Hell, God’s Wrath, and the Gospel

It’s amazing how upset some Christians get when you question God’s wrath.

I posted this on my social media the other day:

If the gospel is that Jesus died to appease God’s wrath against us because of our sin so that we can go to heaven and not to hell, why doesn’t any description of “gospel” in the NT say that? Why don’t any of the gospel proclamations in Acts say that?

Simple answer: because that’s not the gospel.

I thought it would be best not to leave people hanging, so I kindly gave my thoughts on what the New Testament gospel is:

The gospel according to the NT? More like this: God has acted through Jesus of Nazareth, Messiah and Lord—through his life, teachings, death, and resurrection, by the power of the Spirit—to begin to make right all that is wrong in the world because of human sin, to bring about God’s reign of justice and peace and life on earth.

A small ruckus developed over the first of those posts, as people missed the point to point out that Jesus’ death to save us from God’s wrath is indeed found in the New Testament.

I say they “missed the point” because I was being rather precise in my initial post. Let me parse this out by asking, and attempting to answer, two distinct questions.

First, was the idea that Jesus died to appease God’s wrath against us for our sin, or the idea that Jesus saves us from a post-mortem hell to a post-mortem heaven, part of the apostolic gospel proclamation?

The answer to this is, I would say, a pretty resounding “no.”

The language of “gospel” (εὐαγγέλιον, euangelion) or “preaching the gospel” (especially εὐαγγελίζω, euangelizō) occurs over 120 times in the New Testament. It’s used to describe everything from the whole story of Jesus’ public ministry from his baptism to his resurrection (e.g. Mark 1:1), to focusing in on one or more specific aspects of Jesus’ ministry, such as his death and resurrection (e.g. 1 Cor 15:1-5) or simply his death (e.g. 1 Cor 1:17). Other aspects that are highlighted in New Testament gospel descriptions? That Jesus is Messiah and Lord (e.g. Rom 1:1-4; 2 Tim 2:8), that Jesus’ death is “for our sins” (e.g. 1 Cor 15:3), that through Jesus God’s kingdom has come near (e.g. Mark 1:14-15), and that these things were foretold by and are explained by the Jewish Scriptures (e.g. 1 Cor 15:3-4).

Interestingly—and not surprisingly, when you think about it—the evangelistic speeches in Acts confirm these themes. According to Luke in Acts, when the apostles preached the gospel, they told the story of Jesus, Messiah and Lord, who, though his life, teachings, death, resurrection, and exaltation, and in accordance with the Scriptures, has brought about God’s kingdom and offers God’s forgiveness (e.g. Acts 2:14-36; 10:36-43; 13:16-41; see also summaries like 5:42; 8:12, 35; 11:20; 17:18).

Nothing is said in any of this about a post-mortem hell or of God’s wrath against sin, and certainly not in connection with Jesus’ death. Yes, the gospel proclamation could focus on Jesus’ death, and even that Jesus’ death was “for our sins” (again, 1 Cor 15:3). But this simply means that Jesus died “with respect to” our sins in some way—it leaves open to apostolic interpretation exactly how Jesus’ death is “for our sins.” One must make several behind-the-scenes leaps to get from “Jesus died for our sins” to “Jesus died to appease God’s wrath against us for our sins.”

In other words, my social media posts are correct. The gospel proclaimed by the apostles did not include ideas of Jesus’ death appeasing God’s wrath or delivering us from a post-mortem hell. Rather, the apostolic gospel told the story of Jesus, Messianic King and Lord, as God’s good news for the world.

This has immediate implications for how we proclaim the gospel today—which was the implicit point of my online posts.

Most popular understandings of the Christian gospel today focus on Jesus’ death to the exclusion of Jesus’ life, teachings, and often even resurrection. And they focus on Jesus’ death as penal substitutionary atonement: Jesus dying in our place to appease God’s wrath against us for our sins, and to deliver us from hell to heaven after we die. But this is not the gospel. The gospel is much bigger—and much better news—than that.

There’s a second question, though, which many of my online commenters were really getting at. Were these ideas—Jesus’ death appeasing God’s wrath, or delivering us from hell to heaven—part of apostolic teaching? In other words, granted that these were not part of New Testament gospel preaching, they could still have been part of what the apostles believed and taught in explaining Jesus’ death and salvation.

This is less clear—and also wasn’t my point in my social media posts. But here’s where some of my current thinking is at on this question.

The clearest description of what is meant by God’s wrath—not in highly symbolic apocalyptic literature where figurative language abounds—is found in Romans 1. There Paul describes the “wrath of God” being revealed against human sin—and it’s not some future, post-mortem hell. Rather, the wrath of God is God giving humans over to their sin (1:24, 26, 28). In other words, we create our own hell on earth, and God lets us experience the hell we’ve created for ourselves. That’s “God’s wrath.”

This fits well with the language of divine wrath in the Old Testament—it’s individual humans or human societies experiencing the consequences of their own sinful ways, not in some future hell but here on earth, whether in the present or in the future. The most direct parallels to New Testament divine wrath language, for example, describe the destruction of Jerusalem in 586 B.C.E. as a day of God’s wrath (e.g. Lam 1:12). On a related note, see my musings on Jesus’ “hell” language here.

Then there’s the question of whether Jesus’ death appeases God’s wrath. The texts people most frequently point to related to this—whether “propitiation” texts like 1 John 2:2 or more general texts like Romans 5:8-9—aren’t as clear as those folks like to think. Examining those texts is beyond the scope of this already-long blog post; perhaps I’ll tackle that another time. I’m willing to concede that a very few of these texts could be legitimately read as pointing to penal substitution, but New Testament atonement scholars these days acknowledge that at most this is a minor theme among many others in the New Testament used to explain the meaning of Jesus’ death. I’ve given a few thoughts on a non-penal substitution understanding of Jesus’ death as atonement here.

In summary, then: the apostles didn’t proclaim as gospel the idea that Jesus died to appease God’s wrath against us for our sins, to bring us from a hell to heaven—and it’s at least possible they may not have even believed these ideas at all.


© Michael W. Pahl

The Horrors of the Apocalypse

Revelation 6, the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse: domination, war, economic injustice, and death.

Revelation 8-9, the Seven Trumpets and Three Woes: volcanoes, earthquakes, plagues of insects and disease, and war, always more war.

Revelation 12-13, the Dragon and his Two Beasts: persecution, suffering, martyrdom for those who follow Jesus.

Revelation 15-16, the Seven Bowls of Wrath: the earth, the rivers, the seas, the skies, all touched with degradation and devastation, and death, always more death.

Awful, terrible, horrific things. Things almost too monstrous to mention.

War. Poverty. Drought. Famine. Disease. Climate catastrophes. Natural disasters. Religious persecution. Overwhelming death.

It’s only in the White West where we have had the luxury of being able to imagine these horrors as something still future, some future seven-year tribulation. But tell that to the 40 million who died in ancient China’s Three Kingdoms War, or the tens of millions—half Europe’s population—who succumbed to the Black Death in the Middle Ages, or the millions of indigenous persons swept under the first waves of conquering Europeans, or the millions who perished in the Bengal Famine of 1770, or the tens of thousands of Christians killed for their faith each year around the world.

There is no need to imagine all this as some future tribulation. This has been the human experience throughout our history. It was, it is, and it is to come.

This can be hard to accept on its own, but there’s something else that makes all this even more difficult to accept for us as Christians: Revelation, and indeed several passages in the Bible, describe many of these horrific realities as divine judgment.

But does God, in righteous wrath against sin, actually employ violence and destruction and death to exact judgment, to bring about justice? If so, how do we reconcile that with Jesus’ call to nonviolence, to love our enemies, to forgive seventy times seven times? And if not, how do we make sense of this kind of language in Revelation, or even elsewhere in the Bible?

There are several things in Revelation that suggest that all this is more complex than it first seems, and that notions of God seeking “retributive justice” or using “redemptive violence” are missing the point of Revelation’s language of divine judgment.

Yes, God judges human sin—but not by zapping us with lightning bolts of violence, not by doling out destruction with one hand and death with the other.

Lion-Lamb 2Let’s start with the first major vision of Revelation, Revelation 4-5. This vision sets the stage for everything else that follows in Revelation. It sets the tone for how we should imagine Jesus and God. And there God reigns through Jesus, and Jesus is the Lion of Judah—Israel’s Messiah—who reigns as the Lamb who has been slain.

Jesus does not reign as a tyrant, as a bully, as a cruel and violent despot. Jesus reigns as the one who is willing to die rather than kill, who rejects violence and coercion as the path to justice and peace.

This should sit like a burr in our brain, making us uncomfortable with connecting all these horrific things on earth with God’s reign from heaven.

Then look ahead to one of the last major visions of Revelation, the judgment scene in Revelation 20. There we have another clue that things are not as they seem. There, at the end of God’s judgment of all things, we are told that “Death and Hades” are themselves condemned and eradicated. To put this into Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 15, “The last enemy to be destroyed is death.”

God does not deal in death; God is out to destroy it.

In short, both the first major vision of Revelation and one of the last visions highlight one crucial fact: violence and injustice and suffering and death are not the way of God, but they are the very enemies of God which God is seeking to eliminate.

So how do we make sense of all the visions in between that seem to say the opposite?

Think of those Four Horsemen of Revelation 6: domination, war, economic injustice, and death. Although these are portrayed as coming at the call of heaven, they are thoroughly human evils, originating in our own human greed and cruelty and reflecting a pattern seen throughout human history.

The same assessment could be made of all the expressions of “God’s wrath” in Revelation. Not just the killing and wars, but even the famines and diseases and degradations of the earth, the sea, and the skies—these are caused by human action, human harm, human sin. These are not “God directly inflicting punishment,” but rather “God giving people up to the consequences of their sinful actions.”

This is exactly how Paul describes “God’s wrath” in Romans 1. Paul says that “the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and wickedness.” And how is that “wrath of God” revealed? Paul goes on: by God “giving us over” to our sins, to experience the full impact of our own destructive attitudes and actions.

No wonder Revelation repeatedly calls on humans to repent.

Then take a look at the two beasts of Revelation 13. Revelation scholars agree that these beasts do not represent specific human leaders (e.g. Nicolae Carpathia) but rather the Roman empire and its imperial cult. These beasts, in other words, are human structures and systems of power gone wrong.

Our human structures for organizing society—our political structures, our economic systems, our religious structures—these can become inhuman, corrupt and cruel, perpetuating injustice and bringing more death than life. At that point, these “powers that be” become “evil powers.” They become beasts.

These beasts, then, and the diabolical ethos that animates them, are not God’s creation. God does not make them. They are not God’s instruments. God does not use them. They are God’s enemies. In fact, we discover by the end of Revelation that the devil and his beasts, all these evil “powers that be,” face the same fate as “Death and Hades”: they are condemned and eradicated.

Evil is not God’s instrument; it is God’s enemy.

God does not deal in death and destruction. God does not stand behind oppressive governments and unjust economic systems. All these things—all the horrors depicted in Revelation, all the horrors experienced in human history—all these things are the very things God condemns, the very things Jesus came to deliver us from.

This way of understanding Revelation is both comforting and disturbing.

It is comforting to know that God does not use violence and destruction and death at all, even to bring about good. As John 10 says, it is the thief who seeks to steal and kill and destroy, not Jesus—Jesus brings life. If there is anything that brings hurt or harm, damage or devastation or death, that thing is decidedly not-God.

SeraphAnd this means there is more than meets the eye in Revelation. All those depictions of God’s judgment being a sort of violent vengeance, a kind of retribution, cannot mean what we think they mean at first glance. God is out to eliminate human sin, evil powers, even death itself—but not human persons. As Ephesians 6 puts it, “our battle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness.”

Yet in another way, all this is very disturbing. For it means that we are our own worst enemy. Our selfishness, our self-indulgence, our unbridled aggression, our prejudice, our capacity for cruelty, our political oppression, our corporate greed—this is what lies behind so much of the violence and death our world experiences, the degradation and devastation even of the earth itself.

This is the judgment of God. This is God’s assessment of the human predicament.

Hear, then, what the Spirit is saying to us. Hear the call of God for us to repent, to “come out of Babylon and not take part in her sins,” to resist the lure of our world’s “powers that be” gone wrong, to say a firm “No!” to the corruption and injustice and oppression of human structures of power gone bad. Hear the call of Jesus the Lamb to follow him in his cross-shaped footsteps, his footsteps of selfless self-giving for the good of the other, for the good of all, even in the face of death.

In this is the salvation of God. This is the path to the kingdom of God, God’s reign of justice and peace and flourishing life.


Here’s the next post in this series on Revelation: “The (S)Word-Wielder”

The first image is a painting by Viktor Vasnetsov. All other images are from a mandala of Revelation 4-5 created by Margie Hildebrand.

© Michael W. Pahl