Understanding Hell as God’s Presence: An In-Depth Analysis of R. Zachary Manis’s Divine Presence Model

Introduction: Rethinking Everything We Know About Hell

For centuries, Christians have wrestled with one of the most troubling questions of faith: Why would a perfectly good and loving God permit some people to suffer eternally in hell? This question, known as the problem of hell, poses a serious challenge not only to the intellectual coherence of Christianity but also to the practical task of trusting in God. As R. Zachary Manis notes in his groundbreaking work Thinking Through the Problem of Hell: The Divine Presence Model, this is “no mere philosophical puzzle” but rather “a hindrance to many who are contemplating coming to the faith, and a source of doubt for many who profess it.”

The traditional understanding of hell presents God as actively consigning some people to eternal torment as punishment for their sins. This view, which Manis calls “traditionalism,” has dominated Christian thought for centuries. Yet it raises profound questions about God’s character. If God is all-powerful, doesn’t He have the ability to prevent this horrible fate? If God is perfectly loving, doesn’t He want to prevent it? Most troublingly, the traditional view suggests that God deliberately acts to bring about eternal suffering for some of His creatures. How can we reconcile this with the biblical declaration that “God is love” (1 John 4:8)?

These questions become even more pressing when we consider what Manis identifies as the three major problems with traditional views of hell. First is the problem of justice: How can finite sins committed during a brief earthly life warrant infinite punishment? The disproportion seems to violate our most basic understanding of justice. Second is the problem of love: How can a God who commands us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us then subject His own enemies to eternal torment? Third is what Manis calls the doxastic problem: How can believers genuinely worship, trust, and love a God who they believe will torture billions of people forever?

In response to these challenges, various alternative views have emerged. Some Christians have embraced universalism, the belief that ultimately all will be saved. Others have adopted annihilationism, the view that the wicked will simply cease to exist rather than suffer eternally. Still others have proposed what’s known as the choice model, suggesting that hell is essentially self-chosen separation from God rather than divine punishment. Each of these alternatives addresses some problems with traditionalism but, as Manis demonstrates, each faces significant biblical and theological difficulties of its own.

Enter the Divine Presence Model, a view that Manis argues can solve the problem of hell while remaining faithful to both Scripture and Christian tradition. This model proposes something revolutionary yet ancient: that hell is not a place of separation from God, nor a divinely imposed punishment, but rather the way that unrepentant sinners necessarily experience the very presence of God Himself. Heaven and hell, in this view, are not two different locations but two radically different ways of experiencing the same reality of God’s omnipresent love.

Part I: Understanding the Problem of Hell

The Philosophical Challenges

Before we can appreciate Manis’s solution, we must fully grasp the depth of the problem. The doctrine of hell as traditionally understood faces what seem to be insurmountable philosophical and theological challenges. These aren’t merely academic concerns raised by skeptics; they are genuine difficulties that trouble sincere believers who take both Scripture and reason seriously.

The problem of hell is actually more complex than it might initially appear. It’s not simply about reconciling God’s love with eternal punishment. Rather, as Manis explains, it involves multiple interconnected issues that touch on fundamental aspects of Christian theology: the nature of God, the purpose of creation, the meaning of justice, the scope of redemption, and the ultimate destiny of humanity. Each traditional attempt to address one aspect of the problem tends to create difficulties in other areas, like pressing down on one side of a waterbed only to see another side rise up.

Consider first the problem of justice in detail. Traditional Christianity teaches that those who die without accepting Christ will suffer conscious torment forever. But this raises serious questions about proportionality, a fundamental principle of justice recognized across cultures and throughout history. As Manis points out, even in human justice systems, we recognize that punishment should fit the crime. A person who steals a candy bar doesn’t receive the same sentence as someone who commits murder. Yet traditional views of hell suggest that finite sins—no matter how serious—warrant infinite punishment.

The standard response, dating back to theologians like Thomas Aquinas, is that sins against an infinite God warrant infinite punishment. But Manis demonstrates the fatal flaw in this reasoning: if the severity of punishment depends on the dignity of the one offended, then shouldn’t sins against innocent children or holy saints warrant greater punishment than sins against ordinary people? Our moral intuitions and legal systems reject this idea. We don’t give harsher sentences to those who assault police officers or judges simply because of their position. Justice focuses on the nature of the act and the harm done, not the status of the victim.

Furthermore, the traditional view faces what Manis calls the “problem of ignorance.” Many people throughout history have never heard the gospel. Others have heard distorted versions of it, or have encountered Christianity only through the harmful actions of those claiming to be Christians. Can a just God condemn people to eternal torment for failing to accept a message they never properly received? And what about those whose cultural conditioning, psychological makeup, or life experiences make it virtually impossible for them to accept Christian claims? The traditional answer—that God judges people according to the light they have—seems to undermine the necessity of explicit faith in Christ, creating theological tensions within traditionalism itself.

The problem of love presents equally serious challenges. Jesus commanded his followers to love their enemies, to bless those who curse them, to do good to those who hate them. He taught that God “causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous” (Matthew 5:45). The apostle Paul declared that love “keeps no record of wrongs” and “always perseveres” (1 Corinthians 13:5,7). Yet the traditional view of hell presents God as doing precisely what He commands us not to do: taking ultimate vengeance on His enemies, keeping an eternal record of wrongs, and giving up on the possibility of redemption.

This creates what Manis identifies as a devastating moral paradox. If eternal torture of enemies is actually good and just, then why does God command us not to do it? But if it’s wrong for us to torture our enemies, how can it be right for God to do so? The standard response—that God has prerogatives we don’t have—seems to introduce a double standard that undermines the very foundation of Christian ethics. After all, we’re called to imitate God, to be perfect as our heavenly Father is perfect. But the traditional view of hell suggests there are aspects of God’s character we must not imitate, creating an incoherent moral framework.

The Doxastic Problem: When Belief Becomes Unbearable

Perhaps the most psychologically devastating challenge is what Manis calls the doxastic problem—the problem of belief itself. This isn’t just about whether the doctrine of hell is true, but about what happens to believers who fully grasp and internalize what they claim to believe. The problem manifests in several ways, each presenting serious challenges to lived Christian faith.

First is the problem of worship. How can one genuinely worship and adore a Being who will torture billions of people forever? Imagine discovering that someone you deeply admired was secretly torturing people in their basement. Your admiration would instantly turn to horror and revulsion. Yet traditional Christianity asks believers to worship a God who, they believe, maintains an eternal torture chamber vastly worse than anything a human could devise. The cognitive dissonance this creates is profound. Many believers cope by simply not thinking about it, compartmentalizing their faith, or redefining terms to soften the harsh reality. But this kind of psychological denial suggests that, at some level, they recognize the moral problem with what they claim to believe.

Second is the problem of neighbor love. Jesus identified loving one’s neighbor as the second greatest commandment, inseparable from loving God. But how can one genuinely love neighbors while believing that God will torture them forever? Imagine a parent who believes their non-Christian child will be eternally tormented. The psychological burden is crushing. Some respond with frantic evangelistic efforts driven more by terror than love. Others retreat into emotional detachment, unable to fully invest in relationships they believe will end in eternal separation and suffering. Still others quietly abandon the traditional view, even if they can’t articulate an alternative.

Third is the problem of religious motivation. If people accept Christianity primarily to escape eternal torture, is their faith genuine? As Manis points out, this creates a coercive dynamic that undermines authentic relationship with God. It’s like a marriage proposal made at gunpoint—even if the person says yes, the coercion invalidates the genuineness of the consent. True love must be freely given, not extracted through threats of infinite punishment. Yet traditionalism seems to make fear of hell the primary motivator for faith, reducing the gospel to an ultimatum rather than an invitation.

Fourth is the problem of despair. For sensitive believers who take the traditional doctrine seriously, the psychological burden can become unbearable. They may experience what Manis calls “anticipatory survivor’s guilt,” a crushing sorrow at the thought of enjoying heavenly bliss while countless others suffer eternal torment. Some develop scrupulosity, an obsessive fear that they themselves might not be truly saved. Others experience what can only be described as theological trauma, a deep wound in their ability to trust God or experience divine love. The traditional doctrine, meant to inspire holy fear, instead produces psychological and spiritual damage that drives people away from faith.

Part II: Evaluating the Alternative Models

Universalism: The Hope That All Will Be Saved

Given these profound problems with traditionalism, it’s not surprising that alternative views have gained traction among thoughtful Christians. Universalism, the belief that ultimately all will be saved, offers perhaps the most radical departure from traditional teaching. Prominent defenders like Thomas Talbott, David Bentley Hart, and Robin Parry argue that God’s love and sovereignty guarantee universal salvation. After all, if God truly loves all people and desires all to be saved (1 Timothy 2:4), and if nothing can ultimately thwart God’s will, then surely all will eventually be reconciled to Him.

Universalists point to powerful biblical passages that seem to support their view. Paul declares that “as in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive” (1 Corinthians 15:22). He says God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ (2 Corinthians 5:19). Philippians 2:10-11 envisions every knee bowing and every tongue confessing that Jesus Christ is Lord. Colossians 1:20 speaks of God reconciling all things to himself through Christ. These and other passages, universalists argue, point toward the ultimate restoration of all creation.

Moreover, universalism elegantly solves the philosophical problems plaguing traditionalism. The problem of justice disappears because any punishment is temporary and remedial rather than eternal and retributive. The problem of love is resolved because God never gives up on anyone, persevering in love until all are won over. The doxastic problems evaporate because believers can worship without reservation a God who will ultimately save everyone, love their neighbors without the specter of eternal separation, embrace faith from genuine gratitude rather than fear, and anticipate heaven without survivor’s guilt.

Yet as attractive as universalism might be philosophically and emotionally, Manis identifies serious biblical and theological problems with it. Jesus himself spoke repeatedly of final judgment and eternal punishment. He warned of those who would be told “depart from me” at the last judgment (Matthew 25:41). He spoke of the sin against the Holy Spirit that would never be forgiven (Matthew 12:31-32). He described the final state of the wicked as a place “where their worm does not die and the fire is not quenched” (Mark 9:48). These aren’t isolated passages but recurring themes throughout Jesus’ teaching.

Furthermore, universalism seems to undermine human freedom and moral responsibility. If everyone will ultimately be saved regardless of their choices, then our decisions don’t ultimately matter. This creates what Manis calls the “problem of moral seriousness.” Why resist temptation if sin has no ultimate consequences? Why pursue holiness if everyone ends up in the same place? Universalists respond that our choices affect the journey even if not the destination, but this seems to minimize the biblical emphasis on the eternal significance of our earthly decisions.

Most problematically, universalism conflicts with nearly two thousand years of Christian tradition. While a few early church figures like Origen flirted with universal salvation, the overwhelming consensus of the church has affirmed that some will be finally lost. The creeds, councils, and confessions of Christianity consistently affirm final judgment and eternal punishment. To embrace universalism requires either dismissing this tradition as simply wrong or reinterpreting it so radically that words lose their meaning. For Christians who take tradition seriously as a guide to interpreting Scripture, this presents an insurmountable obstacle.

Annihilationism: The Second Death as Cessation of Existence

Annihilationism offers a middle path between traditionalism and universalism. Also known as conditional immortality, this view holds that the wicked will ultimately cease to exist rather than suffer eternally. Defenders like Edward Fudge, John Stott, and Clark Pinnock argue that this view better fits both Scripture and God’s character than traditional eternal torment.

Annihilationists point out that the Bible frequently describes the fate of the wicked as “death,” “destruction,” “perishing,” and “being consumed.” These terms naturally suggest cessation of existence rather than eternal conscious torment. When Jesus says “fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell” (Matthew 10:28), the word “destroy” seems to indicate annihilation. The famous verse John 3:16 contrasts eternal life for believers with “perishing” for unbelievers, not eternal torment. The “second death” mentioned in Revelation seems to be the death of death itself—complete non-existence.

Furthermore, annihilationists argue that immortality is conditional, not inherent to human nature. Only God is inherently immortal (1 Timothy 6:16). Humans receive immortality as a gift through Christ. Those who reject Christ don’t receive this gift and thus naturally cease to exist. This view preserves God’s justice (the punishment fits the crime) and love (God doesn’t torment people forever) while maintaining that some will be finally lost.

However, Manis identifies several problems with annihilationism. First, certain biblical passages seem to explicitly teach eternal conscious punishment. Revelation 14:11 says “the smoke of their torment goes up forever and ever, and they have no rest, day or night.” This language of ongoing torment and lack of rest seems incompatible with non-existence. Jesus’ parable of the rich man and Lazarus depicts conscious suffering in the afterlife. The parallel between “eternal life” and “eternal punishment” in Matthew 25:46 suggests that if life is consciously experienced forever, so is punishment.

Second, annihilationism faces its own version of the problem of justice. Is non-existence really a proportionate punishment for sin? The annihilationist might respond that the loss of eternal life is the ultimate deprivation. But for someone who doesn’t want eternal life with God, non-existence might seem preferable to eternal submission to a deity they reject. Some might even choose annihilation over heaven if given the option, making it less a punishment than an escape.

Third, while annihilationism has had some defenders throughout church history, it has been consistently rejected by mainstream Christianity. Major creeds and confessions affirm eternal punishment, not annihilation. The church fathers who addressed the issue overwhelmingly affirmed conscious eternal punishment. While tradition isn’t infallible, its consistent witness carries significant weight for those who believe the Holy Spirit has guided the church into truth.

The Choice Model: Hell as Self-Imposed Separation

The choice model, popularized by C.S. Lewis and defended by philosophers like Jerry Walls and Eleonore Stump, offers another alternative. This view maintains that hell is eternal conscious suffering but reframes it as self-chosen separation from God rather than divinely imposed punishment. The damned are not sent to hell against their will; rather, they choose hell by persistently rejecting God. In Lewis’s famous phrase, “the doors of hell are locked from the inside.”

This model elegantly addresses many problems with traditionalism. The problem of justice is resolved because people aren’t being punished by God but are experiencing the natural consequences of their own choices. The problem of love is addressed because God isn’t torturing anyone; He’s simply respecting human freedom, allowing people to have what they’ve chosen. Even the doxastic problems are mitigated because believers can view hell as a tragic necessity required by genuine freedom rather than divine vengeance.

The choice model draws support from biblical themes of human responsibility and the consequences of rejecting God. Jesus spoke of people loving darkness rather than light (John 3:19). Paul described those who “suppress the truth in unrighteousness” (Romans 1:18) and are “given over” to their sinful desires. The image of being cast into “outer darkness” suggests exclusion from God’s presence, which could be understood as self-imposed exile rather than forcible banishment.

Moreover, the choice model aligns with our intuitions about love and freedom. Love cannot be coerced; it must be freely given. For God to force people into heaven against their will would violate their personhood. As Walls argues, some people may become so identified with sin, so hardened in their rejection of God, that they would find heaven more torturous than hell. For such people, separation from God is what they’ve chosen and continue to choose.

Yet Manis identifies serious problems with the choice model. First, it doesn’t fully align with biblical language about judgment and punishment. Scripture consistently presents final judgment as something God actively does, not merely allows. Jesus speaks of himself as the judge who will separate sheep from goats, pronouncing destinies rather than merely ratifying choices. The language of “wrath,” “vengeance,” and “punishment” throughout Scripture suggests divine action, not just natural consequences.

Second, the choice model struggles to explain why anyone would choose eternal suffering. If hell is as horrible as Scripture suggests, wouldn’t everyone eventually choose to leave? The response that people become so hardened they can’t change seems to reintroduce the problem of moral responsibility. If someone literally cannot choose differently, are they really responsible for their continued rejection of God? And if they could choose differently but don’t, this suggests either ignorance of hell’s reality (raising questions about informed consent) or insanity (raising questions about moral responsibility).

Third, the idea of hell as separation from God faces biblical challenges. Psalm 139:8 declares, “If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there.” More significantly, Revelation 14:10 describes the torment of the wicked as occurring “in the presence of the holy angels and of the Lamb.” This explicit statement that punishment occurs in God’s presence, not separated from it, poses a serious challenge to the choice model’s fundamental premise.

Part III: The Divine Presence Model – A Revolutionary Solution

The Core Insight: Hell as the Experience of God’s Presence

The Divine Presence Model represents a paradigm shift in thinking about hell. Rather than viewing hell as separation from God or as a divinely imposed external punishment, this model proposes that hell is the way unrepentant sinners necessarily experience the very presence of God Himself. As Manis explains in Sinners in the Presence of a Loving God, “Heaven and hell are not two ‘places’ to which the saved and damned are consigned, respectively, but rather two radically different ways that different creatures will experience the same reality of divine omnipresence once the barrier of divine hiddenness is finally and fully removed.”

This isn’t a new idea invented by Manis but rather a recovery of ancient Christian wisdom. The model has deep roots in Eastern Orthodox theology and can be traced through various Western theologians as well. What Manis provides is a rigorous philosophical and biblical defense of this view, demonstrating how it solves the problems plaguing other models while remaining faithful to Scripture and tradition.

The key insight is deceptively simple yet profound: God is love, and God is omnipresent. These two fundamental truths about God’s nature, when properly understood, revolutionize our understanding of hell. If God is everywhere, then there can be no place of separation from Him. And if God is love itself, then the experience of His presence will be either ultimate joy or ultimate torment, depending on one’s spiritual condition.

Consider an analogy Manis develops: the sun shines on all, but its light brings different experiences to different recipients. For healthy eyes, sunlight brings joy, clarity, and the ability to see beauty. For diseased eyes, the same light brings pain, discomfort, and the desire to hide in darkness. The difference lies not in the sun but in the condition of the receiver. Similarly, God’s presence—which is pure love, holiness, and truth—brings either supreme happiness or supreme misery depending on one’s spiritual state.

This model immediately addresses several biblical puzzles. Why does Scripture use fire as an image for both God’s presence and hell? Because they are the same reality experienced differently. Why does Revelation 14:10 place the torment of the wicked “in the presence of the holy angels and of the Lamb”? Because hell is precisely the experience of being in God’s presence while being spiritually unprepared for it. Why do biblical authors use such varied imagery for hell—fire, darkness, weeping, gnashing of teeth? Because they’re trying to convey the multifaceted horror of experiencing infinite love as torment.

Divine Hiddenness and Human Freedom

A crucial component of the Divine Presence Model is the concept of divine hiddenness. Currently, God’s presence is veiled or hidden to allow genuine human freedom and moral development. We experience God’s presence indirectly through creation, conscience, and spiritual experiences, but not in its fullness. This hiddenness serves multiple purposes in God’s redemptive plan.

First, divine hiddenness preserves genuine freedom. If God’s presence were fully manifest, the sheer overwhelming nature of the divine would compel submission. It would be like trying to deny the existence of the sun while staring directly at it. The metaphysical “size gap” between Creator and creature is so vast that full exposure to God’s presence would overwhelm human will. By remaining partially hidden, God creates space for authentic choice, genuine relationship, and real moral development.

Second, hiddenness serves a protective function. In our current sinful state, full exposure to God’s presence would be unbearable. This is why Old Testament figures express terror at even partial divine manifestations. Moses could only see God’s “back” and live. Isaiah cried out “Woe is me! I am undone!” when he glimpsed God’s glory. The disciples fell on their faces in terror at Jesus’ transfiguration. Divine hiddenness is thus an act of mercy, protecting us from an encounter we’re not yet prepared to handle.

Third, hiddenness enables moral and spiritual development—what Manis calls “soul-making.” In conditions of ambiguity and uncertainty, we develop character, faith, and love in ways that wouldn’t be possible if God’s existence and will were undeniable. We learn to seek truth, develop trust, exercise compassion, and grow in wisdom. These virtues, formed in the crucible of earthly life, prepare us for the ultimate encounter with God.

But this hiddenness is temporary. Scripture consistently points toward a final unveiling, an ultimate revelation when “every eye will see him” (Revelation 1:7). At the return of Christ, divine hiddenness ends. God’s presence becomes inescapable, undeniable, overwhelming. This is the event Scripture calls judgment—not primarily a legal proceeding but an exposure to ultimate reality.

The Phenomenology of Divine Encounter

What happens when divine hiddenness ends and creatures encounter God’s unveiled presence? The Divine Presence Model suggests the experience depends entirely on one’s spiritual state. For those who have been transformed by grace, who have become “partakers of the divine nature” (2 Peter 1:4), the experience is one of indescribable joy, fulfillment, and communion. They have been prepared through sanctification to receive God’s presence as it truly is—infinite love, beauty, and goodness.

But for those who remain in rebellion against God, who have hardened their hearts and persisted in sin, the same divine presence becomes a source of torment. This isn’t because God changes or acts differently toward them. Rather, their spiritual condition makes them unable to receive God’s love as love. Like people with diseased eyes experiencing sunlight as painful, they experience divine love as wrath, divine truth as judgment, divine beauty as terror.

This explains the biblical imagery of divine encounter. When Saul encountered the risen Christ on the road to Damascus, he was struck blind and fell to the ground. The same presence that brings life to believers brings judgment to those unprepared for it. This is why Scripture can describe God as both “a consuming fire” (Hebrews 12:29) and “living water” (John 4:10)—the same divine reality is experienced in radically different ways.

The phenomenology of hell, then, involves several dimensions of suffering, all stemming from the unmediated encounter with God:

The Torment of Truth: In God’s presence, all illusions and self-deceptions are stripped away. Those who have built their identities on lies suddenly see themselves as they truly are. Every rationalization crumbles, every excuse evaporates. The psychological defense mechanisms that allowed them to function despite their sin no longer work. They are forced to confront the full reality of what they’ve become, with no possibility of denial or distraction.

The Agony of Love Rejected: To experience infinite love while being unable to receive it or reciprocate it creates a unique form of suffering. Imagine being embraced by someone you despise, unable to escape or push them away. The very love that should bring joy instead brings revulsion and rage. The damned experience God’s love as an oppressive, suffocating presence they cannot escape.

The Burden of Holiness: God’s absolute holiness highlights and magnifies the corruption of sin. In His presence, every moral failing is exposed and amplified. The shame and guilt that sinners could previously suppress or ignore becomes overwhelming. They experience their own sinfulness with an intensity that would have been unbearable in earthly life.

The Weight of Glory: The divine glory that brings joy to the saints brings crushing humiliation to the damned. They cannot help but recognize God’s supreme beauty, goodness, and worthiness of worship, yet they remain unable and unwilling to worship. This creates a terrible tension—knowing what they ought to feel but being unable to feel it, seeing what they should love but continuing to hate it.

The Role of Self-Deception

A crucial element in understanding how someone could reach such a state is the concept of self-deception. Manis argues that persistent sin involves increasingly elaborate forms of self-deception, as people rationalize their behavior and suppress truths about themselves and God. This self-deception becomes a protective mechanism, allowing people to continue in sin without fully confronting its reality.

Over time, self-deception can become so entrenched that people lose the ability to recognize truth even when confronted with it. They become like the Pharisees Jesus encountered, who could witness miracles and hear divine wisdom yet remain blind to the reality before them. Jesus explains this phenomenon: “This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but people loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil” (John 3:19).

The process of self-deception involves several stages. Initially, people might feel guilt when they sin, recognizing the disconnect between their actions and moral truth. But rather than repent, they begin to rationalize: “It’s not that bad,” “Everyone does it,” “I had no choice.” These rationalizations require suppressing certain truths and elevating certain lies.

As sin continues, the rationalizations must become more elaborate. People might develop entire philosophical or theological systems to justify their behavior. They might surround themselves with others who share and reinforce their delusions. They might actively attack or avoid anything that challenges their constructed reality. Eventually, the false worldview becomes so entrenched that truth itself seems like a lie.

This explains why some people could theoretically choose to remain in hell even when experiencing its torments. They have become so identified with their sin, so committed to their rebellion, that accepting truth would require abandoning their very identity. The pride that led them into sin now prevents them from escaping its consequences. They would rather suffer than admit they were wrong, rather endure torment than submit to God.

This tragic dynamic is captured in Jesus’ parable of the rich man and Lazarus. Even in torment, the rich man doesn’t repent or acknowledge his sin. He still tries to order Lazarus around, still thinks in terms of social hierarchy, still fails to recognize the justice of his situation. He’s concerned about his brothers not because he loves them but because he doesn’t want them to blame him for not warning them. Even in hell, he remains fundamentally unchanged.

Part IV: Biblical Support for the Divine Presence Model

Fire as Divine Presence

One of the strongest biblical arguments for the Divine Presence Model comes from the pervasive use of fire as a symbol for both God’s presence and hell. This isn’t coincidental but points to a deep theological truth: hell and divine presence are intimately connected.

Throughout Scripture, God is associated with fire. In the Old Testament, God appears to Moses in a burning bush (Exodus 3:2). He leads the Israelites through the wilderness as a pillar of fire (Exodus 13:21). On Mount Sinai, “the glory of the LORD looked like a consuming fire” (Exodus 24:17). The prophet declares, “For the LORD your God is a consuming fire, a jealous God” (Deuteronomy 4:24), a statement repeated in the New Testament: “for our God is a consuming fire” (Hebrews 12:29).

This divine fire has different effects on different people. When Solomon dedicates the temple, fire comes down from heaven and consumes the sacrifices, and the people worship (2 Chronicles 7:1-3). But when Aaron’s sons offer “unauthorized fire,” the fire from the LORD’s presence consumes them in judgment (Leviticus 10:1-2). The same fire that accepts worship destroys rebellion.

The prophets consistently use fire imagery for divine judgment. Isaiah declares: “See, the LORD is coming with fire, and his chariots are like a whirlwind; he will bring down his anger with fury, and his rebuke with flames of fire” (Isaiah 66:15). Yet the same prophet also speaks of divine fire as purifying: “When the Lord has washed away the filth of the women of Zion and cleansed the bloodstains from the heart of Jerusalem by a spirit of judgment and a spirit of fire” (Isaiah 4:4).

In the New Testament, this fire imagery intensifies. John the Baptist announces that Jesus “will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire” (Matthew 3:11). At Pentecost, the Holy Spirit appears as “tongues of fire” (Acts 2:3). Paul warns that each person’s work will be tested by fire at the judgment (1 Corinthians 3:13-15). And most significantly, the book of Revelation describes both God’s throne and the lake of fire in terms of fire and burning.

This parallel is not accidental. The Divine Presence Model suggests that the “lake of fire” is nothing other than the unveiled presence of God experienced by those unprepared for it. This explains why Revelation 14:10 places the torment of the wicked “in the presence of the holy angels and of the Lamb”—a verse that makes little sense if hell is separation from God but perfect sense if hell is the experience of God’s presence by the unredeemed.

The Transfiguration and Two Covenant 3

Manis identifies 2 Corinthians 3 as one of the most important passages for understanding the Divine Presence Model. Here Paul contrasts the old and new covenants using the imagery of Moses’ encounter with God. When Moses met with God, his face shone with reflected glory—a glory so intense the Israelites couldn’t look at him. Moses had to veil his face to protect them from the radiance.

Paul uses this as a metaphor for spiritual transformation. Those who turn to the Lord have the veil removed and “with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory” and are “being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory” (2 Corinthians 3:18). This transformation—what Eastern Orthodox theology calls theosis—prepares believers to encounter God’s presence as glory rather than judgment.

But Paul also speaks of those whose minds are veiled, who cannot perceive spiritual truth. When the veil is finally removed at Christ’s return—when divine hiddenness ends—they will encounter the same glory that transforms believers. But lacking the spiritual transformation that comes through Christ, they will experience this glory as judgment rather than joy.

This interpretation is reinforced by the transfiguration accounts. When Jesus is transfigured, his clothes become “dazzling white” and his face shines “like the sun” (Matthew 17:2). The disciples fall face down in terror. This is just a glimpse of Christ’s glory, yet it overwhelms them. Peter later reflects on this experience as a preview of Christ’s second coming (2 Peter 1:16-18). The transfiguration reveals what will happen when Christ returns in glory—a revelation that brings joy to the prepared but terror to the unprepared.

Judgment as Exposure to Divine Presence

The Divine Presence Model reframes our understanding of final judgment. Rather than primarily a legal proceeding where God pronounces sentences, judgment is fundamentally the exposure of all creatures to God’s unveiled presence. This exposure itself constitutes judgment, as each person’s spiritual state is revealed and experienced in relation to divine reality.

This understanding illuminates Jesus’ saying, “For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but people loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil” (John 3:17,19). The judgment isn’t an external sentence imposed by God but the natural result of how people respond to divine light. Those who love truth come to the light; those who love darkness flee from it.

Similarly, Jesus says, “As for the person who hears my words but does not keep them, I do not judge him. For I did not come to judge the world, but to save it. There is a judge for the one who rejects me and does not accept my words; that very word which I spoke will condemn him at the last day” (John 12:47-48). The word itself—the truth of God—becomes the standard by which people are judged, not through external evaluation but through their own response to it.

This explains why Scripture can simultaneously affirm that God judges no one (John 5:22) and that God judges everyone (Romans 2:16). God doesn’t judge in the sense of arbitrarily deciding fates; He judges in the sense that His very presence reveals and exposes the truth about every creature. The judgment is inherent in the encounter itself.

Part V: The Orthodox Tradition and Historical Support

Eastern Orthodox Witness

While the Divine Presence Model may seem novel to many Western Christians, it has deep roots in Eastern Orthodox theology. For Orthodox Christians, this understanding of hell isn’t an innovation but rather the traditional teaching passed down through the centuries. As Manis notes, this view “is arguably an ancient view, and one that is prominent among contemporary Orthodox Christians.”

Fr. Thomas Hopko, in his authoritative work The Orthodox Faith, endorsed by the Orthodox Church in America, provides a clear articulation of this view: “The final coming of Christ will be the judgment of all men. His very presence will be the judgment. For those who love the Lord, His Presence will be infinite joy, paradise and eternal life. For those who hate the Lord, the same Presence will be infinite torture, hell and eternal death.”

This isn’t merely one theologian’s opinion but represents mainstream Orthodox teaching. Hopko continues: “According to the saints, the ‘fire’ that will consume sinners at the coming of the Kingdom of God is the same ‘fire’ that will shine with splendor in the saints. It is the ‘fire’ of God’s love; the ‘fire’ of God Himself who is Love. Thus it is the Church’s spiritual teaching that God does not punish man by some material fire or physical torment. God simply reveals Himself in the risen Lord Jesus in such a glorious way that no man can fail to behold His glory.”

Alexander Kalomiros, whose work The River of Fire has been instrumental in spreading this understanding among English-speaking Orthodox believers, explains: “God is Truth and Light. God’s judgment is nothing else than our coming into contact with truth and light. So that which will differentiate between one man and another will not be a decision of God, a reward or a punishment from Him, but that which was in each one’s heart; what was there during all our life will be revealed in the Day of Judgment.”

This Orthodox understanding emphasizes that the difference between heaven and hell lies not in God’s attitude or action toward different people, but in how different people experience the same divine reality. As Kalomiros vividly illustrates: “All the difference lies in those who receive, not in Him Who gives. The sun shines on healthy and diseased eyes alike, without any distinction. Healthy eyes enjoy light and because of it see clearly the beauty which surrounds them. Diseased eyes feel pain, they hurt, suffer, and want to hide from this same light which brings such great happiness to those who have healthy eyes.”

Patristic Foundations

The Orthodox understanding draws heavily on the church fathers, particularly those from the Eastern tradition. St. Basil the Great, the fourth-century bishop of Caesarea, provides one of the clearest early articulations of the basic concept: “I believe that the fire prepared for the punishment of the devil and his angels is divided by the voice of the Lord. Thus, since there are two capacities in fire, one of burning and the other of illuminating, the fierce and scourging property of the fire may await those who deserve to burn, while illuminating and radiant warmth may be reserved for the enjoyment of those who are rejoicing.”

St. Isaac the Syrian, a seventh-century mystic and theologian, offers a particularly profound reflection on the nature of hell’s torments: “Those who find themselves in gehenna will be chastised with the scourge of love. How cruel and bitter this torment of love will be! For those who understand that they have sinned against love, undergo greater sufferings than those produced by the most fearful tortures. The sorrow which takes hold of the heart which has sinned against love, is more piercing than any other pain. It is not right to say that the sinners in hell are deprived of the love of God. But love acts in two ways, as suffering in the reproved, and as joy in the blessed.”

This patristic witness is significant because it shows that the Divine Presence Model isn’t a modern innovation designed to solve contemporary philosophical problems. Rather, it represents a recovery of ancient Christian wisdom that has been preserved particularly in the Eastern tradition but has echoes in Western Christianity as well.

Western Witnesses

While less prominent in Western Christianity, the Divine Presence Model has had notable advocates throughout history. Martin Luther, despite his overall traditional views on hell, made striking statements that align with this model. In his Commentary on the Psalms, Luther writes: “The fiery oven is ignited merely by the unbearable appearance of God and endures eternally. Not as though the ungodly see God and His appearance as the godly will see Him; but they will feel the power of His presence, which they will not be able to bear, and yet will be forced to bear. This chief and unbearable punishment God will inflict with His mere appearance, that is, with the revelation of His wrath.”

Even Thomas Aquinas, often cited as a defender of traditionalism, makes statements compatible with aspects of the Divine Presence Model. He acknowledges that the pain of loss (poena damni)—the loss of the beatific vision—is the greatest suffering of hell. This suggests that the fundamental problem isn’t separation from God in an absolute sense but rather the inability to properly receive and enjoy God’s presence.

In more recent times, C.S. Lewis, while primarily defending the choice model, makes statements that gesture toward the Divine Presence Model. The closing paragraph of The Great Divorce hints at this understanding: “All that are in Hell, choose it. Without that self-choice there could be no Hell. No soul that seriously and constantly desires joy will ever miss it. Those who seek find. To those who knock it is opened. And yourself, in a state of grace, will see that your past sins were not fully your own, but were permitted as a means to bring you to your present state.”

Part VI: Philosophical and Theological Advantages

Solving the Problem of Justice

The Divine Presence Model elegantly resolves the problem of justice that plagues traditionalism. The suffering of hell isn’t a punishment arbitrarily imposed by God but rather the natural and necessary result of being an unrepentant sinner in the presence of absolute holiness. This shifts the framework from retributive justice to something more like natural consequence.

Consider an analogy: If someone with severe photophobia (extreme light sensitivity) insists on staring at the sun, their resulting pain isn’t a punishment imposed by the sun. The sun simply is what it is—a massive ball of burning gas emitting intense light. The pain results from the interaction between the sun’s nature and the person’s condition. Similarly, God simply is who He is—infinite love, absolute holiness, pure truth. The torment of hell results from the interaction between God’s nature and the spiritual condition of the damned.

This doesn’t mean the damned aren’t responsible for their fate. They are responsible for the spiritual condition that makes God’s presence unbearable to them. Through persistent sin and self-deception, they have formed themselves into beings who cannot receive divine love as love. Their suffering is both self-inflicted (resulting from their own choices) and divinely inflicted (resulting from God’s presence), but not arbitrarily imposed as external punishment.

Moreover, this model explains why the punishment is eternal without making God seem vindictive. If the damned have become permanently fixed in their rebellion—having passed what Manis calls the “point of no return” in their spiritual deformation—then their experience of God’s presence will be permanently one of torment. The eternality of hell reflects not God’s unwillingness to forgive but the damned’s inability to receive forgiveness.

Preserving Divine Love

Perhaps the greatest advantage of the Divine Presence Model is how it preserves and even emphasizes God’s love. Hell isn’t the absence of God’s love but rather the experience of God’s love by those who have made themselves incapable of receiving it properly. God doesn’t stop loving the damned; indeed, it is precisely His love that they experience as torment.

This resolves the moral paradox that troubles traditionalism. God doesn’t do something to the damned that He commands us not to do to our enemies. He continues to love them, to sustain their existence, to be present to them. The tragedy is that what should be the greatest blessing—union with infinite love—becomes for them the greatest curse due to their spiritual condition.

Fr. Hopko expresses this powerfully: “God does not punish man by some material fire or physical torment. God simply reveals Himself in the risen Lord Jesus in such a glorious way that no man can fail to behold His glory. It is the presence of God’s splendid glory and love that is the scourge of those who reject its radiant power and light.”

This understanding also explains why God doesn’t simply annihilate the damned. Annihilation would require God to withdraw His sustaining presence, but God’s love extends even to those who reject Him. He continues to sustain their existence, continues to be present to them, continues to love them—even though they experience this love as torment. In a profound sense, hell is the ultimate expression of God’s respect for human freedom and His commitment to love even those who hate Him.

Addressing the Doxastic Problems

The Divine Presence Model significantly alleviates the doxastic problems that plague traditionalism. Believers can worship God without reservation because He isn’t a cosmic torturer but rather love itself. The suffering of hell isn’t something God does to people but something that results from their own spiritual condition in relation to God’s unchanging nature.

The problem of neighbor love is also addressed. Believers can genuinely love their non-Christian neighbors while hoping and praying for their salvation. The urgency of evangelism remains—people need to be prepared for their inevitable encounter with God—but it’s motivated by love rather than terror. The message becomes not “God will torture you if you don’t believe” but “God loves you and wants to prepare you to receive His love fully.”

The problem of religious motivation is resolved because the Divine Presence Model emphasizes transformation over transaction. The goal isn’t simply to avoid hell but to become the kind of person who can experience God’s presence as joy. This shifts the focus from fear-based compliance to love-based transformation, from external conformity to internal renewal.

Finally, the problem of despair is addressed because the Divine Presence Model reveals hell not as divine sadism but as tragic necessity. God doesn’t delight in the suffering of the damned; He grieves over those who have made themselves incapable of receiving His love. Believers can trust in God’s goodness while mourning over those who reject it, without the cognitive dissonance created by traditionalism.

Theological Coherence

The Divine Presence Model brings theological coherence to numerous biblical and doctrinal themes that otherwise seem contradictory. It explains how God can be omnipresent yet hell can exist. It shows how the same God who is love can also be a consuming fire. It reconciles divine sovereignty with human responsibility. It explains how judgment can be both something God does and something people bring on themselves.

Moreover, this model provides a unified understanding of salvation and damnation. Both heaven and hell flow from the same source—God’s presence. Both are eternal because God is eternal. Both involve the full revelation of truth, the complete manifestation of divine glory, the ultimate encounter with reality. The difference lies entirely in how creatures are prepared (or unprepared) for this encounter.

This coherence extends to understanding the purpose of earthly life. The current condition of divine hiddenness isn’t arbitrary but serves the purpose of soul-making—allowing creatures to develop moral and spiritual qualities that prepare them for ultimate reality. The ambiguities and challenges of earthly life aren’t design flaws but necessary conditions for genuine spiritual development.

Part VII: Answering Objections to the Divine Presence Model

Objection 1: Doesn’t This Make Hell Inevitable?

Critics might argue that if hell is simply the natural result of encountering God’s presence while spiritually unprepared, then it seems inevitable for sinners. This appears to eliminate human responsibility and make God responsible for creating beings destined for torment.

Manis responds by emphasizing the role of human freedom throughout the process of spiritual formation. People don’t suddenly become hardened sinners; they gradually form themselves through countless free choices. Each sin makes the next sin easier, each act of self-deception makes truth harder to accept, each rejection of grace makes the heart harder. The final state of damnation is the culmination of a lifetime of choices, not a sudden arbitrary fate.

Moreover, God provides abundant opportunities for repentance and transformation. Through general revelation in nature and conscience, special revelation in Scripture and Christ, and the ongoing work of the Holy Spirit, God continually calls people to Himself. The tragedy of damnation isn’t that people lacked opportunity but that they persistently rejected it.

The model also emphasizes that spiritual transformation is always possible this side of death. No one is so hardened that God’s grace cannot reach them if they’re willing to receive it. The “point of no return” that leads to damnation isn’t crossed until after death, when the conditions for change no longer exist. Until then, the invitation remains open.

Objection 2: Why Not Universal Salvation?

If hell is the experience of God’s love by the unprepared, and if God’s love is infinite and persistent, why wouldn’t it eventually transform everyone? Why wouldn’t the experience of divine love, even if initially painful, eventually break down all resistance and lead to universal salvation?

Manis addresses this by discussing the nature of freedom and the possibility of permanent spiritual deformation. Freedom, to be genuine, must include the possibility of permanent rejection. If God guaranteed that everyone would eventually choose Him, then the choice wouldn’t be truly free. The possibility of eternal loss is the price of genuine freedom.

Furthermore, the model suggests that through persistent sin and self-deception, people can become so spiritually deformed that change becomes impossible. Like a tree that has grown permanently bent, they have shaped themselves in ways that cannot be undone without destroying their identity. The self-deception that protected them from truth in life continues in death, preventing them from accepting the reality of their condition.

This doesn’t mean God stops trying to reach them. His love remains constant, His presence continues to surround them. But they have made themselves incapable of receiving this love as anything other than torment. Their will has become permanently fixed in opposition to God, not through divine decree but through their own choices.

Objection 3: Biblical Language of Separation

Critics point out that Scripture often uses language of separation to describe hell: “depart from me” (Matthew 25:41), “outer darkness” (Matthew 8:12), “shut out from the presence of the Lord” (2 Thessalonians 1:9). How can the Divine Presence Model account for this language if hell is precisely the experience of God’s presence?

Manis offers several responses. First, the language of separation must be interpreted in light of clear biblical teaching about God’s omnipresence. Psalm 139:8 explicitly states that God is present even in Sheol. The separation, therefore, cannot be absolute or spatial but must be relational or experiential.

Second, the model can accommodate separation language by understanding it as describing the subjective experience of the damned. They experience themselves as separated from God because they cannot commune with Him, cannot receive His love, cannot participate in His life. It’s like being in the same room with someone but being unable to communicate or connect—a presence that feels like absence.

Third, some separation language might refer to exclusion from the blessed community rather than from God Himself. The “outer darkness” is outside the wedding feast, outside the kingdom, outside the fellowship of the redeemed. The damned are separated from the Church, from the communion of saints, from participation in divine life—but not from God’s presence itself.

Objection 4: The Problem of Divine Hiddenness

If encountering God’s presence unprepared leads to eternal torment, why does God remain hidden now? Wouldn’t a loving God make Himself unmistakably known so that everyone has a clear opportunity to prepare for the ultimate encounter?

This objection misunderstands the purpose of divine hiddenness in the model. Hiddenness isn’t about God playing cosmic hide-and-seek but about creating conditions necessary for genuine moral and spiritual development. If God’s presence were fully manifest, it would overwhelm human freedom. People would submit out of terror or compulsion, not love. The resulting “faith” would be more like the demons’ belief—acknowledging God’s existence while trembling, but without genuine trust or love.

Moreover, hiddenness serves a protective function. In our current sinful state, full exposure to God’s presence would be unbearable, as the model itself acknowledges. Divine hiddenness is thus an act of mercy, giving people time and space to undergo the transformation necessary to encounter God’s presence as blessing rather than curse.

Finally, God isn’t completely hidden. Through creation, conscience, Scripture, and the incarnation, God has revealed Himself sufficiently for those who seek Him. Jesus promised, “Seek and you will find” (Matthew 7:7). The problem isn’t that God is too hidden but that people “suppress the truth in unrighteousness” (Romans 1:18).

Part VIII: Practical Implications for Christian Life

Transformation, Not Transaction

The Divine Presence Model fundamentally reorients Christian spirituality from a transactional to a transformational paradigm. Traditional views often present salvation as a legal transaction: Christ pays our debt, God declares us righteous, and we avoid hell. While these legal metaphors have biblical support, when taken in isolation they can reduce Christianity to a cosmic insurance policy against eternal torture.

The Divine Presence Model, by contrast, emphasizes that salvation is fundamentally about transformation—becoming the kind of beings who can encounter God’s presence as joy rather than torment. This shifts the focus from merely obtaining forgiveness to actively participating in sanctification. The Christian life becomes not just about having one’s sins pardoned but about being progressively transformed into Christ’s likeness.

This understanding gives new urgency and meaning to spiritual disciplines. Prayer isn’t just requesting things from God but practicing His presence. Scripture reading isn’t just learning information but encountering the living Word. Worship isn’t just expressing gratitude but participating in divine life. The sacraments aren’t just symbols but means of grace that transform us into beings capable of bearing divine presence.

The model also explains why Christianity emphasizes both faith and works, both grace and effort. Faith opens us to receive God’s transforming grace, but we must cooperate with that grace through spiritual practices, moral choices, and acts of love. We’re not earning salvation but preparing ourselves for the ultimate encounter with God. As Paul says, we “work out our salvation with fear and trembling” while recognizing that “it is God who works in you” (Philippians 2:12-13).

Understanding Suffering and Spiritual Growth

The Divine Presence Model provides a framework for understanding the role of suffering in spiritual development. If the ultimate human destiny is to encounter God’s unveiled presence, then earthly life serves as preparation for this encounter. The trials, challenges, and sufferings of life aren’t arbitrary but serve the purpose of soul-making.

This doesn’t mean God directly causes all suffering, but He permits it and can use it for spiritual development. As people face difficulties, they have opportunities to develop virtues like patience, compassion, courage, and faith. They learn to rely on God rather than themselves, to value eternal things over temporal ones, to identify with Christ in His sufferings.

Moreover, experiences of suffering can serve as wake-up calls, breaking through the self-deception that prevents spiritual growth. C.S. Lewis called pain “God’s megaphone to rouse a deaf world.” When comfortable illusions are shattered, people may become more open to truth, more aware of their need for God, more willing to undergo transformation.

This understanding doesn’t minimize the reality of suffering or suggest we should seek it out. Rather, it provides hope that even the darkest experiences can serve redemptive purposes if we allow God to use them for our transformation. As Paul writes, “We know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him” (Romans 8:28).

Evangelism and Mission

The Divine Presence Model transforms our understanding of evangelism and mission. Rather than primarily warning people about eternal torture, we invite them into transformative relationship with God. The gospel becomes not just escape from punishment but invitation to become the kind of beings who can fully experience divine love.

This doesn’t diminish the urgency of evangelism—people still need to be prepared for their inevitable encounter with God. But it changes the tone from threat to invitation, from fear to love. We’re not divine threat-bearers but ambassadors of reconciliation, inviting people to be transformed by divine love.

The model also emphasizes that evangelism must address the whole person, not just their beliefs. Since damnation involves spiritual deformation through sin and self-deception, salvation requires comprehensive transformation. This means addressing not just theological questions but also moral issues, emotional wounds, destructive habits, and false worldviews that prevent people from receiving divine love.

Furthermore, the model suggests that Christians themselves are part of the message. As we undergo transformation, becoming more capable of reflecting divine love, we become living testimonies to the gospel’s power. Our lives should demonstrate that encountering God’s presence brings joy, peace, and fulfillment rather than the torment experienced by the unprepared.

Pastoral Care and Counseling

The Divine Presence Model offers valuable insights for pastoral care and counseling. Understanding hell as the experience of divine presence by the spiritually unprepared helps pastors address people’s fears and doubts more effectively. Rather than either minimizing hell or terrorizing people with graphic descriptions of torture, pastors can present hell as the tragic but natural consequence of rejecting transformation.

For those struggling with fear of hell, the model offers reassurance that God isn’t a vindictive torturer but love itself. The solution to fear isn’t just intellectual belief but ongoing transformation through grace. Pastors can help people focus on growing in love rather than obsessing over whether they’ve met some minimum requirement for avoiding hell.

For those grieving loved ones who died outside the faith, the model offers a nuanced perspective. While not offering false hope of universal salvation, it emphasizes that judgment belongs to God alone, and He knows the depths of every heart. The model also helps grieving believers understand that their loved ones’ fate isn’t arbitrary divine cruelty but the result of spiritual realities we may not fully understand.

The model also provides framework for addressing sin and calling people to repentance. Sin isn’t just breaking arbitrary rules but spiritual deformation that makes us incapable of receiving divine love. Repentance isn’t just feeling sorry but undergoing transformation. This helps pastors address sin seriously while emphasizing God’s desire to heal rather than punish.

Part IX: The Theological Synthesis

Integrating Justice and Love

One of the most remarkable features of the Divine Presence Model is how it integrates divine justice and love without compromising either. Traditional models often pit these attributes against each other: justice demands punishment while love desires mercy. This creates an apparent conflict within God’s nature, sometimes resolved by suggesting that Christ’s death satisfies justice so love can be expressed, but this solution can make God seem divided against Himself.

The Divine Presence Model shows that justice and love are not in conflict but are unified in God’s nature. Hell isn’t God’s justice opposing His love but rather His love experienced as judgment by those who have made themselves incapable of receiving it properly. The same divine reality that brings supreme happiness to the redeemed brings supreme misery to the damned.

This integration appears throughout Scripture in passages that traditional models struggle to reconcile. “God is love” (1 John 4:8) and “God is a consuming fire” (Hebrews 12:29) are not contradictory but complementary truths. The fire is the love; the love is the fire. What differs is how creatures experience this singular divine reality based on their spiritual condition.

Justice is served not through external punishment but through the inherent consequences of sin. Those who have rejected truth encounter Truth himself and find it unbearable. Those who have chosen darkness experience Light itself as torment. Those who have hardened their hearts against love experience Love itself as wrath. The punishment perfectly fits the crime because it is the crime’s natural result.

Meanwhile, love is expressed in God’s continued presence to and sustaining of even those who reject Him. He doesn’t annihilate the damned or abandon them to non-existence. He remains present to them, continues to love them, even though they experience this love as torment. This is the ultimate expression of divine commitment—loving even those who have made themselves incapable of receiving love.

Heaven and Hell as Parallel Realities

The Divine Presence Model reveals heaven and hell not as opposite destinations but as opposite experiences of the same ultimate reality. Both involve the full revelation of God’s presence. Both are eternal because they involve encounter with the Eternal One. Both are unchangeable because they represent the final state of creaturely development in relation to divine reality.

This parallel structure appears in biblical imagery. The same event—Christ’s second coming—brings joy to believers and terror to unbelievers. The same fire that purifies gold consumes dross. The same light that brings vision to healthy eyes brings pain to diseased ones. The same gospel that is “the fragrance of life” to some is “the fragrance of death” to others (2 Corinthians 2:16).

This understanding helps explain why biblical authors can use such varied imagery for both heaven and hell. Heaven is described as light, rest, feast, city, garden, and more. Hell is described as fire, darkness, weeping, gnashing of teeth, lake, prison, and more. These aren’t contradictory but rather attempts to capture different aspects of the respective experiences. Heaven encompasses all forms of blessedness; hell encompasses all forms of misery.

The model also explains the finality of both states. Once divine hiddenness ends and God’s presence is fully revealed, the conditions for change no longer exist. The ambiguity that allowed for moral development, the hiddenness that preserved freedom, the temporal existence that enabled transformation—all these end with the eschaton. Creatures are fixed in their final state, either glorified in divine presence or tormented by it.

The Christological Center

The Divine Presence Model is fundamentally Christocentric. Christ is the one in whose presence the final judgment occurs. He is the light that brings both revelation and division. He is the stone that either becomes a foundation or crushes those who reject it. He is the dividing line of all human history and destiny.

The incarnation takes on new significance in this model. In Christ, divine presence enters human history in a unique way. His earthly ministry provides a preview of the final judgment—some are drawn to Him while others are repelled, some find healing while others take offense, some experience liberation while others become more entrenched in opposition.

The cross represents the ultimate intersection of divine love and human sin. There, God’s love is most fully revealed, and human rejection of God reaches its climax. The resurrection vindicates divine love and previews the final triumph of life over death. The ascension begins the period of hiddenness that will end with the parousia, when Christ returns in glory and divine presence becomes inescapable.

This Christological focus explains why explicit faith in Christ matters without making God arbitrary. Christ isn’t just one path among many but the very presence of God incarnate. To reject Christ is to reject God’s self-revelation. To accept Christ is to begin the transformation that prepares one for ultimate divine encounter. The question isn’t whether God will accept other religions but whether people are being prepared for the reality of who God actually is as revealed in Christ.

Part X: Living in Light of the Divine Presence Model

The Call to Transformation

If the Divine Presence Model is correct, it issues a profound call to transformation that goes beyond mere religious observance. The question is not simply whether we have checked the right theological boxes or performed the right religious rituals, but whether we are becoming the kind of beings who can encounter infinite love without experiencing it as torment.

This transformation is comprehensive, affecting every aspect of human existence. Intellectually, it means progressively abandoning self-deception and embracing truth, even when truth is uncomfortable or challenging. Morally, it means allowing divine love to reshape our characters, replacing selfishness with generosity, hatred with love, pride with humility. Spiritually, it means opening ourselves ever more fully to divine presence, learning to experience God’s presence as comfort rather than threat.

The model emphasizes that this transformation is both divine gift and human responsibility. We cannot transform ourselves by sheer willpower, but neither does God transform us without our cooperation. As the Eastern Orthodox tradition emphasizes, salvation involves synergy—divine grace and human effort working together. We must actively participate in our own transformation while recognizing that the power for change comes from God.

This understanding gives new meaning to Jesus’ command to “be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matthew 5:48). This isn’t an impossible standard designed to drive us to despair but a description of our ultimate destiny—to become beings who perfectly reflect divine love. Every moment of earthly life is an opportunity to move toward or away from this destiny.

Practical Spiritual Disciplines

The Divine Presence Model suggests specific spiritual practices that prepare us for divine encounter:

Contemplative Prayer: Rather than just presenting requests to God, contemplative prayer practices His presence. It involves learning to be still before God, to experience His presence without words, to let divine love penetrate our defenses. This gradual exposure to divine presence in prayer prepares us for the ultimate encounter.

Examination of Conscience: Regular, honest self-examination helps break down self-deception before it becomes entrenched. By honestly acknowledging our sins, weaknesses, and areas needing transformation, we cooperate with divine grace rather than resisting it. This practice prevents the hardening of heart that leads to damnation.

Lectio Divina: This ancient practice of meditative Scripture reading allows God’s word to transform us from within. Rather than just studying Scripture intellectually, we let it penetrate our hearts, reshape our thoughts, and conform us to Christ’s image. Scripture becomes not just information but transformation.

Practicing Presence: Throughout the day, we can practice awareness of God’s presence in all circumstances. This doesn’t mean constantly thinking about God but rather living with an underlying awareness that we exist in His presence. This practice helps us become comfortable with divine presence rather than finding it threatening.

Acts of Love: Since God is love, we prepare for encountering Him by practicing love ourselves. Every act of genuine love, service, and compassion makes us more capable of receiving divine love. Conversely, every act of hatred, selfishness, or cruelty makes us less capable of experiencing God’s presence as joy.

Community and Transformation

The Divine Presence Model emphasizes that transformation doesn’t occur in isolation but in community. The Church serves as a community of transformation where people support each other in the journey toward God. Through mutual encouragement, accountability, and love, believers help each other overcome self-deception and grow in grace.

The sacraments take on special significance as means of transformation. Baptism initiates the process of dying to sin and rising to new life. The Eucharist provides ongoing nourishment for spiritual growth, uniting believers with Christ and each other. Confession breaks the power of sin through honest acknowledgment and absolution. Each sacrament serves to transform believers into beings capable of bearing divine presence.

Christian community also provides a foretaste of heaven—the experience of divine love mediated through human relationships. As believers love one another with Christ’s love, they create spaces where God’s presence brings joy rather than torment. The Church becomes a training ground for eternity, a place where people learn to give and receive divine love.

This communal dimension also explains the importance of reconciliation and forgiveness. Unresolved conflicts, harbored resentments, and broken relationships hinder our capacity to receive divine love. Jesus emphasizes this connection: “If you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins” (Matthew 6:15). Forgiveness isn’t just a moral duty but a necessary preparation for divine encounter.

Conclusion: The Hope Within the Horror

The Divine Presence Model presents a vision of hell that is both more terrible and more comprehensible than traditional views. More terrible because it suggests that the damned suffer not from arbitrary divine punishment but from their own spiritual deformation that makes them experience infinite love as infinite torment. More comprehensible because it shows how hell flows naturally from the interaction between divine nature and creaturely choice rather than from divine vindictiveness.

Yet within this sobering vision lies profound hope. The God revealed in this model is not a cosmic torturer but love itself—a love so committed that it maintains and sustains even those who reject it, a love so pure that it becomes either ultimate joy or ultimate torment depending on how it’s received, a love so patient that it provides countless opportunities for transformation before the final encounter.

The model affirms that as long as earthly life continues, transformation remains possible. No one is so hardened that divine grace cannot reach them if they’re willing to receive it. The invitation to transformation stands open to all. God desires not the death of sinners but that they turn and live. Every moment offers the possibility of beginning or deepening the journey toward becoming beings capable of receiving divine love as love.

For those who have already begun this journey, the model offers encouragement to persist in transformation. The struggles of spiritual growth, the challenges of moral development, the difficulties of overcoming sin and self-deception—all these serve the vital purpose of preparing us for our ultimate destiny. Every small victory over sin, every act of love, every moment of genuine prayer advances us toward the goal of being able to stand joyfully in God’s presence.

The model also brings clarity to the Christian mission. We are called not primarily to save people from hell but to invite them into transformative relationship with God. The threat of hell remains real and serious, but it’s not the center of the message. The center is God’s love and His desire to transform creatures into beings capable of eternal communion with Him. We offer not just escape from punishment but participation in divine life.

Perhaps most significantly, the Divine Presence Model restores coherence to Christian theology. It shows how the God who is love can permit hell without contradiction. It explains how the same Christ who welcomed sinners and tax collectors can also be the judge of all humanity. It demonstrates how divine sovereignty and human freedom work together in determining eternal destinies. It reveals how all of Scripture’s varied imagery about final things points toward a single, unified reality.

As we stand between the already and not yet, between Christ’s first coming and His return, we live in the space of divine hiddenness that makes transformation possible. This hiddenness will not last forever. The day approaches when every eye will see Him, when divine presence becomes inescapable, when all creatures will encounter the God who is consuming fire and infinite love. The question that confronts every human being is not whether this encounter will occur but how we will experience it.

Will we experience God’s presence as the fulfillment of our deepest longings or as the contradiction of everything we’ve chosen to become? Will divine love embrace us as children coming home or expose us as rebels against reality? Will the fire of God’s presence purify us like gold or consume us like chaff? The answer depends not on arbitrary divine decree but on what we are becoming through our choices, our practices, and our response to grace.

The Divine Presence Model thus issues both warning and invitation. The warning: continuing in sin and self-deception leads inevitably to a state where God’s presence becomes unbearable torment. The invitation: through divine grace and human cooperation, we can be transformed into beings for whom God’s presence is eternal joy. The choice is ours, but we must choose while choice remains possible.

In the end, the Divine Presence Model reveals that hell’s greatest horror is also heaven’s greatest glory: the inescapable, eternal, overwhelming presence of the God who is love. Everything depends on how we are prepared to receive this presence. As C.S. Lewis observed, “There are only two kinds of people in the end: those who say to God, ‘Thy will be done,’ and those to whom God says, in the end, ‘Thy will be done.'” The Divine Presence Model shows us why this is so and calls us to ensure we are among those who can joyfully say, “Thy will be done,” when we finally stand in the presence of infinite love.

The words of St. Isaac the Syrian provide a fitting conclusion to our exploration: “Those who find themselves in gehenna will be chastised with the scourge of love. How cruel and bitter this torment of love will be! For those who understand that they have sinned against love, undergo greater sufferings than those produced by the most fearful tortures. The sorrow which takes hold of the heart which has sinned against love is more piercing than any other pain.”

Yet this same love that becomes a scourge to the unprepared is the source of eternal joy for those transformed by grace. The fire that torments the damned is the same fire that glorifies the saints. The presence that brings weeping and gnashing of teeth to some brings unending happiness to others. The God who is a consuming fire is also the God who is love, and in the end, these are not two different truths but one ultimate reality experienced in radically different ways.

May we all, through divine grace and our cooperation with it, be transformed into beings for whom the eternal presence of God is not torment but the fulfillment of our hearts’ deepest desire. For as Augustine prayed, “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.” The Divine Presence Model shows us that this rest is possible—but also that its absence is hell itself.

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