Category Archives: Theology

The Conscience of the Kingdom: A Third Way for Christians Caught Between Isolationism and Constantinianism

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Christians today seem to be having a difficult time navigating the always choppy and often treacherous waters of public discourse and cultural involvement. Something seems “off” with many of the interactions (or lack of interaction) with issues of the day—whether that’s political, social, or moral. How should a Christian situate herself in the cacophony of voices in such a way that others will not only hear her voice but listen to her voice? How can a Christ-follower do this in a way that honors his Savior and acknowledges Him alone as Lord of heaven and earth? When it comes to Christians engaged in society and politics, they have often dichotomized the issue into two mutually exclusive tendencies—“Constantinianism” or “Isolationism.” In doing so, they have neglected a classic approach more typical of the early church of the first few centuries.

An Isolationist tendency is about withdrawal. In this approach, Christians turn inward, disengage from the world of society and politics, and focus on things that concern the everyday life of the church. The world rages, problems increase, morality degenerates, unjust laws are passed, politicians reign, and wars are fought. At the same time, Christians attend their Christian churches, read their Christian literature, watch Christian movies, listen to Christian music, and spend almost all of their time with Christian people talking about Christian things. Their orientation toward the world of politics, social issues, and cultural changes is one of remoteness (the world is “out there”), passivity (the world is out of control) and complacency (there’s nothing we can do about it anyway). In its modest form, isolationists muzzle themselves with regard to political speech, they hold their tongue in the face of social injustices, and they withdraw from activities that appear too political or worldly. In its radical form, isolationists neglect basic Christian outreach like evangelism, missions, and helping the suffering. In Isolationism, the Church retreats from the State to protect itself from wickedness; but in isolationism the Church loses its witness.

On the other side of the spectrum we find Constantinianism. In this approach, Christians take on the world by use of political and legal means. They often form strategic alliances with political parties, organizations, and leaders—whether Christian or not—to help them advance their Christian priorities and values. These values, of course, depend on the Christian’s theological perspective. They could align with a political organization to advance a certain moral position among lawmakers or the courts. Or they could invest time, money, and energy in a political action group to address a particular social or economic cause. For the sake of political, social, or moral victories, Constantinians empower a “strongman”—whether that’s a literal politician, a political party, or an organization. Christians in the fourth century joined hands with Constantine to advance their positions and ultimately became pawns in political interests themselves. Today, advocates of this Constantinian approach are always on the lookout for the next “Charlemagne” to crown as their king . . . or the next “Cyrus” to identify as their savior. The result is the Christian testimony rises and falls with the party or politician. And both the Christians and the world fail to distinguish the priorities of the one from the values of the other. In Constantinianism, the Church unites with the State to promote its churchly agenda; but in reality, the State uses the Church to promote its own worldly agenda.

A quite different approach from Isolationism and Constantinianism can be found among most Christian leaders of the first few centuries. We’ll call this the Conscience of the Kingdom model. In this approach, Christians uncompromisingly commit to the Lordship of Jesus Christ with regard to their priorities and values, morals and message. They surrender none of these to any other lord or any other leader. The Church is the community of their primary allegiance, which they will share with no other party or political organization. However, Conscience Christians view their relationship to the world as analogous to the conscience of an individual. On the basis of God’s Word and in allegiance to the Lord Jesus Christ, Christians speak and act on behalf of righteousness. Christians address political corruption, weigh in on social ills, take righteous action on behalf of truth, justice, and mercy, and do so in ways that refuse either to empower a “strongman” or take shelter in a bunker. All of this is done in a manner that reflects the fruit of the Spirit and the virtues of faith, hope, and love. Conscience Christians avoid any alliances or allegiances that would surrender their ability to speak prophetically to the “Herods” of their day. And they refuse to surrender the impartiality necessary to serve as the conscience of the kingdoms of their age. This kind of approach almost always means withdrawing membership and loyalty to political parties and political action organizations, but it never means retreating from political, social, cultural, and moral engagement. It means boldly but lovingly speaking out against unrighteousness and injustice while promoting righteousness and justice—assuming, of course, that Christians are actually living out righteousness and justice themselves! In the Conscience of the Kingdom approach, the Church neither unites with nor retreats from the State; rather, she lives as the Church in the State and speaks as the Church to the State. Yes, in many cases, the Conscience of the Kingdom model leads to the State’s attempts at silencing the prophetic voice of the Church, often violently. But in countless cases throughout history, by the grace of God, the nagging conscience of the kingdom wore away at the world’s wickedness and resulted in real, long-term, genuine change.

It simply isn’t true that Christians today have only two choices when it comes to political and social engagement. We aren’t stuck with only two options: empowering the strongman or heading for the hills. We have an option to serve and honor Christ alone as Lord by living out Christ’s righteousness, speaking out for righteousness, and thus promoting righteousness beyond the walls of the Church.

Once Again, I REJECT and REPUDIATE All Date-Setting and “Astrallegory”

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astrologyI have been emailed about it. I have been phoned. I have been Facebooked and Tweeted. Websites by cracked-brain fanatics have misused articles I’ve written as “evidence” for the veracity of their lunacy. However, despite their creative (read: fanciful), detailed (read: speculative) interpretations (read: “astrallegory”), these self-proclaimed “Watchers” (Revelation 12 sign proponents) will not get me to budge a millimeter on my insistence that Jesus, Paul, and Peter were right and they are wrong.

If you don’t know what I’m talking about, consider yourself blessed. If you’re at all curious about the latest outbreak of acute Date-Setting Syndrome, just start and end your inquiry here. (Yes, I just recommended a Wikipedia article.) The gist is that the sun, moon, and stars alignment with the woman in Revelation 12 will be literally fulfilled on September 23, 2017, and that this will be the sign heralding the rapture of the church (or, I suppose, some other significant eschatological event pointed to when the rapture doesn’t appear as ordered).

Yes, in both scholarly and popular contexts (as well as in my teaching), I have argued that the catching up of the male son in Revelation 12:5 is best interpreted as a vision of the future resurrection/rapture of the church described in 1 Thessalonians 4:17 (see Chapter 9 in this book for a popular-level treatment). However, the sun, moon, and stars symbols in Revelation 12 refer back to the vision of Joseph in Genesis 37:9 and are included to give us an interpretational clue as to whom the woman refers: Israel as a corporate body. There is absolutely nothing in the text that suggests that these symbols are to be linked to the literal sun, moon, and stars in some kind of alignment…or that the woman and other figures are astronomical patterns. In case I am being misunderstood, I reject and repudiate any and all identifications of this passage with astronomical phenomena, which is really astrology, or as I prefer to call it, “astrallegory.”

September 23 will come and go, just like every other half-baked attempt at setting a day for eschatological events in direct contradiction to the words of Jesus, Paul, and Peter. It is a grievous sin to set dates and I have, in print and on the air, numerous times, rejected this.

How can I be so sure that these new Revelation 12 sign-seekers and date-setters are so pathetically wrong? And how do I justify my strong denouncement of their folly?

Because, besides looking foolish, sign-seekers and date-setters can also do damage to people’s faith and to the cause of Christ. How so? When these dates come and go and the “fulfillments” don’t pan out, weak believers, unbelievers, skeptics, critics, and scoffers might conclude one of two things: 1) Christianity and the Bible are utterly untrustworthy, legitimately leading to the question, “What else does the Bible teach that isn’t really true?” Or, more likely, 2) The Bible is hopelessly ambiguous, because if careful interpreters can wrongly read so many different current events into it, then Scripture can apparently be interpreted to say anything people want it to say. In either case, nothing good comes from repeatedly failed date-setting and sign-seeking. Rather, those who engage in this dangerous sport make authentic, Bible-believing Christians look bad, as scoffers lump us all together and regard us as misguided, brainless zealots.

Jesus, Paul, Peter, and the entire early church believed that nobody can calculate or know the hour, day, year, or even season of Christ’s return. Jesus said, “But of that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but the Father alone” (Matt. 24:36). To clarify that not even the disciples could have known, Jesus added, “Therefore be on the alert, for you do not know which day your Lord is coming” (Matt. 24:42). And to underscore the fact that even those who would believe in subsequent generations could not know the time of Christ’s return, Jesus said, “Take heed, keep on the alert; for you do not know when the appointed time will come. . . . What I say to you I say to all, ‘Be on the alert’” (Mark 13:33, 37).

Later the apostle Paul reiterated this teaching that nobody knows the day or the hour but that all believers of every generation must remain alert and ready for judgment to come at any moment. He wrote, “Now as to the times and the epochs, brethren, you have no need of anything to be written to you. For you yourselves know full well that the day of the Lord will come just like a thief in the night” (1 Thess. 5:1–2). Believers, however, will not be overtaken by the suddenness of this coming (5:4), not because they will know the times, epochs, year, and day, but because they will be ready for Christ’s return regardless of when it occurs! Later the apostle Peter himself echoes this same thought: “But the day of the Lord will come like a thief” (2 Pet. 3:10, emphasizing the suddenness of the coming of Christ in judgment.

Finally, an early Christian writing called the Didache (A.D. 50–70), used for instruction of new Gentile believers in Christ, included a brief account of Christian expectations of the end times. The author of that text wrote, “Watch over your life: do not let your lamps go out, and do not be unprepared, but be ready, for you do not know the hour when our Lord is coming” (Didache 16.1). Thus, the pattern of teaching in the early orthodox church was the same as that of Jesus and the apostles: we do not know (and cannot know) the time of Christ’s return. It could happen in their lifetime as well as ours. Therefore, we must be ready for it every day and every moment of our lives.

Yet these facts of Christian faith don’t stop those high-risk gamblers playing the “Dating Game.” Instead, they suggest that these warnings are for unbelievers, or that God has chosen to progressively illuminate His church to discover the secret knowledge long hidden in Scripture, or they quote passages like Amos 3:7, concluding that God would never suddenly judge the world without adequate warning.

Bible-believing Christians must all make a conscious decision to resist two perennial errors with regard to end-times expectations. First, we must ban, shun, and reject those who play the “Dating Game.” Setting a date for the return of Christ or some other end-time event(s) is completely unacceptable. It was unacceptable in the first century. It is unacceptable in the twenty-first century. We must exercise a policy of “ZERO TOLERANCE” for this unwise and borderline blasphemous practice.

Second, we must also inoculate ourselves against the much more common disease of “This-is-that-itis,” which is the common practice of interpreting the Bible’s prophecies in light of current events and presumptuously concluding (or at least hypothesizing) that our generation must be the last generation…or this day must be the date of the rapture. This was unacceptable in the first century. It is unacceptable in the twenty-first. We simply cannot know the hour, day, week, month, year, decade, or generation. Christ could come in our lifetime. Or He could come in a thousand years.

The Revelation 12 prophecy proponents are guilty of both Sign-Seeking and Date-Setting.

Their astrallegory must be rejected because only God knows when Christ will return, and He’s not telling.

Some Thoughts on Intra-Trinitarian Relationships in the Earliest Church Fathers

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Back in 2004, I presented a very long (71-page) paper at the Evangelical Theological Society entitled, “Power in Unity, Diversity in Rank: Subordination and the Trinity in the Fathers of the Early Church.” This paper was the result of research I conducted related to my PhD studies in patristics. In light of recent discussions among evangelicals regarding the issue of subordination and intra-trinitarian relationships, I thought I would make this paper available. It is an exhaustive (some might say, exhausting) analysis of every instance in which the relationships between Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are even mentioned in the orthodox writings between Didache and Irenaeus. The full paper can be found here as a PDF. Because it was written in 2004, it is clearly not up-to-date in its secondary literature, but my hope is that interested readers will find the primary source data (all included in a lengthy appendix) to be helpful.

Below, I include the excerpt from the paper that summarizes my conclusions and implications based on the work of these early fathers. I would ask that readers first review the analysis of the entire paper before interacting with my conclusions.

Excerpt from Michael J. Svigel, “Power in Unity, Diversity in Rank: Subordination and the Trinity in the Fathers of the Early Church,” a Paper Presented at the 56th Annual Meeting of the Evangelical Theological Society, November 18, 2004, San Antonio, Texas.

Conclusions

Based on the preceding analyses, we can make the following conclusions regarding the relationships of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit in the writings of the earliest fathers.

No Clear Arian Ontological Subordination. There is no clear example of an Arian ontological subordinationism in which the Son is a created being or has an inferior divinity to the Father, though Tatian’s concept of the Logos may come close. When their language was clear, the early fathers’ concept of subordination was functional, not ontological. LaCugna rightly stated that “we should not regard this economic subordinationism as heretical or even as an inferior or incoherent Christian theology of God and Christ.”[1] Rather, just the opposite is true: where there was opportunity given by the context, Christ was called “God,” “eternal,” or the essential mediator of the Father’s will.

No Functional Egalitarianism. There is no discernible tradition whatsoever of what is today described as ontological and functional equality or a “communitarian” or “democratic” model of the Trinity. Nor is there clear evidence of a view which states that the persons of the Godhead could have agreed to take on different roles than what has unfolded in the economy of creation (e.g. that the Father could have become incarnate or the Son could have indwelled believers rather than the Holy Spirit).

Ontological Equality and Functional Subordination. There is an overwhelming tradition of what is today described as ontological equality and functional subordination within the Trinity that emphasizes the monarchia of the Father. While the Son and Spirit are not creatures, the Father is their head, meaning that all activities conform to his will.

Possible Drift toward Ontological Subordinationism. While the later second century fathers began to speculate more on the specific nature of the generation of the Son,[2] we begin to discern language implying an eternal functional subordination while still maintaining essential (ontological) equality. However, with Tatian the language becomes fuzzy, and the stage appears to be set for greater deviation away from ontological equality toward Arian ontological subordinationism.

 

Implications

If, for the sake of argument, we were to regard the fathers of the first and second centuries as our canon of orthodoxy and the proper understanding of Scripture, then our judgments on various views of subordination and the Trinity become rather clear.     

Eternal Functional Equality and Ontological Equality. Modern day advocates of what I call “eternal functional equality” suggest that “there can be no separation between the being and the acts of God, between the one divine nature of the three persons and their functions.”[3] Therefore, orthodox ontological equality is said to demand functional equality as well, and distinctions in rank between the Father, Son, and Spirit are rejected. Instead, the Father, Son, and Spirit are regarded as functioning in a co-equal fellowship, with one mind and will. Though each member of the Triune community performs distinct activities, these activities are not ordered in rank or hierarchy.[4] Instead of the Son and Spirit functioning in submission to the Father, the three persons are said to function in mutual submission to each other. In light of this study, the problem with such a view is that no extant Christian writings of the first and second centuries suggest anything remotely close to such a model, but rather consistently present the Father as the head and the Son and Spirit as functioning in submission to the Father.

Incarnational Functional Subordination and Ontological Equality. Advocates of a temporary or voluntary subordination of the Son to the Father limit the submission of the Son to the time of his earthly ministry or commencing with the incarnation. Thus, the Son’s role of submission to God is a result of his taking on full human nature and living in obedience to the law. However, in light of the early fathers, limiting the functional subordination of the Son to the incarnation would be too narrow. In the first and second century writers, the Son and Spirit consistently submit to the Father’s will, even prior to the Son’s incarnation and Spirit’s sending into the world. Also, such a view of incarnational subordination does not explain why the Holy Spirit is presented by the fathers as functioning in submission to the will of the Father without having become incarnate.

Eternal Functional Subordination and Ontological Equality. If we were to employ first and second century Christian teaching as a standard, the advocates of an eternal functional subordination of the Son to the Father would have little clear evidence to support their view. The descriptions of the relationships between Father, Son, and Spirit in the early fathers refer to activities of the Godhead in relation to the created order. Apart from actual activities in creation, the nature of the relationships is vague. This does not preclude the existence of an ordered relationship based on fatherhood, sonship, and spiration, but the actual evidence is minimal and unclear. In this sense, complaints against the language of “eternal functional subordination” seem to be valid, and evangelicals should probably cease using such terms.[5]

Economic Functional Subordination and Ontological Equality.[6] The view of the earliest post-apostolic fathers is best described as one in which Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are co-eternal and co-equal with regard to deity and power, but in extra-Trinitarian actions the Father is the head, the Son is the mediator, and the Spirit is the pervasive active presence of God. While we cannot logically project this economic functional subordination into an eternal state apart from creation, this taxis would be consistent with the interpersonal relationships implied by the names “Father,” “Son,” and “Spirit.”

Eternal Functional Subordination and Ontological Subordination. The fathers’ consistent subordination of the Son to the Father in their will and works has sometimes been mistaken for an ontological subordination relegating either the Son or the Spirit to the realm of finite creation rather than eternal deity. For example, in his polemic against Trinitarianism in favor of Unitarianism, Stannus, citing Polycarp’s prayer on the pyre as evidence of non-trinitarianism in the second century, writes, “The ante-Nicene fathers invariably spoke of Christ as subordinate to the Father.”[7] Although he is correct in this assertion, his conclusion that this necessarily implies an inequality of divinity is an unfounded exaggeration. His error is similar to that of modern assertions that subordination in function necessarily means inequality of eternal nature. Where the early fathers are not silent, they illustrate that one can hold simultaneously to both functional subordination and ontological equality of being. Therefore, attempts by groups such as Jehovah’s Witnesses who seek sympathetic theology in the early fathers are misguided.[8]

 

Two Final Questions

Does Economic Functional Subordination Prescribe a Particular Social Order? The ordering of ecclesiastical leadership suggested in 1 Clement and stated explicitly and repeatedly in the Letters of Ignatius was not tied to an eternal role in the Godhead, but to the sending of the Son in the economy of salvation. This ordering is independent of questions regarding the eternal relationships between Father, Son, and Spirit. In the context of contemporary egalitarian and complementarian debates—whether in the home, government, society, or church—the debate concerning eternal functional subordination is irrelevant as far as the early fathers are concerned. There appears to have been enough justification for ecclesiastical ordering in the simple fact that the Son was sent into the world. However, we must recognize that the fathers do not extend this divine ordering beyond that of ecclesiastical structures. Although 1 Clement addressed the issue of God’s establishment of human government on earth to which all men are to submit, he linked such authority to his divine decree, not to a Trinitarian model (1 Clem. 61:1). However, one could suggest that the ways in which God orders society in general should be consistent with his work. In short, functional subordination in the Trinity need not be eternal to serve as a basis for social structures, but this type of application of Trinitarian theology outside church order is not found in the early fathers.

Are the Early Fathers “Orthodox” or “Heretical”?[9] Based on an exhaustive analysis of the primary evidence summarized in this paper, the fathers’ teaching can be summed up in Athenagoras’s statement, “power in unity, diversity in rank.” For a moment, allow me a brief fit of rhetoric. Those who want to define historical orthodoxy as discerning no functional distinction in rank between Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are forced into one of three solutions with regard to the first and second century fathers. They must either a) anathematize the early fathers as heretics; b) twist their writings to conform to an egalitarian standard; or c) simply ignore them. It appears that most have chosen the final option. I reject this move. Instead, I believe we ought to embrace the early fathers as a solid, though developing, orthodox link in the chain of Trinitarian tradition handed down from the apostles in Scripture, subsequently taught by catechesis and liturgy, and guided in its growth and development by the teaching ministry of the Holy Spirit. If this is the case, orthodoxy must not only grudgingly accept the concept of ontological equality and functional subordination as merely an acceptable option, but perhaps it should cheerfully embrace it as most accurately reflecting the faith “once for all delivered to the saints” (Jude 3) and handed down to “faithful men” who were “able to teach others also” (2 Tim 2:2).

Visual Summary of Evidence

TrinSum.

[1] LaCugna, God for Us, 26.

[2] This may have been the impetus for Irenaeus to assert that the generation of the Son is unknowable (A.H. 2.28.6).

[3] Giles, The Trinity and Subordinationism, 93.

[4] Ibid., 92–96.

[5] In my current thinking on this matter, the second century fathers’ adamant insistence on the utter distinction of Creator and creature, with the latter a creation ex nihilo, makes the notion of eternal functional subordination a problematic description. Subordination or submission to the will of the Father implies some sort of activity or function. Without a creation in which and toward which such actions are aimed, can we really speak about “subordination?” Unless we argue for a subordination of essential nature, we cannot speak of subordination in a timeless, eternal state. My view, of course, assumes a notion of creation ex nihilo. However, if one advances a doctrine of God and time that includes God’s “own time” or some pre-creational activity, then the term “eternal functional subordination” could be a legitimate category. On historical and contemporary issues of God, time, and creation, see William Lane Craig, God, Time, and Eternity—The Coherence of Theism II: Eternity (Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic, 2001).

[6] My use of the term “economic” here refers to any divine activity in the economy of creation. That is, in all extra-Trinitarian works of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. It does not apply to whatever inconceivable and unknowable relationship the Father, Son, and Spirit had in their existence apart from creation.

[7] Stannus, Doctrine of the Trinity, 28.

[8] Cf. for example, Greg Stafford, Jehovah’s Witnesses Defended: An Answer to Scholars and Critics, 2d ed. (Huntington Beach, CA: Elihu, 2000), 215.

[9] This assumes, of course, that we can meaningfully use these terms in their normal sense with reference to the early fathers who precede the ecumenical councils of the fourth and fifth centuries. While historians shy away from them, evangelicals may use these terms because of their belief in a transcendent standard of doctrinal truth against which teachings of every age can be measured.

Avoid the Latest Outbreak of This-Is-That Syndrome!

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BloodMoonSome of the first books I read as a young believer had to do with the end times. Okay, that’s actually an understatement. I didn’t just read them. I consumed them. And they weren’t just about the end times. Those books made it sound like we were either in the tribulation itself or at the brink of that climactic world crisis that would usher in the end. Those books had red, yellow, or black covers. They usually featured atomic blasts, fire, smoke, dragons, or demons. All of them alleged that we could (and should) read the Bible alongside the newspaper because current events were fulfilling the prophecies of Revelation almost every day.

Some of the more nuanced treatments said things like, “So-and-so could be the Antichrist” or “This or that technology may be used in the Tribulation as the mark of the beast” or “These events in Europe [or the Middle East, or Russia, or China] might be setting the stage for the rise of the Antichrist’s one world government.” In short, these authors, T.V. preachers, pastors, and end-times enthusiasts sought after signs in the news or in the skies that would point to the imminent end of the world. In fact, I was once told not to waste my time at seminary because “There isn’t time.”

I began to grow weary (and distrustful) of this practice of sign-seeking when some of these teachers kept changing their identifications. First the ten-nation confederacy in Revelation 13 was the European Union . . . then it was a Mediterranean alliance that included the Middle East . . . then it was a Middle Eastern and Asian alliance. Or some suggested the Antichrist would be a New Age guru . . . others a European politician . . . others a Muslim dictator from the Middle East. And the mark of the Beast? Social Security numbers? Bar codes? GPS devices? Smart phones?

Besides looking foolish, sign-seekers can also do damage to people’s faith and to the cause of Christ. How so? When these possible “fulfillments” don’t pan out, weak believers, unbelievers, skeptics, critics, and scoffers might conclude one of two things: 1) Christianity and the Bible are utterly untrustworthy, legitimately leading to the question, “What else does the Bible teach that isn’t really true?” Or, more likely, 2) The Bible is hopelessly ambiguous, because if careful interpreters can wrongly read so many different current events into it, then Scripture can apparently be interpreted to say anything people want it to say. In either case, nothing good comes from repeatedly failed sight-seeking. Rather, those who engage in this dangerous sport make authentic, Bible-believing Christians look bad, as they lump us all together and regard us as misguided, brainless zealots.

Since those early days of my end times enthusiasm, I’ve watched countless sign-seekers, date-setters, and victims of this-is-that syndrome come and go. The latest misguided miscreants pointing at red moons in the sky aren’t the first . . . and won’t be the last. But balanced Bible-believing Christians need to be inoculated from this disease with a healthy injection of truth about the end times. We of all people need to correct, rebuke, and reject the end times hacks and quacks pointing at current events to boost their book sales while bamboozling believers.

 

[Adapted from Exploring Christian Theology, vol. 3, available here.]

Your Questions Answered: Is It Heresy to Reject a Literal Hell?

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Question MarkQUESTION:

You mention in RetroChristianity that rejecting belief in hell is heterodoxy, not heresy. But why? Why wouldn’t that be heresy? Jesus spoke of hell more than heaven, we are told. And the apostle’s creed says he descended into hell.

ANSWER:

It is definitely true that the view of a literal conscious place of eternal torment for the lost is the overwhelming view of most orthodox Christians, in most places, at most times. However, it has never been the universal position, nor has it ever been dogmatically articulated in an ecumenical creed. Passages that speak of fire and smoke and darkness and “forever and ever” have been read by Christians throughout history in different ways ranging from literal and metaphorical. However, even those who have tended to read the language metaphorically have still affirmed a literal conscious torment that is indescribable. Nevertheless, some have read the language as a metaphor for universal purification by fire or as a figure for absolute irreversible annihilation as if by fire.

So, is a non-literal view of the fires of hell heresy or heterodoxy?

Part of this confusion may be how narrowly I apply the word “heresy.” When I use the term “heresy,” I mean damnable doctrine, that is, “If you believe this, you cannot be saved.” When I use the word “heterodoxy,” I mean, “If you believe this, be careful! You’re holding to something very few Christians have held and you’re standing against the vast majority of thinkers throughout history, and this view has sometimes led to more dangerous doctrines.”

So, I call the views of universalism and annihilationism “heterodoxy” rather than “heresy” because: 1) there has never been a complete agreement on how to understand those hell passages even among those who hold to eternal conscious torment; 2) there has never been a universally adopted creed that reflects a clear teaching on this matter one way or another; and 3) those errors in personal eschatology don’t necessarily and directly distort the Trinitarian creation/redemption story or the person and work of Christ.

I think rejecting eternal conscious torment of the lost fits the category of heterodoxy the best. And not a heterodoxy of the harmless kind, like whether angels have actual wings. Rather, I think those who deny a view of hell as eternal conscious torment and instead hold to annihilationism or universalism are sailing in dangerous waters. Pushing those views too hard could cause them to capsize or shipwreck, distorting other important doctrines. But if a figure in history or even today held firmly to all the other essential tenets of orthodoxy but flirted with a figurative interpretation of hell, I would not put that person in the category of a heretic. I reserve that label for those who reject the fundamentals of the faith like Arius, Pelagius, or Joseph Smith.

One more note with regard to the creedal language. The Creed states that Jesus descended to “hades,” which in the early centuries was a reference simply to “the place of the dead.” Throughout history there has been no complete consensus on what was meant by the term; all acknowledged it was a term borrowed from Greek after-life concepts, so it meant, simply, “Jesus went to the place dead people go when they die.” Some took it as referring to His physical place of burial, so “hades” = “the grave.” Others took it to mean the place of the departed righteous, thus, “hades” = “Abraham’s bosom” or “Paradise.” Others took it to refer to the place of the wicked spirits, including demons, so Christ descended there and proclaimed victory over the spirits of wickedness. In any case, there was no clear consensus on the descensus ad infernos, as it is called, and, in fact, not all of the articulations of the Regula fidei (“Rule of Faith”) and the various baptismal confessions contained that line. So, it is not a good place to go to affirm a universally binding orthodox view of a literal fiery eternal hell. The mention of Christ’s descent to hades was not intended to affirm anything about the literal fires of hell.