Understanding the Wrath of God

Ok, one particular friend of mine and I have gone over this issue many times (and that dear friend knows who she is) :-) So I fondly look forward to her two-cents on this particular topic.

The "wrath of God" is something that makes the Lutherans among us rather uncomfortable. It's not something we like to think about and certainly doesn't seem to fit at times with an "always loving" God. Yet, something Rolf Jacobson said in his lovely little book "Crazy Talk" struck a chord with me. To quote:

The Anger of God: "The puzzling--to human beings--concept that God loves our neighbors so much that God gets angry at us when we do (or don't do) things and cause them to suffer."

Or, to quote Ricky Bobby from Talledega Nights: "I like the Christmas Jesus best." :-) (I still can't believe I used that clip in a sermon during Advent... the things I managed to get away with sometimes... if you've forgotten, here's the clip... Click Here.)

Luckily for me, I happened to have Dr. J for my prophets class, which means he made me actually think a little about this particular concept that we didn't particularly like to broach too much at seminary. Because we're Lutherans... we like our grace, not wrath. And most of the time, I would agree. But can we totally ignore the fact that sometimes, yes, God gets angry? And sometimes, he's angry with you and with me?

I see anger and love as two sides of the same coin. I call it God's "loving wrath." Stick with me here...

Too often in today’s world we try to separate wrath as being a part of God’s work in salvation. “God is love,” is thrown around in theological discussions like a haphazard hacky sack that fails to truly define or embody what exactly is meant by “love.” The preferred view of God is to see God’s love as always bestowing wonderful things upon us, and that God would never cause any sort of misfortune or pain. Thus we find ourselves with the “buddy Jesus” view of God (see "Dogma" if you haven't already to understand the reference) which completely dismisses the reality of God’s righteous anger that is prevalent throughout the entire Bible, both Old and New Testaments. We throw our sin against our neighbor on Jesus' shoulders, say God's wrath was spent there, and go on our merry way thinking all is swept under the rug. However, I think the key to understanding God’s wrath lies in understanding the nature of God's love. For anyone who has loved another, we recognize the reality that love, while at times wonderful, can also hurt—more deeply than if love were not involved at all.

After all...who do you get the angriest at? The people you love the most. Sure, you get angry with people who do bad things to you, and you get angry with lawmakers, leaders, judges, etc. who make bad choices, to the point that sometimes we run them into the ground, smear them at every turn, and do everything we can to make sure they aren't elected. However, at the end of the day, our most passionate anger usually lies with the people who mean the most to us when they hurt us. I may think someone's an idiot, but I rarely hold any lingering personal resentment or anger toward them for very long. I eventually just dismiss them for what they are in my view - hopeless idiots (although, God loves those idiots, too... Which is why God's love is far greater than my own! I try to say I lovingly dismiss them, but who are we kidding?) But the people who really hurt me, who really do a number on me, are the people I love the most. When love is betrayed, when love is thrown back in your face, when love is trampled on like old newspaper under a dog's behind, the result is anger. Or, as we sometimes like to call it, "wrath." And it's rarely pretty.

The problem is, in today's world, we are always trying to ascribe this thing or that thing to "God's Wrath." God's wrath against the licentious living in New Orleans caused the levees to fail... except, as Tony Compolo quite aptly pointed out, if that was the case, God missed the mark. Bourbon Street was left alone, it was all the poor people who couldn't get out that he destroyed. And admittedly, there are times in my life when I feel as though I'm being punished by God for things I've done in the past. Not always a healthy way to look at things, and let's face it, most Lutheran pastors out there would scream foul at such a thought... and I know that many times my misery is my own making... but I know it's crossed everyone else's mind out there, too, at one time or another. God wanted me to do this, I did something else, and now I'm suffering the consequences of that action. I still think there's more than a little truth to that. Actions in this life do have worldly consequences, as they should. But sometimes... I think a hurricane really is just a low pressure system... part of the natural order of our world that keeps our planet alive and thriving.

However, seeing Christ hanging on the cross reminds us of the very real nature of both God’s love and God’s wrath. God rages against sin, and rightfully so as it is what separates us from Him, to the point of death. And as none of us are without sin, we cannot view ourselves as being exempt from being targets of that wrath.

However, that wrath is not without its purpose and is not just a deity throwing a temper tantrum when He doesn’t get His way. Wrath, as an instrument of love (I know some of you are cringing at such a thought), is employed by God in order to bring about change, but is never the final answer. Wrath, while terrible and hurtful, is mitigated by mercy. God allowed the Babylonians and Assyrians to punish Israel, but did not abandon them and promised to bring them back to Him. God sent a flood, but desired not to totally obliterate creation. God banished Cain, but put a mark on his forehead so no one would kill him. Adam and Eve sinned in the garden of Eden, and the result was expulsion from the Garden and ultimate death. But that was not God's last word on this issue, either.

To look at Christ, then, is not to just shrug our shoulders, say thanks, and walk away... it is to see God’s love wrought through His wrath. Christ was crucified and took upon himself the full wrath of God’s anger against humanity’s sin. Were our story to end there, it would seem like God engages in divine child abuse. However... the story does not end there, because Christ was then raised from the dead three days later.

Thus, while I don't believe we can ignore God's anger and God's wrath at sin, what is important to remember is that the final answer lies not in the wrath and suffering of the crucified Christ, but in the hope of the resurrected Christ to which we must all cling, for there is where we find God’s mercy...and love. The two seem inseparable and must go hand in hand.

And, always remember, God's anger is temporary. Psalm 30:5 says, "God's anger is but for a moment; his favor is for a lifetime." To quote Rolf again, who was quoting Lincoln:

"God is angry with all of the people some of the time, God is angry with some of the people all of the time, but God is not angry with all of the people all of the time."

So while I'm not one to say that we don't have to pay the consequences for our actions, that God doesn't from time to time send something our way that seems terrible - we do know that no matter how angry God gets, it doesn't last forever... but his love does.

Are we accountable?

OK, I know... it's sad. I'm technically "on vacation" from the whole preaching and leading worship thing until I go through assignment and the call process, yadda yadda yadda, so one would expect I would want a break from looking at the weekly texts and spending time poring over them since I'll spend every week for the rest of my life doing this. Unfortunately, whether for ill or for good, I can't help myself from pondering some of these texts - the only difference is, what I ponder here is probably not exactly sermon fodder! But for a few of my fellow sem friends, they might possibly understand. :-)

The Old Testament reading for this Sunday was Ezekiel 33:7-11

So you, mortal, I have made a sentinel for the house of Israel; whenever you hear a word from my mouth, you shall give them warning from me. If I say to the wicked, "O wicked ones, you shall surely die," and you do not speak to warn the wicked to turn from their ways, the wicked shall die in their iniquity, but their blood I will require at your hand. But if you warn the wicked to turn from their ways, and they do not turn from their ways, the wicked shall die in their iniquity, but you will have saved your life.

Now you, mortal, say to the house of Israel, Thus you have said: "Our transgressions and our sins weigh upon us, and we waste away because of them; how then can we live?" Say to them, As I live, says the Lord GOD, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from their ways and live; turn back, turn back from your evil ways; for why will you die, O house of Israel?

The Old Testament is difficult for many of us to read and comprehend - especially for those of us who are Lutheran and rely so heavily on grace to save us, not our actions. Yet, the question remains, does Christ's blood release us from all responsibility? There's a double whammy going on in this text that rails against Lutheran sensibilities - on the one hand, the destruction of "the wicked" doesn't sound very nice and doesn't seem like something God should be doing, though it may be a justifiable destruction in the eyes of God (and most humans, for that matter) - but let's face it, no matter how just or righteous, God smiting people isn't something we're fond of talking about; on the other, the accountability of the prophet who is sent to speak the words of warning, for people to turn from their wicked ways in order to avert the wrath of God. Both of these issues are troubling for those of us who want our clean slate and free pass.

If we were huge free will proponents like the vast majority of our Christian counterparts, this text would be an easy and simple text to exegete: quite simply, the choice is yours. Heed the warning and be saved, don't heed it and be destroyed. Your choice. Same goes for the prophet: do as your told and be saved because you did your part; ignore me and stay silent and the blood of these wicked people will be upon your hands.

Yikes, yikes, and, well... yikes. I guess the question that all Christians, and Lutherans in particular, need to start asking themselves is will there still one day be an accounting for the things we do and the things we don't do? Is it possible to both be forgiven for the "things we've done and the things we have left undone" and still be held accountable in some fashion for these things?

The danger I have always seen in the way Lutheran theology sometimes gets interpreted is that because salvation has been "taken care of" by the death and resurrection of Jesus, and this changed the whole playing field in terms of human action earning salvation, we tend to get a bit complacent. No consequences for our actions is a wonderful thought.

However, I'm reminded of a friend of mine who just started her first call at a church that is not overly welcoming to visitors and "outsiders." She asked them what they wanted to do: change and become more welcoming or stay the way they are and quietly die. One woman responded she was fine with allowing their church to just quietly die out. When my friend challenged them with the Great Commission, the responsibility of all Christians to go out and make disciples, their response was, "We're Lutheran. That's not our theology." Hmmmm... it's not our theology - yet Christ is telling us to do it... what to do?! How do we reconcile a "no action" to save ourselves theology with a call by Christ and God to actually DO something?

"Salvation by coma" (as one of my professors once called it) seems somewhat un-biblical in my view. We agree, we cannot save ourselves, Christ takes care of that, and we are passive recipients of God's grace...but does that mean that there is no accountability, that there is no day when we'll stand before the judge and be held accountable in some fashion for failing to speak God's word when we've been told to, or hated when we should have loved, etc. etc.?

I'm reminded of the two books that are opened in Revelation (perhaps not the best book in the world to base all of one's theology upon, however, there it stands). An image of God opening 1) the book of life, and 2) the books of deeds. Both are at play, and neither idea is overly comforting. Because on the one hand, whoever is in the book of life, their name is there solely at the whim of God - it has nothing to do with deeds. However, there's this second GROUP of books that is based on our deeds... both options are scary! I suppose I would be willing to dismiss this point if it were a stand-alone statement not held up anywhere else in the Bible. The problem is, the entire Bible is always mixed with these two issues that are so simply portrayed in Rev. 20:12: grace mingled with human accountability. Even Paul, our great "grace" theologian finds himself caught in this strange paradox, admitting that all fall short of the glory of God (Rom. 3:23), yet also stating there are those who when they continue in their wickedness and do not bear the marks of a "true Christian" may not be "acceptable" (Rom. 12) in the eyes of God. Christ did not condemn the adulterous woman, yet still told her to "go and sin no more." Grace - yes. Accountability - yes. OY!

Repentance is replete within the Bible. You find calls for it everywhere, yet it's a word we Lutherans shy away from because it somehow insinuates that there is an action on our part, that we somehow do have to do SOMETHING. That we have to turn from our evil ways, seek God's forgiveness that is given so freely.

I suppose where I find myself turning then is to people like Abraham and David. God loved them, God continued to call them both a friend of God and a man after God's own heart - yet Abraham and David did do things that had consequences. Abraham didn't trust God when he should have and thus, now Isaac's line and Ishmael's line are forever at odds with one another. David committed adultery and murder, and there were dire consequences as a result. Did God forgive? Absolutely. Did it mean there was no longer some sort of judgment or no "accountability"? No. It seems clear that God's forgiveness is sure, but that we are also still somehow held accountable for our actions. To what end, well - I suppose that remains to be seen. Some consequences we witness first hand. Others, take longer to rear their ugly head... and others may still be waiting for us beyond the grave. Christ took the ultimate consequence of sin upon himself - death. Because of that, we have been assured we will share in a death and resurrection like His... does that mean every consequence of every sin that we commit is swallowed up in Christ? Ultimately, yes... but we also have to recognize that our sins still have very real consequences on others in the here and now. The "now but not yet."

I think the thing that sticks out the most in the Ezekiel passage for me is when it says that God does not delight in destroying the wicked. Instead, he would much rather see the wicked repent of their ways - and the only way in which that happens is if someone speaks up. The possibility for repentance can begin, but if those of us who have been given this "great commission" prefer to stay silent, will their blood also be upon our hands in some fashion as this passage suggests?

Even our Gospel lesson for today (Matt. 18:15-20) lends itself to the question of responsibility--of call and response. Calling one to task for something they are doing and showing them the error of their ways so that they might repent, and if they fail to do so, then out of the community they go. Again, not something we're fond of doing and in fact, something few of us are willing to do. But, as I have discovered, there's a fine line between loving someone and enabling someone. It is difficult for us to call people out on things, because who are we, sinners that we are, to ever judge another? The problem seems to me, however, to be that we are mixing up judgment with accountability. We don't pass judgment, but we are accountable to point out wrongs when they arise. Yet, to do so might make us very unpopular, and bring down the scorn of our friends, colleagues, and even parishioners. We avoid those calls like the plague because of how they might make us look - like we're somehow "holier than thou" or pretending to act like we know the will of God in some fashion. Well, we may not always know what God's will is from one moment to the next, one incident to another - but there are sometimes things that we do know because they have been revealed to us through scripture. One of those is that God's will and desire is for NONE to perish, that all might repent and be brought back to God.

Obviously, I'm not going to solve these paradoxical elements in a single, simple blog - after all, we've been struggling with these ideas for 2000 years, I hardly think I'm going to figure out the answer. And perhaps we're not meant to - perhaps living with the tension is God's will and intention! Another of those mysteries that we don't fully comprehend or understand because we aren't God. However, I do know this - I do have a responsibility and I do believe that one day I will be held accountable for the things I do and don't do. Forgiven, yes - but still held accountable. I'm not sure what those consequences may one day be, but they undoubtedly exist, nonetheless. It is both a terrifying and reassuring thought that we have to leave such things up to God - so the paradox continues! :-)

Now the question is - how do we convey to our parishioners that paradox? That they are both saved by grace through faith alone, yet God still demands that we DO something in this life? That we continue to care for our neighbor and that not only matters to God, but that we will be held accountable in some fashion by God if we fail to do so?