The New View of Hell/Chapter 13
XIII.
HOW TO ESCAPE HELL.
WE have seen that hell, according to the New Theology, is not a place to which a certain class of people are at last sent against their will, as disorderly people in this world are sent to the lock-up, or criminals to the penitentiary; but that it is a state or quality of life which each one freely chooses, and which he strengthens or confirms by habit. It is a low condition of humanity—a disorderly or inverted condition—one in which the higher part of our nature is in absolute subjection to the lower, the human to the bestial, the angelic to the infernal. It is not a state of unmitigated misery; for every kind of love, as we have seen, has its delights. The more unselfish is the love that we develop and strengthen—the more it is like God's own love, so much the sweeter and more heavenly is the delight felt in its exercise, and so much the purer and more exalted our happiness; but the more unlike we are to God in character, feeling and purpose—the more supremely selfish we grow to be, and the more indifferent to the wants and woes and welfare of others, the lower is the form of life or quality of love developed in the soul, and the nearer, therefore, does the delight experienced in its exercise, approach to the delights of some of the brute creation—to the delights of serpents, tigers, dogs and swine.
In the natural world nothing is positively evil per se. All things are good and useful in their proper places. The ordure from our barns and stables, the filth and refuse of our filthiest cities, the droppings of wild or domestic fowls, and even the dead and decomposing bodies of animals—offensive and hateful as all such things are when out of place, in our parlors or libraries—are excellent in the field or garden; and in the hands of the skillful florist or agriculturist, may be turned to profitable account.
So, too, all the implanted instincts and proclivities of our natural humanity, including even the love of self with all its numerous offspring, are not wrong or sinful per se. They are all of them gifts of God, and in their proper place are good and useful. But what is their proper place? Not that of rulers, but of servants. Dogs and horses would make poor masters but as servants subject to man's direction and control, they are very useful. In the order of man's creation, the body comes first. Next the bodily senses are developed; then the lower parts of the mind—those lying nearest the body—the selfish and sensual propensities; then the knowing and intellectual faculties; then the rational and religious. And the highest or God-like part of his nature—the spiritual and truly human—the angel (for this is "the measure of a man," Rev. xxi. 17) is unfolded last of all. But this takes place only when the man is " born from above," or created anew in the image of his Maker. In this case, none of the passions or propensities of the natural man are destroyed, but simply brought under subjection to the spiritual and more regal part of his nature—to the true and heaven-born man. In due subjection and subordination to the divine human love, everything belonging to the natural man is good and useful.
This is plainly taught in the spiritual sense of the very first chapter of the Bible; in which sense this chapter treats of a spiritual creation, that is, of the normal development of the human soul from its natural, dark, chaotic state, into one of heavenly order and life—into the image and likeness of God himself. Note the order in this creation. First, we have the earth without form, and void,—and darkness brooding over it. Then comes the grass, and the herb yielding seed, and the fruit-tree yielding fruit. Then the fishes and the fowls—the "living creatures which the waters brought forth abundantly after their kind, and every winged fowl after his kind." Then "the beast of the earth after his kind, and cattle after their kind, and everything that creepeth upon the earth after his kind." And last of all the man—a living soul—created in the image and likeness of his Maker.
"So God created man in his own image; in the image of God created He him; male and female created He them.
"And God blessed them; and God said unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth. . . .
"And God saw everything that He had made; and behold it was very good."
When truth in the understanding becomes firmly wedded to love in the will, or in other words, when the great law of unselfish love (which is the properly human life) comes to reign throughout the soul, having complete dominion over all the feelings, inclinations and thoughts of the natural mind, then the true man is created—the properly human understanding and will. "Male and female created He them, and called their name Adam," that is, man. And when this is the case—when all the instincts, feelings, thoughts and propensities of the natural man are brought under perfect subjection to the great law of love, then everything is seen to be "very good." The inclinations of the natural man are evil only when they are allowed to rule. In a state of proper subordination and subserviency to the celestial principle—the truly human—they all are very good.
But this exalted and heavenly state, when the soul is so filled and pervaded by the Divine spirit that it may truly be said to be created "in the image of God," cannot be suddenly attained. Many previous states must be passed through—states of inward labor, and conflict with the foes of "our own household." These states, however, are all indispensable to the final evolution or creation of the man; and are what is meant in the spiritual sense by the six days of creation spoken of in Genesis. Accordingly Swedenborg says:
"During regeneration the cupidities and falsities [of the natural man] cannot be instantly removed; for that would be to destroy the whole man, seeing that the life of these is the only life he has yet acquired. Therefore evil spirits are permitted to continue with him for some time, that they may excite his cupidities. . . . And unless the Lord defended man every moment, yea, even the smallest part of a moment, he would instantly perish in consequence of the indescribably intense and mortal hatred which prevails in the world of spirits against the things relating to love and faith toward the Lord.
"The times and states of man's regeneration in general and in particular, are divided into six, and are called the days of his creation. For by degrees he is elevated out of a state in which he possesses none of the qualities which properly constitute a man, until by little and little he attains to the sixth day, in which he becomes an image of God.
"During this period the Lord fights continually for him against evils and falsities, and by means of [these internal and spiritual] conflicts confirms him in the true and the good. The time of the warfare is the time of the Lord's operation; therefore a regenerate person is called by the prophets, the work of God's fingers. And he does not rest until love becomes his ruling principle; then the conflict ceases. When the work has so far progressed that faith is united to love, it is then called very good; for the Lord then treats him as a likeness of himself. At the end of the sixth day the evil spirits depart, and the good ones draw near."—Arcana Cœlestia, 59-63.
Then comes the sabbath of the soul;—that state of inward peace and rest which resembles the sweet and serene peace of heaven—a state in which the natural man yields a perfect and cheerful submission to the spiritual, or what is the same, to the will of the Heavenly Father. Of this state. Swedenborg speaks thus:
"What the tranquillity of peace of the external man is, on the cessation of conflict, or when he is no longer disturbed by evil desires and false persuasions, can be known only to one who is acquainted with the state of peace. So delightful is this state as to exceed every conception of delight. Not only is it a cessation of conflict, but life proceeding from an interior peace, and affecting the external man in a manner that cannot be described."—Ibid. 92.
What it is, according to the New Theology, to escape hell, must by this time be obvious. It is to escape, or rise out of, that low state in which the selfish propensities of the natural man—pride, avarice, ambition, love of ease or pleasure, lust of power or glory—have complete dominion in the heart, and to come into that exalted and truly human state in which love to the Lord and neighbor have supreme control. And this is something which cannot be suddenly accomplished. It is a life-long work.
And how shall we do it? How is the spiritual to gain the ascendency over the natural man? How, from loving self and the world supremely, shall we be brought into a state to love the Lord above all else, and our neighbor as ourselves? For to undergo this change, is to be lifted out of a hellish into a heavenly state. In other words, it is to escape hell, and enter upon the state denoted by heaven. It is to experience such an inward renewal or change of character, that when we enter the other world we shall loathe and shun the society of devils, and be drawn by the force of spiritual attraction to that of the angels.
How to do this, is the question of questions. Yet the Lord has pointed out the way, and made it very plain to all who are willing to walk in it. He says: "If thou wilt enter into life, keep the commandments." But this, on account of our hereditary selfishness, requires the practice of much self-denial, and the endurance of many inward conflicts with the foes of our own household. The cross is the symbol of these conflicts; and engaging in them, therefore, is what is meant in the spiritual sense by "taking up the cross." Hence the Lord says:
"If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me. For whosoever will save his life, shall lose it; and whosoever will lose his life for my sake, shall find it."
Our true life is the heavenly life—the life of pure unselfish love—the Lord's own life in us, yet perceived as ours. We find or receive this life, only as we overcome or lose our hereditary selfish life for the Lord's sake; and this we can do only by denying to our natural and inordinate love of self the gratification which it craves, and engaging in many a fierce conflict with the evil inclinations which spring from that love. This is the way the Lord himself overcame the evil in his assumed humanity, and made that humanity Divine. And we, if we would follow Him, or come into full sympathy and spiritual union with Him (and without this there is no heaven for us), must do the same. That is, we must deny self, and take up our cross.
"Keep the commandments," was the blessed Saviour's answer to the young man who "came and said unto Him, Good Master, what good thing shall I do that I may have eternal life?" And to every inquirer in every age. He returns the self-same answer. And He goes further and specifies the commandments that are to be kept: "Thou shalt do no murder: Thou shalt not commit adultery: Thou shalt not steal: Thou shalt not bear false witness: Honor thy father and thy mother: And thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself."
Now the commandments may be kept—in the letter, at least—by one in whom there is no acknowledgment of the Lord, and no sense of dependence on Him. A man may refrain from falsehood, theft, adultery, murder, etc., from purely selfish and worldly considerations;—from fear of the law, or of losing his property or reputation, or from hope of winning the good esteem of others. He may keep all the commandments of the Decalogue, in the outward form, with a heart brim full of pride and self-conceit. He may do it in the spirit of the self-righteous Pharisee, who thanked God that he was so much better than other men. Those who keep the commandments in this spirit, are deficient in one essential qualification for the kingdom of heaven. They lack humility. They lack a sense of utter dependence on the Lord for whatever good they do, or whatever power they have to shun evil. They abound in self-righteousness. All the good they do, they regard as their own, and claim merit on account of it. Some of this class have "great possessions"—large investments in meritorious deeds.
This was the spirit in which that young man had kept the commandments. "All these things," he says, "have I kept from my youth up: What lack I yet?" And what was the Lord's answer? "If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell that thou hast and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven and come follow me. But when the young man heard that saying, he went away sorrowful; for he had great possessions."
We may keep the commandments, then, or shun the deeds which they forbid, yet in such a proud spirit or from such selfish motives, that we shall not be shunning hell at the same time. We may shun fraud, falsehood, theft, adultery, etc., merely from fear of the law, or of some personal or worldly loss. In that case we shun the evil from prudential considerations, not because it is wrong or sinful in itself; and this is not really shunning the evil at all.
If, therefore, we would shun hell, we must keep the commandments from a religious ground. We must regard the evils which they forbid, as sins against God, and shun them because they are sins. If our self-love prompts us to deceive or defraud our neighbor, or to take any undue advantage of his weakness or ignorance, or to injure him in any way, we must regard and shun the doing of such wrong as a sin. If we are in the habit of using profane language—of taking the Lord's name in vain—we must regard and shun this habit, not merely because it is ungentlemanly or disreputable, but because it is sinful. If we are inclined to deprive another, without his knowledge or consent, of anything that justly belongs to him—be it honor, property, reputation, social position, political or religious influence—we must regard and shun such robbery as a sin. If we are inclined to speak evil of others, to slander them—which is a kind of moral murder, for it is stabbing one in the dark—we must inwardly acknowledge the sinfulness of this before God, and shun it because it is a sin. If we are inclined to invade the freedom and trample on the rights of others, to domineer over them—over our families, our children, our brethren, our domestics, our employés—to compel them to do our will and gratify our wishes, to their own injury, loss, or discomfort, we must regard such disposition as sinful, and shun its indulgence as a sin.
And so with every inclination which originates in the love of self, and whose indulgence is condemned by the Lord's commandments, being utterly contrary to their whole spirit and teaching. These inclinations are all of them but streams which flow from hell; and their existence and craving are indications of the presence of hell within us. And it is only when we regard and shun their indulgence as a sin against God, that we are really shunning hell.
According to the New View, then, as herein unfolded, the way to escape hell becomes very plain. We must first have a clear perception and a firm conviction of what hell really is. We must recognize it as a state, and must understand the nature of that state. That is, we must know what kind of life or love belongs to it.
And the next thing necessary is, a sincere desire to be delivered from this state. And since we have no power to deliver ourselves—for no man can of himself change his ruling love—we must rely on One who alone is able to deliver; we must look to Him and pray to Him who hath "all power in heaven and on earth." No one ever was or ever can be delivered from a state of bondage to evil or the love of self, without first desiring to be delivered. And a sincere desire for deliverance, implies a perception and acknowledgment of the low state in which we are, and from which we seek to be delivered.
But the desire alone, however intense, is not enough. Prayer for deliverance, however earnest, is not enough. Confession of our clearly discerned selfishness and sin, however penitent, is not enough. Necessary as all these are, they are of no avail without a life of practical obedience to the Divine precepts. "Not every one that saith unto me. Lord, Lord," says the great Teacher, "shall enter into the kingdom of heaven; but he that doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven." We enter into the kingdom of heaven, just in the degree that we enter into that state of love to the Lord and the neighbor, which is the essential thing in that kingdom. And we enter that state by keeping the commandments, that is, by doing the heavenly Father's will; and a part of this consists in shunning, as sins against Him, the things which are contrary to his will.
To come out of darkness, is to come into light. To escape sickness, is to enjoy health. To get rid of weakness, is the same as coming into the possession of strength. And to escape hell, is to come into the opposite kingdom—heaven.
"If thou wilt enter into life, keep the commandments." This is the only way—the way pointed out by God's own finger—to escape hell and reach heaven. "The commandments" are the laws of the heavenly life. For all life has its laws; and it is only by conformity to these, that the blessings of any kind of life can be enjoyed.
Take, for example, our corporeal life. This has its laws; and these laws must be obeyed if we expect to enjoy physical health. Our bodies require food, and drink, and exercise, and sleep, and pure air, and protection from rain and frost. These requirements are the body's laws—unchangeable, God-appointed laws. And in the degree that they are transgressed, the body suffers. And this suffering is the penalty with which the Framer of our bodies visits such transgression. The transgression and the suffering, the violation and the penalty, are inseparably connected, like cause and effect.
And the soul, too, has its laws, as well as the body. And these can no more be violated with impunity, than can the laws which preside over our physical organism. In the violation of spiritual as in that of physical laws, a penalty follows with undeviating certainty;—not a penalty arbitrarily inflicted, or in the way that human tribunals punish offenders against civil enactments, but a penalty linked with transgression as effects are linked with causes.
But that higher life of the soul which those come into who escape hell—the life which we call heavenly—the life which allies us to God and the angels—that which the Scripture calls "eternal life," whose very breath is that unselfish love enjoined by the two great commandments—that life has to be begotten, formed, developed, born in us, generally after the corporeal life has reached maturity. This is the new birth—the birth into a higher, even the heavenly state—to which our Lord has reference when He says: "Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God."
How does this new birth of the soul take place? or how is this higher life developed and matured? In the same way that art-life, mechanical ingenuity, industrial skill, oratorical or mathematical power, is developed and perfected. Each follows as the normal result of self-compelled obedience to certain principles or laws.
Ask those who have attained a proud distinction as poets, artists, mechanics, scholars, statesmen, how they won their lofty eminence. And they will tell you that, under God, they are indebted mainly to their own persistent efforts;—to their ceaseless study, their tireless industry, their resolute struggles, their unflinching perseverance, their unremitting toil. They labored while others lounged. They studied while others slept. They were busy while others were idle. They were climbing up the mountain while others were reposing in bowers of ease.
No: Eminence in any art or profession was never achieved in any other way than through the individual's own voluntary and persevering efforts;—through the patient learning and faithful application of the rules of that art or profession.
And so we may say, men are born into the kingdom of heaven—that is, born saints or angels, in the same way that they are born artists, mechanics, scholars, statesmen. For they inherit naturally the capacity or aptitude for each of these; and some have by inheritance a larger capacity or aptitude than others. But they become neither the one nor the other without personal effort and much self-imposed labor;—without first learning certain principles or laws, and then reducing these laws to practice.
Take, for illustration, the accomplished musician. How has he become such? He inherited the talent or aptitude for music, just as we all have inherited the capability of becoming angels. He has the musical talent while yet a child—but undeveloped. And so we may say the musician is there in potency. But as yet he is in embryo. The individual is all unconscious of his latent powers:—as unconscious of the sweet entrancing delights which the music now wrapped up and hidden within him will one day produce, as an infant before birth is unconscious of its yet latent capabilities, or of the joys of its post-natal state. Properly speaking, the musician is not yet born. He has only an embryonic or latent existence in that individual, like that of the angel in the unregenerate man.
Observe, now, the manner of his birth,—for this will illustrate the manner in which every one who becomes regenerate, is born from above and becomes a true child of God. It will show us how we are to be brought out of the state in which we love ourselves supremely, into the opposite state of love to the Lord and the neighbor; or how "the new man" created in the image of the Lord Jesus Christ, comes forth from "the old man" that is "corrupt according to the deceitful lusts." In a word, it will show us how hell is to be escaped and heaven gained.
First, that individual places himself, or is placed, under the instruction of a Master. He becomes a pupil—a disciple or learner. He takes lessons of a music-teacher. He acquaints himself with the rules of the art—certain musical laws—and then reduces these rules to practice. He does not learn all the rules at once, but only a few, and the very simplest at first. When he has practiced these for a time, then he learns other and more difficult rules; and straightway proceeds to reduce these also to practice.
Thus he goes on, learning and practicing the rules of the art. But he finds little pleasure in these first lessons. He compels himself, however, to go through with them. It is all labor, task-work, drudgery, in the outset, which he performs reluctantly and without one thrill of delight, yet with the hope of some day becoming a musician. How stiff and clumsy his fingers are at first! How slowly and awkwardly they hobble over the keys, like a child just beginning to walk! How much more readily they go wrong than right! And he finds it vastly more difficult to practice the rules, than to commit them to memory. But he struggles on, sometimes hopeful, sometimes discouraged.
At last, by dint of patience and perseverance and much hard parctice, the difficulties are all overcome. The musical laws are incarnated in him. They flow out from the tips of his fingers the moment he seats himself at the instrument. He is now able to render with facility and effect the most difficult compositious of Beethoven or Mozart. And he finds, too, that by practicing, and thereby learning to give faithful expression to, the laws that govern in the realm of music, he becomes more and more enamored with the art. Strange and unlooked for raptures transport him. He is introduced, as it were, into a new world. Sweet melodies are rippling all around him. His soul is flooded with the charms of music. He experiences a delight in executing, or in listening to the execution of, some grand composition, of which, at the beginning of his musical education he could form no conception.
It is in this way that the musician is born; and in no other. He comes forth, not suddenly nor in any miraculous manner; but slowly, gradually, after years of hard study, close application and unremitting toil. The student learns certain musical rules or laws, and then compels himself to reduce those rules to practice. And so at last the musician is produced, developed, formed, or born.
And the painter, sculptor, architect, and mechanic are born in the same way. Each of these comes forth, generally not until the physical man has attained maturity. The individual first makes himself acquainted with the rules of the art, and then learns, through patient and protracted effort, to reduce these rules to practice.
And in a way precisely similar is "the new man" or angel born. In other words, we are introduced or born in a similar manner, into a state of supreme love to the Lord and the neighbor;—are lifted out of that low natural state, which is hell, into that high spiritual state, which is heaven. And this is what is meant by being "born again," "born of the Spirit," "born from above," and "born of God," whereof the Bible speaks.
The only possible way, therefore, of escaping the hellish and attaining unto the heavenly state, is, by first learning the laws of the higher or heavenly life, and then (in humble acknowledgment of our utter and constant dependence on the Lord) reducing them to practice. These laws are all contained in the Sacred Scripture, and are full of the Saviour's own life which is love. But they must be reduced to practice—they must be religiously obeyed—they must be made the laws of our life, before we may hope to experience the love and delight that are wrapped up within them.
We cannot, of course, learn and practice all these laws at once. That is not expected or required of us. But we are to do it by little and little, just as Raphael learned to paint and Mozart to play. And the task of learning the laws of our higher life, or of receiving truths into the understanding merely, is comparatively easy. Obeying them—living them—practicing them, in the parlor, in the kitchen, in the office, in the shop, in the counting-house, in the market-place, in the school-room, on the farm, at the fire-side, and in legislative halls—everywhere and always conforming our dispositions and conduct to their requirements, and so weaving these laws into the very fabric of our spiritual being, and making them, as it were, a part of ourselves—this is the laborious and difficult part of the work. And so it is with every art, trade or profession. Learning the rules is comparatively easy; reducing them to practice, is a task of far greater difficulty.
Hence we may see why doing the truth is so often urged and so strongly emphasized in the Sacred Scripture. "Blessed are they that do his commandments, that they may have right to the tree of life. " "Why call ye me Lord, Lord, and do not the things which I say?" "My mother and my brethren are those who hear the Word of God and do it." "Whosoever heareth these sayings of mine and doeth them, I will liken unto a wise man who built his house upon a rock." But "whosoever heareth and doeth them not, shall be likened unto a foolish man who built his house upon the sand." Whosoever doeth the will of the Heavenly Father," shall enter into the Kingdom.
It is impossible, therefore, to escape hell and win heaven through faith alone; that is, by simply learning, understanding, and believing the truth. Only those who religiously do as the laws of the heavenly life require, can hope ever to attain unto that life, or to have an inward experience of its joys.
And the first steps in the way of obedience, are, like all first steps, the most difficult. They have to be taken from a sense of duty—taken laboriously, with an effort, through self-compulsion, and without one throb of heavenly delight. They have to be taken when our natural inclinations urge us in the opposite direction. But as we go on practicing the laws of the higher life, every successive step becomes easier and more delightful. And as obedience becomes more and more the habit of the soul, hell and its delights recede, and the life and joy of heaven flow in with continually increasing fullness.
No: not by faith alone, or by a mere knowledge and acknowledgment of the truth, can a man ever escape hell or reach heaven; but by yielding a voluntary, though at first a self-compelled, obedience to the laws of heavenly life. Through obedience to these laws—at the same time acknowledging the Lord as their source, and the source of all our disposition and power to obey them—the interiors of the soul are opened toward heaven, and the influx of hell is lessened, and the Lord's life flows in with ever-increasing power and fullness; precisely as, through obedience to the laws of our physical life, physical debility and disorder recede, and bodily health, strength and elasticity flow in.
We cannot love the Lord supremely and our neighbor as ourselves, by simply desiring or willing to do so;—no, nor by the power of faith alone however strong, or prayer however sincere and fervent. But this love is sure to flow into our hearts in the degree that we humbly acknowledge its source, and compel ourselves to obey its laws. Shun falsehood, fraud, deceit, adultery—all known evils—as sins against God, and by degrees you will come to hate and loathe these vices. Devote yourself religiously to some useful calling, and you will gradually grow into the love of that use. Practice the laws of charity, and the life of charity with its delights will be imparted unto you more and more. Obey the law of kindness, and there will be a constantly increasing influx of the spirit of kindness into your heart. Do justly, because such is the will of God, and you will grow more and more in love with justice. In all your dealings and intercourse with your fellow men, be careful to obey the laws of neighborly love, and to regard and shun their infraction as a sin, and that love with its unspeakable delights will flood your soul more and more.
But pursue the opposite course—disregard the laws of the soul's higher life—violate the precepts of heavenly charity—trample on the rules of love and justice in your intercourse with your fellows, and your soul will become emptied of the Lord's life, and more and more insensible to its ineffable sweetness; your love of self will grow continually stronger, and your heart more and more like the nether mill-stone; your sympathies will become more contracted and deadened; your sense of justice will grow more and more benumbed; your moral perceptions more and more beclouded; your appreciation of, and your aspirations after, the gifts and graces of heaven, more and more feeble; and the angel life in you become more and more marred and crushed, and the demon life more vigorous and flourishing.
And thus will your soul, created with the capacity of endless progress in wisdom, holiness, and love, and with boundless capabilities of enjoyment, be lost and ruined. Yes—lost and ruined; because, through your voluntary neglect or infraction of the revealed and everlasting laws of love—the laws of your soul's higher life, that life is dwarfed and spoiled, or fails to become developed within you. Having chosen darkness rather than light, you cannot help missing the glorious boon which you were made capable of attaining—Heaven and its unutterable delights. Verily, saith the Lord:
"What shall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?"
The nature of heaven and of hell is revealed. The way of escape from one and of entrance into the other, is made plain. The Lord ever watches, and waits, and strives to draw all unto Himself. But He uses no compulsion. He cannot force one soul to heaven. He leaves us all in perfect freedom; and says to every one:
"I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing. Therefore choose life, that both thou and thy seed may live:
"That thou mayest love the Lord thy God, that thou mayest obey his voice, and that thou mayest cleave unto Him; for He is thy life, and the length of thy days."
Each one is free to choose for himself. He must and does choose for himself.
"And if it seem evil unto you to serve the Lord, choose you this day whom ye will serve."
THE END.