Fear. Who’s Really Afraid?

When we talk about fear in the church, the assumption is often that the people in the pews are the ones trembling. But that’s not the full picture. In truth, many of the most terrified people are the ones behind the pulpits. Preachers themselves are often trapped in cultish fear. Not just fear of God—but fear of being wrong, fear of rejection, fear of losing their reputation, their income, their influence, or their place within a denominational system.

So what happens? The doctrine of fear becomes sacred. It gets woven into the fabric of the gospel itself. Eternal torment is defended not because it is beautiful or true, but because it is terrifying to let go of. And so, fear becomes the real god many serve.

The Cult Logic Exposed

Strip down ECT and Annihilationism to their bare logic and you’ll see something disturbing:

• ECT says: “Love me or be tortured without end.”
• Annihilationism says: “Love me or be destroyed forever.”

This is cult logic. It is the same psychological trap used by abusers and terrorists: submit or suffer. It is coercion masquerading as love. And tragically, it has been normalized and even sanctified by religious institutions for centuries. People are told to praise a God who, by the standards of basic morality, would be considered a monster.

And yet this is preached as “Good News”? One mother lives out the logic—tries to “save” her kids from hell by killing them—and we call it psychosis. But a preacher says the same thing with a microphone and we call it orthodoxy.

When Fear Becomes Their God

Beneath the doctrine is a deeper idolatry. It’s not just fear of God, but fear instead of God. Many in ministry are held hostage by what others will think if they abandon ECT. They’re afraid of what their denomination will say, what their elders will do, what their peers will whisper. Some fear losing their job. Others fear being called a heretic.

And so, instead of proclaiming the liberating love of God, they perpetuate fear to protect their place. The pulpit becomes a prison. And they call it faithfulness, when in truth, it is bondage.

Three Kinds of Silence

But not every preacher who keeps quiet is the same. Some fall into one of three camps:

1. The Silenced: These are the ones who know ECT is false. They feel the weight of truth, but stay quiet because they know what will happen if they speak. They fear the backlash, the lost friendships, the firing.
2. The Deceived: These are still lost in the fog of tradition. They have been so deeply trained in fear that they believe it is the gospel. They’re not malicious—they’re trapped.
3. The Unaware: These genuinely have no idea there’s another way to see the story. They inherited ECT like a family heirloom, never questioning its origin.

In every case, the result is the same: the proclamation of the true God of love is stifled, muffled, or buried beneath layers of fear.

The Long Shadow: False Gospel, False Translations, False Fathers

The church today still walks in the shadow of a forged gospel. This shadow is long and deep, stretching back to:

• False translations: When Jerome mistranslated key terms—“aiōn” into “eternal,” Sheol and Hades into “Hell,” the trajectory of scripture was hijacked. These mistranslations weren’t innocent; they fit the control narrative of Rome.
• False fathers: Men like Augustine, who blended scripture with Platonic philosophy, redefined God through fear and hierarchy. These men are still praised today, even though their legacy is terror cloaked in theology.

And the tragedy is this: the church still falsely esteems these voices. It quotes Augustine like scripture, trusts Jerome without question, and bows to a shadow gospel that turns Good News into good behavior under threat.

The Thought Experiment That Breaks ECT

God’s first command to mankind was this: “Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth” (Genesis 1:28).

But ask yourself: Multiply for what? If ECT is true, then this command becomes a horror. Why would a loving God command billions of people into existence if the vast majority are destined for eternal torment? That’s not a blessing. That’s a slaughterhouse.

God repeats this command:

• To Noah: Be fruitful and fill the earth (Genesis 9:1).
• To Abraham: I will make you exceedingly fruitful (Genesis 17:6).
• To Jacob: A company of nations will come from you (Genesis 35:11).
• To Israel: God will prosper the fruit of your womb (Deuteronomy 30:9).

Every time, fruitfulness is framed as blessing. Not once is it painted as a risk. Yet, if ECT is true, childbirth becomes a gamble with eternal consequence. And if that were reality, then the most loving thing we could do is stop creating life altogether.

The Case That Unmasks the Doctrine

In 2001, Andrea Yates, a Texas mother, drowned her five children in a bathtub. Her reason? She believed she was saving them from hell. Society called her insane. Doctors called it psychosis. The courts declared her mentally ill.

But the doctrine that drove her decision? That’s still called “orthodoxy” in most churches. The very same belief that, in practice, led to horror and death is praised when preached abstractly from a pulpit.

This raises the uncomfortable question: Who really believed it more? The mother who acted on it? Or the preacher who says it but never lives as if it’s true?

If ECT is true, Andrea Yates might be the most consistent believer we’ve ever seen. If ECT is false, then her story is a grim parable of what happens when hellfire theology is taken to its logical end.

“God Didn’t Call Her to Do That”

People will argue: “God didn’t call her to do that. She’s not God. That wasn’t her place.”

But that argument exposes something deeper. If it’s morally repugnant for her to act on that doctrine, then how can it be holy for God to do the very thing she believed she was mimicking?

What ECT defenders are really saying is this: “You shouldn’t act like God. Just reflect His character.”

But here’s the contradiction: if God’s character is eternal torture, how can that ever be reflected without horror? If Andrea Yates did what God will do to billions, then shouldn’t her actions be praised rather than condemned? The fact that we recoil from her proves that we don’t believe this is who God is.

We just haven’t admitted it yet.

The Hypocrisy No One Wants to Own

If Christians truly believed that most of humanity is destined for eternal torment, they wouldn’t be having children. They wouldn’t celebrate weddings. They wouldn’t bless babies.

They would live in constant horror. They would be up all night. They would mourn every birth as a possible ticket to eternal agony. But they don’t. Their actions betray their doctrine. Because deep down, they don’t believe it.

And if they did? They would have to agree that Andrea Yates did what they’re all too afraid to do.

The Witness of Love

Scripture sings a different song:

• “Perfect love casts out fear” (1 John 4:18).
• God “desires all people to be saved” (1 Timothy 2:4).
• “As in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall all be made alive” (1 Corinthians 15:22).
• “The free gift leads to justification and life for all” (Romans 5:18).
• “When I am lifted up, I will draw all people to myself” (John 12:32).

These verses are not exceptions. They are the melody line of the gospel. The story is not one of mass damnation—it is the relentless pursuit of a Father who will not lose any of His children.

Quick Scan: Why ECT and Annihilationism Fail

• They make fear the foundation of the gospel.
• They turn the command to multiply into a command to increase God’s fuel supply.
• They paint a God whose actions cannot be imitated without horror.
• They require people to live in contradiction: preach terror, bless new life.
• They are built on shadows: mistranslations, philosophical imports, and false fathers.
• They deny the plain message of scripture: God will restore all.

Conclusion: When the Light Breaks, Shadows Flee

A doctrine that cannot be lived without producing madness is not a doctrine from heaven. If you cannot embody your theology without being labeled insane, then your theology has already judged itself.

God is not a torturer. He is not a destroyer of most. He is a Redeemer. A Father. A Restorer of all things.

The command to be fruitful and multiply is not a cruel gamble—it is the heartbeat of a story that ends not in ashes, but in glory. Not in torment, but in reconciliation.

Because the Father doesn’t need more fuel for His fire. He’s building a family.