It’s fashionable today in some circles to maintain that if there is a heaven beyond this life, all human beings will be part of that better future. One argument is that all people are going to heaven and that the difference between humans on the issue is only one of comprehension. Some know they are going and are not fearful. Others are going, but doubt it, and they are fearful or anxious. In this school of thinking, the good news of scripture is essentially the message that you are going to enjoy a heavenly eternity. It’s the declaration of something everyone will automatically experience, not the declaration that there is a volitional choice one must make about God and the place that Christ has in personal salvation, both in this life and the life to come.

This kind of ‘gospel’ is attractive. It promises something better to everyone on earth, regardless of their circumstances or moral choices. It sounds loving and gracious. It feels warm and friendly.

Underneath all the loving rhetoric, it encounters some serious problems. In reality, it teaches a kind of determinism that would rival that of the most ardent Calvinist. No matter what every human on the planet does, they are forced to spend eternity in heaven. There is no choice they can make on earth that will escape that reality. The issue is settled, and set in stone. What does this say about human autonomy? It levels all of life’s choices to something small and ultimately insignificant. They only influence our short years on earth. In light of all eternity, any acts of murder, theft, betrayal, adultery, or greed on any scale don’t really matter much. Our destinies are identical, and that’s it. Autonomy disappears—and we are forced to share in a single fate.

It does not ultimately matter whether I act justly or live as a moral reprobate. The notion of universal salvation also dismantles the concept of justice. Justice becomes only our flimsy way of addressing what we perceive to be ethical issues in our short lives here on earth. But acts of good and evil don’t matter in the long run. And justice becomes just a word without any lasting significance. Any earthly punishment will be a fleeting memory for those who share eternity with all their victims, juries, and judges.

But perhaps the biggest difficulty with this view from a Christian perspective is that Jesus repeatedly taught otherwise. In Matthew 13 Jesus teaches about the kingdom of heaven. He compares it to a fisherman who pulls a net full of fish to the shore. (See Mathew 13:47-50.) As he looks in the net, he sees two kinds of fish—those considered good, and those labeled as bad. He does not take all the fish and put them in the same place. The good fish go into a basket. The bad ones are thrown away. Jesus uses this example as a model for the kingdom. He says, “This is how it will be at the end of the age. The angels will come and separate the wicked from the righteous and throw them into the fiery furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” Both the real-life example and the words of Christ point to a separation, a distinction between the two groups. The least we can say of this comparison is that the outcomes are not identical. Any other kind of deconstructive interpretation reduces the teaching to gibberish.

The good news is that Jesus teaches that our volitional choices do make a difference. Justice is not crushed. Righteousness matters. Evil that apparently wins in this life does not win in the next. God’s love is not the universal acid that dissolves all his other virtues. What we do with God’s offer of life in Christ means something. And in those consequences, there is much to be thankful for.