Wednesday, October 15, 2025

Rethinking Hell: What Jesus Really Meant

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the way we talk about Hell. For many in the Reformed tradition, the picture is stark and literal: eternal fire, torment, separation from God. Yet, as I’ve studied Scripture, history, and early Jewish and Christian writings, I find myself increasingly convinced that this view doesn’t align with the heart of God revealed in Jesus. And I want to invite you into this conversation, because it matters, not just intellectually, but pastorally, spiritually, and practically.

Let’s start with the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus in Luke 16. On the surface, it’s easy to read it as a literal story about the afterlife: Lazarus is comforted in Abraham’s bosom, the rich man is in torment, and a great chasm is fixed between them forever. This has often been used as a proof-text for eternal conscious torment (ETC). But a closer look changes everything.

First, Jesus himself is clear about the purpose of parables: He taught “in parables” (Matthew 13:34). Parables are illustrative, symbolic, meant to communicate moral or spiritual truths, not to provide a literal blueprint of the afterlife. The rich man and Lazarus are literary devices, not historical figures. The names themselves are revealing: Lazarus means “God is my help,” highlighting God’s mercy toward the marginalized. The rich man, identified in the Latin Vulgate as Dives, represents the wealthy, self-righteous elite who misunderstand God’s justice.

The context matters. This parable is the fifth in a chain of parables addressing loss, repentance, and grace (Luke 15-16). The first four: The lost sheep, the lost coin, the prodigal son, and the shrewd manager, are clearly symbolic. The Rich Man and Lazarus continues the pattern. Interpreting it as literal fire and punishment distracts from its point, which is the call to repentance, the critique of self-righteousness, and the revelation of God’s mercy.

Early Church Fathers were remarkably consistent on this.
Origen (c. 185-254) saw the parable as symbolic, teaching about divine justice and the reversal of worldly fortunes, not about eternal torment [De Principiis, 4.1.2].
Gregory of Nyssa (c. 335-395) described Hades as a place of purification, eventually restored to God’s mercy [On the Soul and Resurrection, 5].
Isaac of Nineveh emphasised God’s mercy and the eventual healing of all souls [Ascetical Homilies, Homily 34].
None of these Fathers read Luke 16 as a literal depiction of Hell; they consistently framed it within God’s restorative justice.

Even the Old Testament and intertestamental context provides clarity. In Jewish thought, there was not the notion of Eternal Conscious Torment. The idea of the “bosom of Abraham” appears in intertestamental literature (Jewish folklore, not Scripture) as a place of comfort for the righteous who await God’s redemption, not as a heaven-and-hell dichotomy with fixed eternal destinies. (A side note: there was also zero concept of our modern-day idea of Eternity. The Hebrews held instead to the idea of Ages, which were defined as a span of time with a set beginning and a set ending.)
For example, 1 Enoch 22:1-14 describes the righteous as dwelling “in a place of light, with peace and joy,” while the fallen await correction “in a deep pit of darkness until the day of their judgment” - the word translated "Judgement" here means, "To judge, to govern, to make right, to set in order, to vindicate."
Similarly, 1 Enoch 90:25-26 describes punishment as temporary, corrective, and ultimately restorative: “Those who have gone astray shall be punished, but all shall find mercy in the presence of the Lord.” Even in these Jewish texts, punishment is restorative, not eternal torment.

The New Testament reinforces this perspective. Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 15:22 that “as in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive.” Romans 5:18-19 speaks of Christ’s obedience reversing the judgment of sin for all humanity. Revelation, often cited in support of eternal punishment, ultimately presents God’s triumph and restoration: every knee bows, every tongue confesses (Romans 14:11; Philippians 2:10-11), and Revelation 21-22 depicts a restored creation where the gates are open to all.

So why has Western Christianity, particularly Reformed traditions, emphasised eternal conscious torment? Historical influence from Augustine, medieval scholasticism, and later reformers created a framework that reads parables like Luke 16 through a Punitive or Retributive lens.
Martin Luther, for instance, saw the parable as symbolic of earthly riches versus spiritual poverty, but over time, interpretations hardened into literalist readings emphasising fear of Hell. Yet even Luther occasionally acknowledged that “Abraham’s bosom signifies nothing else than the Word of God” (Church Postil, 1522–23).

Modern theologians continue to correct the wrong idea of a literal view of Luke 16: 
N. T. Wright asserts that the parable is precisely that, a parable, not a literal map of the afterlife.
Richard Bauckham highlights that the narrative denies the reader access to secret knowledge about the dead, reinforcing the parable’s illustrative purpose.
David Bentley Hart argues compellingly for universal restoration, noting that eternal torment contradicts the character of a loving and omnipotent God.

When we read Luke 16 alongside these historical and theological insights, a different picture emerges. The parable points out human greed, highlights God’s justice, and celebrates God’s mercy. The “chasm” is not a metaphysical barrier eternally fixed; it is a literary device emphasising the consequences of self-righteousness and hard-heartedness toward God’s mercy. The “fire” is not a literal furnace, but a metaphor for the anguish of living under self-imposed separation from God’s grace.

Psalm 139:7-10 “Where can I go from your Spirit? Or where can I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there! If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!” Even in Sheol - the realm of the dead, which is often translated in English as "hell" - God is present.
David affirms that there is no realm beyond God’s reach. This is a direct contradiction of the idea of a God-forsaken “hell.”

Even the rich man’s plea to warn his brothers, and Abraham’s response is illuminating. The parable points to the sufficiency of God’s revelation: “If they will not listen to Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be persuaded if someone should rise from the dead” (Luke 16:31). This is a warning about human stubbornness and the rejection of God’s mercy, not a literal pronouncement of eternal damnation.
Furthermore, Jesus Himself is clear:
“The Father judges no one, but has entrusted all judgment to the Son.” John 5:22
If the scene in Luke 16 were a literal depiction of post-mortem judgment, Abraham would have no role there at all. He is a patriarch, not the Judge of all the earth. To portray him as the one in control of the “chasm” and the souls within it would directly contradict Christ’s own words.

Abraham is not the mediator of salvation, Scripture repeatedly affirms:
“There is one mediator between God and mankind, the man Christ Jesus.” 1 Timothy 2:5

If Abraham holds people in his bosom and refuses mercy to the rich man, then Abraham becomes the gatekeeper of salvation, a direct violation of this foundational truth. No faithful Jew in Jesus’ audience would have believed Abraham could forgive sins, show mercy, or deny repentance beyond the grave. Jesus deliberately uses Abraham as a symbol of ancestral privilege, the very thing the Pharisees prided themselves on, to show how misguided their trust in lineage had become. 

The doctrine of Hell, as commonly taught, often overlooks these nuances. It presents God as punitive rather than restorative. It elevates fear over love, exclusion over reconciliation, and eternal punishment over eventual restoration. In contrast, a careful reading of Scripture, informed by Jewish historical context, intertestamental literature (1 Enoch 22:1-14; 90:25-26), the early Church Fathers, and contemporary theological scholarship, consistently points to judgment as corrective, restorative, and ultimately reconciliatory.

I say this boldly because I want us to wrestle with the implications. If God is love, merciful, and gracious, then our theology must reflect that. Reading Luke 16, or any passage, through a lens of fear or rigid literalism distorts both the character of God and the intended message of Scripture. The parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus is not about sending anyone to Hell; it is about recognising our need for God’s mercy, turning from self-righteousness, and participating in the life God offers now and into the ages.

We are invited to see God not as a punisher, but as a Redeemer. Not as a judge bent on vengeance, but as a Shepherd longing to gather every lost sheep. Not as a fiery executioner, but as a loving Father whose justice is restorative and whose love ultimately restores all things.

Hell, as a doctrine of eternal torment, does not capture this vision. It is a human invention, a misreading of parables, and a cultural overlay imposed on the text. When we return to Jesus, to the Jewish context, and to the voices of the early Church, the picture is clear: God’s mercy triumphs, God’s justice restores, and the story of salvation is far bigger and more beautiful than we often imagine.


Concluding thoughts. Jesus is the final and clearest revelation of the Nature of God. He made FULLY known what God is like. He only did and said what he saw the Father say and do. Do you believe that?When rejected by a whole village, the disciples wanted to "call down fire" on the entire village to destroy everyone for "rejecting Jesus". Jesus told them that they were operating from the wrong spirit, because God would never do that (Burn those whom rejected him). He perfectly mirrored God's heart in that situation. He said what the father was saying, so that they could see what God was REALLY like.
On the cross when he was rejected and murdered, he perfectly revealed what God is like and Forgave the very same people because they were acting in ignorance - they knew not what they were doing. That's what God is like. Jesus is the final and clearest revelation of the Nature of God. Jesus is perfect theology. If our conclusions or understandings of Scripture land on any interpretation that does not look like Jesus, it's wrong and needs to change. Simple.



If the idea of Modern Hell (Eternal Conscious Torment) being a man-made myth is new to you, 
I encourage you to have a read:

The Rich Man and Lazarus
The Lake of Fire 1
The Lake of Fire 2
To Infinity and Beyond


Thursday, April 17, 2025

The historic Good News

 God’s forgiveness is universal, unconditional, and already accomplished for all humanity. The Gospel is not about what could be if one believes, but about what already is because of God's love and Christ’s work.

This is the simple, scandalous, and historic version of the gospel that was taught by the early church, up until Augustine in about 400AD. 

Forgiveness Is Already a Fact, Not an Offer

The Gospel is not a conditional offer. It’s not God saying, “If you believe, I will forgive you.” That kind of message implies that forgiveness is something held back, waiting to be released by our faith or repentance, as if God's posture toward us depends on our response.

But that’s not the Gospel. The truth is this: in Christ, forgiveness is already accomplished. It is a finished reality (John 1:29; Hebrews 10:10, 14). The cross wasn’t a potential deal. It was the full and final unveiling of God’s heart, a heart that has always been moving toward humanity in love (Romans 5:8). Jesus didn’t come to change God's mind about us. He came to reveal God’s mind toward us, and that mind is mercy (Luke 6:36; Titus 3:4–5).

Faith doesn’t create forgiveness, it receives it. Faith doesn’t persuade God to love us, it allows us to step into the truth that we already are loved (Ephesians 1:4 -7). Forgiveness was never transactional. It’s always been relational. It flows from who God is (Exodus 34:6 -7).

Imagine a mother grieving because she believes her son has died. Someone brings her undeniable proof that he’s alive and well. The moment she believes it, her sorrow breaks and joy returns. Her belief doesn’t make him alive, he already is. But until she believes it, she can’t experience the peace of that reality. Her faith doesn’t earn the good news, it lets her experience it.

The same is true for us. God’s forgiveness isn’t triggered by our belief, it’s already extended (2 Corinthians 5:19; Colossians 1:20 - 22). But without trusting that, we continue to live in fear, guilt, and separation that only exist in our perception. That’s why faith matters: not because it makes the pardon real, but because it lets us be healed by it (John 8:32).

The Gospel is not an offer. It’s a declaration:
You are forgiven. You are loved. You are reconciled.
And believing it doesn’t make it true, it makes it real for you.


Faith Isn’t a Ticket to Forgiveness, It’s How We Experience It

Faith doesn’t trigger forgiveness. It’s not a pass we hand in at the gate to receive pardon. Forgiveness was never waiting on us. It was already accomplished in Christ (2 Corinthians 5:19). We’re not forgiven because we believe, we believe because we’ve already been forgiven (Colossians 2:13 -14).

The cross didn’t create a potential future, it revealed a present and eternal reality. God in Christ reconciled the world to Himself, not counting our sins against us (2 Corinthians 5:19). The good news is not about what could be. It’s about what is. Faith doesn’t make it true, faith allows us to step into the healing, peace, and joy of what’s already true (Romans 5:1; John 8:32).

Imagine someone burdened with shame and guilt, convinced they’re condemned. Then they hear the truth: the sin is already dealt with, and they are fully loved and accepted (Romans 8:1; Ephesians 1:7). The moment they believe it, peace floods in. Not because belief created the pardon, but because faith opened the door to let it in (Hebrews 10:22).

God’s forgiveness isn’t earned. It doesn’t begin when we believe; it began at the cross, “while we were still sinners” (Romans 5:10). Faith doesn’t qualify us; it awakens us. It doesn’t change God’s heart, it transforms ours.

So no, faith isn’t a transaction or a key to unlock a reluctant God’s mercy. It’s the means by which we finally live in what has always been ours (Ephesians 2:8-9; John 3:17). It’s not a requirement to be forgiven — it’s the way we begin to breathe in the life that forgiveness brings.


Much love
Andrew