All Hallows', Gospel Oak

All Hallows’ Church is situated in London’s wonderfully named district of Gospel Oak, close by Hampstead Heath. Its current representative in the Commons is Sir Keir Starmer, Leader of His Majesty's Loyal Opposition. The church itself is one of the most solid-looking I have ever seen. A spire or belltower might have offset this rather heavy feel that the main building seems to have. Despite its apparent thickness and bulk, and the thin lancet windows of its Early English style, its interior is light and airy. At least that is how it appeared from my vantage point; the glass doors through which visitors would enter were all locked, allowing a reasonable view of the interior, but no admission. I could admire the contents of this vast, cavern-like church, but only from afar. There may have been very sensible reasons for this selective security; the idle teens and tramps of Gospel Oak may have turned that fine building into a den of vice or an unsightly dosshouse, given half a chance. Yet I, a church aficionado, could only admire, but not touch.

In Luke 16’s account of the rich man and Lazarus, the former dwells in Hades while still being able to view Lazarus over in Abraham’s bosom. Even from hell, the citizens of heaven could be seen, but not touched, a great chasm located between them. This is a disturbing thought, but what about this one from Revelation 14:10?

He himself shall also drink of the wine of the wrath of God, which is poured out full strength into the cup of His indignation. He shall be tormented with fire and brimstone in the presence of the holy angels and in the presence of the Lamb.

We understand hell as ‘the place where God is not’, that area from which He has utterly withdrawn His gracious presence. Yet the above passage indicates that the eternal punishment of the Beast and his devotees will remain observable, at least to the angels and to the Lord Himself, if not to us.

I dare not assert that the forgiven in heaven and the unforgiven in hell will be able to behold each others’ conditions; scripture does not generally indicate this, and it does seem a somewhat appalling prospect. I rather suspect that the redeemed will have their memories partially wiped to prevent their sorrowing over hades' grievous population. Yet hell must, I think, be a dreadful place for those who finally recognise God’s mercy and grace and their own hard hearts' refusal. They may see, or at least know of heaven, but they can only consider it from afar; if the doors are like All Hallows’, which allow vision but not movement, it will make hell all the worse.

When thou, my righteous Judge, shalt come
 To take thy ransomed people home,
 Shall I among them stand?
 Shall such a worthless worm as I,
 Who sometimes am afraid to die,
 Be found at thy right hand?

I love to meet among them now,
 Before thy gracious feet to bow,
 Though vilest of them all;
 But can I bear the piercing thought:
 What if my name should be left out,
 When thou for them shalt call?

Prevent, prevent it by thy grace;
 Be thou, dear Lord, my hiding-place,
 In this the accepted day;
 Thy pardoning voice, O let me hear,
 To still my unbelieving fear;
 Nor let me fall, I pray.

Let me among thy saints be found
 Whene’er the archangel’s trump shall sound,
 To see thy smiling face;
 Then loudest of the crowd I’ll sing,
 While heaven’s resounding mansions ring
 With shouts of sovereign grace.

-Lady Huntingdon’s hymbook, 1774