Unedited. A little after my freshman year began here at Texas A&M (Sept. 29, 2006):
Universalism is a touchy subject for churchy people. Funny thing is, in actuality we all are, and once were: universalists.
When I was a kid, I figured everyone around me was going to go to heaven after they died. Heaven is taught a lot more than hell to kids (though some people are trying to change that), and being at least marginally far from insane as a child, I didn’t consider anyone around me to be worthy of eternal torment. The people around me were my world, and in my world, everyone went to heaven.
Just as well, in the world today there is hardly a person alive who believes in some sort of eternal dwelling and also thinks themselves unworthy of it. We’re all saved. Yet, some people will assert others are not, and the others will assert that these people are not, and you have either pluralism and confusion. That’s not a typo. Wrap your mind around that philosopher.
As I grew older, beliefs and the politics thereof crept into my mind. Dissatisfied with simple answers to huge questions (shove it Occam’s razor), I sought out more. What I got to is that the standards I had as a child were a little lax. Humanity’s standards of justice typically put serial killers and terrorists in hell, but few others. The tendency is to gradually move along the spectrum of leniency until you get to the book of Romans (I’m not reading this out of context, and yes, I understand your interpretation) where “No one is good, not one.” It’s just not fun (or worthwhile) to pursue religious activities when the fruit of your actions is no different than the non-participators.
But the thing is, deep down inside we just earnestly hope universalism is true. We don’t hope our own beliefs are false, we just hope everyone will be saved. There’s a difference, I think. Some I guess will cite the practicality of meeting the requirements of an exclusive system (one in which everyone is not saved) citing game theory (though note that no atheist will believe something simply because of the proposition that it’s better for them, beliefs don’t work that way). Others find it hard to reconcile with their particular scriptures, and others are just so entrenched in their thinking one way or the other that they refuse to open their minds to the possibility.
I think the last one is the worst. Being a church-goer myself, there is a certain element of brainwashing that does take place. I’d like to say it’s good, that they’re being indoctrinated with “truth”, but the rate at which I change my mind on pivotal issues is astounding (to me and others). Unfortunately, people are unable to look at something with any degree of objectivity, at least allowing an idea to be entertained in their heads. I’m not saying you have to even declare “hey, I’m thinking about a heretical (sometimes) idea!” but an open mind would be appreciated (just not too open, you might catch a cold).
Atheists like to call themselves “free thinkers” because they’re free from the confines of religious dogma. But most of the time, they’re confined to the religious dogma of anti-religion and atheism. I think another term used is “bright”, but it’s not widely used because it seems to be a little harsh to the religious people. I read an essay once that allowed for religious people to be “free thinkers”. Thank you.
The principle Christian fruit of the spirit is joy. Joy differs from happiness in most word definition battles, in that joy is deeper. Where happiness might come from a good day or a compliment, joy comes from almost a lifestyle. For me, in orthodox Christianity, joy is hard to come by. This may be different for other people for varying reasons, but it’s really hard to look at unbelievers and know that according to your definitions of faith, hell, and the doctrine required for salvation, they will likely end up being tormented for eternity. What they have now is the best they will ever have, and sadly, it’s hardly great.
There are sufferings of all sorts even outside of poverty. I think hardship and suffering end up affecting a person depending upon the degree in which they’ve suffered before. In that sense, the breakup that “that preppy girl” went through might be just as emotionally traumatic as going hungry for another day. Maybe even more so (gasp). That sounds ludicrous to say, but with almost all human sentiments, we feel change rather than absolutes. More like the derivatives. You can’t sense speed, but you can feel the change in speed: acceleration. Lying down to bed is almost catastrophic after a great night with friends, but after a long day of digging trenches with a hoe and shovel, it is bliss. Loneliness is killer to the stereotyped, popular person in high school. To the introverted computer nerd, it’s a way of life (and efficient at that).
It’d be pointless and hard to defend for me to say that because we’ve suffered just a bit in this life, we deserve something greater. No, that’s not what I’m saying. Nor am I saying that God’s standards are the same as our own. Whereas God is (and rightly so) offended by our unbelief, this seems like a trivial sin in light of rape and theft. But this still leaves us with a problem: a world of suffering people doomed to suffer more.
God is love. A lot of people will argue that if I, Stefan, in my imperfect love would willingly save the world (had I the power), including the people who had wronged me and hurt me, how much more would God do? I think that’s a good question. I also think the alternative deserves some thought. God created all men, knowing full well some would never get the evidence they wanted or the experience they needed to accept him (free will it up all you want, there’s still the environmental factors that effect every decision we make). And those who didn’t would be punished eternally. ?. Or how about in the most amazing show of grace the universe has ever seen, God sends himself to die for humanity (“greater love knows no man than this…”), and even though they continue to spit in his face (even the believers), he ultimately brings them all to salvation through faith in His Christ.
When I think about the latter, I get really giddy. I look out through the window that I simply adore and see people walking to get themselves drunk, or to slave away at books, or whatever. I see people who are happy, and those who are upset, small people, tall people, smart and dumb, black and white (and yellow and red), and I think of a God who will save them. I think of a God who will pull them out of this life, show them Himself, and save them through faith even though they piss on his name and pretend he doesn’t exist. I think about the God who is the savior of “all men, especially those who believe”, and finally I can look out that window and say to myself, this is joy, the fruit of the spirit. I think that makes me a hippie and an idealist.