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Let us for a moment assume what
we cannot for a moment assume - the absurd
notion of the Wrath of God.
The notion that God, sustainer of the Universe in Whom
we live and move and have our being,
experiences that
degrading and debilitating physical
- indeed carnal - demonic possession
we call 'wrath', then surely
the world would be torn apart -
there would be immense
wars and famine, and the arrogant
rich would be damning themselves,
seizing the land and the small
resources of the poor -
Babylon would flourish. Its fortresses
would be planted through the world
and we would endure
a culture of screaming voices.
If we assume for a moment what
we cannot for a moment assume, death
would be our inevitable fate,
cancerous tumours and heart attacks,
our lives would be inchoate.
Any good image we see would be
crossed rapidly by
erotic fantasies,
for surely if God was angry there would be
no end to His ingenuity.
Yet if we still do not admit
God's Wrath, we must admit
something present in the Universe
that resembles it.
A sweet disorder in the dress
that kindles a raging, a
destructive wantonness -
Our God is a destroying fire,
and a destroying fire there is.
If God is not angry, yet
the Wrath of God is real -
space and time, burning in the calm
ocean of Eternity.