SERMON XXIV – William Elbert Munsey
THE FUTURE AND ETERNAL PUNISHMENT OF THE WICKED (DISCOURSE IV.).
” Then said the king to the servants, Bind him hand and foot, and take him away, and cast him into outer darkness ; there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” — Matt. 22:13.
PUNISHMENT is suffering inflicted by competent au- thority upon an evil-doer as a satisfaction to Justice. Its fundamental and primary element is that of retribution. The ideas of the prevention of crime and reformation of the criminal are but secondary and incidental, and only admissible under certain circumstances.
The idea that utility and expediency are the primary elements of the punishment of the wicked, and which is advocated by the Universalists now, cannot be admitted at all.
1. It changes the whole character of virtue. Whatever is expedient is virtue, whatever is inexpedient is vice. Accord- ing to this theory a thing becomes right because its end as far as we can see is a utile one — because its end is utility. According to this theory an act is wrong if it does not tend to utility and this supposes that human ideas of utility never vary, conflict, and are not relative, but that they are uniform, universal in their uniformity and are absolute and infallible.
A thing may seem to be of great utility to me, and not to you, and the result is that every man is his own standard of what is right. Such a theory upsets the whole system of ethics. According to this theory there is no distinction be- tween right and wrong, good and evil, as found in the char- acters of the things and acts themselves — as to the principles and relations involved. Utility and expediency are the touchstones. Truth and Justice are forever annihilated— distinctions hitherto believed by mankind to be such in virtue of the immutability of the nature of principles and relations, are unreal — and ethics, jurisprudence, and civilization, in fact all that is essential to the welfare of mankind, are destroyed forever. Men may do what the majority of their fellows may suppose to be evil, that what they selfishly believe to be good may be attained. Infernal and universal anarchy is the result.
2. If utility and expediency are the primary elements of punishment, and not retribution, if crime deserves not primarily punishment for its own sake, then the basis of demerit for the proper apportionment of punishment no longer exists, and the judge must punish the criminal according to his own ideas of what is necessary to reform the criminal and to deter other men, according to his own ideas of utility and expediency.
The criminal may be considered so far beyond reformation, that for general good he may be hung for stealing pins : or upon another hypothesis he may be imprisoned one day for murder. It is in perfect harmony with this theory that a man thought to be capable of doing what somebody supposed to be wrong, might be punished in advance of his act, or if convicted, another man punished in his place. The old woman, in the nursery tale, who whipped her children before she left home, under the supposition that they would do wrong in her absence, and the old man who whipped John for everything that Jesse did, were attached, and warmly and practically as the children doubtless thought, to this theory. Even the believer in this theory himself must admit the existence of in- exorable and immutable principles of justice lying behind and under his utilitarian scheme — and if he admits this he admits that the true sense of punishment is that of retribution. There is a real demerit in crime, and demerit deserves retribution.
The right to punish a criminal because he deserves it, and according to the demerit of his crime, is with God alone. In some few instances and of limited measure, God has dele- gated this power to governments.
But man has no right to even avenge himself — vengeance belongs only to God. Penalty, punishment is necessary to law, and retribution can only be the true and primary idea of penalty.
The idea of punishment as a reformatory and disciplinary measure cannot be admitted in a government of strict Justice, but only in a government of Mercy, as a measure of grace, of favor, in a state of probation preceding judgment. It is then confessedly a matter of favor. The scheme of Redemption is to reform and save sinful man, during an allotment of time — which God has given every man for the purpose — and during this allotment of time it harmonizes with the scheme of redemption, that punishment, though in some measure retributory, should be reformatory and disciplinary. We can all say with Ezra, ” Our God has punished us less than our iniquities deserve,” recognizing the basis of punishment, ” iniquities deserve,” and that punishments in this life have a corrective character. Take for illustration the curses pronounced upon man in the beginning, where punishment, radically retributory, become, because of the disciplinary character, high personal benefits : ” Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.” While the penalty of sin included physical death as a result, and it was in this sense retributory, but owing to the conditions and circumstances involved in man’s fall, physical death from the earth stand- point became a universal blessing : and the certainty of its infliction is one of the grandest disciplinary measures in the government of God. Said God, ” Cursed is the ground for thy sake.” That man should misuse the fruit almost spontaneously produced in Eden for his support, it was a righteous retribution that the ground hereafter should be cursed with comparative barrenness, yet this very barrenness and this preponderance of thistles and briers, inducing upon the part of man greater labor, is one of man’s most valuable blessings. The ground was not simply cursed, therefore, in a retribu- tory sense on account of man, but because it was then best for man. It was cursed for man’s sake, that is, on man’s account for man’s good. We .get accustomed to reading scripture in the light of a popular interpretation, and we will read it a thousand times and see nothing but that interpretation in it. You have read “Cursed is the ground” and you have seen but one meaning in it, and upon this meaning great theories have been erected — yet the meaning we give is as natural a one : we read the Bible with only one eye — take two eyes.
Infidelity has subserved a good purpose ; it has driven the church from untenable dogmas and opened inquiry into the real character and meaning of the word.
But punishment under a system of justice and government is retributory. Such a system of government is a natural one, and such is the natural idea of punishment judicially inflicted under such government, and such will be the punishment of the wicked after the dispensation of grace, after probation — and that grace and probation end at the close of this life, I have already shown you. This punishment will be inflicted upon the sinner forever, as I have shown you in four previous discourses, from the philosophy of the case, and the meaning of the Scriptures ; and it will be punishment, not annihilation. The annihilation of even the good would be no reproach upon the Divine Justice and Goodness, how then could it be considered punishment for the wicked ? Justice requires punishment for sin, as all admit, and the Bible says that wicked men and angels shall be tormented, day and night, forever and ever. Upon the words ” Forever and ever ” I have al ready treated. The Bible says the wicked shall die — but death does not mean annihilation. If death and annihilation are equivalent terms, then life and existence, their opposition words, respectively are equivalent terms ; and life and ex- istence are not equivalent terms, for many things exist which do not live. The word is not so used in the Bible or in any language or Book in the world. The Bible says the wicked shall perish, but perish no more means annihilation than it does in the verse, ” The righteous perisheth and no man layeth it to heart.” (Is. li. i.) Indeed the Bible says, “Truth is perished.” (Jer. vii. 28.) The Bible says that the wicked shall be destroyed, but God no more means that He will annihilate the wicked than David meant that the frogs annihilated the Egyptians when he wrote, ” He sent frogs among them which destroyed them.” (Ps. lxxviii. 45.) The Bible says the wicked shall be consumed, but it no more means annihilate than it does in the verse, ” The famine shall consume the land.” The onus probandi, however, rests upon the Annihilationists, and till they show that all these words mean something essentially different from what they mean in every book and language under the sun, we have nothing to do but pursue a plain, forward course, and simply ignore those who wrest the truth to their own destruction ; and by destruction I do not mean annihilation.
The Annihilationists draw back with horror from eternal punishment and claim that such punishment is inconsistent with God’s goodness and mercy. They teach that Divine Mercy suggests annihilation in place of eternal punishment. Here they give up the whole argument — if annihilation is a matter of grace, it is not the penalty of the law — it is not the punishment sin deserves ; and yet they claim that annihilation is the penalty of the law. There will not be, neither can be, any mixture of mercy in the penalty of the law. You remember the argument, last Sabbath week, that the intensity of God’s anger with the sinner must be in proportion to the intensity of His love of the righteous ; that the capacity and power to love logically implies the capacity and power to hate.
God hates sin in the same proportion He loves virtue. In- deed, love of the good is of itself hatred of the evil. They are the same. The eternal punishment of the wicked is not inconsistent with the divine goodness. For beings to be happy they must be virtuous : to be virtuous they must have the power of choice upon all moral questions. If God did not make men capable of sinning, He could not make them capable of being righteous. If God did not make men capable of sinning and therefore liable to punishment, He could not make them capable of being righteous, therefore of being happy.
The very fact of eternal punishment is evidence of the goodness and benevolence of God. Especially so when God made men to be happy, and they, in despite of all God has done for them, make themselves miserable. If you remove eternal punishment out of the way, you must remove the ability to choose good or evil— the foundations upon which this doctrine is built — and if you remove this foundation you rule out all happiness because you rule all virtue out of the universe.
After all that Divine goodness has done for man, if he, with his eyes open, and as a matter of choice, sins against God, abuses God’s love, grieves God’s Spirit and disappoints all the agencies God has appointed at so much cost to make him happy, and then, after God is willing to forgive him all, refuses in his pride and rebellion to ask God to do so, he certainly does deserve eternal punishment. If God did not punish such a man He would not deserve, neither would He receive the respect of good men. God owes it to the obedient to punish the disobedient. If disobedience is not punished, God’s government, upon whose rectitude and integrity the happiness of the righteous depend, is destroyed. God actually cannot insure to the righteous eternal happiness without punishing the sinner, and the infinite importance of law and government must fix the measure of the punishment.
The Universalists argue from the stand-point of the wicked ; but there are two sides : take the stand-point of the righteous as I have just done. Now leave the stand-point of humanity entirely and take the stand-point of Divine goodness. Look what God has done for man. He made him with all his senses and capacities, and made him good. He made the earth and adapted it to man, and when man sinned He taxed the resources of the universe to save him — Son — • Spirit — Angels — Gospel — Bible — preachers. But man has abused himself, the earth, and studies to insult all means given for his good. Does he not deserve eternal punishment ? Yes : and from the stand-point of Divine goodness all the righteous will argue when they say “Amen” and heartily approve of the eternal damnation of every sinner. Their love for God, their gratitude to Him, their own self- interest, will make them do it. Don’t stand, sinner, under the curse of eternal punishment and say : ” Why did God bring me into the world liable to such punishment ? ” You cannot throw the responsibility upon God. It is your own choice. God’s knowledge of it has nothing to do with it so long as you have the power to be eternally happy. If you want to indulge your passions and avoid the trouble of being religious — do it, but do not blame God. If you want to trample upon the body of Jesus, do it — you can do other- wise, and God wants you to do otherwise and has done everything He can to make you do otherwise, but do not blame God.
But blaming God or not doing it — you will be sent to Hell where you ought to go to suffer eternal punishment— and every man who loves God would not have it otherwise. I do assure you I would not — unless you comply with God’s reasonable terms. A hell of eternal torment is a terrible fact. I have discussed and illustrated the subject from every possible stand-point since these series of sermons began. Various hypotheses with relation to the character of the place have been given. Now there may be no place — the soul may simply be lost in that outer darkness of which Christ speaks. The word ” lost ” is a scriptural one. ” But if our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost.” In the future state the sinner will have lost all the pleasures and blessings of this life, and all the pleasures and blessings of the life to come. And also he will have lost his soul. When God reared this splendid microcosmical temple, as the masterpiece of His workmanship, He tenanted it with an intelligent immortal soul, a jewel from His own crown, and made it not the chief business, but the only business of man, to take care of it. The sinner in losing it will have lost his all.
Take the word ” lost ” in its popular sense : a ship at sea, out of sight of land, off the track of commercial travel, in unknown latitude. It has lost its compass, lost its reckoning. It seems to be the tiny centre of a vast world of waters bounded by the sky. The sailor knows not which way is land, or where the treacherous sand or dangerous -ledge lies concealed. They sail in all directions, but to no purpose. Their time of arrival has expired at port, and friends are waiting, still they are sailing they know not where. Provisions and water are gone, still they can make no reckoning. They are lost out upon the great ocean. Some days are calm : other days the proud spirits of the storm, starting out of their mysterious caves, walk the waters, and lash them into a tempest. Surging waves towering and spouting cataracts of foam in the angry and rolling chariot of billowy cloud upon which the Storm King sits and tosses from his red hands the thunders. For a moment the ship, with shivered masts and shredded canvas, trembles upon the towering crest of a mountain wave, then sinking rolls unman- ageable from side to side in the trough of the sea. Here we leave it lost out at sea — Ere this it has gone down, and mermaids stroke back the dank locks of the sailor boys and lay them out upon cold sea-weeds along the coral floors of their caves and chant their funeral.
A child in search of flowers wanders into the wilderness, it becomes bewildered among hills, rocks, and ravines, and tries to retrace its steps, but travels further the other way. It feeds upon roots and berries and sleeps at night upon withered leaves and downy moss. Wild beasts howl around its little bed and the owl hoots in the tree under which it rests and the little wood-cricket chirps its melancholy triplet under the rock at its head. It rises morning after morning, changing its bed every night and travels for days in a circuit or further away. It is lost. When hungry and tired and worn with travel it weeps for mother. Mother is weeping at home for her lost darling. But heats, rains, dews, hunger, and travel are too much for it — it makes its bed for the last time, and when morning comes it is pale, cold, and dead, the birds warble above it and the sunbeams shine on the dew- drops which nestle like pearls in its flowing hair. Lost child — you have heard the cry, the bell, in the winter night in the city.
Now suppose there is no Hell. Suppose the soul in no special or particular place of misery, but simply lost — flung by the power of God beyond creation’s boundaries into immeasurable wastes of night, where no world ever rolled in sight, no ray of light ever pencilled an image, no word or sound ever wandered, and over whose expanse no angel ever flew. See it traversing the darkness, and threading the inky abysms in search of worlds, in search of heaven, in search of something where there is nothing visible, tangible, or ponder- able— in search of something beside itself.
World smiles to world, and star shines to star, as they speed with lightning wing along their ethereal tracks : and the erratic cornet itself must needs shine for company, as it blazes in its eccentric flight through the illimitable ether, plying like the weaver’s shuttle from apsis to apsis— from point to point— crossing and decussating orbits, ecliptics and lines, and weaving its fiery hair into the plexus of universal being.
Saints commune with saints, angels with angels, and they all commune with God : but this soul, sympathetic and social in the very construction of its being, its state changed and not its constitutional nature, is eternally isolated from every- thing like itself, and plunged into an ocean of darkness in- terminable to its flagging wing, where no sight or sound will ever greet its aching sense, and doomed to wander in the pathless void while cycles roll and ages go grinding on. See it careering in its bewildered flight. It has crossed its track a thousand times, and recrossed it. It is lost ! lost ! beyond the power of finding. It knows it. It feels it, but still it flies, now advancing, now regressing. It turns, and turns again, and lo ! a blush of dusky light— a stupendous arch of massive bend, and a temple grand in its darkness, with dusky gates and dingy towers, greets its vision. It fain would scale the loftiest turret— it soars, it hovers, but oh, horror of horrors ! temple, gates, and towers melt away into darker gloom, and it is left in awful loneliness hanging in agony, but a speck of quivering terror in untenanted and unilluminated space. Shall it ascend, descend, or move off on a level ? There are no ups or downs, or recumbent planes where there is nothing. If ups, and downs, and planes there are, it may- soar up — up — up — forever, or dip down — down — down — forever, or rush on — on — on — forever — it is still, and through all eternity a lost soul.
See it — yonder — yonder — yonder. It goes that way : LOST ! lost ! lost / lost. It comes this way, shrieking lost! lost! lost! till our hearts stand still with horror. Scream on, and fly on, cursed and ruined spirit : no battlemented walls of towering jasper will ever meet thy gaze, or furnish a resting-place for thy weary pinion. Fly on, lost soul, forever, no angel of mercy will ever cross thy solitary way, or overtake thee in thy wanderings. Lost spirits ! blackened with the curse of thy God, fly on, and repeat in despairing cry the chorus of thine own horrible death-march, u lost, lost,”1 where no echoes will ever mock thy misery. Immortal soul ! lost in boundless, bottomless, infinite dark- ness, fly on, thou shalt never find company till the ghost of eternity will greet you over the grave of God, and thou shalt never find rest till thou art able to fold thy wings on the gravestone of thy Maker. And the Judge will say to the angels : ” Bind him hand and foot and take him away and cast him into outer dark- ness : there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” (Matt, xxii. 13.)
