The Paralysing Fear of Hell

I grew up never thinking about fear until it swooped in, surrounded me, consumed me, and constantly reminded me I couldn't escape its vicious stronghold.

I was lucky. My home life was safe and secure. I didn't have to face what many children fear daily. I didn't know it then, but I had privilege, because I went to bed every night knowing my parents weren't going to come home drunk and abusive, I knew my house wasn't going to be raided in the middle of the night by the police because of the colour of my skin (Dawn Raids) and I knew there would always be food on our table.

I was lucky. I was born with privilege. Those fears and realities that affected some of my classmates and neighbours never crossed my mind, but they certainly set up house in the minds of many of my classmates in the 70s and 80s. My earliest fears had nothing to do with abuse, or hunger, or violence, or deportation, or incarceration. As a young fella, I only remember fearing two things: speaking in front of others and someone breaking into my house while I was having a shower and being seen naked! That was it! Strange, I know, but that was it!

Two fears turned into three when the bullying started. But these fears were circumstantial; they didn't occupy my mind 24/7.

And then a particular fear swept in and paralysed me! I started fearing God. I feared the always watching, all-knowing, all-powerful, omnipresent God. This view of God was supposed to be comforting, but it terrified the hell out of me because the God who had "knit me together in my mother's womb" had also created a Lake of Fire for those who were non-compliant. This Lake of Fire and Brimstone was created by our Loving God for those who didn't tick the right boxes to suffer and perish in. I feared the God who knew my every thought and action. I feared God because we were taught that we were born sinners, worthy only of the fires of hell and the only way to save ourselves from this fiery torture chamber was to do the right formula at the right time, and if we do that, we'd get to be one of the favoured few to occupy the eternal blissfulness of heaven.

I feared God because I didn't know him as a Loving God, but as a Holy God, an all-powerful, eternal Being who had to satisfy his wrath. This scared me. This terrified me. This petrified me. We were taught that God had to create Hell because of how unworthy and despicable and totally depraved we all are as humans, so in an act of sacrificial love, God sent his Son (Jesus) to earth to be crucified for us, and thus, save us from our justified and deserved impending torment.

Every night, I went to bed petrified. I thought, what if I die before I wake, would I be cast into hell? Have I prayed right? Have I repented right? Have I missed asking forgiveness for some unknown sin? Have I read my Bible enough? Have I done my morning devotions? Have I ticked all the right boxes? Do I even know which boxes I need to tick? Every night was restless. I would pray for forgiveness multiple times. I prayed that Jesus would come into my heart and save me countless times. I feared my ignorance and limitations would result in me doing something wrong, so out of fear, I would pray, pray, pray, but still believe I wasn't saved.

I'm going to highlight 4 influences that elevated my fear. These are theologies and theologians and concepts that constantly reminded me how small I was, how unpredictable the afterlife is and how unworthy I am of getting granted that golden ticket to the “good side”…

1. My childhood church had a unique belief that was different to most churches. My denomination (Church of Christ - Life and Advent) believed in an eschatology called Conditional Immortality. This means we're born mortal, but gifted immortality when we give our lives to Jesus. Conditional Immortality is the belief that we'll burn up and perish in the Lake of Fire. When I found out that most Western Christians believe in an everlasting torment, that also did a number on me, causing me to wonder if I was destined to an eternity of burning, but never ever dying.
2. Another belief I grew up believing was a theology called Dispensationalism. I thought every Christian believed this until I went to Bible College. This theological concept believes God has divided time into distinct dispensations (or historical periods), and he is obligated to make them happen one after the other. Some of the main epochs are the restoration of Israel (Christian Zionism), the Rapture of believers and the resulting 7 years of tribulation (premillennialism). Dispensationalism justifies the current genocide in Gaza because it's part of God's unfolding plan to restore Israel and bring about the next dispensation (The Rapture and the Great Tribulation). As a youngster, the concept of this ever-pending Rapture terrified me, as I didn't know if I'd make the call up, and then I'd have to live through the Great Tribulation, which sounded horrifying. To add to my fears, churches everywhere showed a movie called "A Thief in the Night", which was a dispensationalist movie about Jesus suddenly returning to collect his own (The Rapture), and those left behind trying to endure and survive beheadings, the mark of the beast and more, through the Tribulation. The background music to this movie was Larry Norman's "I wish we'd all been ready", which only added to the fear. (IYKYK)
3. Sometime in my teens, I was confronted by a new theology. I'd never heard of Calvinism before, because I had always understood that we make an individual choice to follow Jesus and invite him into our hearts (Arminianism). Sometime in my teens, I was told that this was false and John Calvin's system was the right theology. My fear rapidly increased because Calvinism holds the belief that we are totally depraved in the sight of God, and he, out of his love, predestines an elect few for heaven and an elect many for eternal damnation. My fears were exacerbated by the fact that I had no power or ability to know if God had chosen me to be favoured or condemned. I wrestled with this theology. This thought, this concept, that grew out of the 16th Century, terrified me; it occupied my mind and caused fear on top of fear.
4. As a teenager, I was involved in our Church's youth group. For those unfamiliar with what youth groups are and do, it is a place for the Church's young people to gather and attend camps, Bible studies, and activities together. It was an important part of my teenage years. I made lifelong friends there. During this time, we were influenced by some renowned preachers: New Zealand evangelist Julian Batchelor, followed by American fundamentalist John MacArthur, are the two that stand out. We went to camps and conferences to hear these men. If you don't know who they are, look them up and be wary! They both, in different ways and with confidence, fed us fear on top of fear! Their messages and theologies may have been different, but they were essentially the same, as they preached "we're saved by grace", they also preached a message of extensive works you need to do (or be) to be saved. They both had the same narrative, which fed my fear; if you don't do the right thing at the right time in the right way, eternal damnation will be your everlasting destination.

I would wrestle with these concepts. I was trying to work out my salvation. It didn't make sense to me. How could a loving God, who loves all of humanity, condemn so many to hell? How could a loving God cast people into the Lake of Fire because of where they lived, who they associated with, or what family they were born into? Could listening to heavy metal, drinking alcohol or driving over the speed limit fast-track me into the "bad place"? I remember having debates about whether newborn babies deserved to suffer eternally because we're all born sinners. These questions and thoughts scared the living hell outta me!

I remember, I don't know how old I was, but my dad asked me what I believed the main purpose of being a Christian was. I responded by saying "to get into heaven". Dad had this look of shock on his face; he seemed annoyed and disappointed by how naive my answer was. He explained that our purpose as Christians is to honour and worship God, to live our lives serving him. At the time, I was too self-absorbed, too depressed and too fearful to get what he meant; I just wanted to escape a torturous destination, but upon reflection, this brief discussion was eye-opening and has stuck with me to this day. Upon reflection, my dad's look caused me to reevaluate my fears and purpose here on earth.

I went through this period in my teens when I tried to run away from God. I tried to deny God and free myself from him. I wanted to escape these fears. I hated my existence and wanted to end my existence here, but I feared that suicide would only take me from this living hell into the fiery pits of hell. I felt trapped. I felt oppressed. I felt depressed. I prayed God would take me, as I questioned how our Loving God could allow such a hellish existence here on earth, and then an even more hellish existence in the life to come. When I reflect on this time, my rock bottom, I believe this is when I truly started to pray and cry out to God from a place of genuine honesty and realness.

After months of crying out to God and realising I had to endure this present reality, I decided to return to the Lord. I remembered the words Dad had said, that our life here on earth is more than just trying to escape hell and get into heaven. I took on board that we live to love and serve God, and to love and serve our neighbours. Even though fear still lingered in the background, I decided to fight it. I challenged it. I changed my focus. I chose to live in a way that looks at what's positive. I made a concerted effort to change my mindset from "Who shouldn't I be?" to "Who can I become?"

I decided to focus on what we should be becoming, rather than what we're doing wrong. I decided to meditate on the fruit of the Spirit, rather than all those verses that tell us how bad and rotten and undeserving we are and can be. I read "there is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear", so I decided to make a concerted effort to love, to love my enemies, to love my neighbours, especially my most marginalised neighbours!

And you know what, in choosing Love, fear started disappearing.

Fear is a powerful emotion, but Love is more powerful.

When I first started working at the shelter and went into prisons, I realised people don't need to be reminded how sinful or unworthy they are. The bars, the cuffs, the lack of a home and the stigma already speak volumes. People, especially those who are poor and marginalised, need to know they are loved and worthy and have potential. I can't tell you how many times those experiencing homelessness told me that God couldn't love them because of what they'd done or who they were. Even though many have prayed, in humility and tears, like the repentant tax-collector, they are convinced that everlasting torment is their only option. This saddens me! I have made it my mission that my words and deeds wouldn't provoke more fear, but would rather provoke worthiness. My mission has been to change that inner dialogue. My mission is to reveal a God of Love. My mission is to let people know, through my words and deeds, that they are not imposters, but a people who have been given "love, power and a sound mind".

I no longer believe in a god who is determined to torture those who don't tick the right boxes. I no longer believe that God is up in heaven determining that gay people, Palestinians, prisoners or those who love death metal are on the fast track to hell, while those who proclaim a Christianity born out of colonisation and slavery are the only ones who get to spend eternity in the blissfulness of heaven. I believe God is bigger and more powerful than our fears. God, who is lovingly compassionate and generous, gathers us like a mother hen gathers her chicks under her wings. I believe in a God of Love: a God who wishes all to find salvation, all to find liberation, and all to live an abundant, fear-free life.

Fear: Don't let it rob you! Don't let it oppress you! Don't let it paralyse you! Don't let it depress you!

Let Love reign in your lives: Let it reward you! Let it liberate you! Let it use you to heal and free others! Let it give you an abundant life!