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The God of the Old Testament – Part 13: How Does God Feel When He Judges?

By Mark L. Carlton

I think it is important that we pause in our survey of the judgments of the Old Testament to focus on a subject I brought up in my previous message, God’s feelings about His own acts of Judgment.  I say this because it has been my observation that in all of the discussions of the God of the Old Testament I have been privy to, the way God feels about His own acts of judgment has never been addressed.     

The very idea that God has emotions is a new thought to many people.  Yet when we look at the God of the Bible we are confronted by a Deity who feels the same sorts of emotions we feel.  This should not surprise us when we stop to think about it.  After all, the Bible says we are made in God’s image and likeness.  So why should we be surprised to discover that He has emotions? 

We might have inferred that God experiences emotions such as joy from the pleasure He took in His creation, when He saw that it was, “very good.[i]“  We might have inferred such emotions as love and compassion from His gracious treatment of Adam, Eve and Cain after their sin.  But beginning with the flood, the Bible begins to specify God’s emotional reactions.   Specifically, we are told that when God saw the wickedness of the antediluvian world He felt both sorrow and grief.[ii]  

Even more remarkable than the fact that God feels emotions is the Bible’s repeated insistence that our actions can cause Him to feel such things as joy or sadness.   Thus the Bible teaches that we human beings are important to God and therefore significant.  Why else would the Creator and Sustainer of the universe take notice, let alone allow Himself to be hurt by the likes of us?  

The importance of understanding that God suffers, and that we can inflict suffering upon Him, is enormous.    In fact, it is a foundation stone of Christianity.  John Polkinghorne explains it this way: “The Christian God is the crucified God, the one who is not just a compassionate spectator of the suffering of creation but a fellow-sharer in the travail of creation.[iii]“ 

To illustrate his point, Polkinghorne refers to something quantum theorists refer to as, “the EPR effect.”  He explains: “The counter-intuitive togetherness-in-separation that implies that two quantum entities that have interacted with each other remain mutually entangled, however they may subsequently separate in space.  Effectively, they remain a single system, for acting on one ‘here’ will produce an immediate effect on its distant partner.[iv]“

As we study the scriptures it does seem that there is some sort of EPR effect between God and his creation, and that the suffering of the broken creation somehow deeply impacts its Creator even though our sin has separated us from the One we once interacted with.   This seems to be especially true of the suffering of the believer.  In fact, the New Testament refers to the suffering of the believer as a continuation of the suffering of Christ Himself.[v] 

Earlier generations of Christians understood this.  For example, consider the world of the old hymn, Does Jesus Care?

                Does Jesus care when my heart is pained

                Too deeply for mirth and song;

                As the burdens press and the cares distress,

                And the way grows weary and long?

                O yes, He cares; I know He cares,

                His heart is touched with my grief;

                When the days are weary, the long nights dreary,

                I know my Savior cares

Perhaps part of the weakness of the modern evangelical church is that it has stopped singing songs of substance that passed down and impressed upon the heart the important truths of the word of God; such truths as this one, that God is touched with our grief.   As a result the average Christian really doesn’t know enough about the God he repetitiously praises in his modern worship songs to be able to answer the questions serious seekers are asking about Him.   

In addressing the world’s questions about the God of the Old Testament it is important that we understand such simple concepts as the idea that the brokenness of this world hurts God, and that even His acts of judgment are not painless exercises in chaotic destruction, but a painful work that God’s own Holiness requires of Him.  

I would encourage those who question the judgments of the God of the Old Testament to read it again, this time ignoring the judgments themselves so that you can focus on the emotions of God.   If you do this you might be surprised to discover that the God of the Old Testament is not the ogre those who hate Him often accuse Him of being.

Sometimes when I hear the new atheists’ attacks on God, I wonder if they are confusing him with some other god.  The arbitrary cruelness they attribute to Him seems to be more in keeping with the gods of other ancient people than the God of the Bible. 

For example, in my last message I referenced the fact that one of the ancient flood myths says that god sent the flood because the human race was too noisy.  In other words, He arbitrarily and cruelly destroyed the people of the earth, not for their sin and wickedness, but because they were getting on his nerves.   The rantings of Richard Dawkins and his parrots would be a fitting rebuke of such an arbitrary deity, but they seem to me to completely miss the mark when talking about the longsuffering God of the Old Testament Who is on record as saying that He takes no pleasure in the death of the wicked. 

So how did God feel about the flood he sent upon the world?  He apparently did not feel that good about it, since He swore afterwards that He would never again curse the world or destroy every living things the way he did it in Noah’s time (with a flood) again.[vi]

But a skeptic might protest, “What about that enormous loss of life?”  Let me offer this very simple response, and it would apply to the other divine judgments we will discuss as well; Since we did not create all of those individuals, it is hard for me to imagine that we could possibly love and care more about them than the longsuffering God Who did.   What I am suggesting is that none would feel the pain of the destruction of creation more than its Creator.  I know this because I am an artist.

 A couple of years ago our local visitor’s committee here in Ogallala embarked upon an ambitious project of purchasing a number of bronze sculptures for our city.  Their first was a horse and rider which was placed on our historic Boot Hill.  If you ever get to Ogallala you really ought to check it out, it is quite impressive.  But there was some controversy that local artists were not given an opportunity to compete for the commission.  The committee’s position was that a work by a “famous” artist would draw tourists.  But they assured us that local artists would have an opportunity to compete for the next statue.

We have a restored a 1920s gas station on our main street in Ogallala.  This year the visitor’s committee announced that they were going to commission the creation of a life sized sculpture of a gas station attendant to place in front of “The Spruce Street Station.”  True to their word, they accepted proposals from both professional and local artists.   From twelve applicants, I was selected as one of the three finalists.  I was the only amateur to make the cut.  Each of the finalists were then given about six weeks to complete a 12″ clay mockette.  

 I was told by a number of our local cynics that I was just chosen so that they could say that a local artist was allowed to compete and that they already knew who they were going to choose.  Another told me that because the driving force on the committee had a personal dislike for me I didn’t have a chance.   I suspected they were right, but I determined to do my best anyway and make the choice difficult for them. 

For the next six weeks I worked hard and produced the best piece I have ever created.  When I took it into the Chamber of Commerce office and compared it to the only other piece that had been submitted at the time, I realized I had accomplished my goal.  My piece was far- and-away the better of the two. 

Several days later, a friend of mine, who is on the visitor’s committee, stopped by my table at the coffee shop and told me that he thought my piece was the most detailed and the best of the three, and that I had a good chance of winning the commission. 

At this point I made the mistake of getting my hopes up.  It was a mistake, because a few days later I received a call from the owner of the foundry telling me they had selected one of the other pieces.   To say I was disappointed would be an understatement.  I was crushed.  My heart was broken because I will believe till my dying day that mine was the better piece and that considerations other than the quality of the work made the decision. 

 So, what is an artist with a 12″ clay mockette — that he cannot afford to cast and that he wouldn’t have a buyer for anyway — to do?  After all, unless one has a restored 1920s filling station, there is not much demand for a 1920s filling station attendant.   Also, what does an artist do with his deep hurt and the  sense that he has been the victim of an injustice? 

My very immature answer was to roll my mockette into a tangled ball of wire, paper, tape, foil and clay, and toss it in a dumpster.   It was probably not the right thing to do, I have regretted doing it.  But I did it, and having done it I can tell you how a creator feels after destroying a valued creation. 

 I can tell you that it gave me no pleasure in doing it.   In fact, it was one of the most painful things I have ever done.  It was like rolling up my heart and throwing it away.  I hate to admit it, but I cried for about a half an hour afterwards, and It makes me sad to think or write about it to this very day.   In fact, as it stands today, I am planning on giving all of my existing sculptures to my children and I do not ever intend to sculpt again[vii].    

 So, how does a creator feel when he destroys a beloved creation?   I assure you, it is not a good feeling.  So let me suggest that rather than visualizing God as a vengeful, sadistic tyrant, we view Him as grieving over a creation that must be judged by a just yet longsuffering God, who feels more pain in judging than we can ever comprehend.

[ii] Genesis 6:5-6

[iii] John Polkinghorn/ Quantum Physics and Theology: An Unexpected Kinship  p. 21

[iv] Ibid

[v] Acts 22:7-8; Colossian 1:24

[vi] Genesis 8:21; 9:11

[vii] Subject to change if offered the chance to compete for another commission