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Dare We Hope That All Men be Saved?: With a Short Discourse on Hell
This book is perhaps one of the most misunderstood works of Catholic theology of our time. Critics contend that von Balthasar espouses universalism, the idea that all men will certainly be saved. Yet, as von Balthasar insists, damnation is a real possibility-for others but also for ourselves. Indeed, he explores the nature of damnation with sobering clarity. At the same time, he contends that a deep understanding of God's merciful love and human freedom, and a careful reading of the Catholic tradition, point to the possibility-not the certainty-that, in the end, all men will accept the salvation Christ won for all. For this all-embracing salvation, von Balthasar says, we may dare hope, we must pray, and with God's help we must work.
The Catholic Church's teaching on Hell has been generally neglected by theologians, with the notable exception of von Balthasar. He grounds his reflections clearly in Sacred Scripture, and in Catholic teaching. While the Church asserts that certain individuals are in Heaven ("saints"), it never declares a specific individual to be in Hell. In fact, the Church hopes that in their final moments of life, even the greatest sinners would have repented of their terrible sins, and be saved.
Sacred Scripture states, "God...desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth. For there is one God, and there is one Mediator between God and man, the man Christ Jesus, who gave himself as a ransom for all." (1st Timothy, 2:4)
"Truly deep theological questions can rarely be answered with a simple yes or no. Rather, they are approached by the careful theologian, who circles around them, making distinctions, bringing essential aspects to light. The issue of who and how many will be saved is surely one of the thorniest theological puzzles in the Catholic tradition, and I don't know any theologian-classical or contemporary-who performs the nimble task of bringing out the complexity and profiles of this issue better than Hans Urs von Balthasar. In this short but rich text, you will hear of grace, punishment, mercy, the awful self-absorption of sin-but above all of hope."
- Fr. Robert Barron, Rector/President Mundelein Seminary/University of Saint Mary of the Lake
203 pages, Kindle Edition
First published November 1, 1988
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About the author
Hans Urs von Balthasar
456 books312 followersHans Urs von Balthasar was a Swiss theologian and priest who was nominated to be a cardinal of the Catholic Church. He is considered one of the most important theologians of the 20th century.
Born in Lucerne, Switzerland on 12 August 1905, he attended Stella Matutina (Jesuit school) in Feldkirch, Austria. He studied in Vienna, Berlin and Zurich, gaining a doctorate in German literature. He joined the Jesuits in 1929, and was ordained in 1936. He worked in Basel as a student chaplain. In 1950 he left the Jesuit order, feeling that God had called him to found a Secular Institute, a lay form of consecrated life that sought to work for the sanctification of the world especially from within. He joined the diocese of Chur. From the low point of being banned from teaching, his reputation eventually rose to the extent that John Paul II asked him to be a cardinal in 1988. However he died in his home in Basel on 26 June 1988, two days before the ceremony. Balthasar was interred in the Hofkirche cemetery in Lucern.
Along with Karl Rahner and Bernard Lonergan, Balthasar sought to offer an intellectual, faithful response to Western modernism. While Rahner offered a progressive, accommodating position on modernity and Lonergan worked out a philosophy of history that sought to critically appropriate modernity, Balthasar resisted the reductionism and human focus of modernity, wanting Christianity to challenge modern sensibilities.
Balthasar is very eclectic in his approach, sources, and interests and remains difficult to categorize. An example of his eclecticism was his long study and conversation with the influential Reformed Swiss theologian, Karl Barth, of whose work he wrote the first Catholic analysis and response. Although Balthasar's major points of analysis on Karl Barth's work have been disputed, his The Theology of Karl Barth: Exposition and Interpretation (1951) remains a classic work for its sensitivity and insight; Karl Barth himself agreed with its analysis of his own theological enterprise, calling it the best book on his own theology.
Balthasar's Theological Dramatic Theory has influenced the work of Raymund Schwager.
Born in Lucerne, Switzerland on 12 August 1905, he attended Stella Matutina (Jesuit school) in Feldkirch, Austria. He studied in Vienna, Berlin and Zurich, gaining a doctorate in German literature. He joined the Jesuits in 1929, and was ordained in 1936. He worked in Basel as a student chaplain. In 1950 he left the Jesuit order, feeling that God had called him to found a Secular Institute, a lay form of consecrated life that sought to work for the sanctification of the world especially from within. He joined the diocese of Chur. From the low point of being banned from teaching, his reputation eventually rose to the extent that John Paul II asked him to be a cardinal in 1988. However he died in his home in Basel on 26 June 1988, two days before the ceremony. Balthasar was interred in the Hofkirche cemetery in Lucern.
Along with Karl Rahner and Bernard Lonergan, Balthasar sought to offer an intellectual, faithful response to Western modernism. While Rahner offered a progressive, accommodating position on modernity and Lonergan worked out a philosophy of history that sought to critically appropriate modernity, Balthasar resisted the reductionism and human focus of modernity, wanting Christianity to challenge modern sensibilities.
Balthasar is very eclectic in his approach, sources, and interests and remains difficult to categorize. An example of his eclecticism was his long study and conversation with the influential Reformed Swiss theologian, Karl Barth, of whose work he wrote the first Catholic analysis and response. Although Balthasar's major points of analysis on Karl Barth's work have been disputed, his The Theology of Karl Barth: Exposition and Interpretation (1951) remains a classic work for its sensitivity and insight; Karl Barth himself agreed with its analysis of his own theological enterprise, calling it the best book on his own theology.
Balthasar's Theological Dramatic Theory has influenced the work of Raymund Schwager.
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July 29, 2011
The premise of this book is fairly simple and plain and yet as with all things Balthasar it remains incredibly dense. Here are two quotes that capture a sense of what is being purported.
"... love hopes all things (1 Cor 13:7). It cannot do otherwise than to hope for the reconciliation of all men in Christ. Such unlimited hope is, from the Christian standpoint, not only permitted but commanded" (213).
"I would like to request that one be permitted to hope that God's redemptive work for his creation might succeed. Certainty cannot be attained, but hope can be justified" (187).
He covers a lot of ground in this small book and the tension he holds is commendable and I believe thoroughly biblical. This work is actually composed of three shorter writings. The first (Dare We Hope) is chronologically where he began to layout his thoughts on this controversial topic. The second (A Short Discourse) is a response to the critics of the first. The third and last portion is basically an epilogue comprised of two chapters dealing with 'apokatastasis' (i.e. universal salvation). Overall, this work definitely provides one with some thoughtful fodder for meditation on an oft neglected subject.
"... love hopes all things (1 Cor 13:7). It cannot do otherwise than to hope for the reconciliation of all men in Christ. Such unlimited hope is, from the Christian standpoint, not only permitted but commanded" (213).
"I would like to request that one be permitted to hope that God's redemptive work for his creation might succeed. Certainty cannot be attained, but hope can be justified" (187).
He covers a lot of ground in this small book and the tension he holds is commendable and I believe thoroughly biblical. This work is actually composed of three shorter writings. The first (Dare We Hope) is chronologically where he began to layout his thoughts on this controversial topic. The second (A Short Discourse) is a response to the critics of the first. The third and last portion is basically an epilogue comprised of two chapters dealing with 'apokatastasis' (i.e. universal salvation). Overall, this work definitely provides one with some thoughtful fodder for meditation on an oft neglected subject.
August 6, 2020
I'm a "traditional Catholic", or as I prefer to think of it, simply a Catholic Christian. As such, I've heard a lot about this book and its author, 99% of it very negative. I decided to read the book for myself and see if what Balthasar says is honestly represented by his critics. ....critics which I always consider as being on "my side". I can only say that I've been pleasantly surprised to read this book and find myself edified and in a sense, humbled. I find it unfortunate that those of us who are very concerned about orthodoxy, and rightly so, seem unwilling to read what Balthasar says in its full context. I say this because from what I can tell, the negative characterization of his writings in this book can only come from reading him outside of the context he intentionally sets at the very beginning of his book and which he clearly endeavors to maintain throughout the book, lest we forget it and misunderstand him.
I'm open to correction of course. I could, in my ignorance, have been mistaken in my general understanding of the topic.
I'm open to correction of course. I could, in my ignorance, have been mistaken in my general understanding of the topic.
June 22, 2014
Hans Urs Von Balthasar narrowly avoids outright heresy by offering his book as mere speculation and possibility rather than an assertion.
He is flatly contradicted not only by the witness of scripture but by the regula fidei (rule of faith); throughout all of historic Christian orthodoxy it has been agreed that hell is everlasting.
So, based on this fact, we may not have a reasonable hope that all men may be saved.
If this was the case, the implications for the meaning and purpose of the cross, the resurrection, the judgment and the electing purpose of God in Christ would all be cheapened.
Just bad stuff. A more intellectually rigorous and sophisticated version of Rob Bell's "Love Wins".
He is flatly contradicted not only by the witness of scripture but by the regula fidei (rule of faith); throughout all of historic Christian orthodoxy it has been agreed that hell is everlasting.
So, based on this fact, we may not have a reasonable hope that all men may be saved.
If this was the case, the implications for the meaning and purpose of the cross, the resurrection, the judgment and the electing purpose of God in Christ would all be cheapened.
Just bad stuff. A more intellectually rigorous and sophisticated version of Rob Bell's "Love Wins".
April 30, 2020
Back in 1988 this book stirred up the water in theological circles, or so I have heard. In 2020 its still worth a read if you are interested in Christian views of hell and heaven, but overall, it is kind of vanilla.
The question for the book is the title: should we hope that all men will be saved? I mean, of course we should hope that. Why is this a question? Balthasar is not arguing all will be saved, he is simply arguing it is okay to hope for it. Most of those he interacts with are Catholics, so its like reading an old debate between people you don't really know (unless you're Catholic).
Also, the debate has shifted greatly since then. We have books on top of books not just arguing we should hope for all to be saved, but arguing all WILL be saved. Whether they argue strongly (like David Bentley Hart, who took Balthasar to task in his book) or sound more like Balthasar (like Brad Jersak) or if they show that plenty in the early church thought all will be saved (as Illaria Ramelli) the question of whether all will be saved has certainly shifted. Balthasar's book is definitely worth a read, depending where you are at. But again, to imagine it is out of bounds to merely hope for all to be saved seems odd.
My favorite takeaway from this book is Balthasar's talk on Paul's willingness to be cursed on behalf of his own people. From this, he challenges us to imagine everyone else being saved except for ourselves. This is challenging and humbling because we often think through these questions by thinking of others - "of course I am saved, but will such and such or so and so be saved?" Why do we put ourselves in the saved group? The discussion shifts, perhaps we become more humble, if we do not assume we're in.
Overall, a worthy book to read if you're interested in the topic. But depending where you are at, it might be a bit disappointing.
The question for the book is the title: should we hope that all men will be saved? I mean, of course we should hope that. Why is this a question? Balthasar is not arguing all will be saved, he is simply arguing it is okay to hope for it. Most of those he interacts with are Catholics, so its like reading an old debate between people you don't really know (unless you're Catholic).
Also, the debate has shifted greatly since then. We have books on top of books not just arguing we should hope for all to be saved, but arguing all WILL be saved. Whether they argue strongly (like David Bentley Hart, who took Balthasar to task in his book) or sound more like Balthasar (like Brad Jersak) or if they show that plenty in the early church thought all will be saved (as Illaria Ramelli) the question of whether all will be saved has certainly shifted. Balthasar's book is definitely worth a read, depending where you are at. But again, to imagine it is out of bounds to merely hope for all to be saved seems odd.
My favorite takeaway from this book is Balthasar's talk on Paul's willingness to be cursed on behalf of his own people. From this, he challenges us to imagine everyone else being saved except for ourselves. This is challenging and humbling because we often think through these questions by thinking of others - "of course I am saved, but will such and such or so and so be saved?" Why do we put ourselves in the saved group? The discussion shifts, perhaps we become more humble, if we do not assume we're in.
Overall, a worthy book to read if you're interested in the topic. But depending where you are at, it might be a bit disappointing.
September 10, 2020
I’ve read quite a bit on the teaching of universal reconciliation, from ancient church fathers to contemporary writers, so I’m pretty familiar with the arguments. I’m also pretty familiar with the range of confidence theologians have been willing to place in the idea, from the more “hopeful” position of someone like Brad Jersak to the staunch position of someone like David Bentley Hart. Reading Dare We Hope, I found myself increasingly frustrated with Balthasar’s timidity. I respect the “hopeful” position in general, but in my opinion this felt like a version of hopefulism with such little bite that it can feel borderline meaningless. Balthasar seems so committed to tiptoeing through the minefield that is 2000 years of orthodox theology and tradition without ruffling any feathers, that his arguments land with very little impact and I regularly ended passages unsure of what he himself even believed.
Maybe I should have taken the title a little more literally, because Balthasar spends several chapters trying to justify the idea that the Christian could even rightfully hope for the ultimate good of every soul (not even claim it as a belief), which really left me scratching my head. That it could be considered even problematic to simply hope for universal reconciliation had never occurred to me. He spends so much time creeping around this idea of hope, which felt unnecessary and frankly convoluted, using a mixture of Biblical texts and systematic theology in an effort to crack open the door to universal reconciliation quietly and without letting more than just a sliver of light in. In my opinion he could have done all of this work much more efficiently in just a few pages by citing a few well-known passages of the New Testament as follows:
1a: Jesus tells his followers to pray that "God’s will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven." (Matthew 6)
1b: God’s will for the world expressly includes the salvation of all people (2 Peter 3, 1 Timothy 2)
1c: Therefore, when we pray that God’s will be done, we are free to pray for the reconciliation and salvation of all people (whether or not that makes universal salvation an eschatological inevitability or merely an open-ended possibility remains a separate discussion). Moving from prayer for universal salvation to hope for universal salvation seems pretty straightforward from that point. Also:
2a: 1 Corinthians 13:7 - "Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” I’m sure you could come up with a way to move "hoping for all things” away from universal salvation, but I think the text (especially in it’s larger context in 1 Corinthians) not only leaves open that possibility, but actually encourages it (Balthasar does mention this verse a couple times, but in my opinion he doesn’t do much to unpack it).
While I think finding the “permission” to hope for universal salvation should have been pretty straightforward using the text, again, I just don’t know why Balthasar feels compelled to spend so much time on that idea. I guess he’s really trying to make it abundantly clear that his theology is a hopeful one and not one of certainty like that of Gregory of Nyssa, but man, it feels like he is holding himself back from saying what he wants in order to avoid anything even slightly off-color within his Catholic tradition. He even lets others quote the more bold universalist statements for him, which was some of my favorite content in the book, but he always remains careful to not affirm too strongly any of their theological visions. Maybe this is just my own misunderstanding of the context he was writing in.
Overall, I felt like Balthasar leaned too heavily into systematic theology for a discussion about universal hope. Obviously this discussion is going to require a lot of nuanced theology and exegesis, but I just really don’t think a topic like hope can end in the realm of the systematic. Something like hope has to extend out of the abstract and into the daily Christian life, and directly inform how a Christian understands the very heart of Christ. At no point did I feel like Balthasar unpacked why or how exactly such a hope would be important or meaningful in the Christian life (even in the chapter explicitly titled “The Obligation To Hope For All”). To me he felt stuck in the world of calculated, traditional theology, and I’m not sure if that was by choice or because he felt uncomfortable breaking out of that world for fear of condemnation by his contemporaries (which he ended up receiving anyway).
This all said, I found Balthasar’s division of “pre-easter” texts (the synoptic gospels) from “post-easter” texts (the Johannian and Pauline texts) really thought provoking. I liked his short passage on the parable of the rich man and Lazarus. I also found the epilogue discussion about the early understanding of apokatastasis really interesting. The book is also well written, although I really wish Balthasar would have been more forthcoming about his position. I would recommend this book to people interested in the dialogue around universal salvation, but I would not recommend it as an argument for a specific position so much as a series of short musings on the tension we find throughout the New Testament. I realize this is an important text in this discussion, but I ironically felt less “hopeful” after reading this book than before starting it. I think some of the most interesting ideas discussed in this book were much more beautifully unpacked in George MacDonald’s series "Unspoken Sermons,” such as Paul wishing he could be accursed on behalf of his brethren (see MacDonald’s sermon “Love Thy Neighbor”) and the tension between God’s justice and his mercy (see MacDonald’s sermon “Justice”).
Maybe I should have taken the title a little more literally, because Balthasar spends several chapters trying to justify the idea that the Christian could even rightfully hope for the ultimate good of every soul (not even claim it as a belief), which really left me scratching my head. That it could be considered even problematic to simply hope for universal reconciliation had never occurred to me. He spends so much time creeping around this idea of hope, which felt unnecessary and frankly convoluted, using a mixture of Biblical texts and systematic theology in an effort to crack open the door to universal reconciliation quietly and without letting more than just a sliver of light in. In my opinion he could have done all of this work much more efficiently in just a few pages by citing a few well-known passages of the New Testament as follows:
1a: Jesus tells his followers to pray that "God’s will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven." (Matthew 6)
1b: God’s will for the world expressly includes the salvation of all people (2 Peter 3, 1 Timothy 2)
1c: Therefore, when we pray that God’s will be done, we are free to pray for the reconciliation and salvation of all people (whether or not that makes universal salvation an eschatological inevitability or merely an open-ended possibility remains a separate discussion). Moving from prayer for universal salvation to hope for universal salvation seems pretty straightforward from that point. Also:
2a: 1 Corinthians 13:7 - "Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” I’m sure you could come up with a way to move "hoping for all things” away from universal salvation, but I think the text (especially in it’s larger context in 1 Corinthians) not only leaves open that possibility, but actually encourages it (Balthasar does mention this verse a couple times, but in my opinion he doesn’t do much to unpack it).
While I think finding the “permission” to hope for universal salvation should have been pretty straightforward using the text, again, I just don’t know why Balthasar feels compelled to spend so much time on that idea. I guess he’s really trying to make it abundantly clear that his theology is a hopeful one and not one of certainty like that of Gregory of Nyssa, but man, it feels like he is holding himself back from saying what he wants in order to avoid anything even slightly off-color within his Catholic tradition. He even lets others quote the more bold universalist statements for him, which was some of my favorite content in the book, but he always remains careful to not affirm too strongly any of their theological visions. Maybe this is just my own misunderstanding of the context he was writing in.
Overall, I felt like Balthasar leaned too heavily into systematic theology for a discussion about universal hope. Obviously this discussion is going to require a lot of nuanced theology and exegesis, but I just really don’t think a topic like hope can end in the realm of the systematic. Something like hope has to extend out of the abstract and into the daily Christian life, and directly inform how a Christian understands the very heart of Christ. At no point did I feel like Balthasar unpacked why or how exactly such a hope would be important or meaningful in the Christian life (even in the chapter explicitly titled “The Obligation To Hope For All”). To me he felt stuck in the world of calculated, traditional theology, and I’m not sure if that was by choice or because he felt uncomfortable breaking out of that world for fear of condemnation by his contemporaries (which he ended up receiving anyway).
This all said, I found Balthasar’s division of “pre-easter” texts (the synoptic gospels) from “post-easter” texts (the Johannian and Pauline texts) really thought provoking. I liked his short passage on the parable of the rich man and Lazarus. I also found the epilogue discussion about the early understanding of apokatastasis really interesting. The book is also well written, although I really wish Balthasar would have been more forthcoming about his position. I would recommend this book to people interested in the dialogue around universal salvation, but I would not recommend it as an argument for a specific position so much as a series of short musings on the tension we find throughout the New Testament. I realize this is an important text in this discussion, but I ironically felt less “hopeful” after reading this book than before starting it. I think some of the most interesting ideas discussed in this book were much more beautifully unpacked in George MacDonald’s series "Unspoken Sermons,” such as Paul wishing he could be accursed on behalf of his brethren (see MacDonald’s sermon “Love Thy Neighbor”) and the tension between God’s justice and his mercy (see MacDonald’s sermon “Justice”).
July 6, 2025
If the title had been translated correctly this book would have five stars across the board. The point is that we should all be praying our butts off that the people we may like to see burn repent and go to heaven. If we can’t even offer that much charity we don’t have much hope for ourselves.
January 16, 2016
Hans Urs Von Balthasar with Joseph Ratzinger (Pope Benedict XVI), Karol Wojtyla (Pope John Paul II) and Henri Lubac were some of the most influential Catholic theologians of the 20th century. Balthasar was a close personal friend with Ratzinger and was appointed Cardinal by Pope JP II after Balthasar declined the appointment the first two times. Regrettably, Balthasar died before accepting the red hat after finally accepting the offer on Pope JP II's third, and most persistent, offer to Balthasar. Along with the great Protestant theologian Barth (good friend of Balthasar), Tillich, Bonhoffer, and even Lewis and Schweitzer, they are/were some of the most influential Christian theologians of the 20th century.
Although one of the easier reads for Balthasar (and every time I read Balthasar), he seems to open up more questions than answers, more crevices of thoughts that will take me 30 or 40 more books to climb out. I guess your best teachers don't always give you the answers, but, instead, teach you to think, struggle, and ultimately learn..
Although one of the easier reads for Balthasar (and every time I read Balthasar), he seems to open up more questions than answers, more crevices of thoughts that will take me 30 or 40 more books to climb out. I guess your best teachers don't always give you the answers, but, instead, teach you to think, struggle, and ultimately learn..
June 14, 2023
A short book on the question of whether, from a Christian perspective, a believer can maintain the hope that all humanity will be saved in the end.
I really enjoyed this book, though I would caution against just diving into this, as it is clearly written towards an audience with a good understanding of Catholic theology/history. I think a working understanding of the major points of Christian theology - especially those around judgement, mercy, salvation, goodness/truth/beauty, and faith/hope/love - is sufficient enough to bring a reader in to the machinations of Balthasar’s mind. Any academic reading can be dangerous territory as we encounter new syntax, structures, argumentation styles, and structures of discourse, and certainly this text will provide those unfamiliar with theological discourse an interesting forest of ideas to observe.
Balthasar clearly expects a certain amount of prior knowledge as some points are left undeveloped and an argument can twist on the most innocuous sentence. I appreciated Balthasar taking up what I have encountered as serious paradoxes/contradictions within Christian theology, and I probably only understood about 80% of the whole argument.
Somewhat unique to this book is the large number of female authors and voices cited and used throughout. A really welcome break from the typical male-dominated bibliographies!
I really enjoyed this book, though I would caution against just diving into this, as it is clearly written towards an audience with a good understanding of Catholic theology/history. I think a working understanding of the major points of Christian theology - especially those around judgement, mercy, salvation, goodness/truth/beauty, and faith/hope/love - is sufficient enough to bring a reader in to the machinations of Balthasar’s mind. Any academic reading can be dangerous territory as we encounter new syntax, structures, argumentation styles, and structures of discourse, and certainly this text will provide those unfamiliar with theological discourse an interesting forest of ideas to observe.
Balthasar clearly expects a certain amount of prior knowledge as some points are left undeveloped and an argument can twist on the most innocuous sentence. I appreciated Balthasar taking up what I have encountered as serious paradoxes/contradictions within Christian theology, and I probably only understood about 80% of the whole argument.
Somewhat unique to this book is the large number of female authors and voices cited and used throughout. A really welcome break from the typical male-dominated bibliographies!
August 31, 2025
It’s been a long time since I’ve had to put a book down several times while I was reading it because it moved me to prayer.
November 11, 2025
This book poses an interesting question—one that’s somewhat frowned upon in the theological milieu I’m in. Still, I always find it valuable to see how different traditions interpret and emphasize particular verses, and this book offered a helpful exploration in that regard e.g. 1 Timothy 2:4, John 12:32, Matthew 18:30
That said, I found it a bit too academic in both form and presentation. “Academic” isn’t inherently negative, but in this case, I’m simply not the right audience. The book references an overwhelming number of verses (some of which I would interpret differently) and spends much of its time debating other theologians.
There’s definitely an audience that would appreciate engaging with this level of rigor and discourse; I’m just not yet far enough along in my own readings to be part of it.
Thanks to S.R. for the recommendation!
That said, I found it a bit too academic in both form and presentation. “Academic” isn’t inherently negative, but in this case, I’m simply not the right audience. The book references an overwhelming number of verses (some of which I would interpret differently) and spends much of its time debating other theologians.
There’s definitely an audience that would appreciate engaging with this level of rigor and discourse; I’m just not yet far enough along in my own readings to be part of it.
Thanks to S.R. for the recommendation!
December 30, 2023
There are some real gems of insight here and I thoroughly enjoyed the book. Some of my favorites were 1) recognizing the NT contains both warnings of (seemingly) harsh eternal judgement and promises of God's total victory of reconciliation in Christ 2) the meaning of Paul's desire to be cursed for the sake of Israel 3) the impossibility of dividing God's judgment from his love.
One review described this book as "vanilla," and in a sense, that's true. The main conclusion that it's okay to hope for the salvation of all is a bit underwhelming. There's a lot more that could be said and said more strongly. At times, Balthasar works toward a conclusion just to pull back at the last minute without much justification for it.
I certainly recommend this for an interesting read.
One review described this book as "vanilla," and in a sense, that's true. The main conclusion that it's okay to hope for the salvation of all is a bit underwhelming. There's a lot more that could be said and said more strongly. At times, Balthasar works toward a conclusion just to pull back at the last minute without much justification for it.
I certainly recommend this for an interesting read.
March 27, 2014
I have to rave about the physical book. Ignatius Press turns out expensive, but incredibly well-made paperbacks. Their editions are printed on quality paper with excellent bindings.
One of those books I will not read in the presence of food and drink.
One of those books I will not read in the presence of food and drink.
July 12, 2025
Hans Urs von Balthasar was a Catholic priest and theologian, super influential for many reasons, one of which being hopeful universalism. To simplify his view, Scripture points both towards hell and universal reconciliation. We shouldn't try to square this circle and come up with a definitive answer; no need to press these “biblically irreconcilable statements into a speculative system.” Instead, we should live an “existential posture”; still fearing an eternal hell while hoping for the salvation of all.
I saw a Goodreads comment that said this idea must’ve been provocative in 1988 to conservative Catholics, but now it’s kinda vanilla, and I agree. Hopeful universalism is still a radical position to many, especially in evangelical circles, but I find it timid. Like David Bentley Hart says, it’s odd to both believe universal salvation is the best possible end to the Christian story, but God may not bring it about. I also don’t really understand the "existential posture” position. You can’t just present two diametrically opposed views but throw your hands up and claim it's impossible to truly reconcile them.
Still, hopeful universalism is a step forward. Certainly better than the morbid, near sadistic glee that some Christians seem to take in the eternal torment of the damned (see Tertullian, Jonathan Edwards, Aquinas). There were also some new additions to the universalist debate that I thought were interesting. Post-Easter statements in Scripture lean more universalist, Augustine's criticism that the compassion of universalism necessarily extends to the devil/demons etc.
I just didn’t find Balthasar’s conclusion or method convincing. He also has a dense way of writing, which isn’t objectively bad, but I couldn’t catch all of his theological references at times.
2.5
Quotes
“The last word, here as well, will go to the saints. Regardless of whether they think that there are or are not men in hell, the thought of that possibility remains unbearable to them: “If we see a person, whom in a special way we love here below, with a great trial or suffering, it seems that our own very nature invites us to compassion; and if their trial is great, we ourselves become distressed. Well, who is there who can suffer seeing a soul in the supreme trial or trials that has no end?” (Teresa of Avila). May we therefore pray the Church’s prayer of hope: “Lord Jesus Christ, to save all mankind you stretched out your arms on the cross. Let our work be pleasing to you: may it proclaim your salvation to the world.”
“The prototype here is Saint Paul himself, who says in the ninth chapter of Romans: “I could wish that I myself were accursed and cut off from Christ for the sake of my brethren, my kinsmen according to the flesh” (Rom 9:3). The possibility that his fellow Jews might be separated from Christ does not awaken in Paul anything even vaguely resembling gloating self-satisfaction, or even delight in the divine justice, but rather a mercy that conduces to utter self-sacrifice.”
I saw a Goodreads comment that said this idea must’ve been provocative in 1988 to conservative Catholics, but now it’s kinda vanilla, and I agree. Hopeful universalism is still a radical position to many, especially in evangelical circles, but I find it timid. Like David Bentley Hart says, it’s odd to both believe universal salvation is the best possible end to the Christian story, but God may not bring it about. I also don’t really understand the "existential posture” position. You can’t just present two diametrically opposed views but throw your hands up and claim it's impossible to truly reconcile them.
Still, hopeful universalism is a step forward. Certainly better than the morbid, near sadistic glee that some Christians seem to take in the eternal torment of the damned (see Tertullian, Jonathan Edwards, Aquinas). There were also some new additions to the universalist debate that I thought were interesting. Post-Easter statements in Scripture lean more universalist, Augustine's criticism that the compassion of universalism necessarily extends to the devil/demons etc.
I just didn’t find Balthasar’s conclusion or method convincing. He also has a dense way of writing, which isn’t objectively bad, but I couldn’t catch all of his theological references at times.
2.5
Quotes
“The last word, here as well, will go to the saints. Regardless of whether they think that there are or are not men in hell, the thought of that possibility remains unbearable to them: “If we see a person, whom in a special way we love here below, with a great trial or suffering, it seems that our own very nature invites us to compassion; and if their trial is great, we ourselves become distressed. Well, who is there who can suffer seeing a soul in the supreme trial or trials that has no end?” (Teresa of Avila). May we therefore pray the Church’s prayer of hope: “Lord Jesus Christ, to save all mankind you stretched out your arms on the cross. Let our work be pleasing to you: may it proclaim your salvation to the world.”
“The prototype here is Saint Paul himself, who says in the ninth chapter of Romans: “I could wish that I myself were accursed and cut off from Christ for the sake of my brethren, my kinsmen according to the flesh” (Rom 9:3). The possibility that his fellow Jews might be separated from Christ does not awaken in Paul anything even vaguely resembling gloating self-satisfaction, or even delight in the divine justice, but rather a mercy that conduces to utter self-sacrifice.”
September 18, 2024
This is very academic and in places reads like a fight between annoyed professors. "...which I did not say..." etc but overall, it's really good.
Hans Urs von Balthasar holds through the book that scripture does allow us to believe all will be saved. He distinguishes his system from universalism (it's not a given) and I think he's got a lot of good points. There are many verses in scripture that indicate everyone will be redeemed in the end, and of course, there are many verses indicating that this is not the case. He works with all of them, and I think he does a very good job of balancing out the blind hope of universalism ("Yay! We're all going to Heaven") and the very real risk that some souls will go to hell.
In the beginning he says that everyone agrees we can hold out hope for any individual soul; no one has ever been declared to be in hell the same way individual saints have been declared to be in heaven. So how is it possible that we can hold out hope for any individual...but say it's not possible for every individual.
Overall very good. Recommended.
Hans Urs von Balthasar holds through the book that scripture does allow us to believe all will be saved. He distinguishes his system from universalism (it's not a given) and I think he's got a lot of good points. There are many verses in scripture that indicate everyone will be redeemed in the end, and of course, there are many verses indicating that this is not the case. He works with all of them, and I think he does a very good job of balancing out the blind hope of universalism ("Yay! We're all going to Heaven") and the very real risk that some souls will go to hell.
In the beginning he says that everyone agrees we can hold out hope for any individual soul; no one has ever been declared to be in hell the same way individual saints have been declared to be in heaven. So how is it possible that we can hold out hope for any individual...but say it's not possible for every individual.
Overall very good. Recommended.
September 28, 2020
Great book and thesis. Makes an argument from Aquinas, Augustine, Clement, and a number of female Catholic mystics from the Middle Ages. Just my kind of stuff.
The premise is that we, as people, are more awful than we can conceive of, and that God loves us more than we can fathom. Seems legit.
The premise is that we, as people, are more awful than we can conceive of, and that God loves us more than we can fathom. Seems legit.
March 31, 2024
Written by a highly respected Catholic theologian, this book affirms the existence of hell, though not part of God's creation he asks if we can dare to hope he'll is empty without adopting apokastasis.
August 8, 2017
This is an excellent book that gives a Catholic lots to think about! It is very controversial and often misunderstood. It was a great first theological work for me to tackle and I found it easy to follow and understand. It definitely made me question where I had gotten certain ideas on hell and gave me a far greater hope than I had before. I would definitely recommend it!
March 9, 2025
I only rated this four stars because if I gave it five all my friends would think I’m a universalist.
September 7, 2024
My sentence reading skills were challenged.
September 21, 2025
I adore this book. if you want to understand how a Christian should think about hell... read it
March 28, 2023
Dare We Hope “That All Men Be Saved”? is a classic and controversial essay from the Swiss theologian Hans Urs von Balthasar, one of the most influential Catholic thinkers of the nouvelle théologie movement in the mid-twentieth century. While Balthasar leans heavily on patristic thinkers as part of his ressourcement theological method, he locates the foremost interpretive problem with respect to the doctrine of hell in divine revelation. In effect, Balthasar identifies two sets of biblical texts that seem to exist in tension. On the one hand, there are the “infernalist” texts that allude to or threaten the prospect of eternal punishment for those who alienate themselves from or openly defy God and fail to repent. On the other hand, there are the “universalist” texts that underscore the universality of Christ’s redemptive mission and stress God’s desire that all people be saved. What explains these ostensibly opposed statements in the New Testament about eternal punishment and the salvation of all? Is it possible to decide between them?
The Roman Catholic Church teaches that universalism, the idea that we know that all people will be saved, is a heresy. This is because, in view of the infernalist texts scattered across the New Testament, we simply cannot conclude with certainty that all people will be saved; hell must be a real option for each and every person. As Balthasar characterizes this notion that permanent alienation from God is always a possibility, “man [sic.] is under judgment and must choose” (6). That is, the infernalist texts indicate that our lives are permeated with moments of moral decision in the eyes of God and that we think and act not only in relation to ourselves and one another, but also in relation to God, our creator. We can live in accordance with the will of God and what pleases God, or we can live in rejection of and apart from God. Consequently, as Josef Pieper, the famous neo-Thomist Catholic philosopher would put it, the universalist position is presumptuous: it claims to know what it cannot know and so eradicates the need for supernatural hope, a core element in the Christian life. What then to do with the texts that imply universal salvation, which several eminent Church Fathers—like Origen, Gregory of Nyssa, Clement of Alexandria, Maximus the Confessor, and Didymus the Blind, all of whom did defend universalism, or some notion very close to it—insist we must take seriously? Does our consent to the authority of Church doctrine mean we must simply overlook these texts, or interpret them differently?
For Balthasar, the clear answer to this latter question is no. In view of what God has accomplished in Christ by the power of the cross and resurrection, and in view of the second, universalist set of texts mentioned earlier, Balthasar insists that we may reasonably hope that all people will be saved. Indeed, Balthasar even alludes to the “obligation to hope [for salvation] for all” (169-177). He favorably cites Hermann-Josef Lauter, who writes: “Will it really be all men who allow themselves to be reconciled [to God]? No theology or prophecy can answer this question. But love hopes all things (1 Cor. 13:7). It cannot do otherwise than to hope for the reconciliation of all men in Christ. Such unlimited hope is, from the Christian standpoint, not only permitted but commanded” (171). It is not clear to me whether Balthasar whole-heartedly endorses Lauter’s position. There is a considerable conceptual, moral, and theological difference between whether we are permitted to hope that all people will be saved or, alternatively, we must hope that hell is empty.
The Church, Balthasar is keen to note, has never claimed to know if any humans are in hell or, relatedly, that any specific humans are in hell, and this leaves open the possibility of universal salvation, a prospect for which, at the very least, we are permitted to hope as faithful Catholics. This “hopeful universalism,” as Balthasar’s position has come to be known, has several attractive features. First and most obviously, hopeful universalism does not come down on one side or another with respect to the infernalist and universalist biblical texts. Rather, it interprets both sets of texts as indicative of two possible outcomes—that either all will be saved or only some will be saved. More to the point, hopeful universalism concedes, in view of both sets of texts, that permanent alienation from God is always a possibility for each and every one of us, and hence captures the fact that we live “under judgment” and must choose whether to accept the divine gift of grace.
Moreover, hopeful universalism reflects the sentiment, held by saints no less than Teresa of Avila and Catherine of Siena, that we should want hell to be empty. Catherine’s confessor, Raymond of Capua, informs us in his Life of Saint Catherine, that she told him about a mystical vision in which she spoke to Christ: “How could I ever reconcile myself, Lord, to the prospect that a single one of those whom, like me, you have created in your image and likeness should become lost and slip from your hands? No, in absolutely no case do I want to see a single one of my brethren meet with ruin.” To this, Christ responds: “Love cannot be contained in hell; it would totally annihilate hell; one could more easily do away with hell than allow love to reside in it” (172). Christ’s mystical revelation to Catherine echoes the premise at the heart of hopeful universalism, succinctly put by Edith Stein, whom Balthasar also favorably cites: “Faith in the unboundedness of divine love and grace . . . justifies hope for the universality of redemption, although, through the possibility of resistance to grace that remains open in principle, the possibility of eternal damnation also persists” (176).
For those who, like David Bentley Hart, insist that pure universalism (i.e., universalism that entirely dispenses with the idea of an eternal hell) is a sine qua non without which Christianity cannot be a coherent and credible system of belief, Balthasar’s hopeful universalism will obviously not suffice. Indeed, for Hart, Balthasar shrinks in the face of Catholic tradition and ultimately offers a milquetoast position that unjustifiably preserves precisely those aspects of the doctrine of hell that render Christianity incoherent and morally obtuse. Roman Catholics, however, cannot endorse Hart’s brand of universalism within the authoritative bounds of their faith. For them (us), Balthasar offers the most credible articulation of the universalist hope that all will be saved.
The Roman Catholic Church teaches that universalism, the idea that we know that all people will be saved, is a heresy. This is because, in view of the infernalist texts scattered across the New Testament, we simply cannot conclude with certainty that all people will be saved; hell must be a real option for each and every person. As Balthasar characterizes this notion that permanent alienation from God is always a possibility, “man [sic.] is under judgment and must choose” (6). That is, the infernalist texts indicate that our lives are permeated with moments of moral decision in the eyes of God and that we think and act not only in relation to ourselves and one another, but also in relation to God, our creator. We can live in accordance with the will of God and what pleases God, or we can live in rejection of and apart from God. Consequently, as Josef Pieper, the famous neo-Thomist Catholic philosopher would put it, the universalist position is presumptuous: it claims to know what it cannot know and so eradicates the need for supernatural hope, a core element in the Christian life. What then to do with the texts that imply universal salvation, which several eminent Church Fathers—like Origen, Gregory of Nyssa, Clement of Alexandria, Maximus the Confessor, and Didymus the Blind, all of whom did defend universalism, or some notion very close to it—insist we must take seriously? Does our consent to the authority of Church doctrine mean we must simply overlook these texts, or interpret them differently?
For Balthasar, the clear answer to this latter question is no. In view of what God has accomplished in Christ by the power of the cross and resurrection, and in view of the second, universalist set of texts mentioned earlier, Balthasar insists that we may reasonably hope that all people will be saved. Indeed, Balthasar even alludes to the “obligation to hope [for salvation] for all” (169-177). He favorably cites Hermann-Josef Lauter, who writes: “Will it really be all men who allow themselves to be reconciled [to God]? No theology or prophecy can answer this question. But love hopes all things (1 Cor. 13:7). It cannot do otherwise than to hope for the reconciliation of all men in Christ. Such unlimited hope is, from the Christian standpoint, not only permitted but commanded” (171). It is not clear to me whether Balthasar whole-heartedly endorses Lauter’s position. There is a considerable conceptual, moral, and theological difference between whether we are permitted to hope that all people will be saved or, alternatively, we must hope that hell is empty.
The Church, Balthasar is keen to note, has never claimed to know if any humans are in hell or, relatedly, that any specific humans are in hell, and this leaves open the possibility of universal salvation, a prospect for which, at the very least, we are permitted to hope as faithful Catholics. This “hopeful universalism,” as Balthasar’s position has come to be known, has several attractive features. First and most obviously, hopeful universalism does not come down on one side or another with respect to the infernalist and universalist biblical texts. Rather, it interprets both sets of texts as indicative of two possible outcomes—that either all will be saved or only some will be saved. More to the point, hopeful universalism concedes, in view of both sets of texts, that permanent alienation from God is always a possibility for each and every one of us, and hence captures the fact that we live “under judgment” and must choose whether to accept the divine gift of grace.
Moreover, hopeful universalism reflects the sentiment, held by saints no less than Teresa of Avila and Catherine of Siena, that we should want hell to be empty. Catherine’s confessor, Raymond of Capua, informs us in his Life of Saint Catherine, that she told him about a mystical vision in which she spoke to Christ: “How could I ever reconcile myself, Lord, to the prospect that a single one of those whom, like me, you have created in your image and likeness should become lost and slip from your hands? No, in absolutely no case do I want to see a single one of my brethren meet with ruin.” To this, Christ responds: “Love cannot be contained in hell; it would totally annihilate hell; one could more easily do away with hell than allow love to reside in it” (172). Christ’s mystical revelation to Catherine echoes the premise at the heart of hopeful universalism, succinctly put by Edith Stein, whom Balthasar also favorably cites: “Faith in the unboundedness of divine love and grace . . . justifies hope for the universality of redemption, although, through the possibility of resistance to grace that remains open in principle, the possibility of eternal damnation also persists” (176).
For those who, like David Bentley Hart, insist that pure universalism (i.e., universalism that entirely dispenses with the idea of an eternal hell) is a sine qua non without which Christianity cannot be a coherent and credible system of belief, Balthasar’s hopeful universalism will obviously not suffice. Indeed, for Hart, Balthasar shrinks in the face of Catholic tradition and ultimately offers a milquetoast position that unjustifiably preserves precisely those aspects of the doctrine of hell that render Christianity incoherent and morally obtuse. Roman Catholics, however, cannot endorse Hart’s brand of universalism within the authoritative bounds of their faith. For them (us), Balthasar offers the most credible articulation of the universalist hope that all will be saved.
April 2, 2025
With Easter coming up, I wanted to do a theological deep dive, and Hans Urs von Balthasar has been on my radar for a while. It’s been some time since I really sat with the idea of Christian universalism, the belief that "all shall be saved," and Hans has definitely rekindled my appreciation for these kinds of conversations.
What I appreciate about this book is how he acknowledges the tension in Scripture: some passages speak of lasting punishment, while others speak of God saving all. Instead of forcing a resolution, he invites readers to sit with that tension and ask, "What is hope?" If that question makes you uncomfortable, GOOD! Sit with that discomfort. Is it the kind of discomfort that stems from a thought like, "Thank God I’m not like those sinners over there?" Then we should see what Jesus says about those that think like that.
In a way that echoes David Bentley Hart, though Hart is more explicit, Hans raises a challenging idea: if heaven is a place of perfect joy, could it really be heaven if we know someone we love is suffering in torment? It’s not about being absolutely certain in one belief or another. As he puts it, "Certainty cannot be attained, but hope can be justified."
What I appreciate about this book is how he acknowledges the tension in Scripture: some passages speak of lasting punishment, while others speak of God saving all. Instead of forcing a resolution, he invites readers to sit with that tension and ask, "What is hope?" If that question makes you uncomfortable, GOOD! Sit with that discomfort. Is it the kind of discomfort that stems from a thought like, "Thank God I’m not like those sinners over there?" Then we should see what Jesus says about those that think like that.
In a way that echoes David Bentley Hart, though Hart is more explicit, Hans raises a challenging idea: if heaven is a place of perfect joy, could it really be heaven if we know someone we love is suffering in torment? It’s not about being absolutely certain in one belief or another. As he puts it, "Certainty cannot be attained, but hope can be justified."
October 25, 2013
This is a very well written, insightful, and thought-provoking essay, but it contains several deep-rooted errors. Those who are new to or have less knowledge of the Catholic faith should be cautious about reading it.
July 16, 2016
Simply wonderful exposition of hope for universal redemption from a Catholic theologian.
October 27, 2025
This book is great. I remember reading a review of it saying something to the effect of von Balthasar being a bit reticent in his opinions here, something that will seem unbelievable for someone starting this out since he begins the book being quite firm about standing on his views regardless of pushback from other Catholic Church officials. But I started reading George Macdonald's Unspoken Sermons after a few chapters of this book and I get what the original review was saying - while von Balthasar is firm about his views that yes, we may dare and even possibly SHOULD hope that all men be saved, he is quite careful about saying it. So this book ends up being about possibilities; the possibility of eternal damnation, of hell, of our own salvation not being certain, of all men being saved or of most men being damned.
I liked it, even so. I think von Balthasar makes a great case for how we can hold to a quasi-universalist view (though I doubt he would enjoy this term being used) while maintaining humility and not ignoring the Bible verses that are quite clear about eternal damnation being, at a minimum, an important concept for us to consider. This reads almost like a literature survey in the way that it avoids making an argument and more points to the history of the ideas and how earlier thinkers and saints thought about this question of eternal damnation and salvation of all men. But it does make a very important central point: it does not seem that Jesus really cared about us being certain of eternal salvation (or damnation!) as much as he seemed to care that we considered the possibility of eternal damnation as real and thus lived our lives holding to that possibility, at least for the sake of us not becoming prideful in our assurance of salvation. Coming from a Reformed background, that made me think a lot about the way I've seen salvation (both personal and of man in general) being discussed in the Christian circles I've been a part of. I'm not giving it 5 stars because I think it repeats its points sometimes and the "carefulness" of von Balthasar can get a bit annoying at some points, though I do think he made the right choice. I suppose that in terms of content it's 5 stars, but considering the form of the book I end up giving it 4 overall.
In the end I suppose the conclusion I take from this is: surely God's goodness and grace is enough to save all men, regardless of sin, evil or hell. Nevertheless, we are called to believe hell and damnation as a real possibility. Thus we can and should hope that God will bring all creation and men to Him, for He is surely capable, and if He can call us and save us (and by us I mean any man, from his personal point of view and considering his personal relationship with God), then we know He can do so for anyone else, regardless of how badly they can seem to us. And that hope is enough when considering the matter of the salvation of all men; the work we are called to must be done regardless of the end result - which we do not (and cannot) know anything about.
Below are some of the quotes which I think capture the general points of the book:
"All New Testament and theological talk about hell has but one point: To bring man to come to grips with his life in view of the real possibility of eternal ruin and to understand revelation as a demand of the utmost seriousness."
"If someone asks us, "Will all men be saved?" we answer in line with the Gospel: I do not know. I have no certainty whatsoever. That means just as well that I have no certainty whatsoever that all men will not be saved."
"God is all that is good, and God has made all that is made, and God loves all that he has made. And if any man or woman ceases to love any of his fellow Christians, then he loves none, for he does not love all."
"... we can never place too much trust in the good God, who is so poweful and merciful! We receive from him as much as we hope from him."
P.S.: I think it is quite silly that some people find this book controversial given how it is written. To consider speculation, as careful as is done in this work, to be a mistake, is a bizarre (though unfortunately common) hill to die on. He even brings up the point about such matters not being ideal for discussion with those uninitiated, which I can only thus suppose are the people who get all up in arms about the possibility of all creatures made in the image of God being eventually reconciled into His Goodness. The horror!
I liked it, even so. I think von Balthasar makes a great case for how we can hold to a quasi-universalist view (though I doubt he would enjoy this term being used) while maintaining humility and not ignoring the Bible verses that are quite clear about eternal damnation being, at a minimum, an important concept for us to consider. This reads almost like a literature survey in the way that it avoids making an argument and more points to the history of the ideas and how earlier thinkers and saints thought about this question of eternal damnation and salvation of all men. But it does make a very important central point: it does not seem that Jesus really cared about us being certain of eternal salvation (or damnation!) as much as he seemed to care that we considered the possibility of eternal damnation as real and thus lived our lives holding to that possibility, at least for the sake of us not becoming prideful in our assurance of salvation. Coming from a Reformed background, that made me think a lot about the way I've seen salvation (both personal and of man in general) being discussed in the Christian circles I've been a part of. I'm not giving it 5 stars because I think it repeats its points sometimes and the "carefulness" of von Balthasar can get a bit annoying at some points, though I do think he made the right choice. I suppose that in terms of content it's 5 stars, but considering the form of the book I end up giving it 4 overall.
In the end I suppose the conclusion I take from this is: surely God's goodness and grace is enough to save all men, regardless of sin, evil or hell. Nevertheless, we are called to believe hell and damnation as a real possibility. Thus we can and should hope that God will bring all creation and men to Him, for He is surely capable, and if He can call us and save us (and by us I mean any man, from his personal point of view and considering his personal relationship with God), then we know He can do so for anyone else, regardless of how badly they can seem to us. And that hope is enough when considering the matter of the salvation of all men; the work we are called to must be done regardless of the end result - which we do not (and cannot) know anything about.
Below are some of the quotes which I think capture the general points of the book:
"All New Testament and theological talk about hell has but one point: To bring man to come to grips with his life in view of the real possibility of eternal ruin and to understand revelation as a demand of the utmost seriousness."
"If someone asks us, "Will all men be saved?" we answer in line with the Gospel: I do not know. I have no certainty whatsoever. That means just as well that I have no certainty whatsoever that all men will not be saved."
"God is all that is good, and God has made all that is made, and God loves all that he has made. And if any man or woman ceases to love any of his fellow Christians, then he loves none, for he does not love all."
"... we can never place too much trust in the good God, who is so poweful and merciful! We receive from him as much as we hope from him."
P.S.: I think it is quite silly that some people find this book controversial given how it is written. To consider speculation, as careful as is done in this work, to be a mistake, is a bizarre (though unfortunately common) hill to die on. He even brings up the point about such matters not being ideal for discussion with those uninitiated, which I can only thus suppose are the people who get all up in arms about the possibility of all creatures made in the image of God being eventually reconciled into His Goodness. The horror!
August 13, 2024
What can I say about Von Balthasar? His writing is not for the faint of heart. His sentences are often eight lines long, his paragraphs are longer than his pages. He is deeply dense. I was struck that it (my first foray into modernist theology/philosophy) was difficult to read except in an environment in which I could concentrate. Although his chapters range in length from digestible and episodic, yet sophisticated, 4-5 page explorations of a question to 20 page treatises, he is more dense, in my view, than Kant. He discusses profound topics, but somehow is surprisingly thin with its thesis; the critics and defenders do not misrepresent Von Balthasar.
His thesis here, all his cards of which he lays out in Chapter 2, is not to argue that everyone goes to heaven, but that next to nobody goes to hell. His Biblical evidence for this, at first, seems worth considering, but, upon further examination, in my view, can mostly be dismissed. Indeed, much of Von Balthasar's argument is to toy around with the definition of hope so as to permit the expectation of near-universal salvation to mesh with an orthodox view that one can theoretically still be damned. Speaking generally, once the thesis is densely established in Chapter 2, the book is substantively thin thereafter, discussing considerations which are marginal to his famous, central theme.
He cuts deeply at Augustine's and Aquinas's ideas on the massa damnata, sympathetically so. He raises fair objections on the absured idea that those in heaven will find joy in the torments of the damned and belittles that those who take the view of the massa damnata are often assured of their own salvation.
Von Balthasar's 5th chapter, on self-judgement and one's own choice of condemnation, as well as Chapter 9, serve as timely counterbalances to those who would construe him as advocating for some strict form of universal salvation. Other subsequent chapters offer interesting discussions about different topics which only loosely relate to his thesis (Chapters 7 and especially 8, for instance). Chapter 10 strikes me as incoherent. Why speak philosophically about Satan when, at least in the 2020s, a cottage industry of exorcist literature is in vogue, one which offers to provide 'battlefield' accounts of the nature of demons? Theory can explore rightly or wrongly to any given extent, but the experience of exorcists is, perhaps, the closest thing to laboratory data that a theologian can obtain regarding the spiritual.
The Ignatius Press edition also includes Von Balthasar's Short Discourse on Hell, which adds some lovely new rhetoric (Ch. 2 & 7) and considerations but few new ideas, including an additional pithy rebuke toward Augustine and Aquinas (Ch. 4 & 5), as well as a fresh consideration of Romans 9:3-4 (Ch. 6). Additionally, an appendix discusses Origen's controversial concept of Apokatastasis, but I was either checked out of the book by then or it was above my pay grade.
So am I a quasi-universalist now? No. I remain agnostic on this question. I'd like for Von Balthasar to be right, that it is very hard for one to be sent to hell, but his scriptural case is not terribly convincing and I am not about to hedge my bets on his theory.
His thesis here, all his cards of which he lays out in Chapter 2, is not to argue that everyone goes to heaven, but that next to nobody goes to hell. His Biblical evidence for this, at first, seems worth considering, but, upon further examination, in my view, can mostly be dismissed. Indeed, much of Von Balthasar's argument is to toy around with the definition of hope so as to permit the expectation of near-universal salvation to mesh with an orthodox view that one can theoretically still be damned. Speaking generally, once the thesis is densely established in Chapter 2, the book is substantively thin thereafter, discussing considerations which are marginal to his famous, central theme.
He cuts deeply at Augustine's and Aquinas's ideas on the massa damnata, sympathetically so. He raises fair objections on the absured idea that those in heaven will find joy in the torments of the damned and belittles that those who take the view of the massa damnata are often assured of their own salvation.
Von Balthasar's 5th chapter, on self-judgement and one's own choice of condemnation, as well as Chapter 9, serve as timely counterbalances to those who would construe him as advocating for some strict form of universal salvation. Other subsequent chapters offer interesting discussions about different topics which only loosely relate to his thesis (Chapters 7 and especially 8, for instance). Chapter 10 strikes me as incoherent. Why speak philosophically about Satan when, at least in the 2020s, a cottage industry of exorcist literature is in vogue, one which offers to provide 'battlefield' accounts of the nature of demons? Theory can explore rightly or wrongly to any given extent, but the experience of exorcists is, perhaps, the closest thing to laboratory data that a theologian can obtain regarding the spiritual.
The Ignatius Press edition also includes Von Balthasar's Short Discourse on Hell, which adds some lovely new rhetoric (Ch. 2 & 7) and considerations but few new ideas, including an additional pithy rebuke toward Augustine and Aquinas (Ch. 4 & 5), as well as a fresh consideration of Romans 9:3-4 (Ch. 6). Additionally, an appendix discusses Origen's controversial concept of Apokatastasis, but I was either checked out of the book by then or it was above my pay grade.
So am I a quasi-universalist now? No. I remain agnostic on this question. I'd like for Von Balthasar to be right, that it is very hard for one to be sent to hell, but his scriptural case is not terribly convincing and I am not about to hedge my bets on his theory.
October 5, 2017
I’d certainly call this a book of two halves—and personally, I preferred part two.
The first part, *Dare We Hope*, is Von Balthasar’s exploration of the two stream of thought that Scripture and the Saints put before us about Universal Judgement and Universal Salvation. It’s a deep, though brief, survey and he obviously knows what he’s talking about; displaying a thorough knowledge of the musings and expositions of the Church Saints (which he focuses on more than the scriptures themselves).
However, I found this part really difficult to follow. With great pains I managed to (just about) follow his train of thought—and key paragraphs do help summarise along the way. But it was tough going. Maybe it’s my lack of knowledge this exposes, but I do feel this section could have been better written and explained.
The Second part, *A Short Discourse On Hell*, however, was a different case altogether. This section is Von Balthasar’s response to those who were alarmed/confused by the Hope of Redemption that was put forward in *Dare We Hope?*.
This section was written in a much more accessible style, in my opinion. And—probably because it was written to refute/clarify Von Balthasar’s position to his critics—it does a better job a putting the tension of Redemptive Hope across.
There’s no clear answers here though, regarding Hell or Salvation. But that is precisely the thrust of Von Balthasar’s insight. All we have is a tension between the possibility of Hell and Redemption. This tension must be lived in, accepted, and walked through with Hope; and not a self-inclined hope, but a Hope for others.
None of us have a perfect knowledge—a certainty—about the things regarding the final judgement. Scripture just presents us with the possibilities, but never any clear answers on “who”, or “how many”, or the “how long” regarding Hell. None of us have been given special access to seeing a definitive list of names. As Von Balthasar’ posits, using a variety of Saints, any clear knowledge in this regard would be dangerous to our own Spiritual Health, leading some to dangerous arrogance (for those who feel certain to be in), and our Love and Charity to others (leading is to exclude or demonise those we believe to be out).
All scripture says is that Jesus is both judge and saviour of all, and that all will be judged. And so we are called to Hope in the perfect judgement of Jesus’ all humanity, including ourselves, as we walk between the choices placed before us.
Overall; tough going, but gives much to ponder. And as a text (and author) that I see getting cited frequently in books on Eschatology, it was definitely worth the read.
—Tristan Sherwin, author of *Love: Expressed*
The first part, *Dare We Hope*, is Von Balthasar’s exploration of the two stream of thought that Scripture and the Saints put before us about Universal Judgement and Universal Salvation. It’s a deep, though brief, survey and he obviously knows what he’s talking about; displaying a thorough knowledge of the musings and expositions of the Church Saints (which he focuses on more than the scriptures themselves).
However, I found this part really difficult to follow. With great pains I managed to (just about) follow his train of thought—and key paragraphs do help summarise along the way. But it was tough going. Maybe it’s my lack of knowledge this exposes, but I do feel this section could have been better written and explained.
The Second part, *A Short Discourse On Hell*, however, was a different case altogether. This section is Von Balthasar’s response to those who were alarmed/confused by the Hope of Redemption that was put forward in *Dare We Hope?*.
This section was written in a much more accessible style, in my opinion. And—probably because it was written to refute/clarify Von Balthasar’s position to his critics—it does a better job a putting the tension of Redemptive Hope across.
There’s no clear answers here though, regarding Hell or Salvation. But that is precisely the thrust of Von Balthasar’s insight. All we have is a tension between the possibility of Hell and Redemption. This tension must be lived in, accepted, and walked through with Hope; and not a self-inclined hope, but a Hope for others.
None of us have a perfect knowledge—a certainty—about the things regarding the final judgement. Scripture just presents us with the possibilities, but never any clear answers on “who”, or “how many”, or the “how long” regarding Hell. None of us have been given special access to seeing a definitive list of names. As Von Balthasar’ posits, using a variety of Saints, any clear knowledge in this regard would be dangerous to our own Spiritual Health, leading some to dangerous arrogance (for those who feel certain to be in), and our Love and Charity to others (leading is to exclude or demonise those we believe to be out).
All scripture says is that Jesus is both judge and saviour of all, and that all will be judged. And so we are called to Hope in the perfect judgement of Jesus’ all humanity, including ourselves, as we walk between the choices placed before us.
Overall; tough going, but gives much to ponder. And as a text (and author) that I see getting cited frequently in books on Eschatology, it was definitely worth the read.
—Tristan Sherwin, author of *Love: Expressed*
July 19, 2024
A FAMED CATHOLIC THEOLOGIAN HOLDS OUT A "UNIVERSALIST" HOPE
Hans Urs von Balthasar (1905-1988) was a Swiss Catholic theologian and priest, who had been nominated by John Paul II to become a cardinal, but he died two days before his ordination. He has written many other books, such as 'Engagement with God: The Drama of Christian Discipleship,' 'Mysterium Paschale: The Mystery of Easter,' 'A Theology of History,' etc.
He points out, "in the New Testament, two series of statements run along side by side in such a way that a synthesis of both is neither permissible nor achievable: the first series speaks of being lost for all eternity; the second, of God's will, and ability, to save all men." (Pg. 29)
He asserts that we cannot say that God "created" eternal punishment; "no one but man can be blamed for its existence." (Pg. 53-54) He also notes that no one can be so sure of his own standing in grace that he cannot be mistaken about his own salvation. (Pg. 86)
He quotes Walter Kaspar, "Neither Holy Scripture nor the Church's Tradition of faith asserts with certainty of any man that he is actually in hell." (Pg. 164) He makes the suggestion that God does not condemn anyone, but "the man who irrevocably refuses love condemns himself." (Pg. 165)
After citing numerous biblical passages, he states, "I claim nothing more than this: that these statements give us a right to have hope for all men, which simultaneously implies that I see no need to take a step from the threats to the positing of a hell occupied by our brothers and sisters, through which our hopes would come to naught." (Pg. 187)
He concludes, "Karl Rahner is therefore right when he says: "We have... the DUTY TO HOPE for the salvation of all men and the principle of the real possibility of becoming eternally lost.' ... there should also be equal stress on encouragement to hopeful and trusting surrender to God's infinite mercy." (Pg. 212-213)
'
This book is a very significant---and surprising, from so eminent a Catholic theologian---addition to the literature supporting (or "leaning toward") universalism.
Hans Urs von Balthasar (1905-1988) was a Swiss Catholic theologian and priest, who had been nominated by John Paul II to become a cardinal, but he died two days before his ordination. He has written many other books, such as 'Engagement with God: The Drama of Christian Discipleship,' 'Mysterium Paschale: The Mystery of Easter,' 'A Theology of History,' etc.
He points out, "in the New Testament, two series of statements run along side by side in such a way that a synthesis of both is neither permissible nor achievable: the first series speaks of being lost for all eternity; the second, of God's will, and ability, to save all men." (Pg. 29)
He asserts that we cannot say that God "created" eternal punishment; "no one but man can be blamed for its existence." (Pg. 53-54) He also notes that no one can be so sure of his own standing in grace that he cannot be mistaken about his own salvation. (Pg. 86)
He quotes Walter Kaspar, "Neither Holy Scripture nor the Church's Tradition of faith asserts with certainty of any man that he is actually in hell." (Pg. 164) He makes the suggestion that God does not condemn anyone, but "the man who irrevocably refuses love condemns himself." (Pg. 165)
After citing numerous biblical passages, he states, "I claim nothing more than this: that these statements give us a right to have hope for all men, which simultaneously implies that I see no need to take a step from the threats to the positing of a hell occupied by our brothers and sisters, through which our hopes would come to naught." (Pg. 187)
He concludes, "Karl Rahner is therefore right when he says: "We have... the DUTY TO HOPE for the salvation of all men and the principle of the real possibility of becoming eternally lost.' ... there should also be equal stress on encouragement to hopeful and trusting surrender to God's infinite mercy." (Pg. 212-213)
'
This book is a very significant---and surprising, from so eminent a Catholic theologian---addition to the literature supporting (or "leaning toward") universalism.
March 14, 2018
I read this shortly after finishing Thomas Talbott's The Inescapable Love of God. Balthasar's book is considerably more difficult to read, and his breadth of theological thinking and reading is vast. More than that, the second edition is expanded by something like a hundred pages, in some of which he takes his critics to task for not reading carefully what he said in the first edition, and adds chapters that weren't in the original.
For all that, I'm not sure that he adds anything more to Talbott's book - for me. Balthasar, at least in translation, writes in a dense fashion, with lengthy sentences full of corners and by-paths. I'm sure his work is more strongly argued than Talbott's but in the end it's very hard work reading him.
Nevertheless, his book is a valuable addition to the subject, and for all my quibbles, I'm (probably) glad I read it...! In the end, of course, he can say with no more certainty than Talbott and many others, including a great number of the Church Fathers, that all will be saved, or that is no hell. Equally, we can say with no certainty that certain people are in Hell, or that we are necessarily amongst those who are saved without any further need to worry ourselves. God is the one in whom justice and mercy combine; he is the one who balances these out perfectly (something we're not good at doing).
One great thing about both these book is that they clear away the awfulness of the doctrines that say certain people are predestined to Hell (and equally, certain people are predestined to eternal life). If for nothing else, they're both worth reading.
For all that, I'm not sure that he adds anything more to Talbott's book - for me. Balthasar, at least in translation, writes in a dense fashion, with lengthy sentences full of corners and by-paths. I'm sure his work is more strongly argued than Talbott's but in the end it's very hard work reading him.
Nevertheless, his book is a valuable addition to the subject, and for all my quibbles, I'm (probably) glad I read it...! In the end, of course, he can say with no more certainty than Talbott and many others, including a great number of the Church Fathers, that all will be saved, or that is no hell. Equally, we can say with no certainty that certain people are in Hell, or that we are necessarily amongst those who are saved without any further need to worry ourselves. God is the one in whom justice and mercy combine; he is the one who balances these out perfectly (something we're not good at doing).
One great thing about both these book is that they clear away the awfulness of the doctrines that say certain people are predestined to Hell (and equally, certain people are predestined to eternal life). If for nothing else, they're both worth reading.
July 16, 2019
Much of this goes over my head by a considerable margin. But it is an extremely rigorous exploration of an extremely thorny theological problem, and part of its merit is that it reinforces how thorny the problem in fact is. (i.e. if you're not at all troubled by the idea of an eternal hell for the majority of humanity, you might not be doing a great job practicing Christian charity.)
All to the good. But I've got to say that "Erasing Hell" by Francis Chan is a significantly easier version of the problem that, to my mind, gets to the same theological place without all the history and polemic. Of course if you're interested in the history, this is the book to go to, but if a practical theological answer is all you want, well, you know. (At one point, Chan says something like, "Some people call themselves 'Hopeful Universalists.' Now if this just means that they hope that all people will be saved, sure, we all hope that way." Which is interestingly not what ol' H.U.v.B's opponents say. Also interesting: Chan's book is in response to Rob Bell, who picked up and ran with the 'hope' that von Balthasar refuses to allow to be a 'certainty.')
There are other good things. Consider the following: "Love itself is crisis: to the extent that it is truth, it contains justice within itself, which is why Jesus, in his disputations with those lacking in love, can just as well say that he (as love) 'judges not' as that he (as truth) 'judges.'" Pretty good writing. Pretty energetic mental cardio.
All to the good. But I've got to say that "Erasing Hell" by Francis Chan is a significantly easier version of the problem that, to my mind, gets to the same theological place without all the history and polemic. Of course if you're interested in the history, this is the book to go to, but if a practical theological answer is all you want, well, you know. (At one point, Chan says something like, "Some people call themselves 'Hopeful Universalists.' Now if this just means that they hope that all people will be saved, sure, we all hope that way." Which is interestingly not what ol' H.U.v.B's opponents say. Also interesting: Chan's book is in response to Rob Bell, who picked up and ran with the 'hope' that von Balthasar refuses to allow to be a 'certainty.')
There are other good things. Consider the following: "Love itself is crisis: to the extent that it is truth, it contains justice within itself, which is why Jesus, in his disputations with those lacking in love, can just as well say that he (as love) 'judges not' as that he (as truth) 'judges.'" Pretty good writing. Pretty energetic mental cardio.
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