Understanding God's Wrath and Love Through the Seven Bow

An Angry God of Love?: The Seven Bowls of Revelation 15-16

Revelation 15–16 describes the seven bowls of God's wrath, symbolizing the ultimate judgment and the full consequences of humanity's persistent rebellion against Him. These judgments reflect God's role as a loving and just Father, who allows free will and uses discipline to call people to repentance. God's wrath is not arbitrary or vindictive but reveals the destructive nature of sin and His desire to restore humanity to righteousness. Despite centuries of warning and patience, the time will come when sin's consequences are fully unleashed, and opportunities for repentance will cease. This passage underscores the urgency of turning to God, submitting to His authority, and embracing the salvation offered through Jesus Christ before the final judgment ushers in His eternal kingdom. It highlights the inseparable connection between God’s love and justice, as both are necessary for the fulfillment of His redemptive plan.

Sermon Transcript

Then I saw another great and awe-inspiring sign in heaven: seven angels with the seven last plagues; for with them God’s wrath will be completed. I also saw something like a sea of glass mixed with fire, and those who had won the victory over the beast, its image, and the number of its name, were standing on the sea of glass with harps from God. They sang the song of God’s servant Moses and the song of the Lamb:

Great and awe-inspiring are your works,

Lord God, the Almighty;

just and true are your ways,

King of the nations.

Lord, who will not fear

and glorify your name?

For you alone are holy.

All the nations will come

and worship before you

because your righteous acts

have been revealed.

After this I looked, and the heavenly temple—the tabernacle of testimony—was opened. Out of the temple came the seven angels with the seven plagues, dressed in pure, bright linen, with golden sashes wrapped around their chests. One of the four living creatures gave the seven angels seven golden bowls filled with the wrath of God who lives forever and ever. Then the temple was filled with smoke from the glory of God and from his power, and no one could enter the temple until the seven plagues of the seven angels were completed.

Then I heard a loud voice from the temple saying to the seven angels, “Go and pour out the seven bowls of God’s wrath on the earth.” The first went and poured out his bowl on the earth, and severely painful sores broke out on the people who had the mark of the beast and who worshiped its image.

The second poured out his bowl into the sea. It turned to blood like that of a dead person, and all life in the sea died.

The third poured out his bowl into the rivers and the springs of water, and they became blood. I heard the angel of the waters say,

You are just,

the Holy One, who is and who was,

because you have passed judgment on these things.

Because they poured out

the blood of the saints and the prophets,

you have given them blood to drink;

they deserve it!

I heard the altar say,

Yes, Lord God, the Almighty,

true and just are your judgments.

The fourth poured out his bowl on the sun. It was allowed to scorch people with fire, and people were scorched by the intense heat. So they blasphemed the name of God, who has the power over these plagues, and they did not repent and give him glory.

The fifth poured out his bowl on the throne of the beast, and its kingdom was plunged into darkness. People gnawed their tongues because of their pain and blasphemed the God of heaven because of their pains and their sores, but they did not repent of their works.

The sixth poured out his bowl on the great river Euphrates, and its water was dried up to prepare the way for the kings from the east. Then I saw three unclean spirits like frogs coming from the dragon’s mouth, from the beast’s mouth, and from the mouth of the false prophet. For they are demonic spirits performing signs, who travel to the kings of the whole world to assemble them for the battle on the great day of God, the Almighty. “Look, I am coming like a thief. Blessed is the one who is alert and remains clothed so that he may not go around naked and people see his shame.” So they assembled the kings at the place called in Hebrew, Armageddon.

Then the seventh poured out his bowl into the air, and a loud voice came out of the temple from the throne, saying, “It is done!” There were flashes of lightning, rumblings, and peals of thunder. And a severe earthquake occurred like no other since people have been on the earth, so great was the quake. The great city split into three parts, and the cities of the nations fell. Babylon the Great was remembered in God’s presence; he gave her the cup filled with the wine of his fierce anger. Every island fled, and the mountains disappeared. Enormous hailstones, each weighing about a hundred pounds, fell from the sky on people, and they blasphemed God for the plague of hail because that plague was extremely severe.

(Revelation 15–16, CSB)

Hey everyone, we’re back in Revelation today, focusing on chapters 15 and 16—the seven bowls of wrath. I’ve titled this message "Angry God of Love" because we need to wrestle with an important question: If God is righteous and holy, angry at injustice and immorality in the world, how can He also be a God who loves all people, who created humanity out of love, and does all things for our good? How can these attributes coexist?

To address this, I want us to think about fathers. I’ve been reflecting on different kinds of dads I’ve observed—at Scout meetings with my son, school events, church gatherings, and just in everyday life. It’s fascinating how different they can be, with unique priorities and parenting approaches. These differences made me think about three general types of dads I’ve encountered.

The first is the helicopter dad. You probably know the type—these dads hover over their kids, constantly trying to shield them from trouble. That’s where the term "helicopter" comes from—they’re always hovering. These are the dads who put safety plugs in every outlet and bubble-wrap every situation. When their kids start to walk, they’re right there, never letting them fall or explore independently. As the kids grow, this behavior doesn’t stop. The helicopter dad insists on knowing every detail of what their kids are doing—what’s the plan, how are you doing it, is it safe? They micromanage out of a desire to protect, but in doing so, they prevent their kids from learning and growing through experience.

I know someone like this—a history teacher involved in Scouts. His son is mild-mannered, meek, and never really gets to explore life for himself because his dad is always stepping in, directing him, and ensuring everything is done "safely." While the motivation is love, this constant hovering can stifle growth.

On the opposite end of the spectrum is the withdrawn dad. This dad is hands-off, allowing his kids to do whatever they want, often out of complacency or a belief that kids need to figure life out on their own. "That’s how I did it, so that’s how my kids will do it," they might say. This mindset assumes the child is already fully formed, that no further guidance or input is necessary. Withdrawn dads often miss opportunities to shape and support their children, leaving them to navigate life’s challenges alone.

And so, for these withdrawn dads, it’s up to their kids to figure out and navigate life on their own. These dads often take no responsibility and see no need to intervene beyond letting the natural consequences of the world play out. Withdrawn dads allow their children to do whatever they want without much guidance.

I’ve encountered this type of dad as a teacher, especially in high schools. You call them because their child is struggling in class, and their response is often, “What do you want me to do about it?” It’s a detached attitude, almost as if raising and teaching their kids is someone else’s responsibility. These dads don’t want to get involved any more than absolutely necessary, leaving their children to face life’s challenges on their own.

In the church, we encounter these types of dads as well. But there’s another kind of dad I want to focus on—the prophet dad. The prophet dad is different. The word "prophet" here refers to someone who teaches and warns about danger. This type of dad isn’t hands-off like the withdrawn dad, nor is he overly controlling like the helicopter dad. Instead, the prophet dad is intentional about preparing his children for the challenges they’ll face.

The prophet dad warns his kids: “If you go down that path, there will be consequences.” He teaches them about life’s dangers so that when they encounter challenges, they’re ready to face them. He says, “Here’s what you might experience, and here’s how to handle it.” He equips his children to succeed, even in the face of adversity.

I think of a close friend of mine who was my neighbor for years. His daughters were teenagers at the time, and I had the privilege of watching him interact with them in some really meaningful ways. He was a great example of a prophet dad. He genuinely wanted to protect his daughters from harm but also prepared them to face the world. He taught them, warned them, and gave them the tools they needed to navigate life’s difficulties.

Once he felt confident they were equipped, he gave them the freedom to explore and make their own decisions. If they made mistakes or ignored his advice, there were consequences, but he always maintained a loving relationship that allowed them to learn and grow. Even now, with his daughters grown, he still embodies the qualities of a prophet dad. He’s not hovering over them, micromanaging every aspect of their lives, but he’s present, teaching, warning, and guiding when necessary.

So, when I think about the three kinds of dads—the helicopter dad, who hovers and tries to shield his kids from all harm; the withdrawn dad, who steps back and lets the chips fall where they may; and the prophet dad, who equips, warns, and then allows his kids to learn and grow—I think about how these examples help us understand God as Father.

As we turn to today’s text, I want us to consider this: What kind of Father is God when His wrath is poured out? Is He like the helicopter dad, constantly intervening to keep His children from harm? Is He like the withdrawn dad, who lets the consequences of people’s choices play out without involvement? Or is He like the prophet dad, teaching, warning, and preparing His children to face the realities of the world while allowing them the freedom to make choices—and face the consequences of those choices?

That’s the first question I want to answer today: Is God a helicopter dad? Is that the kind of Father we have in heaven?

I think the answer to whether God is a helicopter dad is plainly no. The Bible teaches that God has given human beings free will. Now, we can certainly debate philosophically how "free" that will is. For example, we’re not free to flap our arms and fly like birds because that’s not how we were created—we don’t have wings. So, our free will isn’t limitless. We’re free within the boundaries of the world God created, and within those boundaries, we make decisions daily. It feels real to us, and I believe Scripture affirms that our choices are indeed real. The fact that God holds us responsible for our decisions emphasizes the reality of our free will.

God, as a Father, deeply cares for us. But He isn’t a helicopter dad who hovers, denying His children their own will, pursuits, or creativity. We were created in His image, and that includes the ability to create. Humanity has done incredible things with that creativity, producing works of art, technology, and advancements that reflect God’s image in us. However, as the Apostle Paul points out in Romans 1, we’ve also become "inventors of evil." We use our creativity to create destruction, sin, and immorality. God has given us the freedom to choose—whether to use our creativity for good or for evil.

This free will also means that decisions have consequences. God doesn’t force us to always make the right choices, as though He were a puppeteer. He allows us to make our own decisions, but with that comes the natural consequences of our actions. For example, if someone steals something from a store, they may get caught and face legal consequences. If someone experiments with drugs, it may not catch up with them right away, but over time, there will be consequences.

Sin, in many ways, can be understood as behaviors or decisions that naturally lead to negative consequences. God’s commandments and moral standards aren’t arbitrary—they’re given to protect us from these consequences. His laws are good for us. They train us to live righteously and to thrive in the life He’s given us.

Think about Israel in the Old Testament. There was a time when they made a bad alliance with the nation of Assyria. When the deal went south, they ended up under Assyrian control. Later, they were taken into exile by Assyria and eventually Babylon. God had warned them not to make that alliance. He had taught them what was right, but when they ignored His warnings, He didn’t intervene to stop the consequences. Instead, He let their choices play out naturally. The exile was a direct result of their decisions. It’s a practical example of how God doesn’t act as a helicopter dad. He gave them the freedom to choose, warned them of the dangers, and then allowed the consequences to unfold.

So, God is not a helicopter dad. He gives us the ability to exercise our free will and learn from the results of our choices. This leads to the next question: If God isn’t a helicopter dad, is He a withdrawn dad? Has He simply placed us on earth and stepped back, saying, “Here you go—figure it out on your own”?

Is God like the withdrawn dad who puts His feet up, checks out, and says, “I’ve done my part”? This is a deeply philosophical question that has been debated throughout history, particularly in the context of what we call deistic religion. Deism is often associated with the clockmaker theory, which is the idea that God created the world, set it in motion, and then stepped back, leaving it to run on its own.

To put it simply, the withdrawn dad is like a father who contributes DNA to the birth of a child but then says, “Well, I did my part,” and disappears, not being involved in raising that child. Is that what God is like? Is He the kind of Father who creates humanity and then leaves us to figure everything out on our own?

I don’t think so. A father who checks out and refuses to engage in his children’s lives doesn’t truly love them. Love requires active involvement. And Scripture teaches us that God does indeed love the world. John 3:16 says, "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life." Notice the first part: God loved the world. How did He love the world? By giving His Son. God’s love isn’t passive or distant—it’s active and sacrificial.

Even before creation, God knew humanity would sin, that we would mess up. And yet He loved us. I can’t imagine a loving parent saying, “I wish I never had this child—they’re too much trouble.” Maybe there are some parents out there who think that way, but I’ve never heard it. Similarly, God doesn’t regret creating us. His love is steadfast, even when we fail.

God is not a withdrawn Father. He is active in the world. He sent His Son into the world to redeem us. He continues to work in our lives. In John 14:16, Jesus says, "I will ask the Father, and He will give you another Counselor to be with you forever"—referring to the Holy Spirit. God remains present and active through His Spirit, guiding, comforting, and equipping His people.

So, no, God is not the withdrawn dad. That brings us to the final question: Is God the prophetic dad? The answer to that is yes. God is the prophetic Father who teaches, warns, and equips His children. He has given us the Scriptures—the living and active Word of God—so that we can know Him, follow Him, and be prepared for the challenges of life.

God has also given us His Spirit to lead and guide us, providing help and counsel in times of need. He has given us His church as well. Some people argue, "I can be a Christian without going to church. I don’t need to attend church to follow God." But God gave us His church for a reason—because He is a prophetic Father. The church exists to speak truth into our lives, to warn us when we are heading in the wrong direction, and to be an agent of love, mercy, and grace when we fall short. That’s the purpose of the church: to always point people back toward reconciliation with God in every way they fall short.

The church is meant to come alongside someone and say, “You’ve messed up again, but let’s talk about it, let’s pray about it, and let’s figure out how to change and get right with God.” It’s a place of accountability and restoration. As a pastor, I often find myself walking with people through the same issues, over and over again. But I can’t give up on someone who is striving toward repentance. Why? Because God doesn’t give up on me, and He doesn’t give up on us. As an elder and pastor in His church, I am called to reflect that same grace and persistence.

This pattern of repentance and restoration is evident throughout the Old Testament. Take the book of Judges, for example. The Israelites would turn away from God, start worshiping false gods, and engage in immoral behavior. The natural consequence was that they weakened themselves, and other nations would take advantage of them—oppressing or enslaving them. In their suffering, they would cry out to God through the judges, asking Him to rescue them. And He would. They would repent, return to righteousness, and experience a season of faithfulness. But the next generation would forget God, and the cycle would repeat.

This pattern continued through Israel’s history—ultimately leading to the exile. Even then, God didn’t abandon His people. After 70 years in Babylon, He brought them back to the land. They rebuilt the temple and Jerusalem, but soon they got distracted again, coming under Roman oppression. This pattern of rebellion, consequence, repentance, and restoration repeats until we reach the New Testament.

In the New Testament, we see the establishment of the New Covenant, as prophesied by Jeremiah. This covenant extends to all people—every tribe, tongue, and nation—inviting everyone to become part of God’s people and inherit His promises. It shifts the focus from the law to the Spirit because God refuses to give up on His children. He’s the prophetic Father who doesn’t abandon His people, even when they fail. Instead, He establishes a new covenant, a new way to relate to Him through His Spirit.

And that brings us back to Revelation. You might be thinking, “Wait a minute, Anthony, aren’t we talking about Revelation?” Yes, we are. Revelation, especially the section on the seven bowls of wrath, is very much about understanding what kind of Father God is. Is God just an angry, vengeful judge? Or is He a loving, forgiving God full of mercy?

If we compartmentalize Scripture, we might be tempted to see two different Gods—one of wrath and one of love. But the truth is, God is both. He is a God who loves deeply, but He also gets righteously angry over sin, injustice, and rebellion.

In this passage, we see the seven bowls of wrath, representing God’s anger being poured out on humanity. These events point to the end of time, something we haven’t yet entered into. But here’s the key: God has been warning humanity for generations. He warned through Israel in the Old Testament, through the Scriptures of the New Testament, through His church, through preachers, prophets, and even through His Spirit. The message of Jesus—of repentance and salvation—has been proclaimed to all nations, all ethnicities, all people across the earth.

God is actively warning us to turn to Him and teaching us how to live according to the principles of Jesus in the time we’ve been given. This teaching emphasizes that while we are called to righteousness and repentance, we are also called to love one another, extending grace and mercy. It’s always truth paired with grace—modeled perfectly by Jesus Himself. He taught this balance, and as the church, we are inheritors of His mission to continue teaching it to the world.

Despite God’s warnings and teachings, by the time we reach the events described with the seven bowls in Revelation, humanity as a whole has not followed Him. The world continues to reject God, ignore His teachings, and dismiss His warnings, choosing instead to persist in patterns of unrighteousness. Rather than bowing at the feet of Jesus, people bow before other gods—whether literally or figuratively—and the consequences are both logical and inevitable.

The consequence of sin is destruction. This was made clear when sin first entered the world in the Garden of Eden. Even so, God has shown incredible patience. He has held back the full consequences of sin from completely overwhelming humanity. Though death entered the world, God has restrained its effects. Thousands of years after the events in Eden, humanity continues to exist because of God’s mercy.

We know sin destroys. If you’ve experienced the pain of a broken family—whether due to adultery, abuse, or other destructive actions—you’ve seen firsthand how sin tears things apart. Broken families leave wounds, often depriving people of the support and stability they need to thrive. Many still carry the scars of those experiences.

On a personal level, sin is never satisfying. It leaves us empty, always craving more, and drives us to greater expressions of itself. This pursuit leads to increasing destruction. Think of addictions like drugs or alcohol. They start small but grow as their grip tightens, ultimately leaving the individual in ruin. Sin’s very nature is to destroy.

But throughout history, God’s mercy has been evident. He has continued to hold things together. Every natural disaster, every instance of destruction, every disease—they are all consequences of sin’s corruption of the world. Yet God restrains their full force. We haven’t experienced the total destruction described in Revelation 15 and 16. Why not? Because God, in His mercy, has been holding it back.

For example, consider nuclear warfare. While humanity has used devastating weapons, we haven’t yet obliterated the planet. Diseases, too, while destructive, seem to come under control or run their course. From a limited human perspective, it’s difficult to understand why. But the reason is clear: God is staying His hand. He holds back the pestilence and destruction that sin would otherwise unleash. His mercy prevents these things from completely overtaking the world.

When we come to Revelation 15 and 16, we see the angels pouring out the bowls of God’s wrath. These bowls symbolize God loosening His restraint on the world. It’s a picture of Him relinquishing control and allowing sin to finally run its full course. The bowls of wrath are not so much about God enacting destruction as they are about God allowing the natural consequences of sin to manifest fully.

Sin brings destruction. God’s mercy has delayed it for ages, but these symbolic bowls represent the moment when God allows sin to do what it was always going to do—destroy. This is the devastating reality we see in the text.

All the plagues, natural disasters, earthquakes, and wars we read about in Revelation—events that bring a final and definite end to the earth—are part of God withdrawing His hand and allowing sin to run its course. This leads us to an important question: Is God an angry God? Is this simply God losing His patience and stomping His foot to destroy everything? Is He like the primitive deities of tribal religions, angry gods who must be appeased with sacrifices and rituals? Is God no different from those?

I don’t believe that’s who God is, and there are several reasons why. First, the events described in Revelation are consequences—not arbitrary actions by God, but the natural outcomes of sin. God has given humanity free will, and as we’ve used that free will to reject His teachings and warnings, the world has suffered. The sin that humanity has persisted in—continued and embraced—has led to worldwide consequences. What we see unfolding is the logical result of human rebellion against God.

It’s important to understand that these consequences are not enacted directly by God. They are the inevitable outcomes of sin that we, as a human race, have perpetuated. For instance, while efforts to fix ecological issues are valuable and reflect good stewardship, they cannot ultimately reverse the destruction caused by sin. Addressing climate change, resource depletion, or disease can mitigate some symptoms, but it cannot fix the deeper issue: the brokenness of humanity. The earth itself will pass away because the root of the problem—sin in the human heart—cannot be resolved apart from God.

Hebrews reminds us to "endure suffering as discipline; God is dealing with you as sons. For what son is there that a father does not discipline?" (Hebrews 12:7). This perspective on suffering helps us understand God’s role as a Father. When we face the consequences of sin, it’s as if God is saying, "Didn’t I warn you this would hurt? Didn’t I teach you the right way to live?" Yet, like a good father, God doesn’t leave us in our suffering. He beckons us to move forward: "Let’s get up, let’s endure, and let’s grow from this." This is the essence of enduring suffering as discipline—it’s not punishment for punishment’s sake, but an opportunity for growth, strength, and wisdom.

This reflects the heart of a prophetic Father. God allows free will, He teaches and warns, and when we face consequences, He says, "You made a mistake, but you can do better. Let’s move forward." He doesn’t abandon us. Instead, He uses even the consequences of sin as tools for sanctification—the process of making us holy and Christlike.

We see this in the Scriptures, particularly in Romans 1, where Paul speaks of God "giving people over" to their sinful desires. When people worship false gods or pursue unrighteous passions, God allows them to experience the destructive consequences of their choices. This isn’t because He doesn’t care—it’s because sometimes we need to learn firsthand how destructive sin is in order to turn back to Him. It’s a painful process, but one designed to bring us back to the good, righteous, and holy Father.

This is beautifully illustrated in the parable of the prodigal son. The son goes to his father and says, "I want my inheritance now. I don’t want to wait for you to die—I want to live my own life." Despite the older brother’s objections, the father agrees and gives the younger son his inheritance, allowing him to leave. The father doesn’t stop him but lets him experience the consequences of his choices. Eventually, when the son hits rock bottom, he realizes the goodness of his father and returns home. The father welcomes him with open arms, showing us the heart of God.

In the same way, God allows us to go our own way if we insist, but His goal is always restoration. He wants us to see the emptiness of sin and come back to Him, the source of true life. This is the God we serve—a prophetic Father who warns, teaches, and ultimately desires to reconcile us to Himself.

It’s striking to think about the prodigal son and his father. What kind of father gives his son his inheritance early, knowing he’s likely to squander it? But that’s exactly what happens in the parable. The son believes he can make a name for himself apart from his father. He’s convinced he can do well on his own. He thinks leaving his father’s house and abandoning his father’s identity will lead to success. But instead, he finds himself broken and suffering, working for a pig farmer, rolling in filth, and still starving. It’s in that low place that he realizes how much better it was in his father’s house. He remembers that his father’s teaching, his father’s ways, and his father’s warnings were always true. So he returns home, and his father welcomes him with open arms.

This parable mirrors the story of humanity. The whole world suffers from the consequences of sin, and every person who doesn’t know Jesus is caught in that suffering. Why does God allow His wrath to be enacted on the earth in this way? If we look back at earlier parts of Revelation, like the trumpets and seals, we see partial judgments described using the language of "thirds." A third of the earth, a third of the sea, and so on. What does this mean? It shows that God, even in judgment, is restraining His wrath. He allows only partial consequences, not the full weight of sin, so that humanity might recognize the destruction sin brings and turn back to Him in repentance.

God’s wrath plays a critical role in His role as a prophetic Father. It is not wrath for wrath’s sake; it is discipline intended to bring His children back home. God’s wrath is designed to wake us up, to bring us into His household, His kingdom, where we can live righteously and holy lives. It’s meant to show us that living for our own purposes, chasing after false gods, and pursuing the things of the world will never satisfy—they only bring destruction. God’s wrath is a call to set our eyes on Him.

We see a similar principle in 1 Corinthians, where the Apostle Paul addresses a man in the church living in blatant immorality—so much so that even those outside the church find his behavior unacceptable. Paul advises the church to cast him out, saying, "Hand him over to Satan for the destruction of the flesh, so that his spirit may be saved on the day of the Lord" (1 Corinthians 5:5). Paul understood that the day of final judgment is coming, and his advice was to let the man face the consequences of his sin. Like the prodigal son, the hope was that he would experience the destruction sin brings, repent, and return to God with a spirit of humility and restoration.

This paints a clear picture: God is not an angry, vindictive deity, lashing out in unrestrained rage. Rather, God uses the discipline we experience as a result of sin to draw us closer to Him. He uses the consequences of rebellion, both individual and corporate, to invite humanity into a new, eternal relationship with Him—a relationship rooted in His eternal kingdom, which will one day operate in perfect harmony.

Now, this raises another important question: How can God be a God of love if He is also angry with humanity? The tension here often stems from a misunderstanding of God’s anger. We might think of anger in human terms, as someone who "flies off the handle" or responds irrationally to frustration. But that is not the kind of anger God displays.

God’s anger is not uncontrolled or petty. It’s rooted in His holiness and His love. His wrath is not born out of malice, but out of a desire to confront the sin that destroys His creation. It’s the righteous anger of a Father who refuses to give up on His children. God’s love and anger are not in conflict. They are two sides of the same coin—the love of a Father who disciplines, teaches, and ultimately welcomes His children back with open arms.

The bowls of wrath in Revelation, then, are not evidence of a God who has abandoned love. They are the actions of a Father who has never stopped loving, never stopped warning, and never stopped inviting humanity to come home. His love endures, even in the face of humanity’s rebellion.

God's love is like that of a father who never gives up on his child. He says, "You’ve made a mistake, but I’m here for you. I’m going to help you, empower you, and encourage you. I want you to get back up, work through this, and move forward." A loving father continues to teach, warn, and counsel his children no matter how many times they fall. And God never, ever gives up on His children.

The only sin that is unforgivable, as described in Scripture, is what we often call blasphemy of the Holy Spirit. But at its core, the unforgivable sin is a persistent lack of faith in Jesus—a refusal to acknowledge Him as Lord. The one thing God will not forgive at the end of all things is the sin of refusing to come home, the sin of the prodigal son who never returns to the father. It’s the rejection of God’s teaching, the denial of His warnings, and the refusal to live under His kingship.

This is why, when we talk about faith, I prefer to ask people: Will you submit to Jesus as Lord? Will you recognize His power and authority as King, seated on His throne? Will you commit to living in His kingdom? That’s the heart of the matter. It’s about acknowledging that living apart from God—living in sin—is rebellion. It’s about coming back to God, believing in Jesus, and submitting to Him as your Lord, your King, your Master. When you do, you can truly call God "Father" again. That’s what it means to return to Him, and that’s the relationship Scripture describes when it speaks of God as our Father.

God is a loving Father, but through His righteous anger, He sometimes disciplines us to draw us back to Him. His discipline is not arbitrary or vindictive; it is always aimed at repentance. Sometimes we suffer partially as a result of sin—because God is calling us back to Himself. But there’s a sobering reality: there are those who go so far in their rebellion that they lose their ability to return.

Take Pharaoh in the Old Testament as an example. In the story of the Exodus, Moses and Aaron went before Pharaoh multiple times, saying, “Let my people go.” During the first five plagues, we are told that Pharaoh hardened his heart. He continually refused to listen to God’s warnings. But then, beginning with the sixth plague, the narrative changes—Moses tells us that God hardened Pharaoh’s heart. What does this mean? It means there came a point where Pharaoh’s rebellion peaked, and God gave him over to the destruction of his sin. After showing patience again and again, God enacted His full wrath upon Pharaoh and Egypt, no longer allowing Pharaoh an opportunity for repentance. This is a sobering reminder that persistent rebellion can lead to ultimate destruction.

Now, let’s look at the seven bowls of wrath in Revelation 15 and 16. These bowls are distinct from the trumpets and the seals we’ve seen earlier. The seals represent suffering that occurred during Old Testament times, and the trumpets symbolize suffering in New Testament times after Jesus. But the bowls of wrath are different—they represent the final and complete destruction of the earth. Revelation 15:1 says: "I saw another great and awe-inspiring sign in heaven: seven angels with the seven last plagues, for with them God’s wrath will be completed."

Some might interpret these bowls as simply another symbolic retelling of the trumpets or seals, but the text is clear: these are the seven last plagues. They come after the trumpets and seals, ushering in the very end of the age. In the trumpets and seals, we see partial judgments—destruction affecting only a third of the earth. But with the bowls, the language shifts. These plagues impact the entire earth. The destruction is total, marking the culmination of God’s wrath.

Revelation 16:17 says: "Then the seventh poured out his bowl into the air, and a loud voice came out of the temple from the throne, saying, 'It is done!'" This is the final act of judgment. The bowls are not just partial warnings like the trumpets—they are the full outpouring of God’s wrath upon a rebellious world.

But even in this, God’s purpose remains clear. His wrath is not random or vindictive—it’s the ultimate call for repentance. For those who refuse to return to the Father, these bowls of wrath demonstrate the devastating consequences of rebellion. Yet, for those who respond to God’s discipline and repent, His love and mercy remain steadfast.

In Revelation 16:17, it says, "The seventh angel poured out his bowl into the air, and a loud voice came out of the temple from the throne, saying, 'It is done.'" This voice from the throne is Jesus, echoing His words from the cross: "It is finished." On the cross, Jesus declared that His reconciling work for the world was complete—that His love had accomplished redemption. Here, at the very end of all things, Jesus declares once again that the work is finished. This time, it is the culmination of God's judgment, and the final step before God ushers in His eternal kingdom.

The pouring out of these seven bowls marks the completion of God's wrath. The judgment has been enacted, and now God moves forward to establish His eternal kingdom—a kingdom where we will live with Him forever. This is the last necessary step before God restores all things and brings His redeemed people into His everlasting reign.

So, how can God be a God of love if He is also angry at humanity? The answer lies in understanding that God's love and wrath are inseparable. For God to fully love and redeem His people, He must also fully deal with sin and rebellion. Without enacting His full wrath upon sin, He cannot fully enact His love for those who have repented and come to Him. It’s a necessary balance—a reality that stems from His holiness and justice.

God’s love has been extended to the entire world. He sent His Son so that everyone who believes in Jesus, bows before Him, and submits to His lordship can have eternal life. God’s wrath is not poured out on people who have never had the opportunity for reconciliation. Rather, His patience has endured for thousands of years, offering time for all to repent and return to Him. But there is an end to His patience. God is a patient Father, longing for all to come to repentance, but He has also decreed that an end will come.

Some people misunderstand Christianity, thinking it’s about hating those who live differently. They say, “Christians believe they’re going to heaven because they go to church, while everyone else goes to hell.” Or they accuse Christians of hypocrisy, pointing out that some people in the church are just as flawed or sinful as those outside. They caricaturize Christianity as being about self-righteousness and condemnation, instead of understanding that it’s about grace.

The truth is, Christianity is not about Christians claiming to be better than anyone else. It’s about recognizing that we are all sinners in need of salvation, grace, and mercy. The message of the Gospel is not one of hatred but of hope—hope for redemption, forgiveness, and restoration through Jesus Christ.

There’s a tendency to agree on certain moral principles that seem universal, like condemning murder, theft, or adultery. Even outside the church, people generally agree that such acts are harmful and wrong because they hurt others. But when it comes to other topics—hot-button issues like gender, sexuality, or abortion—these often become dividing lines between Christianity and the broader culture. Unfortunately, many people outside the church misunderstand this moral stance, thinking Christians hate those who differ from them or live contrary to biblical principles.

For example, some believe Christians condemn those with different sexual orientations or lifestyles, assuming the message is, "If you’re heterosexual, you’re part of God’s kingdom, but if you’re not, you’re going to hell." That’s not what the Bible teaches. The core of Christianity is not about condemning others; it’s about admitting our own sin and recognizing our need for grace. What defines a Christian is not perfection, but repentance and submission to Jesus as Lord.

Yet, somehow this message often gets distorted. Instead of being seen as proclaimers of grace and forgiveness, Christians are caricatured as judgmental, hateful, or hypocritical. Some even think all Christians are capitalists who only care about money and have no desire to help the poor. These are gross misrepresentations of what Christianity truly stands for.

The reality is this: Christians are people who recognize their own brokenness and depend on the grace and mercy of God. The Gospel message is that God loves the world so much that He sent His Son to redeem us, and that includes anyone willing to turn to Him, regardless of their past. The wrath of God we see in Revelation is not about hatred—it’s about the ultimate resolution of sin and the final establishment of God’s kingdom, where love, justice, and righteousness will reign forever.

Frankly, the idea that Christianity—especially evangelical Christianity—is about hating the poor, being hypocritical, or enforcing a specific political agenda is a gross and historically ironic caricature. Being fiscally conservative doesn’t mean Christians hate the poor, and not all Christians are fiscally conservative. It’s important to note that Christianity is not tied to any political party. There is no "Christian party" because the kingdom of the world is fundamentally at odds with the kingdom of God, no matter which political ideology you ascribe to.

Christianity isn’t about politics. It’s not about aligning yourself with a political candidate or platform. It’s not even about being a "good and moral person" in the eyes of society. At its core, the message of the Bible and the purpose of Jesus’s work is rooted in free will—the idea that God allows people to believe and live as they choose. God doesn’t force anyone to believe something they don’t want to believe. If you don’t want to believe something is immoral, He won’t force you. If you don’t want to acknowledge that you’re a sinner, He won’t compel you. If you don’t want to believe that Jesus is the Almighty Creator, He’ll let you walk away. God gives people the freedom to choose their path.

But with freedom comes responsibility. God will not stop you from sinning, nor will He stop you from experiencing the consequences of your actions. Every choice we make has consequences—some positive, some negative—and God allows those consequences to unfold. At the end of the day, God always gives people what they truly want.

Now, someone might say, "Well, I prayed for a bicycle, or a BMW, or a better job, and God didn’t give me that." But this isn’t about temporal, material things. It’s about ultimate realities. Ultimately, if you don’t want to live forever in God’s kingdom, if you don’t want to submit to His authority or His standard of morality, God won’t force you. He will give you over to the consequences of that decision—eternally.

Scripture makes it clear that all of us have been in rebellion against God. As Romans 3:23 says, "For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God." Every one of us has chosen what is not God at some point. And if someone doesn’t come in repentance, falling at the feet of Jesus and acknowledging Him as Lord, then God will give them exactly what they’ve asked for: a life and eternity apart from Him. If someone chooses the kingdom of this world over the kingdom of God, then they will inherit the destruction that comes with that kingdom.

But here’s the key: Christians don’t hate people who are different from us. True Christians love others because we recognize that we were once in the same place. We know what it’s like to be lost in sin. And even now, as Christians, we are still in the process of being redeemed, still wrestling with sin in some form.

When we see someone living in ways that defy God’s standard of morality, we are called to love them—not because we are better, but because we’ve been there too. We don’t condemn; we invite. If someone is yelling hateful things at others because of their sin—if they’re showing anger instead of mercy—that person isn’t representing God’s heart. They aren’t reflecting the message of the Bible. They aren’t living as true Christians.

To be a Christian is to identify with the sin of the world and, more importantly, to identify with the Savior as the solution. It’s not about creating division or separation because of someone else’s sin. Instead, it’s about pointing people to the hope, grace, and mercy of Jesus. It’s about acknowledging that we are all sinners in need of a Savior and extending the same invitation to others to come to Jesus.

I fear that, as Christians, we may sometimes contribute to misconceptions about what the church is really about. Perhaps we haven’t been as front and center in offering grace and mercy as we should have been. But the truth remains: God loves everyone and has offered a way for everyone to escape His wrath through Jesus. This is not something we deserve—we only deserve wrath. Yet, God has freely provided us a way of escape. He has given us the way in Jesus, the truth in Jesus, and life in Him.

As we close, a critical question emerges: Can people still repent and give their lives to Jesus during the final times? This text offers insight. We are not in those final times now. Right now is the time to repent. Let’s highlight what Scripture says about this.

Revelation 15:8 states: "The temple was filled with smoke from the glory of God and from His power, and no one could enter the temple until the seven plagues of the seven angels were completed." This indicates a "travel ban," so to speak, into the kingdom of God during the time of these plagues. When the fullness of the plagues comes, the time to repent seems to have passed. And the testimony of the text confirms this.

Revelation 16:9-11 says: "People were scorched by the intense heat, so they blasphemed the name of God, who has the power over these plagues, and they did not repent and give Him glory. The fifth angel poured out his bowl on the throne of the beast, and its kingdom was plunged into darkness. People gnawed their tongues because of their pain and blasphemed the God of heaven because of their pains and their sores, but they did not repent of their works."

The people John sees in this vision do not repent. Even in the midst of suffering and wrath, they refuse to turn back to God. This future time will come, and during the period of the seven bowls, all those who remain aligned with the kingdom of the world, who have not repented and submitted their lives to Jesus, will no longer have an opportunity to repent. The text is clear: During the fullness of God’s wrath, repentance will no longer be an option.

This means that the time to repent is now. Right now is the time to turn to Jesus. Some might ask, "When will these seven bowls come?" The truth is, we don’t know. I don’t know when this time will begin. But the ultimate application of the entire book of Revelation is this: It’s meant to show us where we are now.

Right now, we live in a time where everyone—Christian and non-Christian alike—experiences suffering. Everyone feels the destruction sin has wrought upon the earth. We endure partial suffering now, partial consequences of sin, and even the partial wrath of God. But Revelation makes it clear that a day is coming when sin will reap its full measure upon the earth, and the destruction will be complete.

The only way to escape that day is to believe in Jesus. To come into His kingdom, where He is Lord, where He reigns as King, where He sits on the throne with all authority. Every other power, every other so-called god, will be cast down. Nothing else will stand. This earth is headed toward a dramatic end, and the only way to escape it is to consider what you know, to consider what you’ve heard, and to come to Christ.

I realize that belief can take time, and true faith often grows gradually. But at some point, you need to make a decision. What you choose to believe ultimately takes root in your heart. If you desire Jesus—if you want to be saved from the destruction of sin—you must recognize the reality of sin all around you. The Scriptures testify to this reality but also to the reality of the Savior. Jesus is the only one who can rescue you from the suffering in this world and the destruction that is coming.

For some of you, this might mean making a decision today. It might mean saying out loud, "I’m ready to follow Jesus." Maybe you’re sitting with someone or watching this on a livestream—tell them, "I haven’t been all in, but I want to be." Perhaps you’ve never made a commitment, and now is the time to say, "I want to follow Jesus." Or maybe you’ve been living in open rebellion, and it’s time to admit that to someone, saying, "I want to know more about this Jesus. I want to learn more about the Bible and God’s plan."

For others, it might mean taking the next step of obedience—getting baptized, joining a church, or committing to learn and live out all that Jesus has commanded as Lord and King. And for those who have called themselves Christians for some time, it might mean reevaluating priorities. Maybe you’ve been letting other things take center stage in your life. Now is the time to put Jesus at the center where He belongs.

The call is clear: the time to repent, the time to believe, the time to follow Jesus is now. Don’t wait. Don’t let the distractions of the world keep you from the eternal life and kingdom that only Jesus offers. He’s ready to welcome you, forgive you, and bring you into His kingdom forever.

Look to Jesus as He truly is—seated at the highest point, at the center of the throne room of God, in the ultimate seat of authority. There is no one higher, no one greater, and nothing else in your life should distract you from what He has called you to do. Following Him might require sacrifices. It might mean letting go of certain things or making changes in your life. But the time to believe is now because we don’t know when the end will come.

If you need to take a step of faith, make a commitment, or bring about a change in your life, I encourage you to reach out. Contact the church, connect with one of our pastors or leaders, and let us know how we can walk alongside you. Whatever step you need to take, we want to help you move forward in your faith.

Let me pray for you:

Lord, we come before You, thankful for Your Word. 

God, this passage reminds us of the dramatic reality of Your wrath and the seriousness of sin. Lord, we are sorry for the ways we have sinned and contributed to the destruction that sin has brought into this world. May we see our suffering—even the suffering caused by our own sin—as discipline. Help us to grow closer to You through it.

I pray for those hearing this now who may not have seen Your glory or recognized the suffering in their lives as a consequence of sin in this world. I pray that today would be the day they acknowledge it, confess it, and look to You as the Savior—the only one who can rescue them from eternal suffering and bring them into eternal joy and peace in Your kingdom.

Lord, bring conviction to our hearts. Stir in us a spirit of repentance now and a spirit of faith now. May we trust in You fully, following You as our King and Savior.

I pray this in Jesus’ holy name. Amen.