So what exactly is a Son of Perdition?

We Mormons have a name for hell — it’s called Sons of Perdition. We’re pretty confident that Satan, Cain and Judas will be residents there, but after that things get a little hazy. Frankly, we’re not even sure what it’s going to be like, other than God and his minions have no plans to visit. 

We’re not even sure if there are “daughters of perdition” out there in outer darkness. That makes sense because no one wants a Son of Perdition to be able to place his hands on a daughter of any kind. To be honest, we have long been encouraged to not dwell too much on the Sons of Perdition. Instead, as the song goes, we should accentuate the positive, and focus on the greatness of the Celestial Kingdom and happiness.

But I can’t help myself. The case of evangelical pastor Chad Holtz losing his post because he no longer believed that a loving Heavenly Father would burn his children forever and ever reignited my interest in where Old Scratch resides. Frankly, the idea that God would subject his children to a punishment a million times more physically painful than Christ suffered — and let’s face it; lots of people were crucified; that’s no big deal, in the eternal sense — seems to be a doctrine that comes from old Satan himself. The doctrine of sinners in the hands of an angry God ought to go the way of infant damnation. I personally like C.S. Lewis’ definition of hell — detailed in the novella The Great Divorce — where “hell” is where we most feel comfortable in the afterlife.

But back to the Latter-day Saints and Perdition: Standard-Examiner blogger Ryan Jenkins once posted an excellent piece detailing Mormon beliefs on punishment and reward, and God being a deity of salvation, rather than damnation, but we still don’t get an idea of exactly who is ending up there. To be a “Son of Perdition” is to deny the Holy Ghost, but even that creates more questions, as does this quote from the Prophet Joseph Smith: 

"What must a man do to commit the unpardonable sin? He must receive the Holy Ghost, have the heavens opened unto him, and know God, and then sin against Him. After a man has sinned against the Holy Ghost, there is no repentance for him. He has got to say that the sun does not shine while he sees it; he has got to deny Jesus Christ when the heavens have been opened unto him, and to deny the plan of salvation with his eyes open to the truth of it; and from that time he begins to be an enemy." (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, sel. Joseph Fielding Smith [1976], 358).

If you read Doctrine and Covenants, Section 76, verses 32 through 38, the sufferings of the Sons of Perdition rival the sufferings of the damned in that bizarre Christian novel action “Left Behind” series. “Lakes of fire” and “better for them never to have been born” fill the verses. But the real puzzler — at least to me — is verse 35, which reads that to be a Son of Perdition involves “Having denied the Holy Spirit after having received it, and having denied the Only Begotten Son of the Father, having crucified him unto themselves and put him to an open shame."

That seems to indicate that a Son of Perdition needs to have accepted Christ as his savior, then rejected that belief and done everything to lead others away from Christ. That “Mormon” definition of qualifying for hell seems to jibe with many other Christian beliefs. But what about those evil people who never accepted Christ in the first place? Is a person who was born in the Amazon jungle 500 years ago and enjoyed raping and murdering for sport exempt from hell, or Sons of Perdition because he never had a chance to embrace Christ?

Or, as I’ve heard many LDS brothers and sisters tell me in my lifetime, is the Sons of Perdition reserved for LDS apostates who fight against “the church?” How do they end up in Perdition and that creep I saw profiled on Cable TV on the crime documentary channel escape the “Mormon hell?”

I’m tying myself into the0logical knots here trying to grasp understanding of a concept I admit I don’t understand. But I doubt that makes me unusual. I wonder if LDS Church leaders fully understand Perdition and what it is. And what about the Left Behind crowd or those nitwits who dismiss pastors for believing in a God who doesn’t torture?

Personally, I believe God will be a heck of a lot more merciful than most of us think, but I can’t say that definitively. 

Perhaps the more intriguing question is, why do so many followers of the peaceful Christ buy the allegorical descriptions of a burning, torture-dungeon hell? And what are the motives of those who preach of, advocate, or wish for such a hell or Perdition?

-- Originally published in 2011.

-- Doug Gibson

So, are there different degrees of hell, heaven?

I read a fascinating piece from a website, whatchristianswanttoknow.com, on hell. It was titled, “Are There Different Levels of Hell and Heaven.” (Read) Frankly, the part about hell interested me more. I think that’s human nature; most of us are fascinated with hell, a place we’re more or less certain we will avoid. As for heaven, yeah, we’re pretty sure we’ll make it there and are more willing to be surprised.

We Mormons have an interesting take on hell (more on that later). A traditional view from others of hell, to me, has always been this line that separates the heaven-bound from the hell-bound. Don’t step to the left or you’ll fall into that pit of eternal fire. Keep to the right and you can hang out in beautiful gardens with Jesus Christ. Another traditional view of hell has been that even the sweetest grandmother will roast for eternity unless she accepts Christ as her savior in a manner consistent with what’s preached in the “Left Behind” books.

And that’s why I found the whatchristianswanttoknow article interesting. It differed in that it surmised that there must be a variety of sufferings in hell, based on an individual’s knowledge of the Gospel. This scriptures from Luke chapter 12 is quoted: “… the master of that slave will come on a day when he does not expect him and at an hour that he does not know, and will cut him in pieces, and put him with the unfaithful. That slave who knew what his master wanted, but did not prepare himself or do what was wanted, will receive a severe beating.  But the one who did not know and did what deserved a beating will receive a light beating. From everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required; and from the one to whom much has been entrusted, even more will be demanded.”

The writer still separates residents of hell as “unsaved,” meaning the loathsome “sweet grandma in hell” theory holds in the post. That is because traditional Christianity refuses to assign any “good works” as credits toward ascension to heaven. However, the “good works” theory appears to factor into the levels of punishment theory. The author writes: “While the Bible doesn’t address this specifically, we do know that some who are more evil in this life will have to suffer more for their sins.  Hitler will suffer more than the person who lived a pretty good life. The consequences of sin for the unsaved will be attributed to the degree to which they suffer.”

The author adds, “He is saying that the more a person knows about Christ and still refuses to do anything about it, the more they will be held accountable.  More so than the native in the Amazon who has never heard the name of Christ. To hear the gospel time and time again and not respond to it will be to regret it forever.  The more light a person has been given the more they will be held accountable.”

Frankly, the article, which assures its readers that the biblical description of hell exists, is pretty muddled about hell. It’s hard to find any mercy or distinct sufferings in hell when your theology describes it as a “lake of fire” where your “worm” burns for eternity. But I give credit to the author for at least contemplating that there may be cooler areas in the “lake of fire.”

Back to Mormonism: Its version that fits closest to a traditional biblical version of hell, with some type of suffering, is probably “spirit prison,” in which persons are rewarded or punished after death while awaiting a final judgment. Catholicism sees a place called purgatory, in which persons deemed worthy of salvation suffer for a time prior to admittance to heaven. The Mormon spirit prison is also a place for individuals to be taught about Christ and eventually declare Him as savior.

The Mormon concept of hell might surprise persons who are critical of the church’s strict adherence to traditional concepts of morality. Hell, which is called “Perdition,” is reserved for persons who have received a full knowledge of the Gospel and willfully rejected it and worked to persecute those who follow Christ. (In the knowledge sense, it bears similarity to the whatchristianswanttoknow.com blog.)

Although with these subjects, lore sometimes mixes with doctrine, I have been taught that a virtual few will inhabit the Mormon hell of perdition. So we’re talking about the level of Cain, Judas, and maybe John C. Bennett, if I’m allowed a little Mormon levity. In any event, I don’t think the average Latter-day Saint who leaves the church and joins Ex-Mormons for Jesus, Buddha, Mohammed, etc. is a candidate for Perdition, although perhaps very conservative members might disagree with me.

The progressive aspect of Mormonism is that it sends everyone, sans Judas, Cain, …, to a reward. There’s the Celestial Kingdom (heaven) and it has several levels. Then there’s the Terrestrial Kingdom, which has several levels, and the Telestial Kingdom, which has several levels. (This is likely a myth but I used to hear in church that Joseph Smith once said that the glory of the Telestial Kingdom was so great that a person would be tempted to commit suicide to inherit it.)

In any event, Mormonism is pretty close to universal salvation. I hope I don’t get my hand slapped for this, but even your garden variety murderer will inherit some level within the Telestial Kingdom, as I understand it.

The kingdom degrees of glory doctrine is tied to the Mormon belief in the family being eternal. One part of Mormons’ belief is that an individual can visit persons who exist in lower degrees of glory. Besides the old joke that the Mormon bishop who cheated on his taxes gets a visit from his Celestial Kingdom wife once a week, this doctrine comforts faithful Mormon parents who are discouraged over their children who reject their beliefs. This belief assures them, that if they remain faithful, they will still be able to be with their children, visiting them in the afterlife.

-- Doug Gibson

-- Originally published at StandardBlogs

A Short Stay in Hell is an odd, compelling novella about an eternity of the mundane

I read — mostly during Sacrament meeting — the novella “A Short Stay in Hell,” (Strange Violin Editions) by BYU professor Steven L. Peck. It’s one of the oddest book I have read, but it’s also so compelling that you can’t stop reading. That’s a reflection of the human urge to hope that a likable character achieves an impossible task.

But I’m ahead of myself. The plot: Soren, a recently deceased 45-year-old Mormon husband and father who lived in Utah County, finds himself in an office, with other dismayed dead persons, with a sardonic demon with an office window that shows demons throwing the “damned” in a lake of fire. It all turns out to be a practical joke. There is no lake of hell. The demon explains that the true religion is Zoroastrianism, a faith and philosophy from Iran.

Zoroastrianism, the demon says, will provide a type of hell, or purgatory, with a test for the “damned” souls, if they pass it, they eventually get into heaven.

In an clever plot twist, Soren, who loved books, is sent to a “hell” derived from the famous short story, “The Library of Babel.” The hell contains finite, yet infinite to the human mind, rows and floors filled with books. Every book that could ever be written is located there, all the same words and pages, etc. Soren’s task is to find the book that contains his life story, stick it in a slot, and enter “heaven.” Given that Soren, our narrator, is speaking after spending infinite billions of years there, the task is more or less impossible.

Soren’s religion, and the expectations he had on earth (spiritual body, perfect body, exaltation, becoming a God) all create interesting dilemmas. Although his body is perfect, it bleeds, and it needs food and drink (there is a kiosk that provides any food or drink and rows of beds on the floors, and showers). This brings consternation to Soren as he realizes that his new God allows coffee and alcoholic drinks. Each floor is populated with the same type of persons, all white, all from the United States, all having died within a certain span of years. As Peck writes, Soren wonders: “I began to think how strange it seemed that I never met a single person of color. Not an Asian, not a Hispanic, not anything but a sea of white American Caucasians. Was there no diversity in Hell? What did this endless repetition of sameness and of uniformity in people and surroundings mean?”

Over time, Soren, realizing he’s unlikely to encounter his earthly “eternal companion,” begins a series of sexual relationships with various women. Some relationships are more intense than others, but they all end. Soren joins “universities” with others confined there, and great excitement ensues whenever one of the books, which mostly contain illegible babble, contain a few words of English.

There is free agency within the confines of Soren’s library hell. One can die, but is always resurrected the next day. One can throw one’s self into the chasm and hope to get to the bottom of the library, but as Soren learns, the bottom is both finite and basically infinite to the human mind. Religious fundamentalism can spring up, and there is a disturbing interlude in Soren’s existence in which a fanatic, appropriately named “Dire Dan,” creates a religion that blends the Inquisition with today’s Islamic terrorism. The fanatics kill and torture others to death, and then resume the beatings when the victims awake healthy the next day. During this terror, Rachel, a companion Soren spent 1,000-plus years with, leaps into the chasm to escape.

Much of Peck’s novella, at this point, focuses on Soren’s own descent into the chasm, and his impossible search for Rachel, and later another woman, Wand. The searches in this hell are fruitless. The area is bigger than can be comprehended. At the end of novella, Soren is a shell of what he was. His search for a meaningful, permanent lover is impossible. It doesn’t fit in with the dimensions there. It’s telling that there are no children in Zoroastrianism hell. That would create chaos that might stay permanent.

At the end, he feels virtually nothing, and admits to having periods when he’s senseless. Living in a finite infinity, even sexual affairs lasting 1 billion years, mean nothing to him. Soren has succumbed to “this endless repetition of sameness and of uniformity in people and surroundings.”

Readers are advised not to look for any deeper meanings to the Zoroastrianism hell created by author Peck. It’s just there, it somehow all matches together, and it just happens, over and over and over. By the end, with every question drained out of him, Soren concedes his sole emotion, his sole motivation, is the search to find his life history book.

My favorite passage in the novella is near the end, in which Soren, spinning through space in the chasm, with his latest love, Wand, and still retaining a hopeful attitude for escape together, is intimate with his woman. Peck writes: “We made love twice, before making our attempt. We had both fallen so often and so long that we were like creatures of the air, and it seemed as natural as in a bed. For a day I glimpsed what heaven must be like.”

I like this novella, and I’ll likely read it every year or so, searching for meaning in a hell of the mundane. A hell that contains an eternity of the mundane, whether it’s books that make no sense, stairs and floors that never end, mundane mumbling and threats from the other side of the chasm, mundane evil, or relationships that last so long that they become mundane. That’s a pretty effective hell Peck has constructed.

-- Doug Gibson

Originally published at StandardBlogs