Quotes from Thomas Talbott

if you reject universalism, then you must also reject at least one of these assumptions; that is, you must either deny that God wills (or sincerely desires) the redemption of all sinners or deny that he will in fact satisfy his own will or desire in this matter.

To say that God's goodness may be different in kind from man's goodness, what is it but saying, with a slight change of phraseology, that God may possibly not be good?" —John Stuart Mill

One cannot believe that God has divided humanity into the elect, whom he loves, and the non-elect, whom he despises and believe that God is nonetheless worthy of worship and, at the same time, love one's neighbor as oneself.

if we suppose that God, being supremely powerful, supremely wise, and supremely loving, can achieve, and will settle for nothing less than, perfect justice, then we must also suppose that he will settle for nothing less than a full atonement for sin—something that will actually make up for, or cancel out, sin; and as we have seen, punishment (in and of itself) has no power to do that.

That God's grace is utterly irresistible over the long run now seems to me the best interpretation of Pauline theology, as a majority of theologians in the West have always insisted.

So for Calvin, even as for Augustine, God does not really will that all be saved,

Not every idea to which some persecutor appeals is, of course, automatically suspect. But when a religious doctrine appears consistently (and over a long period of time) to have destructive effects in the lives of those who accept it, then we have a prima facie reason, surely, to question its soundness. For as Jesus said, "A sound tree cannot [consistently and over a long period of time] bear evil fruit.

Whereas the early church had sought to achieve unity through positive confessions of faith ("I believe in God the Father Almighty"), the imperial church sought to achieve it through the condemnation of error ("Let them be anathema") and the persecution of those thought to be in error.

The difference between the two kinds of death, in other words, is essentially a difference of perspective. From the perspective of those already crucified in Christ, the destruction of the false self is clearly a good thing; it is liberation or salvation itself. But from the perspective of those who continue to cling to the false self, its destruction will be a fearsome thing; it will seem like the very destruction of themselves.

For one of these responsibilities is to promote the welfare, including the spiritual welfare, of all created persons; God could no more choose to create persons without accepting that responsibility than human parents can choose to raise children without acquiring an obligation to promote their welfare.

But when a religious doctrine appears consistently (and over a long period of time) to have destructive effects in the lives of those who accept it, then we have a prima facie reason, surely, to question its soundness.

For nothing works greater mischief in theology, I am persuaded, than a simple failure of the imagination, the inability to put things together in imaginative ways.

In his commentary on 1 John, however, Calvin saw more clearly than Packer did exactly where the issue must be joined. The issue is not, as Packer caricatured it, whether the proposition God is love expresses the complete truth about God. The issue is whether it expresses a truth about the very nature or essence of God—whether, in other words, it ascribes (what a philosopher would call) an essential property to the very being of God.

Because punishment alone does nothing to make up for, or to cancel out the bad effects of, any crime, it seems intrinsically fitting only within a context in which real justice seems impossible to achieve; that is, only within a context in which we have to settle, or at least think we do, for the best possible alternative: a kind of partial, or even contrived, justice.

No matter how many eons it takes, he will not rest until all of creation, including Satan, is reconciled to him, until there is no creature who cannot return his love with a joyful response of love." —Madeleine L'Engle

The Pauline idea of inclusive election—the idea that the elect are chosen instruments through whom God's mercy will eventually reach those who have stumbled—sets Paul squarely against a temptation as old as religion itself: the temptation to distinguish between the favored few—to which, of course, we belong—and everyone else.

The only victory love can enjoy is the day when its offer of love is answered by the return of love. The only possible final triumph is a universe loved by God and in love with God" William Barclay

Many religious doctrines serve, among other things, a sociological function, and over the centuries the traditional understanding of hell has served one function especially well: it has enabled religious and political leaders to cultivate fear and to employ fear as a means of social control.

Had it not been for an obsessive fear of heresy, grounded in the traditional understanding of hell, most of the atrocities committed in the name of the Christian religion would never have occurred.

Even the Augustinians, I would note, seem prepared to acknowledge this much: because God has forgiven us and has commanded us to forgive others, we have an obligation to forgive; we have no right, that is, not to forgive. But why , I would ask of them, has God commanded us to forgive others? Is it not precisely because, given the Christian view of the world, forgiveness is the just and proper response to sin? Is it not because the sinner, who yet retains the image of God, deserves forgiveness?

As the Augustinians see it, God opposes sin enough to punish it, but not enough to destroy it altogether; instead of destroying sin altogether, he merely confines it to a specially prepared region of his creation, a region known as hell, where he keeps it alive for an eternity. According to our alternative picture, however, God forgives sin for this very reason: in no other way could he oppose it with his entire being.

For so long as a single will remains in a state of rebellion against Christ, so long as a single person is able to cling to his or her hatred of God, at least one power in the universe—the power of that person's will—is not yet in subjection to Christ.

According to Paul, therefore, God is always and everywhere merciful, but we sometimes experience his mercy (or purifying love) as severity, judgment, punishment. When we live a life of obedience, we experience it as kindness; when we live a life of disobedience, we experience it as severity (see 11:22). Paul himself called this a mystery (11:25) and admitted that God's ways are, in just this respect, "inscrutable" and "unsearchable" (11:33),