The Prophets, the Apostles, and the
Lord himself warn us of the wrath of God.
But what does this wrath mean?
Can God become angry? In his commentary on Psalm 6, St. Gregory the
Great says:
“ ‘Lord, do not rebuke me in your anger,
nor chastise me in our wrath.’ See how
good a beginning it is, how full of affection, how full of grace! In it, he calls him ‘Lord’, showing him that
he ought to have mercy for the sake of his own law. It is proper for lords to maintain their
slaves, not to despise them; to correct those who fail, not to kill them; to
seek for those who run away, not to reject them. ‘Lord, do not rebuke me in your anger.’ When someone incurs the anger of his lord and
he wishes to be reconciled to him, it is customary for him to seek out patrons,
to employ intermediaries, to hire advocates.
But this soul, stricken with terror at his terrible judgment, and
inflamed with the love of God, suffers no delays, refuses any deferrals. The soul cannot escape condemnation if it puts
off coming together with God at the assigned hour. But he does not restrain his desire; he does
not keep his patience. Trusting in the
mercy of his Creator, he gathers witnesses and presumes to speak, as though
seeing him already present: Indeed, I know that I am shut off from your sight
because of my deeds; still, I am smaller than all your mercies. ‘Lord, do not rebuke me in your anger,’ for I
have not denied that I am your servant; I desire to obey your commands; I never
refuse to bear your sweet yoke. Rather,
convict me here. Correct me while there
is still time for mercy. Train me while
it is the day of salvation. It is kindly correction for a man to be worn away
by lashes in this life, for he is repaired with these rebukes. In this terrible trial, every wicked man is
rebuked in anger: no mercy at all is joined to his endless punishment. Far be it from us to believe that anger is
present in God. He would not be
changeless if the necessity of some passion were able to move him. It is otherwise with God, but in the human
manner of speaking, we call the sentence of infinite damnation his ‘anger’. Not that God may be moved in the severity of
justice by any disturbance, but that those who are to be crushed, in two
senses, by contrition, are irremediably punished. ‘Do not rebuke me in your anger.’ His anger is neither human nor passing. Human anger passes quickly in such a way that
it extends the force of its power against bodies. On the other hand, not only does the force of
divine wrath multiply punishments for body and soul, but it continues
ceaselessly against the damned. ‘Nor
chastise me in your wrath.’ Just as
wrath is greater than anger, so to chastise is greater than to merely
rebuke. We rebuke those whom we love in
order to correct them. And because after
the death of the flesh some are assigned to eternal punishments, and others
pass through the fire of purgation, the faithful soul should fear not only his
anger, but shudder at his wrath. As the
blessed Augustine says, ‘All those who do not set Christ as a foundation for
themselves are chastised in wrath and suffer eternal fire.’ But those who build over this foundation with
wood, straw, or hay, are rebuked in his anger.
These are purged by fire and led into the rest of beatitude (cf. 1
Corinthians 3, 12-15).”
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