Jesus also, that he might sanctify the people with his own blood, suffered outside the gate. Therefore, let us go forth to him outside the camp, bearing his reproach. For we have no continuing city here, but we seek one to come.
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There is no pride in hell; no one in hell is ashamed to cry out for mercy. Every soul cast into hell after death understands immediately what is right and what is wrong, but it is too late for that understanding to help them. Every soul in hell is crying out for mercy, but it is too late to receive it. Every person in hell has a great desire to obey the commandments of God, but for them, the acceptable time to obey God is past. And Jesus revealed to us that souls in hell, knowing their eternal destiny is sealed, plead for God to send somebody to their living loved ones to warn them to obey God so that they might escape that gruesome torment.
Often, when we think of the dead, we think of them as they were when they were alive on earth. That is a tragic mistake. When you picture the famed Elvis Presley, a founding father of the beastly music genre called "rock and roll", it is unwise to picture him as he was on earth. He is not like that now. Elvis is not wiggling his hips and smiling at a coliseum full of foolish, screaming girls today. This very moment, "the king", as he is called, is himself screaming for mercy, but will never find any. It is too late. Don't think of Rock Hudson or Frank Sinatra or Bette Davis, or any other such "star" as they once looked while they were covered with human flesh. They still appear in old movies as handsome and lovely and rich as ever, but all that has changed. That is NOT their present condition. Don't waste your time picturing John Lennon, Jimi Hendrix, and Janice Joplin as they were on earth. Things have changed. They are dead. Now they exist only as the damned, condemned by the righteous judgment of God for helping to lead a generation of young people away from God's love and into the pernicious maze of youthful lusts and rebellion.
Julius Caesar is no longer a flamboyant, immoral, brilliant military leader. He is a nobody, writhing in the flames of God's justice along with many whom he killed. Nobody in hell cares who he once was. He commands no respect among the damned. King Henry the Eighth no longer sees himself as the head of the Church of England; he despises that godless church and the cruel sins he committed that led to its formation. Cleopatra is no longer pampered by servants; she no longer sits seductively upon silk, conniving to gain more earthly power. She cares nothing for earthly power now. Her screams for mercy go unanswered, but she has nothing else to do in her pain but to continue to plead with God for it. Too late, your royal highness. Too late.
Because the history books can only record what is on this side of the grave, the history books can be very misleading. Their pictures of sinful but powerful and famous men and women of the past only show what those poor souls were while they lived on earth. The truth about them lies on the other side of the grave, where they are now, in a land where there is no longer any attractive flesh to conceal a filthy, ugly heart. Where is the history book that can describe for us the agonizing shrieks of glamourous Mae West, the foul-mouth actress of the early twentieth century whose immorality was legendary and who led many a young man into hell? She cares nothing for money now; she cares nothing now for the admiration of young men. Where is the history book that can report to you that truth?
Get real, and face the fact that all dead sinners are suffering great and endless agony, no longer envied by those around them, for everyone around them now knows them for what they really are. There are no masters or slaves in hell, for "there the slave is free of his master." There are no bullies and no cowards, no contests for high position. The one and only concern of the souls in that awful torment is somehow to find relief from the pain. But it will never be found. The rich and famous are no longer rich and famous. The handsome and popular are no longer handsome and popular. In the flames, the once arrogant purveyors of filthy, immoral "works of art" no longer justify their perverse lusts with explanations of an artist's need to express himself. They are too busy howling and squealing with indescribable torments. There, the authors of pornographic materials grind their teeth and bewail the day that they ever learned to read or write. There, musicians and singers who used their God-given talents to lure young people into sin hate themselves and their evil deeds far more than they ever dreamed of hating anyone else. In hell, vain philosophers are no longer philosophers at all, harsh rulers are no longer rulers at all, and once-mighty warriors no longer care to fight. In hell, there is no status, no wealth, no special privilege, no influence of anyone on anyone else. They all are "nobodies" now, just pathetic sinners who foolishly rejected God's precious offer of eternal life and peace through His Son Jesus.
Those on earth who are wise see men and women as they really are while they are living. They are not blinded by a person's fame or wealth, for they know that all such things exist only on this side of the grave. The greatly admired Madonna is a pathetic, wretched woman, whose soul is as black as death. What historian will follow her into hell when she goes there, to bring back her story? Isn't Britney Spears gorgeous? You fool! Look on the inside, where the truth is! "As a golden ring in a pig's snout, so is a beautiful woman without discretion." What will the lovely siren look like when death is feeding on her? She is admired only by those who are as blind as she is, only by those who are as consumed by lust as she is. They will all be gathered together in one place, and all of them will vehemently despise both her and themselves for their evil deeds.
How will the harlot allure men to sin when her body is decaying in the dust? And what will she do then with all her money? How will the liar find a listener in the Lake of Fire, where all anyone can do, forever, is to wail with agony? Who in hell will still be cheering for the once-haughty athlete who rejected the grace of God? What will his trophies mean to him then? And there will be no grand ceremony to announce his being dumped in with the rest of human trash. If there were any way to do so, he would gladly trade all his trophies and earthly honors for one more precious hour on earth, just so he could cry out to God and repent. But too late, hot shot. Too late.
In hell, everybody is a nobody. Everybody makes noise, and nobody is ashamed to do so. Every soul now in that dreadful place who while on earth complained about, or felt contempt for, or mocked God's children when they joyfully shouted, or praised, or sang, or prayed aloud to God is himself now unashamed to make a very great noise in a useless effort to be heard by Him. Make your cries count. Cry out to God while it can do you some good.
Listen to God's precious invitation to you: "Seek ye the LORD while He may be found. Call upon Him while He is near. Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts, and let him return unto the LORD, and He will have mercy upon him, and to our God, for He will abundantly pardon." Do you carry a weight of shame and guilt because of an abundance of sin? God has an abundance of mercy for you. You cannot be so bad that God can't make it right. We are not so powerful that we can out-sin God's power to forgive and to cleanse.
Don't be a fool. An ancient Latin writer penned some sobering words when he wrote, "Death whispers in my ear. He says, "Live! I am coming." Death is coming for you, my friend. We all must face it, for "it is appointed unto man once to die, and after that, the Judgment." Don't wait until the Day of Judgment to cry out for mercy. Use your voice now, while it can still do you some good. Jesus is listening for your cry, and you cannot make too much noise for him.