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Dare We Hope That All Men Be Saved?
The Church's teaching on Hell has been generally neglected by theologians, with the notable exception of Fr. von Balthasar. However, what he has said has stirred controversy both in Europe and in the United States. Here he responds in a clear and concise way, grounding his reflections clearly in Scripture. Revelation gives us neither the assurance that all will be saved, nor the certitude that any are condemned. What it does require of us is the "hope that all men be saved" rooted in a love of Christ that reaches even into the depths of Hell.
254 pages, Paperback
First published November 1, 1988
About the author
Hans Urs von Balthasar
389 books263 followersHans Urs von Balthasar was a Swiss theologian and priest who was nominated to be a cardinal of the Catholic Church. He is considered one of the most important theologians of the 20th century.
Born in Lucerne, Switzerland on 12 August 1905, he attended Stella Matutina (Jesuit school) in Feldkirch, Austria. He studied in Vienna, Berlin and Zurich, gaining a doctorate in German literature. He joined the Jesuits in 1929, and was ordained in 1936. He worked in Basel as a student chaplain. In 1950 he left the Jesuit order, feeling that God had called him to found a Secular Institute, a lay form of consecrated life that sought to work for the sanctification of the world especially from within. He joined the diocese of Chur. From the low point of being banned from teaching, his reputation eventually rose to the extent that John Paul II asked him to be a cardinal in 1988. However he died in his home in Basel on 26 June 1988, two days before the ceremony. Balthasar was interred in the Hofkirche cemetery in Lucern.
Along with Karl Rahner and Bernard Lonergan, Balthasar sought to offer an intellectual, faithful response to Western modernism. While Rahner offered a progressive, accommodating position on modernity and Lonergan worked out a philosophy of history that sought to critically appropriate modernity, Balthasar resisted the reductionism and human focus of modernity, wanting Christianity to challenge modern sensibilities.
Balthasar is very eclectic in his approach, sources, and interests and remains difficult to categorize. An example of his eclecticism was his long study and conversation with the influential Reformed Swiss theologian, Karl Barth, of whose work he wrote the first Catholic analysis and response. Although Balthasar's major points of analysis on Karl Barth's work have been disputed, his The Theology of Karl Barth: Exposition and Interpretation (1951) remains a classic work for its sensitivity and insight; Karl Barth himself agreed with its analysis of his own theological enterprise, calling it the best book on his own theology.
Balthasar's Theological Dramatic Theory has influenced the work of Raymund Schwager.
Born in Lucerne, Switzerland on 12 August 1905, he attended Stella Matutina (Jesuit school) in Feldkirch, Austria. He studied in Vienna, Berlin and Zurich, gaining a doctorate in German literature. He joined the Jesuits in 1929, and was ordained in 1936. He worked in Basel as a student chaplain. In 1950 he left the Jesuit order, feeling that God had called him to found a Secular Institute, a lay form of consecrated life that sought to work for the sanctification of the world especially from within. He joined the diocese of Chur. From the low point of being banned from teaching, his reputation eventually rose to the extent that John Paul II asked him to be a cardinal in 1988. However he died in his home in Basel on 26 June 1988, two days before the ceremony. Balthasar was interred in the Hofkirche cemetery in Lucern.
Along with Karl Rahner and Bernard Lonergan, Balthasar sought to offer an intellectual, faithful response to Western modernism. While Rahner offered a progressive, accommodating position on modernity and Lonergan worked out a philosophy of history that sought to critically appropriate modernity, Balthasar resisted the reductionism and human focus of modernity, wanting Christianity to challenge modern sensibilities.
Balthasar is very eclectic in his approach, sources, and interests and remains difficult to categorize. An example of his eclecticism was his long study and conversation with the influential Reformed Swiss theologian, Karl Barth, of whose work he wrote the first Catholic analysis and response. Although Balthasar's major points of analysis on Karl Barth's work have been disputed, his The Theology of Karl Barth: Exposition and Interpretation (1951) remains a classic work for its sensitivity and insight; Karl Barth himself agreed with its analysis of his own theological enterprise, calling it the best book on his own theology.
Balthasar's Theological Dramatic Theory has influenced the work of Raymund Schwager.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 56 reviews
July 29, 2011
The premise of this book is fairly simple and plain and yet as with all things Balthasar it remains incredibly dense. Here are two quotes that capture a sense of what is being purported.
"... love hopes all things (1 Cor 13:7). It cannot do otherwise than to hope for the reconciliation of all men in Christ. Such unlimited hope is, from the Christian standpoint, not only permitted but commanded" (213).
"I would like to request that one be permitted to hope that God's redemptive work for his creation might succeed. Certainty cannot be attained, but hope can be justified" (187).
He covers a lot of ground in this small book and the tension he holds is commendable and I believe thoroughly biblical. This work is actually composed of three shorter writings. The first (Dare We Hope) is chronologically where he began to layout his thoughts on this controversial topic. The second (A Short Discourse) is a response to the critics of the first. The third and last portion is basically an epilogue comprised of two chapters dealing with 'apokatastasis' (i.e. universal salvation). Overall, this work definitely provides one with some thoughtful fodder for meditation on an oft neglected subject.
"... love hopes all things (1 Cor 13:7). It cannot do otherwise than to hope for the reconciliation of all men in Christ. Such unlimited hope is, from the Christian standpoint, not only permitted but commanded" (213).
"I would like to request that one be permitted to hope that God's redemptive work for his creation might succeed. Certainty cannot be attained, but hope can be justified" (187).
He covers a lot of ground in this small book and the tension he holds is commendable and I believe thoroughly biblical. This work is actually composed of three shorter writings. The first (Dare We Hope) is chronologically where he began to layout his thoughts on this controversial topic. The second (A Short Discourse) is a response to the critics of the first. The third and last portion is basically an epilogue comprised of two chapters dealing with 'apokatastasis' (i.e. universal salvation). Overall, this work definitely provides one with some thoughtful fodder for meditation on an oft neglected subject.
August 6, 2020
I'm a "traditional Catholic", or as I prefer to think of it, simply a Catholic Christian. As such, I've heard a lot about this book and its author, 99% of it very negative. I decided to read the book for myself and see if what Balthasar says is honestly represented by his critics. ....critics which I always consider as being on "my side". I can only say that I've been pleasantly surprised to read this book and find myself edified and in a sense, humbled. I find it unfortunate that those of us who are very concerned about orthodoxy, and rightly so, seem unwilling to read what Balthasar says in its full context. I say this because from what I can tell, the negative characterization of his writings in this book can only come from reading him outside of the context he intentionally sets at the very beginning of his book and which he clearly endeavors to maintain throughout the book, lest we forget it and misunderstand him.
I'm open to correction of course. I could, in my ignorance, have been mistaken in my general understanding of the topic.
I'm open to correction of course. I could, in my ignorance, have been mistaken in my general understanding of the topic.
June 22, 2014
Hans Urs Von Balthasar narrowly avoids outright heresy by offering his book as mere speculation and possibility rather than an assertion.
He is flatly contradicted not only by the witness of scripture but by the regula fidei (rule of faith); throughout all of historic Christian orthodoxy it has been agreed that hell is everlasting.
So, based on this fact, we may not have a reasonable hope that all men may be saved.
If this was the case, the implications for the meaning and purpose of the cross, the resurrection, the judgment and the electing purpose of God in Christ would all be cheapened.
Just bad stuff. A more intellectually rigorous and sophisticated version of Rob Bell's "Love Wins".
He is flatly contradicted not only by the witness of scripture but by the regula fidei (rule of faith); throughout all of historic Christian orthodoxy it has been agreed that hell is everlasting.
So, based on this fact, we may not have a reasonable hope that all men may be saved.
If this was the case, the implications for the meaning and purpose of the cross, the resurrection, the judgment and the electing purpose of God in Christ would all be cheapened.
Just bad stuff. A more intellectually rigorous and sophisticated version of Rob Bell's "Love Wins".
April 30, 2020
Back in 1988 this book stirred up the water in theological circles, or so I have heard. In 2020 its still worth a read if you are interested in Christian views of hell and heaven, but overall, it is kind of vanilla.
The question for the book is the title: should we hope that all men will be saved? I mean, of course we should hope that. Why is this a question? Balthasar is not arguing all will be saved, he is simply arguing it is okay to hope for it. Most of those he interacts with are Catholics, so its like reading an old debate between people you don't really know (unless you're Catholic).
Also, the debate has shifted greatly since then. We have books on top of books not just arguing we should hope for all to be saved, but arguing all WILL be saved. Whether they argue strongly (like David Bentley Hart, who took Balthasar to task in his book) or sound more like Balthasar (like Brad Jersak) or if they show that plenty in the early church thought all will be saved (as Illaria Ramelli) the question of whether all will be saved has certainly shifted. Balthasar's book is definitely worth a read, depending where you are at. But again, to imagine it is out of bounds to merely hope for all to be saved seems odd.
My favorite takeaway from this book is Balthasar's talk on Paul's willingness to be cursed on behalf of his own people. From this, he challenges us to imagine everyone else being saved except for ourselves. This is challenging and humbling because we often think through these questions by thinking of others - "of course I am saved, but will such and such or so and so be saved?" Why do we put ourselves in the saved group? The discussion shifts, perhaps we become more humble, if we do not assume we're in.
Overall, a worthy book to read if you're interested in the topic. But depending where you are at, it might be a bit disappointing.
The question for the book is the title: should we hope that all men will be saved? I mean, of course we should hope that. Why is this a question? Balthasar is not arguing all will be saved, he is simply arguing it is okay to hope for it. Most of those he interacts with are Catholics, so its like reading an old debate between people you don't really know (unless you're Catholic).
Also, the debate has shifted greatly since then. We have books on top of books not just arguing we should hope for all to be saved, but arguing all WILL be saved. Whether they argue strongly (like David Bentley Hart, who took Balthasar to task in his book) or sound more like Balthasar (like Brad Jersak) or if they show that plenty in the early church thought all will be saved (as Illaria Ramelli) the question of whether all will be saved has certainly shifted. Balthasar's book is definitely worth a read, depending where you are at. But again, to imagine it is out of bounds to merely hope for all to be saved seems odd.
My favorite takeaway from this book is Balthasar's talk on Paul's willingness to be cursed on behalf of his own people. From this, he challenges us to imagine everyone else being saved except for ourselves. This is challenging and humbling because we often think through these questions by thinking of others - "of course I am saved, but will such and such or so and so be saved?" Why do we put ourselves in the saved group? The discussion shifts, perhaps we become more humble, if we do not assume we're in.
Overall, a worthy book to read if you're interested in the topic. But depending where you are at, it might be a bit disappointing.
September 10, 2020
I’ve read quite a bit on the teaching of universal reconciliation, from ancient church fathers to contemporary writers, so I’m pretty familiar with the arguments. I’m also pretty familiar with the range of confidence theologians have been willing to place in the idea, from the more “hopeful” position of someone like Brad Jersak to the staunch position of someone like David Bentley Hart. Reading Dare We Hope, I found myself increasingly frustrated with Balthasar’s timidity. I respect the “hopeful” position in general, but in my opinion this felt like a version of hopefulism with such little bite that it can feel borderline meaningless. Balthasar seems so committed to tiptoeing through the minefield that is 2000 years of orthodox theology and tradition without ruffling any feathers, that his arguments land with very little impact and I regularly ended passages unsure of what he himself even believed.
Maybe I should have taken the title a little more literally, because Balthasar spends several chapters trying to justify the idea that the Christian could even rightfully hope for the ultimate good of every soul (not even claim it as a belief), which really left me scratching my head. That it could be considered even problematic to simply hope for universal reconciliation had never occurred to me. He spends so much time creeping around this idea of hope, which felt unnecessary and frankly convoluted, using a mixture of Biblical texts and systematic theology in an effort to crack open the door to universal reconciliation quietly and without letting more than just a sliver of light in. In my opinion he could have done all of this work much more efficiently in just a few pages by citing a few well-known passages of the New Testament as follows:
1a: Jesus tells his followers to pray that "God’s will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven." (Matthew 6)
1b: God’s will for the world expressly includes the salvation of all people (2 Peter 3, 1 Timothy 2)
1c: Therefore, when we pray that God’s will be done, we are free to pray for the reconciliation and salvation of all people (whether or not that makes universal salvation an eschatological inevitability or merely an open-ended possibility remains a separate discussion). Moving from prayer for universal salvation to hope for universal salvation seems pretty straightforward from that point. Also:
2a: 1 Corinthians 13:7 - "Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” I’m sure you could come up with a way to move "hoping for all things” away from universal salvation, but I think the text (especially in it’s larger context in 1 Corinthians) not only leaves open that possibility, but actually encourages it (Balthasar does mention this verse a couple times, but in my opinion he doesn’t do much to unpack it).
While I think finding the “permission” to hope for universal salvation should have been pretty straightforward using the text, again, I just don’t know why Balthasar feels compelled to spend so much time on that idea. I guess he’s really trying to make it abundantly clear that his theology is a hopeful one and not one of certainty like that of Gregory of Nyssa, but man, it feels like he is holding himself back from saying what he wants in order to avoid anything even slightly off-color within his Catholic tradition. He even lets others quote the more bold universalist statements for him, which was some of my favorite content in the book, but he always remains careful to not affirm too strongly any of their theological visions. Maybe this is just my own misunderstanding of the context he was writing in.
Overall, I felt like Balthasar leaned too heavily into systematic theology for a discussion about universal hope. Obviously this discussion is going to require a lot of nuanced theology and exegesis, but I just really don’t think a topic like hope can end in the realm of the systematic. Something like hope has to extend out of the abstract and into the daily Christian life, and directly inform how a Christian understands the very heart of Christ. At no point did I feel like Balthasar unpacked why or how exactly such a hope would be important or meaningful in the Christian life (even in the chapter explicitly titled “The Obligation To Hope For All”). To me he felt stuck in the world of calculated, traditional theology, and I’m not sure if that was by choice or because he felt uncomfortable breaking out of that world for fear of condemnation by his contemporaries (which he ended up receiving anyway).
This all said, I found Balthasar’s division of “pre-easter” texts (the synoptic gospels) from “post-easter” texts (the Johannian and Pauline texts) really thought provoking. I liked his short passage on the parable of the rich man and Lazarus. I also found the epilogue discussion about the early understanding of apokatastasis really interesting. The book is also well written, although I really wish Balthasar would have been more forthcoming about his position. I would recommend this book to people interested in the dialogue around universal salvation, but I would not recommend it as an argument for a specific position so much as a series of short musings on the tension we find throughout the New Testament. I realize this is an important text in this discussion, but I ironically felt less “hopeful” after reading this book than before starting it. I think some of the most interesting ideas discussed in this book were much more beautifully unpacked in George MacDonald’s series "Unspoken Sermons,” such as Paul wishing he could be accursed on behalf of his brethren (see MacDonald’s sermon “Love Thy Neighbor”) and the tension between God’s justice and his mercy (see MacDonald’s sermon “Justice”).
Maybe I should have taken the title a little more literally, because Balthasar spends several chapters trying to justify the idea that the Christian could even rightfully hope for the ultimate good of every soul (not even claim it as a belief), which really left me scratching my head. That it could be considered even problematic to simply hope for universal reconciliation had never occurred to me. He spends so much time creeping around this idea of hope, which felt unnecessary and frankly convoluted, using a mixture of Biblical texts and systematic theology in an effort to crack open the door to universal reconciliation quietly and without letting more than just a sliver of light in. In my opinion he could have done all of this work much more efficiently in just a few pages by citing a few well-known passages of the New Testament as follows:
1a: Jesus tells his followers to pray that "God’s will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven." (Matthew 6)
1b: God’s will for the world expressly includes the salvation of all people (2 Peter 3, 1 Timothy 2)
1c: Therefore, when we pray that God’s will be done, we are free to pray for the reconciliation and salvation of all people (whether or not that makes universal salvation an eschatological inevitability or merely an open-ended possibility remains a separate discussion). Moving from prayer for universal salvation to hope for universal salvation seems pretty straightforward from that point. Also:
2a: 1 Corinthians 13:7 - "Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” I’m sure you could come up with a way to move "hoping for all things” away from universal salvation, but I think the text (especially in it’s larger context in 1 Corinthians) not only leaves open that possibility, but actually encourages it (Balthasar does mention this verse a couple times, but in my opinion he doesn’t do much to unpack it).
While I think finding the “permission” to hope for universal salvation should have been pretty straightforward using the text, again, I just don’t know why Balthasar feels compelled to spend so much time on that idea. I guess he’s really trying to make it abundantly clear that his theology is a hopeful one and not one of certainty like that of Gregory of Nyssa, but man, it feels like he is holding himself back from saying what he wants in order to avoid anything even slightly off-color within his Catholic tradition. He even lets others quote the more bold universalist statements for him, which was some of my favorite content in the book, but he always remains careful to not affirm too strongly any of their theological visions. Maybe this is just my own misunderstanding of the context he was writing in.
Overall, I felt like Balthasar leaned too heavily into systematic theology for a discussion about universal hope. Obviously this discussion is going to require a lot of nuanced theology and exegesis, but I just really don’t think a topic like hope can end in the realm of the systematic. Something like hope has to extend out of the abstract and into the daily Christian life, and directly inform how a Christian understands the very heart of Christ. At no point did I feel like Balthasar unpacked why or how exactly such a hope would be important or meaningful in the Christian life (even in the chapter explicitly titled “The Obligation To Hope For All”). To me he felt stuck in the world of calculated, traditional theology, and I’m not sure if that was by choice or because he felt uncomfortable breaking out of that world for fear of condemnation by his contemporaries (which he ended up receiving anyway).
This all said, I found Balthasar’s division of “pre-easter” texts (the synoptic gospels) from “post-easter” texts (the Johannian and Pauline texts) really thought provoking. I liked his short passage on the parable of the rich man and Lazarus. I also found the epilogue discussion about the early understanding of apokatastasis really interesting. The book is also well written, although I really wish Balthasar would have been more forthcoming about his position. I would recommend this book to people interested in the dialogue around universal salvation, but I would not recommend it as an argument for a specific position so much as a series of short musings on the tension we find throughout the New Testament. I realize this is an important text in this discussion, but I ironically felt less “hopeful” after reading this book than before starting it. I think some of the most interesting ideas discussed in this book were much more beautifully unpacked in George MacDonald’s series "Unspoken Sermons,” such as Paul wishing he could be accursed on behalf of his brethren (see MacDonald’s sermon “Love Thy Neighbor”) and the tension between God’s justice and his mercy (see MacDonald’s sermon “Justice”).
January 16, 2016
Hans Urs Von Balthasar with Joseph Ratzinger (Pope Benedict XVI), Karol Wojtyla (Pope John Paul II) and Henri Lubac were some of the most influential Catholic theologians of the 20th century. Balthasar was a close personal friend with Ratzinger and was appointed Cardinal by Pope JP II after Balthasar declined the appointment the first two times. Regrettably, Balthasar died before accepting the red hat after finally accepting the offer on Pope JP II's third, and most persistent, offer to Balthasar. Along with the great Protestant theologian Barth (good friend of Balthasar), Tillich, Bonhoffer, and even Lewis and Schweitzer, they are/were some of the most influential Christian theologians of the 20th century.
Although one of the easier reads for Balthasar (and every time I read Balthasar), he seems to open up more questions than answers, more crevices of thoughts that will take me 30 or 40 more books to climb out. I guess your best teachers don't always give you the answers, but, instead, teach you to think, struggle, and ultimately learn..
Although one of the easier reads for Balthasar (and every time I read Balthasar), he seems to open up more questions than answers, more crevices of thoughts that will take me 30 or 40 more books to climb out. I guess your best teachers don't always give you the answers, but, instead, teach you to think, struggle, and ultimately learn..
June 14, 2023
A short book on the question of whether, from a Christian perspective, a believer can maintain the hope that all humanity will be saved in the end.
I really enjoyed this book, though I would caution against just diving into this, as it is clearly written towards an audience with a good understanding of Catholic theology/history. I think a working understanding of the major points of Christian theology - especially those around judgement, mercy, salvation, goodness/truth/beauty, and faith/hope/love - is sufficient enough to bring a reader in to the machinations of Balthasar’s mind. Any academic reading can be dangerous territory as we encounter new syntax, structures, argumentation styles, and structures of discourse, and certainly this text will provide those unfamiliar with theological discourse an interesting forest of ideas to observe.
Balthasar clearly expects a certain amount of prior knowledge as some points are left undeveloped and an argument can twist on the most innocuous sentence. I appreciated Balthasar taking up what I have encountered as serious paradoxes/contradictions within Christian theology, and I probably only understood about 80% of the whole argument.
Somewhat unique to this book is the large number of female authors and voices cited and used throughout. A really welcome break from the typical male-dominated bibliographies!
I really enjoyed this book, though I would caution against just diving into this, as it is clearly written towards an audience with a good understanding of Catholic theology/history. I think a working understanding of the major points of Christian theology - especially those around judgement, mercy, salvation, goodness/truth/beauty, and faith/hope/love - is sufficient enough to bring a reader in to the machinations of Balthasar’s mind. Any academic reading can be dangerous territory as we encounter new syntax, structures, argumentation styles, and structures of discourse, and certainly this text will provide those unfamiliar with theological discourse an interesting forest of ideas to observe.
Balthasar clearly expects a certain amount of prior knowledge as some points are left undeveloped and an argument can twist on the most innocuous sentence. I appreciated Balthasar taking up what I have encountered as serious paradoxes/contradictions within Christian theology, and I probably only understood about 80% of the whole argument.
Somewhat unique to this book is the large number of female authors and voices cited and used throughout. A really welcome break from the typical male-dominated bibliographies!
December 30, 2023
There are some real gems of insight here and I thoroughly enjoyed the book. Some of my favorites were 1) recognizing the NT contains both warnings of (seemingly) harsh eternal judgement and promises of God's total victory of reconciliation in Christ 2) the meaning of Paul's desire to be cursed for the sake of Israel 3) the impossibility of dividing God's judgment from his love.
One review described this book as "vanilla," and in a sense, that's true. The main conclusion that it's okay to hope for the salvation of all is a bit underwhelming. There's a lot more that could be said and said more strongly. At times, Balthasar works toward a conclusion just to pull back at the last minute without much justification for it.
I certainly recommend this for an interesting read.
One review described this book as "vanilla," and in a sense, that's true. The main conclusion that it's okay to hope for the salvation of all is a bit underwhelming. There's a lot more that could be said and said more strongly. At times, Balthasar works toward a conclusion just to pull back at the last minute without much justification for it.
I certainly recommend this for an interesting read.
March 27, 2014
I have to rave about the physical book. Ignatius Press turns out expensive, but incredibly well-made paperbacks. Their editions are printed on quality paper with excellent bindings.
One of those books I will not read in the presence of food and drink.
One of those books I will not read in the presence of food and drink.
September 28, 2020
Great book and thesis. Makes an argument from Aquinas, Augustine, Clement, and a number of female Catholic mystics from the Middle Ages. Just my kind of stuff.
The premise is that we, as people, are more awful than we can conceive of, and that God loves us more than we can fathom. Seems legit.
The premise is that we, as people, are more awful than we can conceive of, and that God loves us more than we can fathom. Seems legit.
March 31, 2024
Written by a highly respected Catholic theologian, this book affirms the existence of hell, though not part of God's creation he asks if we can dare to hope he'll is empty without adopting apokastasis.
August 8, 2017
This is an excellent book that gives a Catholic lots to think about! It is very controversial and often misunderstood. It was a great first theological work for me to tackle and I found it easy to follow and understand. It definitely made me question where I had gotten certain ideas on hell and gave me a far greater hope than I had before. I would definitely recommend it!
March 28, 2023
Dare We Hope “That All Men Be Saved”? is a classic and controversial essay from the Swiss theologian Hans Urs von Balthasar, one of the most influential Catholic thinkers of the nouvelle théologie movement in the mid-twentieth century. While Balthasar leans heavily on patristic thinkers as part of his ressourcement theological method, he locates the foremost interpretive problem with respect to the doctrine of hell in divine revelation. In effect, Balthasar identifies two sets of biblical texts that seem to exist in tension. On the one hand, there are the “infernalist” texts that allude to or threaten the prospect of eternal punishment for those who alienate themselves from or openly defy God and fail to repent. On the other hand, there are the “universalist” texts that underscore the universality of Christ’s redemptive mission and stress God’s desire that all people be saved. What explains these ostensibly opposed statements in the New Testament about eternal punishment and the salvation of all? Is it possible to decide between them?
The Roman Catholic Church teaches that universalism, the idea that we know that all people will be saved, is a heresy. This is because, in view of the infernalist texts scattered across the New Testament, we simply cannot conclude with certainty that all people will be saved; hell must be a real option for each and every person. As Balthasar characterizes this notion that permanent alienation from God is always a possibility, “man [sic.] is under judgment and must choose” (6). That is, the infernalist texts indicate that our lives are permeated with moments of moral decision in the eyes of God and that we think and act not only in relation to ourselves and one another, but also in relation to God, our creator. We can live in accordance with the will of God and what pleases God, or we can live in rejection of and apart from God. Consequently, as Josef Pieper, the famous neo-Thomist Catholic philosopher would put it, the universalist position is presumptuous: it claims to know what it cannot know and so eradicates the need for supernatural hope, a core element in the Christian life. What then to do with the texts that imply universal salvation, which several eminent Church Fathers—like Origen, Gregory of Nyssa, Clement of Alexandria, Maximus the Confessor, and Didymus the Blind, all of whom did defend universalism, or some notion very close to it—insist we must take seriously? Does our consent to the authority of Church doctrine mean we must simply overlook these texts, or interpret them differently?
For Balthasar, the clear answer to this latter question is no. In view of what God has accomplished in Christ by the power of the cross and resurrection, and in view of the second, universalist set of texts mentioned earlier, Balthasar insists that we may reasonably hope that all people will be saved. Indeed, Balthasar even alludes to the “obligation to hope [for salvation] for all” (169-177). He favorably cites Hermann-Josef Lauter, who writes: “Will it really be all men who allow themselves to be reconciled [to God]? No theology or prophecy can answer this question. But love hopes all things (1 Cor. 13:7). It cannot do otherwise than to hope for the reconciliation of all men in Christ. Such unlimited hope is, from the Christian standpoint, not only permitted but commanded” (171). It is not clear to me whether Balthasar whole-heartedly endorses Lauter’s position. There is a considerable conceptual, moral, and theological difference between whether we are permitted to hope that all people will be saved or, alternatively, we must hope that hell is empty.
The Church, Balthasar is keen to note, has never claimed to know if any humans are in hell or, relatedly, that any specific humans are in hell, and this leaves open the possibility of universal salvation, a prospect for which, at the very least, we are permitted to hope as faithful Catholics. This “hopeful universalism,” as Balthasar’s position has come to be known, has several attractive features. First and most obviously, hopeful universalism does not come down on one side or another with respect to the infernalist and universalist biblical texts. Rather, it interprets both sets of texts as indicative of two possible outcomes—that either all will be saved or only some will be saved. More to the point, hopeful universalism concedes, in view of both sets of texts, that permanent alienation from God is always a possibility for each and every one of us, and hence captures the fact that we live “under judgment” and must choose whether to accept the divine gift of grace.
Moreover, hopeful universalism reflects the sentiment, held by saints no less than Teresa of Avila and Catherine of Siena, that we should want hell to be empty. Catherine’s confessor, Raymond of Capua, informs us in his Life of Saint Catherine, that she told him about a mystical vision in which she spoke to Christ: “How could I ever reconcile myself, Lord, to the prospect that a single one of those whom, like me, you have created in your image and likeness should become lost and slip from your hands? No, in absolutely no case do I want to see a single one of my brethren meet with ruin.” To this, Christ responds: “Love cannot be contained in hell; it would totally annihilate hell; one could more easily do away with hell than allow love to reside in it” (172). Christ’s mystical revelation to Catherine echoes the premise at the heart of hopeful universalism, succinctly put by Edith Stein, whom Balthasar also favorably cites: “Faith in the unboundedness of divine love and grace . . . justifies hope for the universality of redemption, although, through the possibility of resistance to grace that remains open in principle, the possibility of eternal damnation also persists” (176).
For those who, like David Bentley Hart, insist that pure universalism (i.e., universalism that entirely dispenses with the idea of an eternal hell) is a sine qua non without which Christianity cannot be a coherent and credible system of belief, Balthasar’s hopeful universalism will obviously not suffice. Indeed, for Hart, Balthasar shrinks in the face of Catholic tradition and ultimately offers a milquetoast position that unjustifiably preserves precisely those aspects of the doctrine of hell that render Christianity incoherent and morally obtuse. Roman Catholics, however, cannot endorse Hart’s brand of universalism within the authoritative bounds of their faith. For them (us), Balthasar offers the most credible articulation of the universalist hope that all will be saved.
The Roman Catholic Church teaches that universalism, the idea that we know that all people will be saved, is a heresy. This is because, in view of the infernalist texts scattered across the New Testament, we simply cannot conclude with certainty that all people will be saved; hell must be a real option for each and every person. As Balthasar characterizes this notion that permanent alienation from God is always a possibility, “man [sic.] is under judgment and must choose” (6). That is, the infernalist texts indicate that our lives are permeated with moments of moral decision in the eyes of God and that we think and act not only in relation to ourselves and one another, but also in relation to God, our creator. We can live in accordance with the will of God and what pleases God, or we can live in rejection of and apart from God. Consequently, as Josef Pieper, the famous neo-Thomist Catholic philosopher would put it, the universalist position is presumptuous: it claims to know what it cannot know and so eradicates the need for supernatural hope, a core element in the Christian life. What then to do with the texts that imply universal salvation, which several eminent Church Fathers—like Origen, Gregory of Nyssa, Clement of Alexandria, Maximus the Confessor, and Didymus the Blind, all of whom did defend universalism, or some notion very close to it—insist we must take seriously? Does our consent to the authority of Church doctrine mean we must simply overlook these texts, or interpret them differently?
For Balthasar, the clear answer to this latter question is no. In view of what God has accomplished in Christ by the power of the cross and resurrection, and in view of the second, universalist set of texts mentioned earlier, Balthasar insists that we may reasonably hope that all people will be saved. Indeed, Balthasar even alludes to the “obligation to hope [for salvation] for all” (169-177). He favorably cites Hermann-Josef Lauter, who writes: “Will it really be all men who allow themselves to be reconciled [to God]? No theology or prophecy can answer this question. But love hopes all things (1 Cor. 13:7). It cannot do otherwise than to hope for the reconciliation of all men in Christ. Such unlimited hope is, from the Christian standpoint, not only permitted but commanded” (171). It is not clear to me whether Balthasar whole-heartedly endorses Lauter’s position. There is a considerable conceptual, moral, and theological difference between whether we are permitted to hope that all people will be saved or, alternatively, we must hope that hell is empty.
The Church, Balthasar is keen to note, has never claimed to know if any humans are in hell or, relatedly, that any specific humans are in hell, and this leaves open the possibility of universal salvation, a prospect for which, at the very least, we are permitted to hope as faithful Catholics. This “hopeful universalism,” as Balthasar’s position has come to be known, has several attractive features. First and most obviously, hopeful universalism does not come down on one side or another with respect to the infernalist and universalist biblical texts. Rather, it interprets both sets of texts as indicative of two possible outcomes—that either all will be saved or only some will be saved. More to the point, hopeful universalism concedes, in view of both sets of texts, that permanent alienation from God is always a possibility for each and every one of us, and hence captures the fact that we live “under judgment” and must choose whether to accept the divine gift of grace.
Moreover, hopeful universalism reflects the sentiment, held by saints no less than Teresa of Avila and Catherine of Siena, that we should want hell to be empty. Catherine’s confessor, Raymond of Capua, informs us in his Life of Saint Catherine, that she told him about a mystical vision in which she spoke to Christ: “How could I ever reconcile myself, Lord, to the prospect that a single one of those whom, like me, you have created in your image and likeness should become lost and slip from your hands? No, in absolutely no case do I want to see a single one of my brethren meet with ruin.” To this, Christ responds: “Love cannot be contained in hell; it would totally annihilate hell; one could more easily do away with hell than allow love to reside in it” (172). Christ’s mystical revelation to Catherine echoes the premise at the heart of hopeful universalism, succinctly put by Edith Stein, whom Balthasar also favorably cites: “Faith in the unboundedness of divine love and grace . . . justifies hope for the universality of redemption, although, through the possibility of resistance to grace that remains open in principle, the possibility of eternal damnation also persists” (176).
For those who, like David Bentley Hart, insist that pure universalism (i.e., universalism that entirely dispenses with the idea of an eternal hell) is a sine qua non without which Christianity cannot be a coherent and credible system of belief, Balthasar’s hopeful universalism will obviously not suffice. Indeed, for Hart, Balthasar shrinks in the face of Catholic tradition and ultimately offers a milquetoast position that unjustifiably preserves precisely those aspects of the doctrine of hell that render Christianity incoherent and morally obtuse. Roman Catholics, however, cannot endorse Hart’s brand of universalism within the authoritative bounds of their faith. For them (us), Balthasar offers the most credible articulation of the universalist hope that all will be saved.
October 25, 2013
This is a very well written, insightful, and thought-provoking essay, but it contains several deep-rooted errors. Those who are new to or have less knowledge of the Catholic faith should be cautious about reading it.
July 16, 2016
Simply wonderful exposition of hope for universal redemption from a Catholic theologian.
August 13, 2024
What can I say about Von Balthasar? His writing is not for the faint of heart. His sentences are often eight lines long, his paragraphs are longer than his pages. He is deeply dense. I was struck that it (my first foray into modernist theology/philosophy) was difficult to read except in an environment in which I could concentrate. Although his chapters range in length from digestible and episodic, yet sophisticated, 4-5 page explorations of a question to 20 page treatises, he is more dense, in my view, than Kant. He discusses profound topics, but somehow is surprisingly thin with its thesis; the critics and defenders do not misrepresent Von Balthasar.
His thesis here, all his cards of which he lays out in Chapter 2, is not to argue that everyone goes to heaven, but that next to nobody goes to hell. His Biblical evidence for this, at first, seems worth considering, but, upon further examination, in my view, can mostly be dismissed. Indeed, much of Von Balthasar's argument is to toy around with the definition of hope so as to permit the expectation of near-universal salvation to mesh with an orthodox view that one can theoretically still be damned. Speaking generally, once the thesis is densely established in Chapter 2, the book is substantively thin thereafter, discussing considerations which are marginal to his famous, central theme.
He cuts deeply at Augustine's and Aquinas's ideas on the massa damnata, sympathetically so. He raises fair objections on the absured idea that those in heaven will find joy in the torments of the damned and belittles that those who take the view of the massa damnata are often assured of their own salvation.
Von Balthasar's 5th chapter, on self-judgement and one's own choice of condemnation, as well as Chapter 9, serve as timely counterbalances to those who would construe him as advocating for some strict form of universal salvation. Other subsequent chapters offer interesting discussions about different topics which only loosely relate to his thesis (Chapters 7 and especially 8, for instance). Chapter 10 strikes me as incoherent. Why speak philosophically about Satan when, at least in the 2020s, a cottage industry of exorcist literature is in vogue, one which offers to provide 'battlefield' accounts of the nature of demons? Theory can explore rightly or wrongly to any given extent, but the experience of exorcists is, perhaps, the closest thing to laboratory data that a theologian can obtain regarding the spiritual.
The Ignatius Press edition also includes Von Balthasar's Short Discourse on Hell, which adds some lovely new rhetoric (Ch. 2 & 7) and considerations but few new ideas, including an additional pithy rebuke toward Augustine and Aquinas (Ch. 4 & 5), as well as a fresh consideration of Romans 9:3-4 (Ch. 6). Additionally, an appendix discusses Origen's controversial concept of Apokatastasis, but I was either checked out of the book by then or it was above my pay grade.
So am I a quasi-universalist now? No. I remain agnostic on this question. I'd like for Von Balthasar to be right, that it is very hard for one to be sent to hell, but his scriptural case is not terribly convincing and I am not about to hedge my bets on his theory.
His thesis here, all his cards of which he lays out in Chapter 2, is not to argue that everyone goes to heaven, but that next to nobody goes to hell. His Biblical evidence for this, at first, seems worth considering, but, upon further examination, in my view, can mostly be dismissed. Indeed, much of Von Balthasar's argument is to toy around with the definition of hope so as to permit the expectation of near-universal salvation to mesh with an orthodox view that one can theoretically still be damned. Speaking generally, once the thesis is densely established in Chapter 2, the book is substantively thin thereafter, discussing considerations which are marginal to his famous, central theme.
He cuts deeply at Augustine's and Aquinas's ideas on the massa damnata, sympathetically so. He raises fair objections on the absured idea that those in heaven will find joy in the torments of the damned and belittles that those who take the view of the massa damnata are often assured of their own salvation.
Von Balthasar's 5th chapter, on self-judgement and one's own choice of condemnation, as well as Chapter 9, serve as timely counterbalances to those who would construe him as advocating for some strict form of universal salvation. Other subsequent chapters offer interesting discussions about different topics which only loosely relate to his thesis (Chapters 7 and especially 8, for instance). Chapter 10 strikes me as incoherent. Why speak philosophically about Satan when, at least in the 2020s, a cottage industry of exorcist literature is in vogue, one which offers to provide 'battlefield' accounts of the nature of demons? Theory can explore rightly or wrongly to any given extent, but the experience of exorcists is, perhaps, the closest thing to laboratory data that a theologian can obtain regarding the spiritual.
The Ignatius Press edition also includes Von Balthasar's Short Discourse on Hell, which adds some lovely new rhetoric (Ch. 2 & 7) and considerations but few new ideas, including an additional pithy rebuke toward Augustine and Aquinas (Ch. 4 & 5), as well as a fresh consideration of Romans 9:3-4 (Ch. 6). Additionally, an appendix discusses Origen's controversial concept of Apokatastasis, but I was either checked out of the book by then or it was above my pay grade.
So am I a quasi-universalist now? No. I remain agnostic on this question. I'd like for Von Balthasar to be right, that it is very hard for one to be sent to hell, but his scriptural case is not terribly convincing and I am not about to hedge my bets on his theory.
October 5, 2017
I’d certainly call this a book of two halves—and personally, I preferred part two.
The first part, *Dare We Hope*, is Von Balthasar’s exploration of the two stream of thought that Scripture and the Saints put before us about Universal Judgement and Universal Salvation. It’s a deep, though brief, survey and he obviously knows what he’s talking about; displaying a thorough knowledge of the musings and expositions of the Church Saints (which he focuses on more than the scriptures themselves).
However, I found this part really difficult to follow. With great pains I managed to (just about) follow his train of thought—and key paragraphs do help summarise along the way. But it was tough going. Maybe it’s my lack of knowledge this exposes, but I do feel this section could have been better written and explained.
The Second part, *A Short Discourse On Hell*, however, was a different case altogether. This section is Von Balthasar’s response to those who were alarmed/confused by the Hope of Redemption that was put forward in *Dare We Hope?*.
This section was written in a much more accessible style, in my opinion. And—probably because it was written to refute/clarify Von Balthasar’s position to his critics—it does a better job a putting the tension of Redemptive Hope across.
There’s no clear answers here though, regarding Hell or Salvation. But that is precisely the thrust of Von Balthasar’s insight. All we have is a tension between the possibility of Hell and Redemption. This tension must be lived in, accepted, and walked through with Hope; and not a self-inclined hope, but a Hope for others.
None of us have a perfect knowledge—a certainty—about the things regarding the final judgement. Scripture just presents us with the possibilities, but never any clear answers on “who”, or “how many”, or the “how long” regarding Hell. None of us have been given special access to seeing a definitive list of names. As Von Balthasar’ posits, using a variety of Saints, any clear knowledge in this regard would be dangerous to our own Spiritual Health, leading some to dangerous arrogance (for those who feel certain to be in), and our Love and Charity to others (leading is to exclude or demonise those we believe to be out).
All scripture says is that Jesus is both judge and saviour of all, and that all will be judged. And so we are called to Hope in the perfect judgement of Jesus’ all humanity, including ourselves, as we walk between the choices placed before us.
Overall; tough going, but gives much to ponder. And as a text (and author) that I see getting cited frequently in books on Eschatology, it was definitely worth the read.
—Tristan Sherwin, author of *Love: Expressed*
The first part, *Dare We Hope*, is Von Balthasar’s exploration of the two stream of thought that Scripture and the Saints put before us about Universal Judgement and Universal Salvation. It’s a deep, though brief, survey and he obviously knows what he’s talking about; displaying a thorough knowledge of the musings and expositions of the Church Saints (which he focuses on more than the scriptures themselves).
However, I found this part really difficult to follow. With great pains I managed to (just about) follow his train of thought—and key paragraphs do help summarise along the way. But it was tough going. Maybe it’s my lack of knowledge this exposes, but I do feel this section could have been better written and explained.
The Second part, *A Short Discourse On Hell*, however, was a different case altogether. This section is Von Balthasar’s response to those who were alarmed/confused by the Hope of Redemption that was put forward in *Dare We Hope?*.
This section was written in a much more accessible style, in my opinion. And—probably because it was written to refute/clarify Von Balthasar’s position to his critics—it does a better job a putting the tension of Redemptive Hope across.
There’s no clear answers here though, regarding Hell or Salvation. But that is precisely the thrust of Von Balthasar’s insight. All we have is a tension between the possibility of Hell and Redemption. This tension must be lived in, accepted, and walked through with Hope; and not a self-inclined hope, but a Hope for others.
None of us have a perfect knowledge—a certainty—about the things regarding the final judgement. Scripture just presents us with the possibilities, but never any clear answers on “who”, or “how many”, or the “how long” regarding Hell. None of us have been given special access to seeing a definitive list of names. As Von Balthasar’ posits, using a variety of Saints, any clear knowledge in this regard would be dangerous to our own Spiritual Health, leading some to dangerous arrogance (for those who feel certain to be in), and our Love and Charity to others (leading is to exclude or demonise those we believe to be out).
All scripture says is that Jesus is both judge and saviour of all, and that all will be judged. And so we are called to Hope in the perfect judgement of Jesus’ all humanity, including ourselves, as we walk between the choices placed before us.
Overall; tough going, but gives much to ponder. And as a text (and author) that I see getting cited frequently in books on Eschatology, it was definitely worth the read.
—Tristan Sherwin, author of *Love: Expressed*
July 19, 2024
A FAMED CATHOLIC THEOLOGIAN HOLDS OUT A "UNIVERSALIST" HOPE
Hans Urs von Balthasar (1905-1988) was a Swiss Catholic theologian and priest, who had been nominated by John Paul II to become a cardinal, but he died two days before his ordination. He has written many other books, such as 'Engagement with God: The Drama of Christian Discipleship,' 'Mysterium Paschale: The Mystery of Easter,' 'A Theology of History,' etc.
He points out, "in the New Testament, two series of statements run along side by side in such a way that a synthesis of both is neither permissible nor achievable: the first series speaks of being lost for all eternity; the second, of God's will, and ability, to save all men." (Pg. 29)
He asserts that we cannot say that God "created" eternal punishment; "no one but man can be blamed for its existence." (Pg. 53-54) He also notes that no one can be so sure of his own standing in grace that he cannot be mistaken about his own salvation. (Pg. 86)
He quotes Walter Kaspar, "Neither Holy Scripture nor the Church's Tradition of faith asserts with certainty of any man that he is actually in hell." (Pg. 164) He makes the suggestion that God does not condemn anyone, but "the man who irrevocably refuses love condemns himself." (Pg. 165)
After citing numerous biblical passages, he states, "I claim nothing more than this: that these statements give us a right to have hope for all men, which simultaneously implies that I see no need to take a step from the threats to the positing of a hell occupied by our brothers and sisters, through which our hopes would come to naught." (Pg. 187)
He concludes, "Karl Rahner is therefore right when he says: "We have... the DUTY TO HOPE for the salvation of all men and the principle of the real possibility of becoming eternally lost.' ... there should also be equal stress on encouragement to hopeful and trusting surrender to God's infinite mercy." (Pg. 212-213)
'
This book is a very significant---and surprising, from so eminent a Catholic theologian---addition to the literature supporting (or "leaning toward") universalism.
Hans Urs von Balthasar (1905-1988) was a Swiss Catholic theologian and priest, who had been nominated by John Paul II to become a cardinal, but he died two days before his ordination. He has written many other books, such as 'Engagement with God: The Drama of Christian Discipleship,' 'Mysterium Paschale: The Mystery of Easter,' 'A Theology of History,' etc.
He points out, "in the New Testament, two series of statements run along side by side in such a way that a synthesis of both is neither permissible nor achievable: the first series speaks of being lost for all eternity; the second, of God's will, and ability, to save all men." (Pg. 29)
He asserts that we cannot say that God "created" eternal punishment; "no one but man can be blamed for its existence." (Pg. 53-54) He also notes that no one can be so sure of his own standing in grace that he cannot be mistaken about his own salvation. (Pg. 86)
He quotes Walter Kaspar, "Neither Holy Scripture nor the Church's Tradition of faith asserts with certainty of any man that he is actually in hell." (Pg. 164) He makes the suggestion that God does not condemn anyone, but "the man who irrevocably refuses love condemns himself." (Pg. 165)
After citing numerous biblical passages, he states, "I claim nothing more than this: that these statements give us a right to have hope for all men, which simultaneously implies that I see no need to take a step from the threats to the positing of a hell occupied by our brothers and sisters, through which our hopes would come to naught." (Pg. 187)
He concludes, "Karl Rahner is therefore right when he says: "We have... the DUTY TO HOPE for the salvation of all men and the principle of the real possibility of becoming eternally lost.' ... there should also be equal stress on encouragement to hopeful and trusting surrender to God's infinite mercy." (Pg. 212-213)
'
This book is a very significant---and surprising, from so eminent a Catholic theologian---addition to the literature supporting (or "leaning toward") universalism.
March 14, 2018
I read this shortly after finishing Thomas Talbott's The Inescapable Love of God. Balthasar's book is considerably more difficult to read, and his breadth of theological thinking and reading is vast. More than that, the second edition is expanded by something like a hundred pages, in some of which he takes his critics to task for not reading carefully what he said in the first edition, and adds chapters that weren't in the original.
For all that, I'm not sure that he adds anything more to Talbott's book - for me. Balthasar, at least in translation, writes in a dense fashion, with lengthy sentences full of corners and by-paths. I'm sure his work is more strongly argued than Talbott's but in the end it's very hard work reading him.
Nevertheless, his book is a valuable addition to the subject, and for all my quibbles, I'm (probably) glad I read it...! In the end, of course, he can say with no more certainty than Talbott and many others, including a great number of the Church Fathers, that all will be saved, or that is no hell. Equally, we can say with no certainty that certain people are in Hell, or that we are necessarily amongst those who are saved without any further need to worry ourselves. God is the one in whom justice and mercy combine; he is the one who balances these out perfectly (something we're not good at doing).
One great thing about both these book is that they clear away the awfulness of the doctrines that say certain people are predestined to Hell (and equally, certain people are predestined to eternal life). If for nothing else, they're both worth reading.
For all that, I'm not sure that he adds anything more to Talbott's book - for me. Balthasar, at least in translation, writes in a dense fashion, with lengthy sentences full of corners and by-paths. I'm sure his work is more strongly argued than Talbott's but in the end it's very hard work reading him.
Nevertheless, his book is a valuable addition to the subject, and for all my quibbles, I'm (probably) glad I read it...! In the end, of course, he can say with no more certainty than Talbott and many others, including a great number of the Church Fathers, that all will be saved, or that is no hell. Equally, we can say with no certainty that certain people are in Hell, or that we are necessarily amongst those who are saved without any further need to worry ourselves. God is the one in whom justice and mercy combine; he is the one who balances these out perfectly (something we're not good at doing).
One great thing about both these book is that they clear away the awfulness of the doctrines that say certain people are predestined to Hell (and equally, certain people are predestined to eternal life). If for nothing else, they're both worth reading.
July 16, 2019
Much of this goes over my head by a considerable margin. But it is an extremely rigorous exploration of an extremely thorny theological problem, and part of its merit is that it reinforces how thorny the problem in fact is. (i.e. if you're not at all troubled by the idea of an eternal hell for the majority of humanity, you might not be doing a great job practicing Christian charity.)
All to the good. But I've got to say that "Erasing Hell" by Francis Chan is a significantly easier version of the problem that, to my mind, gets to the same theological place without all the history and polemic. Of course if you're interested in the history, this is the book to go to, but if a practical theological answer is all you want, well, you know. (At one point, Chan says something like, "Some people call themselves 'Hopeful Universalists.' Now if this just means that they hope that all people will be saved, sure, we all hope that way." Which is interestingly not what ol' H.U.v.B's opponents say. Also interesting: Chan's book is in response to Rob Bell, who picked up and ran with the 'hope' that von Balthasar refuses to allow to be a 'certainty.')
There are other good things. Consider the following: "Love itself is crisis: to the extent that it is truth, it contains justice within itself, which is why Jesus, in his disputations with those lacking in love, can just as well say that he (as love) 'judges not' as that he (as truth) 'judges.'" Pretty good writing. Pretty energetic mental cardio.
All to the good. But I've got to say that "Erasing Hell" by Francis Chan is a significantly easier version of the problem that, to my mind, gets to the same theological place without all the history and polemic. Of course if you're interested in the history, this is the book to go to, but if a practical theological answer is all you want, well, you know. (At one point, Chan says something like, "Some people call themselves 'Hopeful Universalists.' Now if this just means that they hope that all people will be saved, sure, we all hope that way." Which is interestingly not what ol' H.U.v.B's opponents say. Also interesting: Chan's book is in response to Rob Bell, who picked up and ran with the 'hope' that von Balthasar refuses to allow to be a 'certainty.')
There are other good things. Consider the following: "Love itself is crisis: to the extent that it is truth, it contains justice within itself, which is why Jesus, in his disputations with those lacking in love, can just as well say that he (as love) 'judges not' as that he (as truth) 'judges.'" Pretty good writing. Pretty energetic mental cardio.
November 10, 2023
Dare We Hope is like a careful attempt to back up the claim "hey, what if... maybe... we can hope that God saves all... and maybe pray likewise?" Sure, you're probably thinking, what's the harm if we pray for all [individuals] to be saved? If you believe that, then the book will be pretty mild.
You're also probably wondering why I put brackets around the word individuals. It's because Balthasar's detractors literally make the distinction between praying for "all" vs. "all individuals," saying that we should pray for "all" but not "all individuals." So the book is kind of Balthasar's response to Catholics who demand, with 100% certainty, that some will be damned. Balthasar's argument is basically, "well, maybe don't make it 100%?" and traces the development of those who are damn certain that some will be damned certainly by blaming Augustine (of course). Then he blames Origen for those who are dogmatic that all will be saved. He also cites Scriptural references that support both sides and mystics who see God and are certain that he cannot damn THAT many people. His position lies in the middle, sort of like a "well, we don't know the final destination for anyone. We should assume that we ourselves deserve judgment but should hope that all may be saved." Overall, it's not a bad argument but maybe not as controversial as I expected it to be.
You're also probably wondering why I put brackets around the word individuals. It's because Balthasar's detractors literally make the distinction between praying for "all" vs. "all individuals," saying that we should pray for "all" but not "all individuals." So the book is kind of Balthasar's response to Catholics who demand, with 100% certainty, that some will be damned. Balthasar's argument is basically, "well, maybe don't make it 100%?" and traces the development of those who are damn certain that some will be damned certainly by blaming Augustine (of course). Then he blames Origen for those who are dogmatic that all will be saved. He also cites Scriptural references that support both sides and mystics who see God and are certain that he cannot damn THAT many people. His position lies in the middle, sort of like a "well, we don't know the final destination for anyone. We should assume that we ourselves deserve judgment but should hope that all may be saved." Overall, it's not a bad argument but maybe not as controversial as I expected it to be.
June 6, 2024
Quite good actually! Fairly dense and academic, but I appreciate the wide variety of sources, quotes, and footnoes that are present. Tbh, this book should be a fairly uncontroversial - the author makes it clear that he isn't advocating for a certainty of knowledge of universalism, but rather a justified hope in the infinite Love of God, who desires all men to be saved.
This book challenged my view of others and understanding of humanity, leading me to view everyone, both past and present, as cherished image-bearers of God. It is imprudent to think that any one person is going to 'Hell'. Definitely practical impact here. The book also continuously challenged my perception of God. How can one put a limit on the infinite Love of God?
"One should, however, make a really unreserved decision to accept every man in his total worth and to seek one’s own final joy in this affirmation of others. If one sees things in this way, then “heaven for all” does not mean something like an inducement to laziness in our ethical commitment but rather the heaviest demand upon all of us that one can imagine: the decision for a patience that absolutely never gives up but is prepared to wait infinitely long for the other."
This book challenged my view of others and understanding of humanity, leading me to view everyone, both past and present, as cherished image-bearers of God. It is imprudent to think that any one person is going to 'Hell'. Definitely practical impact here. The book also continuously challenged my perception of God. How can one put a limit on the infinite Love of God?
"One should, however, make a really unreserved decision to accept every man in his total worth and to seek one’s own final joy in this affirmation of others. If one sees things in this way, then “heaven for all” does not mean something like an inducement to laziness in our ethical commitment but rather the heaviest demand upon all of us that one can imagine: the decision for a patience that absolutely never gives up but is prepared to wait infinitely long for the other."
July 16, 2021
Read this for a book club. We had the discussion about the first part last week, and I just finished it up for part 2 now. We had a great discussion, especially because the book is not really about everyone necessarily going to heaven. In fact, we cannot know that. Instead, it provides a very powerful way to examine one's own beliefs. Is there anyone you think should not or will not end up in heaven? Are you on that list? That kind of differential thinking can truly lead to a loss of love/charity/agape. While there were things in this book that frustrated me, it still was good to read. It really felt like von Balthasar was just pulling together a lot of material from various places and looking at things in a way I would not have looked at them. Because my one friend makes me think about "Universalism" so much, I don't think this was anything extraordinary, but it was definitely better than the fire breathing of David Bentley Heart. If you can understand what he is saying, which is not always easy, this would be a fine read. But, please don't misinterpret it.
March 20, 2019
This is a dense, potent, and ultimately inconclusive study of Christian Universalism from a Catholic standpoint. Tapping deep into the tradition which contains the works of Augustine, Origen, Gregory of Nyssa, and Thomas Aquinas, Balthasar advocates for a hopeful universalism; it is possible, and even obligatory, to hope for the salvation of all people, but it is off limits (espcially in a Catholic context) to assert that all people definitely will be saved. An important insight has to do with the Catholic Church's refusal to say for sure that any particular person is damned, as contrasted with its happy naming of many saints who have certainly been saved. There are also helpful reflections on the hellish experiences of the mystics, ranging from Julian of Norwich to Therese of Lisieux. This is essential reading for this topic.
April 3, 2024
A subtle distinction, ardent hope vs certitude, is the means by which von Balthasar avoids the Apokatastasis Panton that has been condemned by Christianity, even though it appears (with some debate about meaning/translation) in a quotation of Paul in Acts 3.
Balthasar is so knowledgeable and well read that one feels comfort in believing he has a satisfactorily broad comprehension of the topic, and he is so reassuring in his perspective that we can indeed hope that everyone might be saved and he’ll might be empty.
My heart tells me his perspective is on target and thus my reason chooses to follow, trusting that Gods mercy ultimately wins out against his judgement and that our love of our fellow humans might reach fulfillment when ALL of us are gathered together in the joy of heaven.
Balthasar is so knowledgeable and well read that one feels comfort in believing he has a satisfactorily broad comprehension of the topic, and he is so reassuring in his perspective that we can indeed hope that everyone might be saved and he’ll might be empty.
My heart tells me his perspective is on target and thus my reason chooses to follow, trusting that Gods mercy ultimately wins out against his judgement and that our love of our fellow humans might reach fulfillment when ALL of us are gathered together in the joy of heaven.
January 26, 2022
Balthazar opens with the idea that we're under God's judgement, in no position to say with any certainty how he will judge ourselves or others. He makes the case that scripture is ambiguous on the subject, and we're prone to misinterpretation, then goes on to say that one of the most influential interpretations, that of St. Augustine, is more certain about the damnation of many men than scripture warrants or our place under judgement allows. Duly noting how profoundly troubling the thought of even one person being eternally damned is, the author points to other saints who took more hopeful stances about salvation. In keeping with his premise, he concludes without presuming to say how God will or must judge, but with the idea that God's grace far surpasses our sin.
May 11, 2023
The author struggles with the evidence for and against the hope that all may be saved in the end. He cites (too much to my liking) fellow contemporary theologians. He also cites pertinent passages of Holy Scriptures as well as Church Fathers, for and against. His struggle is refreshing, in comparison with the writings of universalists who seem overly intent on dismissing with arguments all arguments against their contention that will be saved. I too have had to struggle against this overwhelmingly desire that all be saved, for the sake of my sense of the need to make a real attempt to be objective in regard to this hope.
November 27, 2021
At once ancient, and incredibly new, this isnt speculative theology. This is the core teaching of the Catholic Church, in her Gospel and Catechism.
Cardinal von Balthasar has a. core contention is that St. Augustine's interpretation of the hellbound serves a purpose, but has cast a shadow across theology ever since that doesn't fully embrace all the meaning in Sacred Scripture.
We can't count on all men's salvation, like the deft syllogisms of David Bentley Hart. We ought to hope for it. God's radical love and track record is such that we must hope for this.
I grappled with the implications of the theory; does it undermine the need to evangelize, or even try to achieve perfection?
Cardinal von Balthasar is rigorous on this point; the Great Commission is not dissolved. Its meaning is refreshed and renewed, and restored to the incarnation of the Kingdom in every time and place, the binding of wounds, the freedom from sin, and the swiftest lovegift from Christ to human living.
He explores the idea that Christ's journey to hell was more than a rescue mission. In becoming sin, Christ not only became an atheist, but somehow suffered Hell itself. He endured not just the loss of Faith, but the loss of God as well. In Him, they're probably the same thing.
Why would He do that? If man remained damned forever, why endure such a state? This question, not the conversion of the damned, because thats a contradiction in terms, but the conversion of the damnable, is at stake.
If Christ did endure the pains of Hell, then I can understand why the Agony in the Garden was so shattering. He wasn't just bleeding through his pores because of a few hours of pain and crucifixion. As the GodMan, His being was rejecting plumbing the ultimate depths of distance from God.
Many heavyweights of our Faith have leaned in this direction; Fr. Balthazar lists spiritual fathers and saints through the centuries, not to mention two recent popes.
What stunned me was the stories of the saints who suffered hellfire. Fr. von Balthazar points out that these saints entered so deeply into the love of God, that they were willing-even asked-to be damned to Hell if it meant that other souls could be saved. They weren't willing the evil, but to endure the greatest possible agony, even forever, if it meant that the hellbound could be restored in God.
Apart from more recent mystics, Fr. von Balthasar makes fresh sense of Moses' request for a similar fate - which shook me. I didn't realize his depth of love was so great, and on reflection, realize it must have been. Perhaps it was a nod to that that kept him from the Holy Land.
If some of these saints were willing to endure Hell for the sake of others, how is it conceivable that they could go where Christ did not? That they could experience what He did not? That they could love other men to such a folly that they would ask for eternal separation from God to appease His justice on others?
To imagine that they could love more than Christ is ridiculous. To my mind, these mystic experiences form a bedrock against which all of this falls into line. If they were willing, how much more so would Christ be willing?
If Christ was therefore willing, why would He do something like that, unless there was a benefit for souls to be gained? And as He said to a mystic, His love is so deep and clever that He will follow a soul even unto the narrowest of places, where none but He can go.
I have long thought that Heaven will be fuller than we ever anticipated. I don't doubt that there may be human souls who are damnable, apart from myself, but I have vast confidence in the clever, crafty, and fantastically radical love of God to desire to save all men.
Even one child lost to a parent is an infinity of too many. One sheep lost from the flock causes an anguish that cannot be endured by the shepherd, who abandons the 99 that he might save the lost.
So these two thoughts give me excitement and hope; the craftiness of God to navigate and suspend his own rules out of an undivided justice-mercy. And what I hope is a humility to take Scripture on its own merits, and take God at his word, when He proclaims His unbounded love for all men in all times and places.
In reading this, I've found that I am invited to have more patience with other people, and greater readiness to smile, because there's a very real chance that we'll all meet up again.
There remain very real questions that Fr. von Balthasar hasn't, and obviously can't, answer; like why promise Hell if no one reasonably ends up there. We are not given to know this answer. Unlike universalists, we are not given a palm reading of human fate. And unlike infernalists, we are not assured that many are lost, only that many are in danger of the state.
As Fr. von Balthazar points out, God promised damnation to Nineveh, but their weak, best shot at a repentance stayed His hand. Who knows what happens in the final moments of even the worst sinner? They may need plenty of time in Purgatory, but it makes much more sense to me that it takes a particularly radical degree of evil to merit Hell for eternity. Even after a period of punishment from which Christ may save us.
And most of us are such a weird patchwork of love and weakness, under so many influences and traits and pressures, it makes more sense to side with the Church and believe in God's mercy, and live in his justice. Both are the same thing.
Yes, we ought to hope. Because that's not a novelty, but the Catholic message.
Cardinal von Balthasar has a. core contention is that St. Augustine's interpretation of the hellbound serves a purpose, but has cast a shadow across theology ever since that doesn't fully embrace all the meaning in Sacred Scripture.
We can't count on all men's salvation, like the deft syllogisms of David Bentley Hart. We ought to hope for it. God's radical love and track record is such that we must hope for this.
I grappled with the implications of the theory; does it undermine the need to evangelize, or even try to achieve perfection?
Cardinal von Balthasar is rigorous on this point; the Great Commission is not dissolved. Its meaning is refreshed and renewed, and restored to the incarnation of the Kingdom in every time and place, the binding of wounds, the freedom from sin, and the swiftest lovegift from Christ to human living.
He explores the idea that Christ's journey to hell was more than a rescue mission. In becoming sin, Christ not only became an atheist, but somehow suffered Hell itself. He endured not just the loss of Faith, but the loss of God as well. In Him, they're probably the same thing.
Why would He do that? If man remained damned forever, why endure such a state? This question, not the conversion of the damned, because thats a contradiction in terms, but the conversion of the damnable, is at stake.
If Christ did endure the pains of Hell, then I can understand why the Agony in the Garden was so shattering. He wasn't just bleeding through his pores because of a few hours of pain and crucifixion. As the GodMan, His being was rejecting plumbing the ultimate depths of distance from God.
Many heavyweights of our Faith have leaned in this direction; Fr. Balthazar lists spiritual fathers and saints through the centuries, not to mention two recent popes.
What stunned me was the stories of the saints who suffered hellfire. Fr. von Balthazar points out that these saints entered so deeply into the love of God, that they were willing-even asked-to be damned to Hell if it meant that other souls could be saved. They weren't willing the evil, but to endure the greatest possible agony, even forever, if it meant that the hellbound could be restored in God.
Apart from more recent mystics, Fr. von Balthasar makes fresh sense of Moses' request for a similar fate - which shook me. I didn't realize his depth of love was so great, and on reflection, realize it must have been. Perhaps it was a nod to that that kept him from the Holy Land.
If some of these saints were willing to endure Hell for the sake of others, how is it conceivable that they could go where Christ did not? That they could experience what He did not? That they could love other men to such a folly that they would ask for eternal separation from God to appease His justice on others?
To imagine that they could love more than Christ is ridiculous. To my mind, these mystic experiences form a bedrock against which all of this falls into line. If they were willing, how much more so would Christ be willing?
If Christ was therefore willing, why would He do something like that, unless there was a benefit for souls to be gained? And as He said to a mystic, His love is so deep and clever that He will follow a soul even unto the narrowest of places, where none but He can go.
I have long thought that Heaven will be fuller than we ever anticipated. I don't doubt that there may be human souls who are damnable, apart from myself, but I have vast confidence in the clever, crafty, and fantastically radical love of God to desire to save all men.
Even one child lost to a parent is an infinity of too many. One sheep lost from the flock causes an anguish that cannot be endured by the shepherd, who abandons the 99 that he might save the lost.
So these two thoughts give me excitement and hope; the craftiness of God to navigate and suspend his own rules out of an undivided justice-mercy. And what I hope is a humility to take Scripture on its own merits, and take God at his word, when He proclaims His unbounded love for all men in all times and places.
In reading this, I've found that I am invited to have more patience with other people, and greater readiness to smile, because there's a very real chance that we'll all meet up again.
There remain very real questions that Fr. von Balthasar hasn't, and obviously can't, answer; like why promise Hell if no one reasonably ends up there. We are not given to know this answer. Unlike universalists, we are not given a palm reading of human fate. And unlike infernalists, we are not assured that many are lost, only that many are in danger of the state.
As Fr. von Balthazar points out, God promised damnation to Nineveh, but their weak, best shot at a repentance stayed His hand. Who knows what happens in the final moments of even the worst sinner? They may need plenty of time in Purgatory, but it makes much more sense to me that it takes a particularly radical degree of evil to merit Hell for eternity. Even after a period of punishment from which Christ may save us.
And most of us are such a weird patchwork of love and weakness, under so many influences and traits and pressures, it makes more sense to side with the Church and believe in God's mercy, and live in his justice. Both are the same thing.
Yes, we ought to hope. Because that's not a novelty, but the Catholic message.
January 5, 2019
Lucid and even treatment of a hard topic. I disagree some with Balthasar's handling of apokatastasis-- at least, I don't think he tells the whole story. But this is the best book I've read on the Christian idea of "hell," its status as a Scriptural warning, and the Gospel's final universal relevance.
July 8, 2019
The petty thoughts of a small mind. All around Urs people are doing stuff. Inventing glues. Or new machines. Medicine. Vaccines. People are busy inventing the new world. But Urs' intellect is too weak to learn Chemistry or Physics. What can he do to get that attention? Well, he can broker a deal with his imaginary friend. He would tell you who and why is going to the magical cruise in the sky.
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