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| Souls being rescued from damnation by a rosary |
| The Last Judgment, Michelangelo Buonarotti (detail) |
He deserves to rot in hell.
That is strong language, but not as uncommon as one might hope. Hell is the last of the Four Last Things, and it is the BAD one – the very worst thing there is, in fact. Fire and torment, deprivation and devouring, all of these things have described hell. Also permanent, endless, and inescapable. Eternal. It is so bad we are inclined not to think about it. If we do think about hell at all, to think that perhaps it may exist, we cushion the impact by asserting it is a possibility for a tiny few, and certainly it is not terribly likely for us. Maybe we can invoke hell as the destination for somebody who has really, truly, and totally displeased us: He deserves to rot in hell.
The Scriptures are redolent with insights into hell, and Our Lord Himself mentions unquenchable fire, and where the worm does not die, a place worthy of every painful effort to avoid. (cf: Mark 9) Maybe it is some sort of mental self-defense mechanism that we are most likely and best able to think about hell for other people. Jesus wants us to think about hell, at least some of the time, and not only for our enemies. So let’s split the difference, then, and think about hell for someone else – whom we love.
How about a friend? A dear friend, somebody who has been good to us, somebody who has depended on our help with important things. We look on that friend with eyes of love and desire our friend’s happiness. But we know our friend well enough to know that all is not right, all was not right when the great Game Over came calling and ended all choosing and doing, when death arrived. Picturing our fond friend suffering the consequences of some very bad actions or attitudes can make us desperate. We can dismiss hell and its criteria entirely, or by some mental dishonesty exempt our friend from merited hell. Then our Lord reminds us that hell is real and is not fungible. Do we listen?
Picture a son or daughter, grandma or grandpa, suffering the consequences of his or her own worst actions. Grandma or grandpa? No way! My son, my daughter? I would rather die myself than let that happen to one of them. Once we start thinking this way, our whole attitude begins to change. We cannot change or eliminate hell. We cannot change our friend or eliminate choices made and doings done. What remains? We remain, or, the rest of our days remain for us, and this is our field to achieve change.
The Lord God looked on every mortal life with this same horror at merited destruction, and changed not the mortals but rather changed Himself, becoming mortal flesh and blood in His only Son. And rather than see us suffer each our proper punishment He chose rather to die Himself, lest it happen to the ones He loves. This is how rescue is achieved, and for all who have eyes to see it is an invitation to participate in that rescue.
We must think about hell enough to realize it is the danger which will destroy the ones we love unless they be rescued. We must identify and acknowledge the danger in order to desire and participate in the rescue. Moved by thoughts of hell for someone we love, we recognize that in the power of the cross we are not helpless even in the face of death. And to do this for someone who has hurt us? That is what they call “next level.”
To choose and embrace a suffering, a sacrifice, for the benefit of another is to obtain release, partial or even total, from the very hell that is their purchased prize. Our puny sacrifices, our fervent but frankly pathetic prayers, our grief and petition toward this purpose more than any other transport us to the company of Christ Himself as He hung upon the cross. Looking at the faces of the crowd that demanded and participated in his death, He acknowledged they deserve to rot in hell. But His love for them, for us, gave Him to resolve I would rather die myself than let that happen to one of them.
Monsignor Smith
