The way out?

The Stygian Realms—An Account by Robert Hugh Benson

At close view, it became clear that these dwellings were nothing more than mere hovels. They were distressing to gaze upon, but it was infinitely more distressing to contemplate that these were the fruits of men's lives upon earth. We did not enter any of the shacks—it was repulsive enough outside, and we could have served no useful purpose at the time by going in. Edwin, therefore, provided a few details instead. Some of the inhabitants, he said, had lived here—or hereabouts—year after year, as time is reckoned upon earth. They themselves had no sense of time, and their existence had been one interminable continuity of darkness, through no one's fault but their own.

Many good souls have penetrated these Stygian realms to attempt a rescue from the darkness. Some have been successful—others have not. Success depended not so much upon the rescuer as upon the rescued. If the latter showed no glimmer of light in his mind—no desire to take a step forward on the spiritual road—then nothing, literally nothing, could be done. The urge had to come from within the fallen soul himself.

And how low some of them had fallen!

Never must it be supposed that those who, in the world’s judgment, have failed spiritually have fallen low. Many such have not failed at all, but are, in fact, worthy souls whose fine reward awaits them here. On the other hand, there were those whose earthly lives had been spiritually hideous, though outwardly sublime—those whose religious profession, signaled by a Roman collar, had been taken for granted as synonymous with spirituality of soul. Such people had been mocking God throughout their sanctimonious lives on earth, where they lived with an empty show of holiness and goodness.

Here, they stand revealed for what they are. But the God they have mocked for so long does not punish. They punish themselves!

The people living within the hovels we passed were not necessarily those who had committed crimes in the eyes of earthly society. There were many who, while doing no active harm, had never done any good to a single mortal. These were people who lived entirely for themselves without a thought for others. Such souls constantly harped upon the theme that they had "done no harm to anyone," yet they had harmed themselves.

Just as the higher spheres created the beauties of those realms, the denizens of these lower spheres built the appalling conditions of their spirit life. There was no light in the lowest realms—no warmth, no vegetation, and no beauty.

But there was hope—hope that every soul there would progress. It was in the power of each soul to do so, and nothing stood in their way but themselves. It might take countless thousands of years to raise themselves a single inch spiritually, but it would be an inch in the right direction.

The thought inevitably occurred to me of the doctrine of eternal damnation, so beloved by orthodox religion, and of the everlasting fires of hell. If this place could be called hell—as it no doubt would be by theologians—then there was certainly no evidence of fire or heat. On the contrary, there was only a cold, dark atmosphere. 

Spirituality means warmth in the spirit world—a lack of spirituality means coldness.

The doctrine of hellfire—a fire that burns but never consumes—is one of the most outrageously stupid and ignorant doctrines ever invented by equally ignorant churchmen. Who actually invented it is unknown, but it is still rigorously upheld by the church. Even the slightest acquaintance with spirit life reveals its utter impossibility, as it contradicts the very laws of spirit existence. That concerns its literal side—what of the shocking blasphemy it involves? 

When Edwin, Ruth, and I were on earth, we were asked to believe that God, the Father of the Universe, punishes people by condemning them to burn in the flames of hell for all eternity. Could there ever be a grosser travesty of the God that orthodoxy professes to worship?

The churches have built a monstrous conception of the Eternal Father. They have made of Him, on one hand, a being to be placated through shallow lip service, expensive buildings, and groveling contrition. They profess to fear Him—fear Him who is All Love! On the other hand, they paint a picture of a God who, without compunction, casts poor human souls into an eternity of unquenchable fire.

We are taught glibly to beg for God's mercy. 

The church's God is a being of extraordinary moods who must be continually placated. It is by no means certain that, having begged for mercy, we shall receive it. He is portrayed as vengeful and unforgiving, commanding trivialities embodied in dogmas that expose a small mind rather than a great one. This doctrine makes the doorway to salvation so narrow that few souls could ever pass through. It has built a vast organization known as "the Church" to be the sole depository of truth—an organization that knows practically nothing of the spirit world, yet dares to lay down the law to incarnate souls and assign attributes to the Great Father that He could not possibly possess.

What do such petty minds know of the Great and Almighty Father of Love?

Think again of the horrors I have enumerated. Then contemplate this—a heaven of more beauty than the mind of man can comprehend—a place of peace, goodwill, and love. All these things are built by the inhabitants and upheld by the Father in His love for all mankind.

What of the lower realms? 

The very fact that we are visiting them leads me to speak in this fashion. Standing in this darkness, I am fully conscious of one great reality—the high spheres of heaven are within the reach of every mortal soul. The potential for progression is unlimited—it is the right of every soul. God condemns no one. Man condemns himself, but he does not do so eternally. It rests with him when he will move forward.

Every spirit hates the lower realms for the unhappiness found there, and for no other reason. Because of this, great organizations exist to help every soul living in darkness rise into the light. That work will continue through countless ages until every soul is brought out from these hideous places.

This has been a long digression—let us return to our travels. You will recall my mention of the heavenly scents from the floating flowers in our realm. Here, the opposite was true. Our nostrils were assailed by foul odors reminiscent of the corruption of flesh. They were nauseating, but Edwin told us to treat them as we had the cold—by simply closing our minds to them. We did so and were perfectly successful. 

It is not only sanctity that has its odor!

In our own realm, we enjoyed beauty and happy converse. Here, all was bleak and desolate. Occasionally, we caught a glimpse of the faces of the unfortunates we passed. Some were unmistakably evil—others revealed the miser, the avaricious, or the "brute beast." There were people from every walk of life and every century.

Edwin told us we would be appalled by the names, well known in history, of people living in these noxious regions—men who had perpetrated vile deeds in the name of religion or for material ends. 

Many were unapproachable and would remain so for centuries until they chose to move toward the light.

We saw bands of seemingly demented souls, their bodies reflecting the hideous distortions of their evil minds. In the higher spheres, beauty of mind rejuvenates the features, returning the soul to the "prime of life." Here, the opposite was true. The sounds were equally awful, ranging from raucous laughter to the shriek of a soul in torment—torment inflicted by others as bad as themselves.

Once or twice, we were spoken to by courageous rescue souls. 

We were visible to them, but invisible to the inhabitants of the dark lands, as we were protected by Edwin’s influence. If any priest could have but one glimpse of what we saw, he would never again say that a God of Love could condemn a soul to such horrors. 

Even a man would not condemn another to such a place—is man more merciful than God? No. Man alone qualifies himself for his state of existence.

The more we saw, the more I realized how fantastic the teaching of an "Eternal Hell" ruled by a "Prince of Darkness" truly is. Edwin told us there was no evidence of such a personage. Those who have traversed every inch of the lower realms have found no such being. The idea of a King of Evil opposing the King of Heaven is primitive and barbaric.

The Devil as a solitary individual does not exist. 

An evil soul might be called a devil, and in that case, there are many. It is amusing to hear a spiritually blind priest profess to know about things of which he is completely ignorant. 

The spirit people have broad backs—they can support the weight of such fallacious rubbish with nothing but pity.

The Church's method of frightening people is not the method of the spirit world. We would rather dwell upon the glories that await every soul. It remains with each individual whether they reach this beautiful land sooner or later. But once there, they may live always in perpetual summer.