“Hell disappeared and no one noticed.”
With that terse observation, the late church historian Martin Marty summarized our attitude toward a vanishing doctrine that received a great deal of attention in previous generations. Hell is scarcely mentioned in most evangelical churches today. I must ask: When is the last time you heard a sermon or a serious Bible lesson on the topic? Sometimes it is given a quick mention, but yes, Marty is right, hell has disappeared, and we didn’t even notice.
But in November of 2025, the doctrine of hell received renewed attention when Kirk Cameron said (Part 1 and Part 2) that a good biblical argument could be made for conditional immortality: the teaching that eternal life is given to believers, but the unsaved are given eternal death; they are judged by God and thrown into the torments of hell, then vanish forever in the flames. They do not live in a conscious eternity but, justice having been served, they are annihilated.
Cameron’s video ignited a spirited debate; most of it fair, though some responders may have misunderstood what he was actually saying. Be that as it may, the doctrine of hell which disappeared without notice, has been given renewed attention. And well it should.
Years ago, I studied both sides of this subject and had to conclude that, on balance, the Bible teaches the historic view, namely that those who die as unbelievers will experience eternal conscious existence. I have often contemplated what this really means—do we actually believe what we say we do?
Critical Implications
The purpose of this blog post is not to defend the historic view, which has been ably done by others, but to have us stop and think about the implications of this view. Words are one thing, but trying to understand their implications is another. As for me, if I meditate on this doctrine for any length of time, it fills me with dread.
We have all experienced sharp pain that made us cry out in agony. I call to mind the throbbing pain of an abscess tooth that was so piercing I thought I was being driven out of my mind, but was eventually relieved when I took Tylenol. Now imagine not just physical pain but the mental torment of the wrath of God plaguing you moment by moment. You are reliving your own sin and deliberate disobedience, filled with anguish in a place described as a place of “unquenchable fire” (Matthew 3:12). No drugs are available to deaden the pain, so you long to vanish into nothingness but are unable to do so. Even after ten thousand years of torment, you would be no closer to the end of suffering the pangs of hell than you were on day one. And perhaps in your heightened agony, you have a clear memory of the family you once had on Earth and long to find comfort in their well-being, but you are condemned to eternally wonder about their fate (as did the tormented man in Hades in Luke 16:19–31).
Whether or not we agree with Dante’s description of the inside of hell, we must agree with the words he wrote above its gates: “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.” Nothing but endless existence without any goals to strive for, without any destination to arrive at, or any reason to survive—except that this is your divinely mandated eternal fate. You are in a constant state of death and darkness, apart from the presence of God (2 Thessalonians 1:8–9). Visualize excruciating loneliness, knowing that no one in heaven or hell is moved by your plight. Even if they are aware, they would deem your isolation to be just. You are isolated—forever. Forever.
The Faces We Know, The Fate We Dread
One day I was so overcome when studying the reality of hell that I walked out of our house and a neighbor I knew quite well was mowing his lawn. When I came toward him, he stopped the engine and I told him about hell and that he needed to repent. He was more open to the Gospel than I thought he might be and when he died, I do believe he had come to saving faith. But later when I witnessed to his wife, she was totally closed to the Gospel.
To all my brothers and sisters: Remember when we discuss eternal punishment, we are not just talking about the Hitlers and Stalins and child traffickers; we are talking about our neighbors who pay their bills, who would do anything to help us, and whose company we enjoy. We are talking about church members we sit next to who make a profession of faith that falls short of regeneration. These “good” people will also be in eternal torment described as a place of “weeping and gnashing of teeth” (Matthew 22:13).
Many years ago, I was speaking to a distraught father whose son died in an accident. The boy had not given any convincing reason to indicate he was a believer. The grieving father said to me, “If I get to heaven and my boy isn’t there, I’m going to ask God to send me to hell so I can be with him!” To this day, I can still visualize him as he wept with inconsolable grief. Of course, I compassionately explained as best I could that when we get to heaven, we will be with Christ and come to understand that God does only what is right and good and until then, all we can do is to quote the words of Abraham, “Shall not the Judge of all the earth do what is just?” (Genesis 18:25).
Though I didn’t mention this to him, it occurred to me that even if this father went to hell, he might never see his son. Jesus described it, as a place of “outer darkness” (Matthew 8:11–12). If we take that literally, or even in some symbolic sense, it is clear that eternal guilt, regret, and personal condemnation of unbelievers might have to be endured in darkness alone. Forever.
The night before I preached on the Great White Throne Judgment, which describes the scene of multitudes cast into the lake of fire, I could scarcely sleep. I was overcome visualizing what this is going to mean for millions, if not billions, of people; it was too much for me to comprehend. Nonetheless, I did preach knowing I could only describe but not really grasp what I was preaching about (See Revelation 20:11–15).
So, when we discuss hell, let us remember that the rich man in Hades who longed for a drop of water to cool his tongue is still waiting for that drop and is still tormented in that flame. And perhaps he still hopes the best for his brothers though their fate is forever unknown. Let us be sobered knowing that millions right now are on the verge of a terrifying eternity and don’t know it. Defending a doctrine is one thing; truly believing it is another.
The Doctrine Of Hell Leads Us To Worship
Yesterday, I was witnessing to a woman in a store and we were talking about the evil in the world. I said, “Well, truth be told, we all have evil in our hearts, we need a Savior!” She responded, “Oh, we need more than just one!” But as all of us know, only one person, Jesus, whom we joyfully worship, bore the torments of our hell to “deliver us from the wrath to come” (1 Thessalonians 1:10). The doctrine of hell magnifies the doctrine of grace.
I was asked to speak to employees at a business meeting and there I met a man who described his mother as a God-hater who died amid curses and great suffering. Seconds before she passed into the next life, she cried out in agony, screaming that she could “feel the flames.” Make whatever you wish out of that story, but how does he move beyond this horrid experience? He told me, “I can’t dwell on it; it is there in the back of my mind, but I no longer rehearse what happened. I have to leave her in the hands of a loving God who is just and good; a God whom I have trusted for my own salvation.”
Of course, we know that hell will not be the same for everyone; people will be judged on the basis of what they did with what they knew as Jesus made clear (Luke 12:46-48). As always, we have to leave our unknowns to God and be at peace with that which He does. We must continue to believe in the God who loves us and give Him praise and worship for sending His own Son so that we could enter into His blessedness. And we must remind everyone that this grace and forgiveness is freely given to everyone and anyone who sincerely believes. But at the same time, the warnings and descriptions of hell in Scripture were given to us that we might fear God and warn those who refuse His grace.
Many have weighed in on what Kirk Cameron, and several others throughout church history, have posited as a possibility. Let this discussion proceed with brokenness and tears. Al Mohler, Todd Friel, Ray Comfort, and others are modeling this approach well. Let us go and do all we can to “rescue the perishing and care for the dying” as the Gospel song admonishes us to do. And let us do so with compassion, and with fear and trembling. We witness knowing that for all who die as unbelievers, personal anguish will go on forever.
Forever.
