Quodlibet 13 - Salvation and Hell

Question

If the saved know that some of their loved ones are damned how is it that they can have perfect happiness? How is it that they could not lament the loss of souls? How, indeed, could God not lament their loss?


Answer

God is the Answer, and in Heaven we will know God as He is (see John 17:3, I John 3:2, St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae I 12, 1) – but since, even then, we will not be able to fathom Him completely (Summa Theologiae I 12,7), I wonder to what extent we will, even then, understand how absolutely everything fits together under God’s providence.

“God wills all people to be saved (I Timothy 2:4).” Now, If God wills something, in the most absolute and unqualified sense, then what He wills, comes to pass (Summa Theologiae I 19, 6; 19,8). If God wills Fred to be saved then Fred will infallibly be saved. Not because God will over-ride Fred’s will, but because God will create in Fred a good will, such that Fred loves God freely; He will draw Fred to Him in such a way that Fred journeys into Him voluntarily.

According to many Gospel passages, it is at least possible that some human beings are not saved; it seems certain that the fallen angels are not saved (See Matthew 25:41 and Revelation 20:10). Therefore it seems that God does not, in the absolute and unqualified sense, will all His rational creatures to be saved. We must take “God wills all people to be saved” in a less absolute sense. In the present case, we can say that God provides superabundantly for the salvation of all, through Jesus’ Passion, Death and Resurrection, and through planting in all people at least an implicit thirst for Him, one they can honour or resist. The basic shape of God’s plan is a plan for salvation; He has no plan of damnation – that is, it never happens that He creates, say, Joe with the intention of sending Joe to hell. But it can happen that God permits Joe to reject Him, and to die refusing to journey into God. Then, Joe gets eternity without God.

If we say, “Of course, God gets everyone to heaven” we run the risk of effectively obliging God to do this, and salvation ceases to be a gift; and we run the risk of making our decisions and actions eternally irrelevant. We cannot rule out the possibility of hell but we are obliged to hope for heaven (Summa Theologiae II.II 20,1; 20,3; 22,1) building our lives on the energising conviction that God who has begun a good work in us will securely bring it to completion.

By charity, we are obliged to thirst, pray and work for the eternal salvation of all people. When we get to heaven we will delight in a special way in the glory of the greatest Saints, but also in a special way in the glory of those who have shared our journey (Summa Theologiae II.II 26.13). We are obliged to pray, “Thy will be done,” but we are not in fact obliged to want the damnation of any whom God permits to go to hell! While they live, we are obliged to be concerned for the salvation of all, even if it turns out that some we try to save, will not be saved.


At the Last Judgement, the attitude of each to God is revealed on the public stage, and the mysteries of God’s grace and providence are revealed for praise and thanksgiving. Presumably this means that we see, to some extent at least, why God has permitted the evils He has, and how He has brought good out of them. Will we give praise and thanksgiving for the damnation of those (if any) who are lost? I suspect not. To some extent, we have to praise God for His judgements (Revelation 16:5-7, 18:20, 19:1-3). But we don’t have to picture God positively punishing the damned, nor do we have to picture the saved watching the torment of the damned. Julian of Norwich says there is no mention of satan or of the lost before God and His elect (Revelations of Divine Love, long text, chapter 33) – the vision of God, and the common rejoicing of those who have journeyed together into Him, is more-than-sufficient delight. Further, if the lost have rejected life with God, they have opted for next-to-nothingness and for insignificance (for it is only in God we find our meaning). The pictures of lakes of sulphur and the like are not so much pictures of a positive retribution as of the stupidity of choosing life without God.

Although the image of God’s grief is in Scripture (Isaiah 63:10, Ephesians 4:30) we know that He is beyond emotion so that we can’t say He is literally “hurt” by anyone’s loss. But how His delight in being and goodness is compatible with permitting anyone’s loss is a mystery. We will give eternal thanks for His justice (the wisdom and beauty of His ways) and for His mercy (His steadfast, saving love, which “goes before and beyond” justice [Summa Theologiae I 21,4]). We will rejoice in the glory He wills to give us, and the way He has brought us to it, without envy of those whose glory is greater, and without any sadness due to its limitations (Augustine, City of God, Book XXII, ch. 30; Summa Theologiae II.II 26,13; Dante, Paradiso, Canto 3). I will not be sad because I never had any brothers or sisters with whom to share the journey to heaven. If I notice the absence of some cousin with whom I have shared the journey, and for whose salvation I have prayed, it is hard to see how that could increase my joy – but presumably I will see, in God, how it should not spoil my joy.


I end by pointing out with Julian of Norwich (Revelations of Divine Love, long text, chapters 11 and 32) that we expect the Holy Trinity to do something on the Last Day that will ensure that all manner of thing shall be well, and will show how, since all that is done, is done by God, all is well done. Which does not mean God does evil, since, as Julian explains, following Augustine and Aquinas, evil has no being in itself, but is the absence of a good that should be there.

Richard Conrad, O.P.

Quodlibet 12 - How much do Dominicans study?

People who know only a few things about the Dominicans are likely to know that the Order places greater importance on study than almost anything else, besides the vocation to preach. In the English Province, most students will study for a minimum of five years before ordination to the priesthood, and many will study for higher degrees after ordination, either immediately or following a few years of pastoral and preaching experience. However, for the Dominican, being engaged in theological study at some level is a life-long occupation, and does not merely end with formal studies during preparation for the priesthood. It is important that all Dominicans have a good knowledge of theology, because it is needed to preach the Gospel, to shape and influence our entire ministry. We might say that a certain intellectual curiosity is one of the signs of a Dominican vocation.

Despite our reputation for a love of learning, it is important to stress that not all Dominicans are academic high flyers: the call is, after all, to be preachers. Some may study and teach full time, others may spend much less time on the intellectual life. Our ongoing studies need not necessarily be high level academic research. But we need nevertheless to cultivate and use our intellectual gifts in whatever way we can to serve the mission in which we are engaged. This means that we also study a wide range of things, and try always to broaden our horizons. Being a good preacher means being able to speak to a wide range of people, people from different backgrounds, with their hopes and fears. Our study should have as its aim to improve our knowledge of the mysteries of salvation, but also, say, an awareness of the realities faced by the people to whom we preach. The skill is to unite the two aspects in such a way that the Gospel is being communicated to people in a way which they understand, and is true to their circumstances and experiences. So whether a brother is engaged in full time research and writing in Cambridge, teaches moral theology in the Studium here at Oxford, or is a hospital chaplain in Leicester, study of theology and its application to the work being carried out is essential, because it nourishes and sustains the individual, and gives shape, content and depth to his preaching and ministry.

The picture shows St Albert the Great, Doctor of the Church, patron saint of scientists, and teacher of St Thomas Aquinas. His feast is celebrated on 15th November. For an account of his life and work click here.

Remembering ... Fr Gordian Marshall OP (1938-2007)

Fr Gordian Marshall was born John Francis Marshall on the 19th of November 1938 in Edinburgh. He was educated at Holy Cross High School, where he was a classmate of Cardinal Keith Patrick O' Brien. After years devoted service as an altar boy to Fr Anthony Ross OP, he asked to enter the Dominican novitiate, and was accepted in 1956. Following completion of his studies and ordination to the priesthood, Gordian was sent to teach at Llanarth, a preparatory school in Wales run by the Dominicans, where he remained until his appointment as novice master for the cooperator brothers, which required him to move in 1967. In this role he became noted for the courage with which he stood up for the brothers' interests, and the gentleness with which he related to his novices.

After the merging of the cooperator and clerical novitiates, Gordian was sent to the newly developed Spode Conference Centre, where, in collaboration with others, he developed a mission to schools. This interest in education remained throughout the rest of his life, expressed during his time in Leicester as University Chaplain, and in his work in Glasgow, training future Catholic teachers at St. Andrews College. From his move to Glasgow onwards, Gordian developed a significant interest in inter-religious dialogue, and became known as an authority in the field. As superior of the Glasgow house, Gordian supervised the move to take over the running of St. Columba's parish, Maryhill, Glasgow. Gordian was seen very much as an elder statesman of the Province, a deeply practical man whose level head and gentle wisdom were greatly valued. He attended the General Chapter of the Order in Bogota in 2007, where the altitude made him ill. Yet he carried out his duties to the best of his ability, obedient as he had always been in his Dominican life.

I have fond personal memories of Gordian. When I was an enquirer, Gordian kindly allowed me to stay at the house, then located in Queen's Drive on the South side of Glasgow. This helped me greatly in my time writing my doctorate. I was always made to feel especially welcome. I remember his affectionate teasing of a brother of the Glasgow house. After any teasing comment, a quick wink or smile followed quickly behind. I also remember the time when the house was plagued by a troublesome rodent visitor. I was sat at the breakfast table eating my cornflakes one morning, and Gordian appeared with a smile on his face, wearing a pair of yellow rubber gloves. He reached behind the bin, and picked up a large rat trap with its victim caught fast, and smiling, said 'gosh, she's a big one!' That morning I was especially grateful to have been blessed with a strong stomach.

Gordian died suddenly on the 14th of December 2007. He was 69 years of age, and had been professed for over fifty years. RIP.

What the Rosary Means to Me ... 14

For me the rosary is an allegory of hearing and responding to the message of Our Lord and living the Christian life, as exemplified by Our Lady. With the Joyful Mysteries, we accept and welcome Christ into our hearts. With the Mysteries of Light we hear and acknowledge his message. With the Sorrowful Mysteries we join Christ and take up our cross. And through His glory, we, like Mary, are raised to be with him.

The Dominican Martyrs of Japan

During his life our Holy Father St. Dominic dreamed of going to the pagan mission fields of the east to proclaim the Gospel and suffer martyrdom. He never fulfilled this dream but his spiritual children have never forgotten it. This is seen today in our celebration of the martyrdom of Alphonsus Navarrete, a friar and priest, and Alexius Sanbashi, a lay Dominican and catechist.

St. Alphonsus was born into a devout Spanish family in 1571. He entered the Order as a very young man and in 1585 he volunteered to be a missionary in the Far East. He arrived in Manila in 1595 (via Mexico). However he was plagued by ill-health and returned to Spain in 1600. He spent the next few years recruiting friars for the mission in Asia and after assembling a sizable group of friars from across Europe he returned to the Philippines and was assigned to the House of the Holy Rosary in Kyoto in 1611.

Alphonsus was reassigned to St Dominic’s House in Nagasaki in 1612 just as the first major wave of persecutions against Christians was beginning. By the end of the year he and all missionaries were exiled from the region. Undeterred Alphonsus led his band of friars to Oita on the other side of the island of Kyushu. Over the next five years Alphonsus helped to build a thriving and fervent Christian community. The strength of the Christians in Oita however only highlighted the suffering of the church in Nagasaki. Alphonsus and the Augustinian, Hernando de Ayala, decided they would return to Nagasaki. Within four days of their return Alphonsus was captured by the authorities. On the first of June 1617 he was beheaded for publically preaching the faith, the first Dominican martyr of Japan.

Little is known about Alexius Sanbashi; except that he was a native of Nagasaki and that he was a lay Dominican catechist with Blessed Joseph of St. Hyacinth. It has been suggested that he had been a secret Christian until St. Alphonsus returned to Nagasaki. Inspired by Alphonsus’ preaching he became a lay Dominican and began publically instructing people in the faith. He was captured in 1621 during the second major wave of persecution and burned alive the following year.

Over one hundred members of the Dominican family and their benefactors have been recognized as martyrs by the Church. Their blood helped establish a small yet significant Christian community in Japan, especially in and around Nagasaki, until the Second World War.

Let us today pray, through the intercession of Our Lady of Akita and these glorious martyrs, for the conversion of Japan. Let us also follow their example and proclaim our faith in a world which is hostile to it.

What the Rosary means to me ... 13

In a very beautiful poem Gerard Manley Hopkins SJ says that Mary had this one work to do: let all God's glory through. The mysteries of the rosary are moments in the lives of Jesus and Mary when the divine glory shines powerfully through. God is the artist or composer who created these mysteries. He composes or paints them in different hues and tones, with different shades and contrasts. In some of them the note of joy predominates, in others the note of sorrow. In others it is the clear light of revelation that helps us see who Jesus is and what His mission is about. In the last five mysteries we are held by the golden light of glory, overwhelmed by the mighty trumpets that herald the new creation.

It is possible to 'press' each mystery against our lives, or rather to press our lives against the shape of each mystery, to see how what it contains is being fulfilled in our journey of faith. What is God asking of me? Who needs me to turn towards them today? How am I helping the Word come to birth in the world? Where do I find the Lord's presence? Do I not know that I should be occupied with my Father's affairs? And so on for the rest ... humanity is greatly exalted through these mysteries of the Word made flesh, which embrace and transform all joy and sorrow, all understanding and desire for love.

Mary, says Hopkins, not only 'gave God's infinity, dwindled to infancy, welcome in womb and breast, birth, milk, and all the rest' but 'mothers each new grace that does now reach our race' ... countless such new graces reach our race through the rosary and very many people, clever and simple, have become great contemplatives through meditating on its mysteries.

What the Rosary means to me ... 12

Thinking back, I can remember saying the rosary with my family as a young boy. The attempt of my mother to get us all to settle down, concentrate and pray was heroic if not always successful. Yet the love for Our Lady and the rosary had its seeds in those early memories. The rosary, like the Eucharist, has been a constant strength in my spiritual life since I was young. Through it I have prayed at the times of my greatest need and for the needs of others. Often when I could not find the words to pray, the familiar and comforting lines of the rosary were my rock. For me the constant repetition of Hail Mary’s draws me into a relaxed state of meditation on the various mysteries of Christ’s life and ministry. It is also a way of greeting and expressing words of love an affection for a mother who has always guided me closer to her Son. I love the fact that it is such a scriptural prayer and yet so easy for all people to use and pray. Often I find it difficult to settle down and begin to say the rosary. But I can honestly say that afterwards I have always been grateful that I did. And so in whatever place you may be in life or faith, whether in family or single life, I think the rosary is a powerful help in drawing closer to the love of God through the hands of his loving Mother.