Rethinking God With Tacosਨਮੂਨਾ

Day 6: A Love Much Better Than We Thought:

Today, we’re stepping into two of the most complex and emotional conversations in theology: universalism and hell. For many of us, these topics are surrounded by fear, tension, and decades of inherited ideas. But the goal isn’t to land on a rigid position. The goal is to rethink through the lens of measureless, unconditional love.

Let’s begin here: God is not afraid of your questions. And neither is the gospel. Jesus didn’t avoid hard conversations—He stepped into them. He brought clarity, but He also made room for mystery. So today, we do the same.

The question behind universalism isn’t really, “Does everyone get in?” It’s actually, “Is God as good as Jesus revealed?” That’s what we should consider—not by ignoring Scripture, but by rereading it with trust that God’s character is consistent with Christ.

In Acts 17:28 (NIV), Paul says, “For in him we live and move and have our being.” He’s speaking not just to believers, but to all people. Paul is acknowledging that all of creation is already wrapped in the measureless, unconditional love of God.

Whether we see it or not, whether we believe it or not, there’s no such thing as life apart from Him. That truth changes the starting point for this conversation. We’re not discussing hell or universalism through the lens of separation but through the revelation of union.

If 1 John 1:5 is true—and it is—“God is light; in Him there is no darkness at all,” then everything we think we know about judgment, wrath, and even hell has to pass through that light. No shadow. No spite. No abandonment.

If God is love—and He is—and if that love was fully revealed in Jesus, reconciling the world to Himself, refusing to count our delusion and distance against us, then His justice cannot look like retribution. It must look like restoration.

It must look like Jesus.
Nailed to a tree.
Still loving.
Still forgiving.
Still refusing to leave.

That’s what His correction looks like—not punishment, but presence. A fierce, radiant grace that doesn’t flinch at our worst and doesn’t quit on our darkest day.

“Forgive them.” Jesus said.

This doesn’t mean we dismiss verses about hell or judgment. Far from it. But it does mean we read them differently—not as threats of separation from a distant deity, but as relational truths that reveal grace and empower repentance that we might be transformed.

As my friend, John Crowder puts it, “Hell is the distortion of the human condition, not God separating Himself from us.”

What if hell isn’t a punishing fiery torture chamber at the end of the road, but is simply any area of our lives where fear is elevated over love?

And what if—even then—God doesn’t walk away?

Psalm 139:8 (NIV) says, “If I make my bed in the depths, You are there.”
Even in the depths—even in the places we’ve called “God-forsaken”—He’s present. He’s not repelled by our brokenness. He moves toward it. He enters it. And He brings light.

And woven through Scripture are bold, hope-filled glimpses of something deeper than punishment—restoration.

First Corinthians 15:22 (NIV) says, “For as in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive.”

Not some.
Not maybe.
All.

That doesn’t mean everyone wakes up to it at the same time, but it does suggest that Jesus’s reach is far greater than we’ve dared to imagine. It suggests His love is unconditional and measureless.

Then there’s the vision in Philippians 2:10–11 (NIV): “That at the name of Jesus every knee should bow . . . and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord.”

Not by force. Not through fear. But through the unveiled recognition of truth. Through a measureless love that never steps outside consent, but breaks through every barrier.

We don’t need to force universal conclusions. But we can hold a hopeful posture. We can believe in a love that’s stronger than death, more faithful than our fear, and unwilling to quit on anyone. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever.

Instead of shrinking the gospel to fit our categories of in or out, saved or lost, worthy or unworthy—what if we let it expand our hearts? What if we let Jesus stretch our understanding until it reflects the vast, inclusive, redeeming, transforming love of God?

Because grace doesn’t stop at the edge of our understanding. And love doesn’t have an off switch.