure if there’s any biblical basis for this and feeling a depth of incredulity and perplexity that confounded me to my core. Of course I understand that Christians have different interpretations of Scripture, but this author’s dismissive attitude and ignorance of the careful biblical study of the highest level of evangelical scholars exemplifies the frustrating reality of presumptuous conjectures and careless conclusions that conditionalists face within evangelical circles. Having been told there are no legitimate grounds for holding our view, we have returned to the biblical texts and the theological and philosophical arguments to reexamine if we have indeed misread the texts or misunderstood the evidence for our view somehow. Surely our evangelical brothers and sisters have deeply reflected on the basis for their beliefs and are not simply asserting their view out of blind adherence to the traditional doctrine of eternal conscious torment that has been handed down to them, right? So we research and read some more, looking for the place where we must have gone wrong in our study of the topic. And yet we arrive, in the end, at the same conclusion favoring conditionalism. But when we share these results, once again, traditionalists are adamant that there are no credible reasons for holding our view.

At times, the experience of being dismissed by others as emotional, eccentric, or even heretical, combined with others’ unwillingness to actually review the evidence for conditionalism has been both confusing and deeply troubling, particularly given the fact that evangelicals claim to base their beliefs on their study of Scripture and not merely on the authority of any tradition. So my passionate interest in hell has primarily been an exercise in challenging myself and others to test our commitment to the authority of God’s revelation in the Bible over unexamined tradition, which would be the same with any other accepted doctrine that did not appear to stand up to exegetical investigation.

G. K. Chesterton famously said, The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting; it has been found difficult and left untried. Something similar could be said about the doctrine of conditional immortality in terms of most Christians’ willingness to explore the topic. Our hope with this book is that it will provide readers with a collection of solid evangelical voices in support of conditionalism in order to make their study of our view as accessible and focused as possible. (It will also save them the hassle of having to track down the many books from which these chapters are taken, most of which are out of print, hard to find, or expensive to obtain.) If our readers still reject this view, it will not be because they have not considered the best arguments for our perspective (although they would benefit tremendously from also reading Edward Fudge’s definitive exploration of the topic in his book The Fire that Consumes). Hopefully, at the very least, my own friends who get this book can have a more accurate understanding of why I and other conditionalists have such an intense interest in the topic of hell. And perhaps someday my daughter will take up this volume too, and discover just why all those books, in a manner of speaking, have a place on every Christian’s shelves.

Greg Stump

Acknowledgments

The editors would like to thank those who have helped to make this book possible through their support, generosity, and encouragement in various ways, including those involved in the Rethinking Hell project (Joseph Dear, Ronnie Demler, Aaron Fudge, Dan Holmes, Nick Quient, Daniel Sinclair, John JT Tancock, William Tanksley Jr., and Jeff Whittum), many of whom assisted in our research and helped to review our manuscript; those who helped us trace down permissions for various works, including Richard Eldridge, I. Howard Marshall, Elijah Smith, and Paul Wolfe; those who provided us with archival materials, including Berry Driver, Allison Kirchner, John Roller, David Wenham, and Simon Wenham; those who assisted us with the cost of obtaining permissions, including Debbie Bostian, Katherine Lo, Pat and Kathy Ogle, Shellie Soares, Don and Eileen Stump, Mark and Joanne Stump, and John JT Tancock.

We would like to especially thank all those authors or publishers who granted us permission to use various excerpts at no or minimal cost, including Everett Berry, Ralph Bowles, Tom DeVries, the editors of the Evangelical Quarterly, LeRoy Froom (grandson of L. E. Froom), Christopher Marshall, Mike Parsons, Jon Pott, E. Randolph Richards and the board of the International Reference Library for Biblical Research, Stephen Travis, Ben Witherington, and Nigel Wright.

Special thanks to Edward Fudge, John Stackhouse, Glenn Peoples, Peter Grice (for bringing us all together) and particularly to our editor at Wipf & Stock, Robin Parry, who painlessly guided us through the process of proposal, submission, and publication.

Permissions

Bowles, Ralph G. Does Revelation 14:11 Teach Eternal Torment? Evangelical Quarterly 73.1 (2001) 21–36. © Paternoster Periodicals, Nottingham, England. Reprinted by permission from the editors of Evangelical Quarterly.

Edwards, David L., and John R. W. Stott. Evangelical Essentials: A Liberal-Evangelical Dialogue. © 1988 Hodder and Stoughton, London. Pages 312–20, reprinted by permission of Hodder and Stoughton Limited; all rights reserved.

Ellis, E. Earle. New Testament Teaching on Hell. In Eschatology in Bible & Theology. © 1999 International Reference Library for Biblical Research (IRLBR), Fort Worth, TX. Reprinted by permission from IRLBR; all rights reserved.

Evangelical Alliance Commission on Unity and Truth among Evangelicals (ACUTE). The Nature of Hell: A Report by the Evangelical Alliance Commission on Unity and Truth Among Evangelicals ACUTE. © 2000 Evangelical Alliance, London. Portions of chapters 9 and 10 reprinted by permission from the Evangelical Alliance; all rights reserved.

Froom, LeRoy E. The Conditionalist Faith of Our Fathers. © 1959 LeRoy E. Froom. Portions of chapters 44–46, 51–52, 54, and 63 reprinted by permission from the Froom estate; all rights reserved.

Fudge, Edward W. The Final End of the Wicked. In Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 27.3 (1984) 325–34. © Edward Fudge. Reprinted by permission of the author; all rights reserved.

Hughes, Philip E. The True Image. © 1989 Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, Grand Rapids. Chapter 37 reprinted by permission of the publisher; all rights reserved.

Marshall, Christopher D. Beyond Retribution. © 2001 Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, Grand Rapids. Portions of chapter 4 reprinted by permission of the publisher; all rights reserved.

Olson, Roger E. The Mosaic of Christian Belief. © 2002 Roger E. Olson. Portions of chapter 14 reprinted by permission of InterVarsity Press, Downers Grove, IL; all rights reserved.

Papaioannou, Kim G. The Geography of Hell in the Teaching of Jesus. © 2013 Wipf and Stock, Eugene, OR. Portions of Part I and of Synopsis and Synthesis reprinted by permission of the publisher.

Pinnock, Clark H. The Destruction of the Finally Impenitent. Criswell Theological Review 4.2 (1990) 243–59. © Criswell College, Dallas, TX. Reprinted by permission of the publisher; all rights reserved.

Swinburne, Richard G. Responsibility and Atonement. © 1989 Oxford University Press, Oxford. Pages 179–84, reprinted by permission of the publisher; all rights reserved.

Thiselton, Anthony C. Life After Death. © 2011 Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, Grand Rapids. Portions of chapter 9 reprinted by permission of the publisher; all rights reserved.

Travis, Stephen H. Christ Will Come Again: Hope for the Second Coming of Jesus. © 2004 Clements, Toronto, Ontario. Portions of chapter 6 reprinted by permission from the publisher; all rights reserved.

Wenham, John W. The Case for Conditional Immortality. In Universalism and the Doctrine of Hell, edited by Nigel M. de S. Cameron. © 1992 Baker Academic, a division of Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids. Reprinted by permission of the publisher; all rights reserved.

Witherington, Ben III. The Bible and Culture blog. © Ben Witherington III. Portions of Hell? No?? (http://www.patheos.com/blogs/bibleandculture/2011/03/16/hell-no/), Matthew 10:28—Why Annihilationism is not Universalism (http://www.patheos.com/blogs/bibleandculture/2011/03/18/mt-10–28-why-anihilationism-is-not-universalism/), and And Now—The Case for Permanent Residence in Hell (http://www.patheos.com/blogs/bibleandculture/2011/03/19/and-now-the-case-for-permanent-residence-in-hell/) reprinted by permission of the author; all rights reserved.

Wright, Nigel G. The Radical Evangelical: Seeking a Place to Stand. © 1996 Nigel Wright. Portions of chapter 7 reprinted by permission of the author; all rights reserved.

Abbreviations

Reference Works

ANF Ante-Nicene Fathers. Edited by Philip Schaff et al. 10 vols. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1996.

APOT Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha of the Old Testament. Edited by R. H. Charles. London: Oxford University Press, 1913.

DCB Dictionary of Christian Biography, Literature, Sects and Doctrines; during the First Eight Centuries. Edited by William Smith and Henry Wace. 4 vols. London: 1877–87.

NPNF Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers. First series 14 vols; second series 14 vols. Edited by Philip Schaff et al. Reprint. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1996.

OTP Old Testament Pseudepigrapha. Edited by James Charlesworth. 2 vols. 1983. Reprint. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2010.

TDNT Theological Dictionary of the New Testament. Edited by Gergard Kittle and Gerhard Friedrich. Translated by Geoffrey Brimiley. 10th ed. 10 vols. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1977.

Periodicals

CTR Criswell Theological Review

EuroJTh European Journal of Theology

ExpTim Expository Times

JBL Journal of Biblical Literature

JETS Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society

JTS Journal of Theological Studies

NTS New Testament Studies

WTJ Westminster Theological Journal

Scriptures and Other Ancient Sources

ESV English Standard Version

Scriptures

Hebrew Bible/Old Testament

Gen

Exod

Lev

Num

Deut

Josh

Judg

Ruth

1–2 Sam

1–2 Kgs

1–2 Chr

Ezra

Neh

Esth

Job

Ps (pl. Pss)

Prov

Eccl (or Qoh)

Song

Isa

Jer

Lam

Ezek

Dan

Hos

Joel

Amos

Obad

Jonah

Mic

Nah

Hab

Zeph

Hag

Zech

Mal

New Testament

Matt

Mark

Luke

John

Acts

Rom

1–2 Cor

Gal

Eph

Phil

Col

1–2 Thess

1–2 Tim

Titus

Phlm

Heb

Jas

1–2 Pet

1–2-3 John

Jude

Rev

Apocrypha/deuterocanonical books

1–2 Esd

Jdt

Old Testament Pseudepigrapha

As. Mos. Assumption of Moses

4 Macc. 4 Maccabees

Pss. Sol. Psalms of Solomon

Early Church Fathers

Barn. Epistle of Barnabas

1 Clem. First Clement

2 Clem. Second Clement

Diogn. Letter of Diognetus

Ign. Eph. Ignatius’ Letter to the Ephesians

Ign. Magn. Ignatius’ Letter to the Magnesians

Ath. Res. Athanasius’ On the Resurrection of the Dead

Orig. Prin. Origen’s First Principles

De Inc. Athanasius’ On the Incarnation of the Word

Editor’s Introduction

It has been my experience that Christians are frequently shocked to discover that many notable and respected evangelical scholars are conditionalists and have rejected the traditional view of hell as eternal conscious torment. Contributing to this phenomenon is the fact that few such scholars in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries have written book-length defenses of conditionalism. Edward Fudge is one of a handful of exceptions; most have instead articulated or defended conditionalism in smaller portions of books written about other topics, or covering a variety of topics, many of which are difficult to obtain. It is therefore not always easy to direct curious traditionalists (not to mention hostile ones) to these authors’ published support for conditionalism.

Rethinking Hell: Readings in Evangelical Conditionalism is meant to serve as a resource to help solve that problem by compiling some of what these various conditionalist scholars have written into one convenient publication, saving inquisitive traditionalists and universalists, and the conditionalists who love them, hundreds of dollars—and precious real estate on the bookshelf. However, the works featured in this volume were written and published across decades and centuries, in multiple countries, differ in style, and overlap at times in content. For these reasons and others, creating a wide-ranging collection but with the feel of a single book required some effort.

In no case has an author’s originally intended meaning been changed or muzzled, even where one or more of the editors disagrees with it, or otherwise does not endorse it. A number of minor, mostly stylistic changes have been required, however, in order to unify the original works collected in this volume. For example, works have been edited to conform to American spelling and standards of punctuation. Saviour, for example, has become Savior, quotes are enclosed in quotation marks (double-quotes) rather than in apostrophes (single-quotes), and commas and periods precede closing quotation marks. Likely to go unnoticed by all but the most meticulous comparisons of these reproductions to their originals are replacements of for ever with forever, per cent with percent, and so on.

Abbreviated citations of biblical and other ancient texts have been made to conform to a unified standard. Endnotes have been converted to footnotes. Works originally cited in long-form footnote citation are instead cited in short-form, with their expanded details included in a comprehensive bibliography at the end of the book. The style of all headings have been modified to conform to a unified style. Divine pronouns (he, him, his, etc.) originally capitalized have been made lower-case.

In most cases, original citations of different editions of the same book have been updated to cite a single shared edition, the one exception being Edward Fudge’s The Fire That Consumes. Where an author cites or quotes The Fire That Consumes, the edition cited is indicated by the year in which the cited edition was published (1982 or 2011). Most citations of early church fathers have been modified to quote and cite Roberts and Donaldson’s The Ante-Nicene Fathers or Schaff and Wace’s The Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, to make it easier for readers to look up the cited text.

Part One consists of two introductory chapters of original content from members of the Rethinking Hell team. Part Two reproduces the works of those authors consistently identified, even by traditionalists, as being most responsible for reigniting the modern debate over conditionalism. In an effort to avoid duplication of themes and ideas as much as possible in the remaining authors, original works or excerpts thereof have been chosen that complement one another, and have been organized into groups with others that focus on similar topics: Scripture in Part Three, philosophy in Part Four, history in Part Five, and evangelicalism in Part Six. The book is thus laid out in such a way as to be read from beginning to end, while at the same time enabling readers to more easily locate works in categories in which they’re specifically interested.

Each editor was responsible for one or more parts of the book, which entailed writing short introductions to their sections and biographical sketches introducing their chapters’ authors, as well as proofreading reproduced works by comparing them to their originals. Greg was responsible for Part Two, and wrote the preface as the book was his original idea. Joshua was responsible for Parts Four and Six, and I oversaw Parts One, Three, and Five. I also compiled the bibliography, converted the original works into manuscript form through a combination of optical character recognition and manual transcription, and prepared the final manuscript for submission to our publisher.

We hope and pray with confidence that Rethinking Hell: Readings in Evangelical Conditionalism will personally edify you, the reader. If you are already convinced of conditionalism, you will find encouragement in the caliber of scholarship supporting your view, and may find yourself better prepared to articulate and defend it. If, on the other hand, you currently believe in the traditional view of hell, or that eventually everyone will be saved, even if you remain convinced of it after reading this book, you’ll better understand why so many of us have felt forced to reject it in favor of conditionalism. Hopefully, like the authors in Part Six, you’ll begin to see us as your brothers and sisters in Christ, if you don’t already.

Or, quite possibly, you’ll find yourself rethinking hell, too.

Chris Date

part one

Rethinking Hell

1

Igniting an Evangelical Conversation

Peter S. Grice

Peter Grice is a founder of the Rethinking Hell project, a global network of evangelical scholars, teachers, and laypeople who are exploring the doctrine of conditional immortality. He also serves as president of Think Christianity, which promotes Christian thought in contemporary life, and director of the TELOS Program®, a unique Christian worldview and apologetics training program. Peter writes and teaches on topics such as science, culture, and worldviews, and contributed a chapter on reason and Christian faith to the book True Reason: Confronting the Irrationality of the New Atheism. He lives in Brisbane, Australia with his wife Anchalee and son Lewis.

Much like hell itself, conditionalism usually takes you by surprise. At least, that’s how it was for a number of evangelical Christians who stumbled into a clearing at the turn of the twenty-first century, and began to encounter this paradigm together.

Like most card-carrying evangelicals, we had blissfully assumed that when it comes to widely held Christian beliefs, all of the theological dust had settled. In our tradition, a relatively obscure doctrine like conditional immortality isn’t supposed to resurface and challenge the dominant view. We are open to this kind of thing in principle, of course, as good students of the Protestant Reformation. But we are ready, with unwritten laws about how biblical such challenges could possibly be, and from which inauspicious sources they must surely emanate.

Those were my cynical expectations too, so I was not prepared for conditionalism to commend itself with such biblical force, in an unmistakably evangelical voice. Neither did I anticipate that the response from critics would prove to be lackluster, at least thus far. Hardly any of us did, in fact. Nor did we expect a steady stream of others emerging from the woods, pondering with us the same issues, and noticing those discrepancies in the terrain.

Only some of the new conditionalists were left scratching their heads, however, since among our company were those who had arrived on the scene a little sooner, including, as would become clear, some of the world’s leading Bible scholars and teachers. Even they weren’t there first, given the long history of conditionalism—which of course has something to do with the present volume.

In terms of the Christian milieu, the renowned evangelical leader and critic of conditionalism, J. I. Packer, had just been succeeded at Regent College by a notable proponent of our view, John G. Stackhouse Jr. For conditionalists, this symbolized a shift we’d been noticing for some time. Packer’s longstanding influence could be compared to that of another architect of contemporary evangelicalism, the late John Stott, who instead embraced conditionalism (a position he’d held tentatively for some fifty years) and pleaded for more open dialogue. Late last century, and not without irony, Packer had urged caution on this issue to the National Association of Evangelicals in the United States, who came close to ruling that conditionalism—and by implication Stott himself—was incompatible with evangelicalism. Perhaps due to the remarkably narrow margin, the real significance of this is often overlooked: conditionalism was deemed to be acceptable. This would be the case in the United Kingdom as well, when with less fanfare the Evangelical Alliance would formally review the doctrine, and explicitly conclude that it is indeed a legitimate alternative view on hell.

Meanwhile, a landmark written defense of conditionalism had been quietly straddling the two centuries, simultaneously fueling the controversy and helping to resolve it. Edward Fudge’s The Fire That Consumes, an enduring work which many credit with the resurgence of this view in our time, was to receive an endorsement and new foreword in 2011 by another leading conditionalist scholar, Richard Bauckham of Cambridge.

In the same year, the popular American pastor Rob Bell published a book on hell that drew the ire of many evangelicals, and in some circles his name became a byword for one who departs from the fold. It seemed as though Bell had crossed a line, not so much for critiquing the traditional view, but for appearing to advocate universalism in its stead. What really concerned many was that a doctrine that was long ago condemned by the church could return so swiftly on the wings of popular Christian culture, exploiting new forms of media for their ease of communication and rapid distribution. If the printing press could catalyze the Protestant Reformation, it stands to reason that the advent of the internet in our time may yet lead to more doctrinal revision. Without any guarantees that this be done on biblical grounds, evangelicals in particular have become unsettled. Universalism was indeed on the rise, appearing in other books and publications, and harnessing new media forms with the theatrical release of the documentary Hellbound? Conditionalism had its own foray into cinema as well, in the form of Hell and Mr. Fudge, a feature-length biographical film about the social ramifications of Edward Fudge’s theological plight in the 1980s.

Those kinds of tensions and concerns need to be managed well, and this may require the established position to be more open to scrutiny. Numerous credible voices are saying that traditionalism is not as biblically defensible as has long been assumed. Some have even suggested that the doctrine of hell is the unfinished business of the Reformation. If this is