Wrath from a Father's Perspective

Since my son was born a week ago, my father-protector instincts have been off the charts. I feel such intense love and loyalty not only for Levi but also for my wife and daughter that I feel a ferocious compulsion to keep them safe from all harm. When I have perceived one of them being harmed, isolated, bullied, or shamed, I have reacted with surprising anger. It’s not just that I’m upset by the offender’s behavior and its unfortunate consequences on my family. The full force of my personal hatred for another human being is focused on that single person in that moment. Even if the offender is a close friend, I find that all my previous compassion and loyalty for that person is consumed in a split second by a murderous personal vendetta against them. I would sooner wipe them off the face of the earth than let them injure my own. I don’t care about the personal or environmental reasons for their behavior. All that matters in that moment is my family’s safety and wellbeing.

I’ve been totally taken aback by this response because I’m passive and rational by nature. I fear uncontrolled emotion, and 9 times out of 10 I’d rather internalize pain than defend myself. So this furious protectiveness is completely outside my comfort zone. I keep wondering if I’ve strayed from the gospel, imagining that passivity and grace are somehow tied together.

But the more I read the bible, the more I’m inclined to believe that I’m experiencing a microcosm of God’s Father heart for his creation. 4 months ago, I began to experience a profound sense of the Father’s love for me. Wave upon wave of His grace, acceptance, and delight washed over me in a daily encounter with Love. THAT experience empowered me to pull out of my miserly shell of judgmentalism and shame-based religion. Others close to me began to feel the overflow of that profound love that is free of accusation or moral browbeating.

Then I got to thinking…. If this is how much God loves His children, how does He feel when another person hurts His child? Suddenly the images of God riding on a thundercloud, melting mountains, and demanding justice started to make sense. I could understand why my sweet huggable Jesus is depicted in Isaiah as a man treading the winepress of God’s fury, robes stained with the blood of nations…. Or as the rider in Revelation with a deadly double-edged sword protruding from his mouth.

I began to understand Jesus’ fury when he shouted to the Pharisees, “Hypocrites! You travel over land and sea to win a single convert, and when he becomes one, you make him twice as much a son of hell as you are.” It’s not that Jesus hated Pharisees, but that he deeply loved people and that love displaced any shred of permissive compassion for those who wound His little children. No wonder he says, “It would be better for him to be thrown into the sea with a millstone tied around his neck than for him to cause one of these little ones to sin.”

What if God’s wrath didn’t come from an esoteric, abstract sense of justice? What if it came from a deep fatherly love multiplied by infinity? What if it really was personal?

In light of that… yes, I believe in Hell. If God’s love for His people is infinite and eternal, it makes sense that His final judgment against the wicked is neither temporary nor annihilistic. If suffering and love both exist, then wrath must also exist.

So it’s one of those paradoxes that I’ve grown accustomed to in the Christian faith. I live my life confidant of the tender, father heart of God. But at the same time, God scares the hell out of me because I know that His tender love extends to all people and I haven’t always treated others graciously. It’s not just a deferential respect towards my creator but a real sense of awe and fear.

As my fierce protective love for my family grows, so grows my understanding of God’s fierce personal love for His own and His wrath towards those who stand in opposition to that love.