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I woke up this morning thinking about hell. A number of weeks ago...months, actually...a young man came to speak to me. He said he was writing a book about Canadian religion, who believes what and why. (I noticed in the Toronto Star that someone else, much older, is writing just such a book so I'm afraid this young man is a day late and a loonie short. Oh, well.) He asked if I'd be willing to tell him about my faith and I agreed. Well...he really didn't want to know what I thought. Oh, he asked and everything, but then he argued every point. He wasn't interested in my experience; he was interested in convincing me that my experience was wrong. Finally, a bit annoyed at having been ambushed (I'm always up for a debate, but I do like to know that it's coming) I asked, "You've had a very bad experience with religion, haven't you?" Yes, he had. It took a while to get there, but he'd been rejected by his church for his sexuality. His experience of God was tainted by his experience of church. It seemed to me that he was writing his book to exorcise personal demons...if he could just reduce faith to some data it'd be small and pointless and he'd have it licked. The fight was by no means insignificant. It was a matter of self-definition and, not to sound melodramatic, salvation. Whether or not a priest ever knew he was gay or directly condemned him, he picked up the message - "You're going to hell." Aside from the obvious cruelty of picking one of among thousands of human traits and calling that one damnable, something else struck me about this young man's experience. He was told he was going to hell, and that's just where he is. Between the guilt and shame laid on him by the church and the bitterness and hostility that's eating him from within, he is in hell. Call it Yoda Theology, but I don't think God sends anyone to hell. I think we send one another and, most of all, ourselves to hell. We carry our own hell with us...which is why it's Yoda theology. Remember in The Empire Strikes Back, on Dagobah, when Luke goes into the cave? "What's in there?" he asks. "Only what you take with you," Yoda replies. Against Yoda's advice, Luke takes his weapons, symbols of his fear and aggression. And so, having taken fear and aggression with him, that's what he finds. The shadowy form of his fear, Darth Vader, confronts him. An important note - Luke ignites his lightsaber first, then the Vader shadow follows suit. Standing face to face with his fear he initiates hostility. Well...we've all seen the movie. Now this young man who visited me had every reason to be angry and defensive. I'm not accusing him of initiating hostility (he did with me, but I was just a skirmish along the way). The things he's carrying into the cave were handed to him, thrust into his hands. He was sort of forced into that posture and he'll probably have to spend a while fighting God...or at least the shadow demon that has been presented to him as God. But he also has the option, now or after a few years of fighting, of dropping the rejection. He can walk away from the judgment and bigotry. It won't be easy, and it won't be without pain, but he can walk away from hell. So I disagree with Sartre...hell is not other people. Hell is ourselves, our own anger and fear and prejudice and hurt. Other people can push us there, can provide some of the stuff of hell, and we should all be bloody careful about what sort of torments we're handing out. But it's ultimately up to us whether or not we accept someone else's judgment. It's up to us whether or not we're in hell. How does this relate to an afterlife? I rather like C.S. Lewis' depiction of heaven and hell in The Great Divorce. In it Lewis explores the notion that people are in hell, as an afterlife, because they choose to be. Even offered a final chance to choose heaven (which Lewis depicts as a cosmic bus ride to visit heaven's foothills) they haven't the courage or faith to leave the prison of their own anger, fear, hate, etc. God wants them in heaven, but won't force them. It has to be a choice, one we continue to make into and beyond death. Now, I'm not so sure that there's ever a final offer. God pursues us into hell itself (Christ's descent, the "Harrowing of Hell", a creedal concept derived from 1 Peter) and I can't conceive of the all-loving Father cutting us off after that. We are created for relationship with God, and I don't think God throws us away while there's still a chance. Still, aside from a perceived finality, Lewis' description presents an intriguing understanding of a great and terrible mystery. And that was before breakfast. Oy. |
