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Subject: Re: snippets from the hard copy universal reconciliation library of Rodger Tutt


Author:
Rodger Tutt (focused)
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Date Posted: 08:27:38 11/05/12 Mon
In reply to: Rodger Tutt 's message, "snippets from the hard copy universal reconciliation library of Rodger Tutt" on 17:39:17 03/26/12 Mon

#127 – DOOMED TO BE SAVED – Frances Power Cobbe

“I think if we were not caught in the meshes of that wretched Augustinian scheme of theology which postulates eternal hell to compel us to accept it, -- I think, I say, if it were not for this theology, all Christendom must have long ago come to see, that, at the very least, God feels towards a sinner as a saint would do, and not as a man less good, or wise, or merciful.

We do not think man’s evil can, in the long run of the ages, finally outspeed God’s ever-pursuing mercy. He must overtake us sooner or later. We may temporarily choose evil rather than good, and vileness instead of nobleness, and be ungrateful and sinful. But God will get the better of us at last.”

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[> Subject: Re: snippets from the hard copy universal reconciliation library of Rodger Tutt


Author:
Rodger Tutt (focused)
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Date Posted: 11:37:55 11/07/12 Wed

#128 - This is a thrilling poem by Matthew Arnold, keeping in mind the following fact.
Universalism was The Prevailing Doctrine Of The Christian Church During Its First Five Hundred Years
http://hellbusters.8m.com/updcontents.html

As students of the history of Christian doctrine know, among believers in eternal torment, Tertullian was one of the most extreme. That is why I think this poem is so powerful. It sent a thrill up and down my spine. ļ

¡§He saves the sheep, the goats he doth not save!¡¨
So rang Tertullian¡¦s sentence, on the side
Of that unpitying Phrygian sect which cried, --
¡§Him can no fount of fresh forgiveness lave
Who sins, once washed by the baptismal wave!¡¨
So spake the fierce Tertullian. But she sighed,
The infant church, of love she felt the tide
Stream on her from her Lord¡¦s yet recent grave,
And then she smiled, and in the Catacombs,
With eye suffused, but heart inspired true,
On those walls subterranean, where she hid
Her head in ignominy, death and tombs,
She her Good Shepherd¡¦s hasty image drew,
And on His shoulders, not a lamb, a kid.

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