Clarity: Why Does a Loving God Send People to Hell?

Part of the Clarity Series: Building a Christian Worldview


In 1829, George Wilson was convicted of robbing a U.S. mail carrier and sentenced to death. However, public outcry led President Andrew Jackson to issue Wilson a pardon. But Wilson did something unthinkable—he refused it. The case went to the Supreme Court, and Chief Justice John Marshall wrote these striking words:

“A pardon is a deed… The value of the pardon must be determined by the receiver. It has no value apart from that which the receiver gives it… Therefore, George Wilson must die.”

The pardon was real, but Wilson’s refusal sealed his fate.

This story helps frame the difficult question we’re exploring in today’s Clarity post: Why would a loving God send people to hell?

It’s a hard question—one that makes us uncomfortable. We recoil at the thought of eternal separation or torment. Even for people we disagree with, the idea of hell is almost too much to bear. If we feel this way, how could God possibly send anyone there?

But maybe we need to rethink the question. In a sin-corrupted world, suffering is already normal—death is the natural end for everyone without divine intervention. Even the universe is winding down toward decay. So perhaps the better question is this: Why does God offer a way out?

And if He does…Why do some reject His pardon?

To answer that, we need to explore three questions:

1. What does the Bible say about hell?
2. Why is hell necessary?
3. How do we avoid it?

1. What Does the Bible Say About Hell?

Hell is not a peripheral idea in Scripture. Jesus Himself spoke about it often—especially in connection to judgment.

In Matthew 25, He describes the final judgment and says that those who fail to live out His values of compassion and justice will go to “eternal punishment,” while the righteous will enter “eternal life.” Hell is described as exclusion (being thrown out), darkness (separation from God’s light), and destruction (Matthew 10:28).

Hell wasn’t originally made for people—it was created for Satan and the rebellious angels (Matthew 25:41). But those who reject God’s character and refuse to bear His image end up there as well. It’s not about a single mistake—it’s about a life lived in rejection of God’s grace and authority.

While theologians debate whether hell involves eternal conscious torment or ultimate destruction (conditional immortality), the central truth remains: Hell is real. And it’s tragic.


2. Why Is Hell Necessary?

Let’s consider two reasons:

First: Hell is justice.

Imagine watching someone abuse your child or grandchild. You would do anything to protect them—and demand justice. God’s love includes justice. He doesn’t ignore evil.

Sin corrupts creation, and part of restoring all things means dealing with evil—removing it from His New Creation. Hell holds spiritual beings and people accountable for unrepentant rebellion. It’s not about cruelty—it’s about protection and justice.

Second: Hell separates rebels from the Kingdom.

In Luke 19, Jesus tells a parable of a king and ten servants. One servant refuses to serve the king and is ultimately grouped with the rebels.

This story isn’t just about punishment. It’s about allegiance. God’s New Creation is for those who recognize Jesus as King. Hell is not arbitrary; it’s the logical outcome for those who refuse God’s rule.

We understand this in our world. Treason has consequences. So does rejecting the Lordship of Jesus.

3. How Do We Avoid Hell?

The answer is simple—but not easy. Declare Jesus as King.

This is why repentance, confession, and baptism matter so much in the life of a Christian. We turn away from our old lives, publicly acknowledge Jesus as Lord, and pledge our loyalty to Him.

Then we live that out—day by day—aligning our lives with His.

What about those who’ve never heard about Jesus?

Romans 2 suggests they may be judged by what they do know. But Scripture consistently shows the clearest path is through hearing, believing, and following Jesus.

That’s why we support missions, preach the gospel, and share our faith—we want people to be confident in their salvation.

Why Do People Reject God’s Pardon?

Why would someone—like George Wilson—refuse rescue?

Because, at the heart of it, they want to be their own authority. They don’t want a King. They want to do what seems right in their own eyes—just like in the days of the Judges.

God honors that choice. He gives people what they want—even when it breaks His heart.

Our Calling: Love People into the Kingdom

Our role is not to judge and condemn but to proclaim and love.

We don’t weaponize hell—we weep over it.

• We pray.
• We share.
• We hope.

Because hell is a terrible reality, and it should bring tears to our eyes. That’s why we do what we can to love people into God’s Kingdom.

Hell is the result of not wanting Jesus to be King.

If we reject Jesus as King, we can’t be part of His Kingdom—and we won’t experience the joy of His New Creation.

Your Challenge: Do two things this week:

1. Pray for someone who needs Jesus.

2. Reaffirm your loyalty to King Jesus.

Next in the Clarity Series:

Stay with us as we continue exploring how a Christian worldview helps us face life’s toughest questions with confidence, compassion, and clarity.

The Justice and Comfort of God: The Downfall of the Oppressor

Text: Nahum 1:9–15

What kind of God steps into the darkness for the sake of His people?

Nine months after SEAL Team Six took out Osama bin Laden, they carried out another extraordinary mission. Jessica Buchanan, an American aid worker, had been kidnapped by Somali pirates. In the dead of night, two dozen SEALs parachuted into southern Somalia, killed nine armed captors, and rescued her—all without a single American casualty.

What happened next is even more powerful. Jessica later shared that after her rescue, the SEALs had her lie down, then formed a human shield by lying on top of her. Why? Because there was still the threat of more armed terrorists in the area. These men had already risked their lives to save her, and now they were laying down over her to protect her until the helicopters came.

To the world, that moment was extraordinary. But for the SEALs, it was simply what they do—because it’s who they are.

That’s what Nahum wants us to see about God. In Nahum 1, Judah was surrounded by a brutal empire. Assyria seemed unstoppable. Their cruelty was legendary. And yet, God declared that the oppressor would fall, the yoke would be broken, and His people would be free again.

Why? Because it’s what He does—because it’s who He is.

Nahum gives us a vision of a God who is not distant or indifferent, but one who rescues, redeems, and restores. And in this short but powerful passage, we witness both judgment on evil and hope for God’s people.

The Futility of Evil Schemes (Nahum 1:9–10)

“Why are you scheming against the Lord?” Nahum asks. Assyria had set itself against God’s people—and in doing so, against God Himself. But their power, their alliances, their strategies—none of it could stand. Their downfall was inevitable.

Verse 10 paints the image clearly, even if it’s difficult to translate. They’ll be tangled in thorns, stumbling like drunkards, burned up like dry stubble. It’s vivid, poetic language for a simple truth: no matter how powerful evil appears, it cannot outlast the justice of God.

We may not always understand the timing, but the promise is firm: the wicked will not win. This is the hope we hold onto as we await the return of King Jesus—who will bring justice and restore all things.

The Power and Promise of God’s Justice (Nahum 1:11–14)

Verse 11 introduces the one behind Assyria’s evil schemes. Most commentators identify this as a wicked king—an advisor leading the empire into oppression and violence. But in verse 12, God Himself speaks: “This is what the Lord says…”

This is the only time in Nahum we hear that familiar prophetic refrain. And what follows is God’s declaration: Assyria may be great in number and strength, but they will be cut down. The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

Here’s the hard part: God says He used Assyria to discipline Judah. That’s difficult to process, but it’s consistent with covenant language throughout the Old Testament. God allowed hardship—not because He delighted in suffering, but because He was shaping and correcting His people. Yet even that had a limit. God promises: “I will afflict you no more.” (v. 12)

God then issues a military-style command. The word “commanded” in verse 14 carries the weight of a king’s decree. The dynasty will be ended. Their gods will be shattered. Their grave is ready. This isn’t symbolic—it’s exactly what happened. The Assyrian empire fell, never to rise again.

The Celebration of the Redeemed (Nahum 1:15)

The tone changes in the final verse. There, on the mountains, is a messenger bringing good news: peace has come!

This echoes Isaiah 52:7, which Paul quotes in Romans 10:15: “How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news.” In Nahum’s context, it’s the good news of Assyria’s defeat and Judah’s redemption.

Even though the final collapse hadn’t yet occurred, the announcement of it was cause for celebration. Judah was told to resume its festivals, to keep the vows made in desperate prayer. Deliverance had come.

This peace wasn’t just the end of violence—it was the restoration of wholeness. It was shalom: the return of what sin and oppression had fractured. That’s the peace God promises His people.

So live like it’s already here.

What This Means for Us

Nahum isn’t just about ancient Assyria—it’s about God’s judgment on all evil. His people have found comfort in this book across centuries, from Babylon to Rome. And we find comfort in it today.

We still live in a world where injustice, violence, and oppression seem to reign. Sometimes it even feels like God is silent or distant. But Nahum reminds us: God sees, God cares, and God will act.

Yes, some hardships are the result of our own disobedience. But many come simply from living in a broken world. Either way, they are not outside of God’s sovereignty. Paul’s “thorn in the flesh” in 2 Corinthians 12 wasn’t removed. But God used it to shape his faith and remind him that God’s power is made perfect in weakness.

So trust God in every circumstance. Whether in hardship or joy, loss or triumph, trust that God is at work—for your good and for His glory.

And celebrate the Gospel! Jesus has already won the decisive battle. The cross and the resurrection were our D-Day. Now we live in that in-between time—awaiting the full arrival of VE-Day, when Christ returns, evil is fully destroyed, and peace reigns.

In the meantime, we worship. We proclaim. We live in hope.

Final Thought

We worship a God who does not ignore evil. He sees every injustice, hears every cry, and promises that one day He will make all things right.

The downfall of the oppressor is not just a historical event—it’s a gospel pattern. God breaks the chains of the enemy, rescues His people, and invites them into peace.

So when the weight of the world feels heavy, when evil seems to have the last word, remember Nahum’s message: The victory belongs to God. Evil will fall. Peace will come.

And until that day, we live by faith, we celebrate the good news, and we rest in the refuge of our Rescuer.

Because rescue isn’t just what He does—it’s who He is.

Wrestling with Hebrews 10:26

Dear friends, if we deliberately continue sinning after we have received knowledge of the truth, there is no longer any sacrifice that will cover these sins. — Hebrews 10:26 (NLT)

If you’ve ever stumbled across Hebrews 10:26, you might’ve felt a chill run down your spine. I know I have. It’s one of those verses that stops you in your tracks: “No longer any sacrifice that will cover these sins?” Does that mean salvation can slip through our fingers if we keep messing up?

A friend recently reached out, deeply worried that habitual sin might disqualify them from salvation. That concern is real and worth taking seriously. So, let’s walk through this verse together and explore the truth the author of Hebrews is driving at.

The Context: A Letter to the Pressured

First, a little context helps. Hebrews was written to Jewish Christians who were feeling the heat—persecution, hardship, and social pressure were pushing them to abandon their faith in Jesus and return to the familiar safety of the Old Testament rituals. Throughout the letter, the author urges them to see Jesus as the superior high priest, whose once-for-all sacrifice surpasses the old system (Hebrews 10:10–14).

By the time we get to chapter 10, the tone is urgent yet hopeful: Hold fast to your faith. Don’t give up.

Then we hit verses 26–27:

Dear friends, if we deliberately continue sinning after we have received knowledge of the truth, there is no longer any sacrifice that will cover these sins. There is only the terrible expectation of God’s judgment and the raging fire that will consume his enemies. (NLT)

Wow! That’s scary to think about.

A Hypothetical Gut Punch

But here’s what I think is going on: this isn’t about losing salvation every time we struggle with sin. It’s a warning—not a final verdict. A wake-up call, not a declaration of doom.

What do I mean by that?

Look at the flow of the chapter. In verses 23–25, the author encourages the believers to “hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering,” to “stir up one another to love and good works,” and to keep meeting together. These are positive exhortations to persevere.

Then verse 26 introduces a sharp contrast: If you walk away from this—if you reject the truth after knowing it, if you sin willfully in the sense of turning your back on Jesus—what’s left? If you reject the only true sacrifice, there’s no other place to turn. No backup plan. No alternative Savior.

This isn’t about stumbling, struggling, or even falling into repeated sin. It’s about a deliberate, decisive rejection of the gospel after fully understanding it.

A helpful example comes from John 6:67–69:

Then Jesus turned to the Twelve and asked, “Are you also going to leave?”

Simon Peter replied, “Lord, to whom would we go? You have the words that give eternal life. We believe, and we know you are the Holy One of God.” (NLT)

Even when the teaching was hard, the disciples stayed because they had experienced the life found only in Jesus. That’s the heart behind Hebrews 10:26—it’s urging us not to walk away from the only source of life.

Apostasy, Not Struggle

It’s worth noting that the Greek word for “deliberately” (hekousiōs) refers to a willful, persistent rejection. Think apostasy: someone who has truly tasted the truth and then says, “No thanks,” and walks away entirely. That’s different from someone fighting a habitual sin—whether it’s anger, lust, envy, or something else. For those struggles, the Bible promises grace and forgiveness (1 John 1:9).

Hebrews 10:26 isn’t about God keeping score until you’re disqualified. It’s about the seriousness of rejecting Jesus altogether. It’s asking, “If you walk away from Him, where else can you go?”

Reconciling with Grace

Seeing Hebrews 10:26 this way helps us keep it in harmony with the rest of the New Testament. Consider John 10:28–29, where Jesus says no one can snatch His sheep from His hand. Or Romans 8:38–39, where Paul says nothing can separate us from God’s love. If Hebrews were saying salvation is lost every time we sin willfully, those promises would crumble.

But as a hypothetical warning, it fits. The message is: Don’t abandon Jesus—He’s the only way. Stay with Him.

To my friend concerned about their habitual sins, I’d say this: God isn’t waiting to pull the rug out from under you. Hebrews 10:26 isn’t about your daily struggles. It’s an encouragement to cling to Jesus when life gets hard and sin feels overwhelming. Keep fighting. Keep repenting. Keep relying on grace.

That’s what Hebrews 10 is really about.

Why It Matters

Hebrews is a letter of encouragement with a few sobering what-ifs. It’s for people like us—tempted to drift, prone to doubt, and in need of reminders to hold on. Verse 26 isn’t there to scare us into perfection. It’s there to show us what’s at stake if we walk away.

Jesus’ sacrifice is everything. There’s no Plan B—and there doesn’t need to be. He’s enough.

So, what do you think? Does this view of Hebrews 10:26 bring clarity or raise more questions? I’d love to hear your thoughts—drop them below or send me a message. Let’s keep wrestling with this together.

Clarity: What Happens When You Die?

Part of the Clarity Series: Building a Christian Worldview

In 2018, 18-year-old Renard Matthews was tragically shot and killed in his New Orleans neighborhood. At his wake, something unusual happened. Instead of being laid in a casket, his body was posed in a life-like scene: slouched in a chair, PlayStation controller in hand, sunglasses on, Doritos and root beer nearby, and NBA2K playing on the TV. The practice, called “extreme embalming,” aims to show people doing what they loved in life.

That desire is deeply human. We want our last memory of someone to reflect who they were—not just how they died, but how they lived. Behind that desire is also a belief: they’re in a better place now, doing what they love. The idea of a great golf course, garden, or video game lounge in the sky comforts us.

But it also raises a deeper question: What actually happens when you die?


Facing Death with Hope

Death is something we all face. Whether we’re grieving someone we’ve lost or preparing for our own eventual passing, we long for clarity—and hope.

This question has layers. As New Testament scholar N.T. Wright puts it, we’re really asking about life after life after death. In other words, what happens immediately after death? And what happens ultimately?

To answer that, we turn to 2 Corinthians 5:1–10, where the apostle Paul gives us a framework for understanding death—not just as an ending, but as a transition. Writing to a church that faced trials, persecution, and loss, Paul reminds them (and us) that this life is not the end of the story.


1. Our Hope (vv. 1–4)

Paul begins with a clear picture: this life is like living in a tent—temporary and fragile. But we have the hope of a permanent home, “a building from God, eternal in the heavens” (v. 1). That home isn’t an escape from our bodies—it’s the promise of resurrection.

Unlike pagan thought, where the body is something to be discarded, the Christian hope treasures both spirit and body. God created us as whole beings. So when we die, we’re not fully complete—we’re “naked,” Paul says (v. 3), waiting to be clothed with our resurrection bodies.

What happens when a Christian dies?

• We go to be with Jesus (see also Philippians 1:21–23).
• It’s a place of joy and rest.
• But it’s also temporary.

We wait for the final resurrection, when heaven and earth are renewed (Revelation 21), and we receive new, incorruptible bodies (1 Corinthians 15).

So our hope isn’t just going to heaven when we die. It’s being raised to new life in God’s New Creation—a world without pain, death, or sorrow. A world made right.

2. Our Confidence (vv. 5–8)

How can we be sure this will happen? Paul says we have a guarantee: the Holy Spirit.

The Spirit is God’s down payment—proof that we belong to Him and that He will finish what He started. While we live by faith and not by sight, we aren’t guessing or crossing our fingers. We’re living in covenant with a faithful God.

So whether we remain in our earthly bodies or leave them behind, our confidence is this: we will be with Jesus.

3. Our Responsibility (vv. 9–10)

Because we have this hope and confidence, Paul challenges us to live with purpose.

“So whether we are at home or away, we make it our aim to please Him.” (v. 9)

One day, we will all stand before the judgment seat of Christ—not for condemnation, but for evaluation. What we do in this life matters. Our lives now are the building blocks of eternity (see also 1 Corinthians 3:12–15).

This means…

• Living by faith.
• Living with love.
• Making disciples.
• Doing what pleases Jesus.

What About Those Who Don’t Follow Jesus?

You might be wondering: what happens to people who aren’t followers of Jesus?

The Bible doesn’t give us a lot of detail, but it does give us a warning. In Luke 16, Jesus tells the parable of the rich man and Lazarus. After death, there’s a separation between those who are with God and those who are not—and that separation cannot be crossed.

Jesus is clear: eternal life is found in Him. To be with Jesus in the Spirit is joy. To face judgment without Him is loss. That’s the hard reality—and the reason we share the gospel.

(We’ll talk more about this in next week’s post on the reality of hell.)

So, What Happens When You Die?

If you’re a follower of Jesus:

• When you die, your spirit goes to be with Jesus.

• You wait there with joy for the resurrection of your body.

• One day, you’ll live forever in the New Creation—whole, renewed, and in the presence of God.

If you’re not yet following Jesus, there is still time. Jesus invites you to trust Him, follow Him, and receive eternal life.

Your Challenge: Live with Eternity in Mind

Because eternity is real, live your life in anticipation of spending it with Jesus.

This week, do something that pleases Him:

1. Stop doing something that distracts from your purpose.

2. Start doing something that reflects Jesus to the world.

3. Love someone with compassion and grace.

Next in the Clarity Series:
If there’s life after death, what about the reality of hell? Stay tuned as we continue to build a biblical worldview to help us see clearly, live faithfully, and love deeply.

The Justice and Comfort of God: The Majesty of a Jealous God

Some of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met have also carried the deepest scars.

They are people whose lives have been marked by grief, trauma, or hardship—yet somehow, they radiate a gentleness, strength, and hope that can’t be faked. They remind me of people like William Cowper, the hymn writer who battled deep depression but penned timeless words of faith. Or Vincent van Gogh, who lived with mental anguish yet painted with unmatched vision. Or Charles Spurgeon, who preached through the haze of despair. Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King Jr., and Winston Churchill—leaders who carried the heavy burden of their nation’s suffering. Then there’s Joni Eareckson Tada, who became paralyzed in a diving accident but found profound purpose in her pain. And John Perkins, who endured beatings and threats as a civil rights leader and still proclaimed reconciliation.

What do these people have in common?

They were shaped, not in spite of their suffering, but through it.

“The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths… Beautiful people do not just happen.”
— Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

This idea is more than inspiring—it’s deeply biblical.

It’s especially visible in the Old Testament book of Nahum, one of the lesser-known prophets. Though short—just three chapters—Nahum gives us a profound and uncomfortable vision of God’s character. In Nahum 1:1–8, we see two divine attributes held together in tension: justice and mercy. He is the righteous Judge who will not let evil go unpunished, and at the same time, He is a refuge for the weary and the faithful.

When You Ask, "How Long, Lord?"

If you’ve ever looked around at the world and asked, “How long, Lord? How long will evil go unchecked? How long will oppression continue?”—then Nahum has something to say to you.

Nahum begins his prophecy with a vision. Not a gut feeling or a political hot take—but a divinely inspired word from God concerning Nineveh, the capital city of the Assyrian Empire. This wasn’t the first time Nineveh appeared in Scripture. A hundred years earlier, Jonah preached there, and the people repented. But by Nahum’s time, their repentance had faded, and their cruelty returned. Assyria was once again known for its brutality and injustice.

Nahum’s message, likely delivered around 650 B.C., came at a time when Judah was weak, Assyria was strong, and hope felt distant. Yet God spoke. He saw what was happening. And He promised that justice was coming.

That’s the first reminder we need: God sees everything—ancient and modern. No act of injustice goes unnoticed. Every nation and every person is accountable to Him.

The God Who Is Jealous, Just, and Powerful

Nahum doesn’t begin with what God does, but with who God is. He writes:

“The LORD is a jealous and avenging God… The LORD is slow to anger but great in power.” (Nahum 1:2–3)

That word “jealous” may rub us the wrong way, but it’s not describing petty envy. It’s the holy jealousy of a faithful spouse—an unyielding commitment to exclusive relationship. God wants His people to be loyal to Him, and He fiercely defends them when they’re threatened. His vengeance is not impulsive rage but righteous justice against real evil.

And yet, God is also patient. He gave Nineveh a century to turn back. His slowness to anger is mercy—but mercy has limits. When it’s time to act, He will.

Nahum uses poetic, awe-inspiring imagery to make his point: rivers dry up, mountains quake, the very earth trembles in God’s presence. The message is clear: no empire is too powerful, no injustice too entrenched, no enemy too great for God.

“Who can withstand His indignation? Who can endure His fierce anger?” (Nahum 1:6)

The answer? No one.

The God Who Is Good, Even in Trouble

“The LORD is good, a refuge in times of trouble. He cares for those who trust in Him.” (Nahum 1:7)

This is the kind of verse that shows up on coffee mugs—and it should! But don’t forget: this word of comfort comes right in the middle of a storm of judgment.

God’s goodness doesn’t mean He always spares us from trouble. It means we can trust Him in the trouble. Like a hidden cave in a thunderstorm, He is a refuge when life gets overwhelming. His care is not based on our performance but on His covenant love. He remains faithful, even when the world falls apart.

And yet, verse 8 brings us back to the other side of the coin:

“With an overwhelming flood He will make an end of Nineveh.” (Nahum 1:8)

Just as Assyria once overwhelmed other nations, now they will be overwhelmed. God's judgment is always just—He gives time for repentance, but when mercy is rejected, He acts with righteous precision.

So What Do We Do With This?

Nahum 1:1–8 isn’t just about Nineveh. It’s about us. Here are three takeaways for today:

1. Trust in God’s Justice

We live in a world full of injustice—from playground bullying to international war, from daily corruption to systemic evil. It can be tempting to lose heart or take matters into our own hands. But Nahum reminds us: God sees, and God will act. His justice may not follow our timeline, but it will never fail.

2. Find Your Refuge in God

When life falls apart—when the diagnosis comes, when the marriage breaks, when the finances collapse—run to the refuge. God may not shield you from the storm, but He will walk through it with you. He is good. He cares for those who trust in Him.

3. Examine Your Heart

It’s easy to cheer for Nineveh’s downfall and forget that we, too, can be unfaithful. Nahum’s message comforts the oppressed but also warns the comfortable. Are we living in allegiance to King Jesus? Or are we pursuing our own way?

God of Justice, God of Mercy

Nahum gives us a clear and powerful vision of who God is:

• A righteous Judge who will not let sin go unpunished.
• A loving Refuge who cares for His people.
• A sovereign King who rules over all creation.

Because of the cross and the empty tomb, we know that Jesus embodies both justice and mercy. He took our judgment upon Himself, and now offers Himself as our eternal refuge. One day He will return to make all things right. Until then, we live in the tension—with trust, hope, and worship.

Let’s worship Him for who He is—the God who brings justice to the wicked and comfort to the faithful.

Let’s run to the refuge.

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If this reflection encouraged you, share it or leave a comment below. And remember: in a world full of brokenness, Jesus is still King.