A Question About Damnation, Sabbath-Keeping, Rules, And Relationship

A reader writes:

I was wondering if you could help me. I’ve seen a number of testimonials by those who have had near death experiences as well as some of the visions of the Saints as well as writings of the fathers that describe the torture at the hands of the demons in hell.

None of which, of course, are binding on the consciences of the faithful as something we have to believe are actual descriptions of hell. The very good reason for this is that those who go to hell (assuming there are any) do not return. We believe in hell for one reason: because Jesus–who oughtta know–warns of it. Saints are free to speculate about it. Those who experience NDEs may have experienced something terrible as a stern act of grace. But those who go to hell do not get back out to give reports on it. Once you make that final choice, you don’t unmake it. The gates of hell are barred from within. Hell is not something extrinsic to our sin. It is our sin in fruition.

I know that God is perfectly loving and just, but I can’t wrap my mind around the justice of allowing such terrible torments in hell. For example, it surely cannot be just to torment a soul for eternity because he deliberately missed mass on Sunday to go to a football game, and yet the Catechism states that this is a grave sin.

I think perhaps part of the problem is that we Americans tend to approach the life of discipleship in terms of rules instead of in terms of relationship, to conceive of sin not in light of virtue, but in light of observing regulations. Consider the guy who got married and was full of sighs and passion for the beauty of his mistress’ eyebrow. He used to dote on her as she still loves him. But over time, his eye has wandered. Now he works late under dodgy circumstances with his hot secretary in whom he has much more interest. He might miss his anniversary, and when his wife confronts him about it, he might well say, “Look, what’s the big deal? I forgot”. But the point is not really about keeping a rule about a calendar date. It’s about what he is no longer investing in the relationship.

I think something similar obtains with the regulation about Sunday Mass. The Church is expressing, in the language of juridical rules, something that goes much deeper. It’s pretty much how institutions have to talk when addressing a large anonymous crowd of people. They can’t say, “O my people! Would that you loved God! We wouldn’t even have to talk about Minimum Daily Adult Requirements for Mass attendance because you would want to go every day without somebody laying out a rule for you. But since you insist on framing the discussion like a husband asking “How often do I have to kiss my wife?” then here is your answer: at least go to Mass on Sundays. The idea is, in fact one of compromise and concession to our cold and sluggish hearts when the actual desire of God is that we love him with our heart, soul, mind and strength.

Seen in that light the contrast between the ardor of God and the torpor of man makes comprehensible why neglect of the Sunday obligation is not about punishment for not keeping rules but is–like missing anniversaries and constantly staying late at the office with the secretary–an indicator that a relationship that is supposed to be rooted in love is very likely in real trouble. It’s not about getting docked brownie points for missing appointments. It’s about pointing to the fact that we need to do an attitude check and repent, lest we lose that relationship, perhaps eternally.

I’m starting to think, therefore, along the lines of some Christians that purgatory and hell are only different in the willingness for one to let go of his attachment to sin for Christ’s sake. Is that a defensible position?

Works for me. There are, as C.S. Lewis says, only two possible outcomes to our lives. Either we say and fundamentally mean “Thy will be done” to God or God, in the end, says “Thy will be done” to us. The latter is what we call “hell”.