Why I Sure Hope Hell Exists (Just Not for the Reason You Think)

The Problem of Hell, the Persistence of Love, and the Meaning of Justice

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Growing up, the fear of hell was put right into me.

Not gently, either. It was preached, dramatized, and reinforced in every altar call and youth group skit. Hell was the great motivator. The reason to behave. The reason to believe. The reason to say the prayer just in case.

I can still remember sitting in those pews as a kid, heart pounding, wondering if I had really meant it the last time I asked Jesus into my heart. One wrong word. One bad thought. One unconfessed sin. And it was straight to the flames. That kind of fear stays with you. It gets under your skin and shapes how you see God, yourself, and everyone else.

For years I tried to believe in a loving God while secretly imagining Him as a cosmic warden keeping score and waiting for me to mess up. Eventually I started to wonder what kind of love depends on fear to survive.

But here’s my problem with hell.

If you were God, you might feel okay about sending someone there if they had committed certain atrocities that you deem unforgivable. Hitler, for example. That makes some sense to us. We want justice. We want evil to have…