In reflecting upon how creation culminates in judgment, Ratzinger shares these observations:
"...the final phase of [creation] is based on spirit and freedom...it is by no means a neutral, cosmic drift; it includes responsibility. It does not happen of its own accord, like physical process, but is based on decisions. That is why the second coming of the Lord is not only salvation, not only the omega that sets everything right, but also judgment. Indeed at this stage we can actually define the meaning of the talk of judgment. It means precisely this, that the final stage of the world is not the result of a natural current but the result of responsibility that is grounded in freedom. This must also be regarded as the key to understanding why the New Testament clings fast, in spite of its message of grace, to the assertion that at the end men are judged "by their works" and that no one can escape giving an account of the way he has lived his life. There is a freedom that is not cancelled out even by grace and, indeed, is brought by it face to face with itself..."
Regular readers know that I attempt to hold together two theological commitments that sit in tension. First, a hopeful eschatology where God, in the end, is "all in all." Second, a fierce prophetic conviction that what we do here on earth matters and that God will judge the evils, injustices, and oppressions at work in the world. There are damnable things afoot, and much of it involves people who claim the name of Christ.
How are these tensions held in tension? Prophetic indictment and the wrath of God with a generous, hopeful vision of salvation?
What I believe is necessary is to repeatedly emphasize that wrath, hell, punishment, and judgment are not antithetical to God's love. These are, rather, relational terms that describe our distance from the love of God, even our self-exclusion. And given that "all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God" we all will face, as Paul describes in 1 Corinthians 3, a "day" where the moral quality of our lives will face a fiery examination. Salvation comes "through the fire," an ordeal everyone must undergo. No matter who you are, you will, in the end, face the music.
As Ratzinger observes, our freedom and responsibility before God are not "cancelled out even by grace." This accountability is the only way we can become truly and fully human. Becoming a human being is a grave concern and weighty task, and to reach that goal we have to assume that burden. Again, what we do with our lives and freedom matters. More, what we do affects others. We can make the lives of others easier or harder, lighter or heavier, blessed or cursed, healed or harmed, loved or wounded, cared for or abused, filled with light or cast into darkness. All this must be faced. Grace does not spare us this accounting or absolve us from taking responsibility for our lives. Rather, grace enables us to assume this responsibility, the price of our freedom and the cost of stepping into our humanity. To avoid Judgment Day, to avoid the weight of our freedom is, therefore, to avoid becoming a human being in all its fulness.
And if all this seems overly complicated, just reflect upon the love of a parent for a child. A loving parent will ask their child to assume responsibility for their actions and it often involves facing the consequences of their choices and mending the harms they have inflicted upon others. This is the only way the child can grow into their humanity. But is asking the child to assume responsibility for their lives antithetical to the parent's love? Of course not. In fact, it is the very expression of the parent's love. This isn't very complicated. And, as Jesus said, if we know how to give good gifts to our children how much greater will God's parenting be toward us.
Grace will not treat us as our sins deserve. But taking responsibility for your life cannot be evaded. Becoming a human being is a difficult grace.
