Concerning the Purpose of an Earthly Life

The upshot of our discussion so far in this chapter is two-fold: first, that God can guarantee
a glorious end for each of us without causally determining our individual choices, and second,
that, even with respect to the hardest of hearts, God can guarantee their free repentance without
himself doing anything to them beyond maintaining their freedom in relation to him and
permitting them to experience the very condition of separation that they freely (and confusedly)
choose for themselves.
But if a glorious end is therefore secure from the beginning, then some might wonder about
the purpose of an earthly life. Why, they might ask, must we humans endure the trials and
tribulations of a normal human life, not to mention some truly horrendous evils, if God intends to
save everyone in the end? Michael Murray has put the question this way: Given that the earthly
life appears to yield poor soteriological results, just what purpose does it serve in the
outworking of Gods plan for his human creation?(1) Murray then goes on to comment:
Obviously, the post-mortem state in which most turn to God is vastly better suited [given the
universalists view of it] for the conversion of the unregenerate. But if so, why not create us all
ab initio, in this latter state?(2)
To the latter question, at least, we have already offered a possible answer back in Chapter
10. For if, as suggested there, a causal break from the past and a context of ambiguity, ignorance,
and misperception are metaphysically necessary conditions of our emergence as independent
rational agents, then God could hardly have started us out in a postmortem state where all such
ambiguity is already resolved and all of the relevant ignorance already removed. From the
premise that God is able to perfect each of us over an indefinitely long period of time, it simply
does not follow, therefore, that he could have started any one of us out in a perfected condition.
Neither can we infer even the possibility that, with respect to some sinners, he must bypass their
own reasoning powers with the wrong kind of compulsion, remove their freedom to separate
themselves from him, or violate their unique personalities through manipulation in order to
perfect them in the end.
Beyond that, it seems altogether likely that many of Gods redemptive activities in the
postmortem realm, as efficient as they may be there, nonetheless depend logically upon choices
made during an earthly life. One common view, for example, concerns the so-called earthly life
review, and here, I suspect, God has a special way of teaching unrepentant sinners the true
meaning of their most selfish acts. In some cases, at least, he may require them to experience the
effects of their actions from the perspective of others, almost as if they were the one being
affected; in that way, unrepentant sinners may literally reap what they have sown. A child-
beating father may thus be required to experience the beatings he has administered, together with
all the fear and terror he has caused, from the perspective of the very child he has beaten. He
may be made to see himself, that is, as the child sees him. But none of this would be possible in
the absence of an earthly life. One could hardly be subject to punishment (or correction) for sins
never committed; neither could one engage in a life review in the absence of an earthly life to
review; and not even Hitler could experience the horror of the very gas chambers for which he
was responsible if these had never existed.
As I see it, then, an earthly-type environment plays an essential role in our emergence as
rational agents, in our beginning to learn the lessons of love, and in laying the groundwork for
whatever redemptive activities God may yet bring to fruition in a postmortem realm. For if, as
Marilyn Adams has suggested, What accounts for our refusal [to submit to God freely] . . . is
ignorance of a special kind,(2) then one important purpose of the postmortem realm would
likely be to remove the remaining ignorance that prevents some from submitting to God freely
and to remove it in a way that does not bypass their own reasoning processes. If an alien
spaceship should unexpectedly land on the White House lawn in full view, then this would no
doubt alter the perspective of many in a perfectly rational way; and similarly, if Saul of Tarsus
(or Paul) really did encounter the risen Lord on the road to Damascus, as Christians believe he
did, then it is hardly surprising that such an experience would alter his perspective in a perfectly
rational way. According to Adams, however, the most relevant ignorance that accounts for our
refusal to submit to God freely is not propositional ignorance of what we might read in
textbooks. It is instead experiential ignorance of the immeasurable goodness that God is.(4)
So just what might successfully remove such experiential ignorance without, at the same
time, bypassing a persons own reasoning processes? Would a face to face encounter with God
inevitably do the trick? Perhaps not. For in some cases at least, an experiential ignorance of the
immeasurable goodness that God is may include an experiential ignorance of the misery that
separation from God actually entails. When an inability to imagine the full horror of separation
from the divine nature is relevant to someones refusal to repent, then God might have no choice
but to permit some sinners to experience the very separation they have confusedly chosen for
themselves. In some extreme cases, perhaps, God has no better means of transforming a sinners
heart without bypassing the sinners own choices and reasoning processes, and that, of course,
was the whole point of our discussion of the outer darkness at the end of the previous chapter.
(1) Mlchael Murray, 1hree verslons of unlversallsm," !"#$% "'( )%#*+,+-%., 1999, p. 62.
(2) /0#(.
(3) See Marllyn McCord Adams, lanunga on 'lellx Culpa': Analysls and Crluque," !"#$% "'( )%#*+,+-%.,
2008, p. 138.
(4) /0#(.