The Wrath of God: On Judgment, Compassion, and the Moral Cost of Cruelty

I’ve found myself thinking more and more about the concept of God’s wrath—something that, until recently, I rarely dwelled on. My faith has always been guided by the revolutionary words of Jesus, words rooted in love, compassion, and radical acceptance. That message has always felt true, like a compass pointing toward the life I strive to live. Yet in our current cultural moment, a profound question emerges: True Christianity demands we protect the vulnerable rather than judge them—and those who weaponize faith against marginalized groups may themselves face divine judgment.

The evangelical conception of Christianity—one that often emphasizes hellfire and punishment—has become, in many ways, the dominant public face of the faith. But that version of Christianity never felt true to me. It never felt consistent with my relationship with God. And frankly, it never felt like my place to stand in judgment of anyone else. The hubris it takes for human beings to declare who is worthy of God’s wrath is staggering. It’s not only spiritually arrogant—it’s logically absurd.

I think of my own children—my twins—and how my daughter has a habit of tattling on her brother. It’s not a behavior we encourage because, at its core, it stems from something all humans wrestle with: the impulse to see others punished. I want to teach my children that trust, loyalty, and compassion are far more valuable than the fleeting satisfaction of seeing someone else face consequences. Ironically, when my daughter tattles, she often ends up in trouble herself—because in trying to bring punishment down on someone else, she loses sight of her own behavior.

This personal lesson mirrors a larger spiritual truth. Where in Scripture does God command us to fixate on the sins of others? Jesus’ teachings consistently remind us to examine our own hearts before judging anyone else. As stated in Matthew 7:1-2: “Judge not, that you be not judged. For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you.” And if our judgment leads to cruelty, ostracization, or violence—if it puts another human being’s life or dignity at risk—then we have undeniably strayed from God’s path.

Selective Empathy: A Spiritual Crisis

Many who claim to follow Christ today demonstrate a troubling pattern of selective empathy—a compassion that extends only to those who look like them or share their lifestyle. This isn’t just morally problematic; it’s spiritually dangerous. When we remain silent about policies that harm immigrants, Black people, transgender individuals, or women, but suddenly discover our conscience when our own healthcare or livelihoods are threatened, we reveal a profound misunderstanding of Christ’s message.

Isaiah 1:17 commands us to “Learn to do good; seek justice, correct oppression; bring justice to the fatherless, plead the widow’s cause.” This isn’t an optional aspect of faith—it’s fundamental to walking in God’s ways. Similarly, Micah 6:8 asks, “He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?”

This brings me to the current political obsession with transgender people, particularly among conservative Christians. I don’t know how God feels about transgender identity. And honestly, I don’t believe it’s my concern. The Bible is clear: “Vengeance is mine; I will repay, says the Lord.” (Romans 12:19) My job is not to police anyone else’s identity—it’s to strive every day to be the best, most compassionate person I can be. And truthfully, that’s a full-time job on its own.

But here’s what I do know, with a bone-deep certainty: The way society is treating transgender people right now—the effort to erase them from public life, the legislative attacks, the dehumanization—is dangerous. When—not if—this behavior leads to suffering and death, that blood will be on the hands of those who perpetuated it. And given that one of the most fundamental tenets of Christianity is to protect the most vulnerable among us, I can’t help but believe that this cruelty is the kind of sin that leads straight to hell—no detours through purgatory required.

The Arrogance of Assumed Immunity

Scripture warns repeatedly against arrogance and hardened hearts. The hubris of believing that cruelty won’t eventually circle back to you—that you can cheer for walls, bans, and rollbacks of civil rights without ever facing consequences—is precisely the kind of pride that precedes a fall. Proverbs 16:18 doesn’t mince words: “Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.”

Watching what’s happening in this country feels like witnessing a slow-motion horror story, one we somehow convinced ourselves would have a happy ending. We handed the most powerful job in the world to a man who had proven, over and over again, that he was cruel, dishonest, and untrustworthy. And yet, so many people believed that his cruelty would be reserved for other people, that his dishonesty wouldn’t come back to bite them. The sheer arrogance of that belief is breathtaking. And now, many are realizing too late that they invited destruction into their homes.

But my greatest fear isn’t what any human leader might do. Human cruelty, as terrible as it is, has limits. What frightens me is the possibility that this collective cruelty—this moral rot at the heart of our culture—has invited the wrath of God. And unlike human vengeance, divine justice is neither finite nor predictable. It is infinite. It is unrelenting. And it cannot be escaped.

And let me be clear: It is not transgender people or immigrants or any other marginalized group who have invited this wrath. It is those who prioritize personal comfort over widespread suffering. Those who view immigrants—often displaced by the waste, excess, and exploitation that our lifestyles have created—as burdens rather than fellow human beings deserving dignity. Those who resent anyone unlike themselves achieving even a fraction of success or opportunity.

And most of all, those who uphold white supremacy—because I cannot imagine a more insulting statement to God than declaring that other peoples of this world, made in God’s image and loved as His children, are somehow less worthy of human dignity. As stated in 1 John 4:20: “If anyone says, ‘I love God,’ and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen.”

James 1:27 offers a stark reminder of true religion: “Religion that is pure and undefiled before God the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world.” How many who claim to defend Christianity today are fulfilling this definition?

Reclaiming Authentic Faith

So, what’s the explanation for this behavior? I see three possibilities:

1. You don’t actually believe in God. You’re using Christ as a shield to justify cruelty, and you’d better hope you’re right—because if you’re wrong, I think it’s safe to say things won’t end well for you. I doubt Jesus appreciates His name being used as a tool for suffering and destruction.

2. You’ve never read the New Testament. Maybe you missed the part where Jesus commands us to love one another as He loved us. Maybe you skipped the story of the Good Samaritan. Maybe the Sermon on the Mount just didn’t make it onto your reading list.

3. You believe you have the authority to question God’s decisions. This one might be the most dangerous of all. If you’ve convinced yourself that you have the right to decide which of God’s children are worthy of love and which deserve punishment… well, like the first option, you’d better hope you’re right. Because that level of arrogance rarely ends well.

All of this is to say: Let’s stop degrading God any further by calling these people Christian nationalists. By definition, that phrase is meaningless. I don’t recall Christ ever changing His mind and saying, “Actually, hate thy neighbor. Build walls. Hurt the weak. Steal from the vulnerable.”

So here’s the call to action: It’s time to reclaim the word Christian through both word and deed. People can call themselves whatever they want, but if their behavior bears no resemblance to the teachings of Christ—if their actions aren’t even in the same neighborhood as love, compassion, and justice—then we don’t have to repeat their lies. Call them what they are: white supremacists, racists, nationalists. But don’t further degrade Christ’s name by tacking on the word Christian.

A Path Forward

While divine judgment may await those who perpetuate cruelty in God’s name, there remains hope for redemption. The story of Christianity is fundamentally one of transformation. Even Saul, who persecuted early Christians, became Paul, one of the faith’s greatest advocates.

If you find yourself uncomfortable with this message, perhaps that discomfort is the first step toward change. Ask yourself: Does my faith lead me to protect the vulnerable? Does it compel me to stand against injustice? Does it make me more compassionate, more generous, more loving? If not, is it truly faith at all?

The path forward begins with humility—acknowledging where we’ve prioritized judgment over mercy, comfort over justice, tribalism over universal love. It continues with concrete action: speaking out against policies that harm the vulnerable, using whatever privilege we possess to amplify marginalized voices, and voting for leaders who demonstrate authentic compassion rather than performative religiosity.

As Revelation 22:12 reminds us: “Behold, I am coming soon, bringing my recompense with me, to repay each one for what he has done.”

Let us ensure that when that day comes, we’re found on the side of love, justice, and mercy—the values that truly reflect the heart of Christ.