The following text is from a talk I delivered on April 11, 2024, for a Catholic-Orthodox dialogue in Duluth, MN, known as ‘Theology Uncapped.’ The discussion, entitled ‘Last Things,’ focused on the concepts of death, judgment, heaven, and hell in both our traditions. This talk marked the third in a series of three conversations. You can read my first talk here, and my second talk here.
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Tonight’s topic is entitled “Last Things: Death, Judgment, Heaven, and Hell.”
I want to start off by saying that while Orthodox Christians have something to say about all those topics, we aren’t used to grouping them in such a systematic way.
We do think about eschatology (last things), but the subcategories, if left up to us, would probably be much different—probably because the framework from which we approach scripture, theology, and questions is much different. To understand what I mean, let’s dig in and look at each one, one-by-one.
Death
It doesn’t strike me as odd that one would start with death, but it does strike me as odd that one would add emphasis to death by naming a category after it. After all, in Orthodox theology, salvation is brought about through death’s destruction.
As a summary of what Orthodox Christians believe about salvation, let me recite our Paschal hymn, perhaps the Church’s hymn par excellence:
“Christ is risen from the dead, by death trampling down upon death, and to those in the tombs He has granted life.”
Thus, I would have named this section of “Last Things,” “Resurrection.”
We do believe that at the time of death, the soul is separated from the body. What this means exactly isn’t well defined within Orthodox theology, though various Church Fathers have different ideas. What’s important is that the soul goes to be with Christ.
I think most of us stop here. We imagine that this sort of disembodied existence is “heaven” and this is our eternal existence—whatever this might mean or look like.
However, the surprise is that this is not the Christian hope. Instead, our hope is that Christ will return again and all things will be transfigured. This includes a general resurrection of all the dead (See. N.T. Wright’s Surprised by Hope for more information). This is when our souls will be reunited with our bodies. (By the way, this is why Orthodox Christians don’t cremate our bodies for that would be a purposeful destruction of that which we believe we will be reunited.)
What’s the nature of these resurrected bodies? Well, we can turn to the stories of Christ’s post-resurrection appearances in the gospels as an example.
There, we see that he eats, appears in locked rooms, can be recognized through the wounds he received in life, and yet, at the same time, be unrecognizable outside the opening of scripture and the breaking of bread (that last bit sounds a lot like the Divine Liturgy!).
We can also turn to the story of Christ’s Transfiguration during his earthly life.
The Transfiguration isn’t so much a story of Jesus being physically transformed before his disciples as it is a story of the disciples being allowed to see who Christ truly is: They’re allowed to see the divine light that constantly shines forth from Christ—despite their usual blindness caused by their sinfulness.
The idea is that all our resurrected bodies will also shine with this divine light. This is why saints wear halos in icons, and why many icons have a gold background. We’re seeing them as they are in Christ—divine light permeating from their resurrected and transfigured bodies.
Perhaps, another way to explain this is to think of a sword being put in the fire. When you do this, the sword takes on all the properties of the fire—it gets hot and starts to glow—without becoming fire. In the same way, when we are resurrected and transformed, we hope to take on all the properties of God without becoming God. In other words, we hope to be united to a resurrection like Christ’s and share in his eternal life.
Judgment
Next, let’s turn to judgment.
I think the idea is that if one talks about death, at least in the western Christian tradition, judgment immediately follows. I don’t mean to suggest that the idea of judgment is absent in Orthodox Christianity—it’s not—but it doesn’t always have an eschatological emphasis: That is, it’s not something that’s limited to the post-death experience.
For the Orthodox Christian, judgment is something that has already started and is happening in the here and now. As Christ says in Matthew 25,
“Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”
Thus, every decision we make in this life is judgment for or against us. We are reminded of this at every Divine Liturgy. The reason we stand during the reading of the Gospel is that one always stands when a judgment is read over them—this is still true in American courts.
The Gospel reading acts as a mirror before which we compare our lives to see if we measure up. If we don’t, the idea is that it should lead us to repentance (μετάνοια), which isn’t just a remorse of our sins, but an actual change of heart, a change of our way of being.
Hell
I’m going to break the traditional order and talk about hell before heaven. This one is confusing because the question is, “What do we mean by hell?”
Through the years, it’s come be a translation of several different terms: Hebrew’s Sheol or Greek’s Hades (simply the realm of the dead), Abraham’s bosom, Tartarus (where fallen angels and demonic offspring are imprisoned), and Gehenna (which was a real place that many rabbis saw as a place of purification or punishment). So, context is key here.
But, as with judgment, hell, in Orthodox theology, isn’t a place. Rather it’s the state of our soul, our disposition towards God. And, like judgment, we can be in hell now—we don’t have to wait until we die to experience it!
Think of a fire, and God is often described as an all consuming fire. A fire can be a “heavenly experience” if it’s warming your home on a cold winter’s night or cooking your food. However, if you stick your hand into the fire, it will be an experience of hell.
Our disposition towards God (or even other people) is the same. We can experience people’s presence as heavenly (as with a good friend or a spouse) or as an experience of hell (as with an enemy or, possibly, an ex-spouse). It’s up to us as to whether our experience now or our post-death experience of God will be heavenly or hellish.
The major question is whether this “hell” is an eternal experience or not. And, here Orthodox Christians are in passionate disagreement.
Emphasizing free will, some believe that God will not force anyone to love him. Thus, those who are opposed to God, for whatever reason, will experience eternal torment and exist in a “state of hell.” (For a fuller treatment of this perspective, see the chapter entitled “Posthumous Retribution” in Orthodox Christianity: Doctrine and Teaching of the Orthodox Church, Vol. II by Met. Hilarion Alfeyev).
However, there are others who believe in what’s called universal salvation (ἀποκατάστασις—literally, restoration or re-establishment). The argument basically says that because God is himself transcendent goodness, so he cannot be the source of injustice. And, because our free will has been corrupted by the fallenness of this world, it would be unjust for God to judge us on decisions we made while enslaved to this corruption. After all, how could God condemn us to eternal torment if it’s based on free will that truly isn’t free?
This view also points out that many people base their literal theology of the afterlife on figural images, and treat as figural, literal theology. What is meant by this?
Many images of the afterlife come from parables, such as the story of the Rich Man and Lazarus (Lk 16:19-31) or the Judgment of the Nations (Mt 25:31-46). But just as we wouldn’t turn to Aesop’s Fables for a treatise on animal life—rather we look to them for their moral teaching—some believe we shouldn’t rely on these teachings as literal images of the afterlife.
Yet, there is theology in scripture that seems to be intended as direct references to salvation, which supports a restoration of all things:
“And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will drag everyone to me.” (Jn 12:32)
“For God shut up everyone in obstinacy so that he might show mercy to everyone.” (Rm 11:32)
“For just as in Adam all die, so also in the Anointed all will be given life.” (1 Co 15:22)
“So that God was in the Anointed reconciling the cosmos to himself, not accounting their trespasses to them, and placing in us the word of reconciliation.” (2 Co 5:19)
“For the grace of God has appeared, giving salvation to all human beings” (Titus 2:11)
“And he is an atonement for our sins, and not only for ours, but for those of the whole cosmos.” (1 Jn 2:2)
If you want to learn more about this perspective, you can search the writings of Origen, St. Gregory of Nyssa, St. Isaac of Nineveh, or St. Maximus the Confessor. Modern theologians who lean towards this idea include Sergius Bulgakov, Nikolai Berdiaev, and, to some extent, Vladimir Lossky. (For a fuller treatment, however, see That All Shall Be Saved: Heaven, Hell, and Universal Salvation by David Bentley Hart.)
Heaven
Finally, we turn to heaven.
As I mentioned earlier, many of us have grown up believing that heaven is an eternal disembodied existence, out there, somewhere. Yet, this is not the promise of scripture, nor is it the teaching of the church.
Instead, along with resurrection, the future hope, the Good News of Jesus Christ, is that the entire cosmos is transfigured: There will be a new heaven and a new earth.
This is what St. Paul is getting in his letter to the Romans:
“… the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and will obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now.” (Rm 8:21-22)
Or, what St. John is talking about in his Apocalypse:
“Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.” (Rev 21:1-2)
Our hope is that we will live on this new earth, not heaven, with our resurrected bodies.
As N.T. Wright has pointed out, heaven is not a place for humans; it’s the control room from which God rules. However, in this transfigured cosmos, heaven will be united to earth—or, to put it another way, God will live among us in peace as was his intention from the beginning. (The original intention of the Garden of Eden.)
Now there’s a lot more that could be said, but I think ending with the idea of Jesus becoming the Lord and dwelling in our presence is a good stopping point.
Thank you.