
Hell... There is an exit as well as an entrance
What I learned about hell this week…
I’ve been thinking a lot about D&C 19. It’s one of those sections that makes you stop and wrestle with the way you think about God—about His justice, His mercy, and what it really means when we talk about hell.
Martin Harris was in a hard place when this revelation came. The Book of Mormon was at the printer, but the financial burden was crushing. E.B. Grandin wouldn’t print a single copy without full payment upfront. The cost? More than Martin could comfortably afford. He was going to have to sell his farm. That kind of stress is enough to keep anyone up at night. But it seems like money wasn’t the only thing weighing on him.
Beneath all the external pressure, Martin was battling something deeper—shame. Ever been there? That feeling that no matter what you do, you’ve messed up too big this time? That the mistakes you’ve made are permanent? That the consequences will follow you forever?
Martin had already lived through one of the greatest regrets of his life—the loss of the first manuscript of the Book of Mormon. And it seems like that mistake haunted him. He wasn’t just afraid of losing money. He was afraid of losing his soul. The first thing the Lord talks to him about in this revelation isn’t finances—it’s fear. Specifically, the fear of “endless torment.”
I don’t know about you, but those words send a chill down my spine. Endless. Torment. That’s the kind of phrase that makes you want to shrink. And Martin must have felt the weight of it, because he asked the Lord to explain. And what the Savior said was surprising.
“Endless torment” isn’t actually endless. Not in the way Martin feared. The Lord explained, “I am Endless, and the punishment which is given from my hand is endless punishment, for Endless is my name.” (D&C 19:10–12).
This changed everything. God’s justice is real, but His punishment isn’t some bottomless pit with no way out. His name is Endless, and so His punishment is called endless—not because it lasts forever, but because it’s His. James E. Talmadge put it this way: “To Hell there is an exit as well as an entrance…No man will be kept in Hell longer than is necessary to bring him to a fitness for something better.”
That phrase stayed with me. There is an exit as well as an entrance.
Have you ever felt stuck in your own version of hell? Maybe it’s a mistake you can’t undo. A past you can’t change. A consequence you have to carry. And you start to believe that this is just how it’s going to be forever. That this pain, this guilt, this burden—this is yours to hold indefinitely.
But the message of D&C 19 is this: that’s not how God works.
Yes, there are consequences. Yes, we all make choices that bring pain. But God’s plan has always been about redemption, not endless punishment. And He wants us to know that, deeply.
That’s why, right after explaining this to Martin, the Savior gives one of the most personal, heartbreaking descriptions of Gethsemane we have in scripture. The only firsthand account of what really happened there.
“For behold, I, God, have suffered these things for all, that they might not suffer if they would repent…which suffering caused myself, even God, the greatest of all, to tremble because of pain, and to bleed at every pore, and to suffer both body and spirit.” (D&C 19:16–19)
Jesus didn’t just suffer for sin. He suffered for shame. For regret. For the belief that there’s no way out. And the whole point of Gethsemane—the whole point of this conversation with Martin—is that we don’t have to stay in that place.
To hell, there is an exit.
And sometimes, the hardest part is believing that’s true for us.
Whatever version of hell you feel stuck in, remember this: the Savior has already opened the way out. And He’s standing at the door, ready to lead you through