Understanding יהוה’s Nature: The Language and Penalties of Scripture in Context

Throughout history, misunderstanding יהוה’s nature has caused confusion and division among believers and has even served as a stumbling block to non-believers. One of the earliest—and perhaps most influential—contributors to this confusion was Marcion of Sinope, a second-century figure whose radical teachings, though long condemned, may still echo subtly in certain theological assumptions and attitudes within parts of the church today.

Marcion proposed a stark divide between the God of the Old Testament and the God of the New Testament. He called the Old Testament God the “Demiurge,” a harsh, wrathful, and legalistic figure, completely different from the loving and gracious Father revealed through יהושוע the Messiah. According to the early church historian Tertullian in Against Marcion (Book 4, Chapter 10), Marcion viewed the Demiurge as “a god who is just and wrathful, but altogether different from the true God who sent Christ.” Marcion boldly claimed, “The God of the Law and the Prophets is not the Father of Jesus Christ” (as cited by Epiphanius, Panarion 42), rejecting the entire Old Testament and reshaping the New Testament to fit his view. As Marcion himself declared (fragments preserved by Tertullian, Against Marcion 1.26), his aim was to remove the “burdensome yoke of the Law” to present a gospel free from what he saw as the demands and judgments of the Old Testament law.

Though condemned by early church leaders as heresy, Marcion’s teachings planted a dangerous seed that continues to influence Christian thought, often in subtle and unconscious ways. Many believers today unknowingly carry this dualistic mindset, picturing two separate gods: the stern, angry deity of judgment and law found in the Old Testament, and the gentle Father of love and grace revealed in the New Testament.

Modern Echoes of Marcionism

This mindset is not merely theoretical—it surfaces in subtle but telling ways within the modern church. In some places, the Old Testament is almost entirely ignored in preaching or treated as a historical curiosity, while the focus remains solely on the New Testament. In conversations, believers may dismiss challenging passages with the phrase, “That’s the God of the Old Testament,” as though He were different from the Father revealed through Messiah. Others emphasise “love” in a sentimental sense, divorced from the holiness and justice that give love its depth and definition. These quiet distortions, though less extreme than Marcion’s outright rejection, still erode the unity of Scripture and misrepresent יהוה’s nature.

This perception creates a false division that undermines the unity and continuity of Scripture. Such a split can lead to dismissing the Old Testament as harsh, irrelevant, or even obsolete—a mere collection of outdated rules and wrathful commands disconnected from the New Testament’s message of grace. This fractured view diminishes appreciation for the Old Testament’s rich portrayal of יהוה’s covenantal faithfulness, justice, mercy, and holiness—all of which are integral to understanding the fullness of His character.

Covenant Continuity

To see why this division is so damaging, we must remember that the continuity of יהוה’s nature is inseparable from the continuity of His covenant purposes. From the very beginning, His plan of redemption unfolds through a series of covenants—each building upon the last, all pointing toward their fulfilment in Messiah. The promise given in Eden (Genesis 3:15) leads to the covenant with Noah, reaffirming His commitment to preserve life. The covenant with Abraham establishes a chosen people through whom all nations would be blessed. The covenant at Sinai sets apart Israel to reflect His holiness. The covenant with David affirms an everlasting kingdom. Finally, the New Covenant, promised in Jeremiah 31, brings the law into the hearts of His people through Messiah יהושוע. These are not disconnected contracts; they are one unfolding promise from the same faithful God.

Moreover, this division distorts the redemptive plan woven throughout Scripture. יהוה’s justice and mercy are not opposing forces but complementary aspects of His nature, consistently demonstrated from creation through the prophets to the coming of Messiah יהושוע. Ignoring this unity risks skewing theology toward either legalism or antinomianism, both of which fall short of biblical truth.

Early opponents of Marcion, such as Tertullian, warned sharply against this error, stating plainly: “Marcion separates the Old Testament from the New and thereby creates two Gods, which is not faith but heresy” (Adversus Marcionem). Likewise, Irenaeus strongly affirmed the unity of God’s revelation: “The God of the Old Testament and the God of the New Testament is one and the same, the Creator of all, rich in mercy and justice” (Against Heresies, Book 4). These defenders of the faith recognised that any attempt to divide Scripture into contradictory parts not only distorts the character of יהוה but also undermines the very foundation of Christian belief. They insisted on the unity of Scripture and the consistency of יהוה’s nature. By affirming God’s unchanging character across both Testaments, they challenged believers to embrace Scripture as a seamless narrative of redemption—where justice and mercy, holiness and love, are deeply intertwined and perfectly revealed in the person of Messiah יהושוע.

Indeed, the Bible reveals one God who is both just and merciful, set-apart (holy) and loving. The “wrath” spoken of in the Old Testament is not arbitrary fury but the righteous response of a holy God confronting sin and injustice. As Psalm 103:8 declares, “יהוה is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.” Isaiah echoes this balance: “For יהוה is an Aluhym of justice; blessed are all those who wait for Him” (Isaiah 30:18). יהוה’s discipline is intended to protect and guide us away from destruction (Hebrews 12:6). At the same time, His mercy and compassion run deeply throughout both Testaments. The same יהוה who commands holiness also shows patience, kindness, and grace, as the prophet Joel reminds us: “For I am gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love” (Joel 2:13).

The New Testament reveals not a new God but the fullness of יהוה’s nature in Messiah יהושוע. His sacrifice, suffering, and resurrection are the ultimate expressions of יהוה’s love and justice united, making redemption available to all (John 3:16; Romans 3:25–26). 

Furthermore, יהוה is unchanging and has not shifted in character from one period of time to another. His nature is not subject to development or alteration as history unfolds. As יהוה Himself declares, “For I am יהוה, I do not change; therefore you sons of Jacob are not consumed” (Malachi 3:6). This is not merely a statement of divine constancy—it is a declaration of covenant faithfulness. If His character could shift, His promises would become uncertain, and His justice arbitrary. But He is unchanging, steadfast, and true to His word. The New Testament echoes this truth with equal clarity: “יהושוע Messiah is the same yesterday, today, and forever” (Hebrews 13:8). This affirms that the Redeemer revealed in the Gospels is none other than the same Aluhym who spoke from the burning bush to Moses, who gave the Torah at Mount Sinai, and who covenanted with His people from the beginning. There is no contradiction—only perfect consistency and unity in His nature and purpose. יהושוע Himself declared plainly, “I and the Father are one” (John 10:30). This profound statement silences the notion of a divided deity and affirms the unity between the Son and the Father—not merely in purpose, but in essence. To divide the Testaments, or to portray the God of Israel as somehow inferior or harsher than the Father of יהושוע, is to misunderstand the full revelation of יהוה.

His justice and His love and mercy are not in opposition. They are woven together in perfect harmony—displayed in His dealings with Israel, fulfilled in the sacrifice of Messiah, and extended to all who repent and believe. From Genesis to Revelation, יהוה is consistently revealed as the holy King, the compassionate Shepherd, and the righteous Judge. He is One.

Why Does the Bible Use Strong Language?

When we encounter words like wrath, judgment, destruction, and abomination in Scripture, it can be tempting to imagine יהוה as a harsh, angry tyrant in the sky—an authoritarian figure who delights in fear or control. But the reality is profoundly different. This strong language is necessary and purposeful. It arises not from caprice or cruelty, but from the absolute seriousness of sin’s consequences and יהוה’s unwavering commitment to our well-being. It is the speech of a loving Creator who sees the full consequences of evil and speaks with intensity to awaken and protect.

Strong language is necessary to express and emphasise the gravity and consequences of destructive behaviour. It communicates and confronts the seriousness of sin—not to condemn us into despair, but to awaken our conscience and drive us toward repentance and restoration. Sin, after all, is a spiritual disease—it harms our lives, corrupts our communities, and separates us from the very source of life. It is something we should earnestly strive to avoid.

YHWH’s (יהוה’s) clear—and at times severe—language is meant to awaken us to the danger of sin and draw us back from destruction into restoration. This divine language reflects the reality that sin’s consequences are not merely abstract, but deeply destructive. A gentle, vague suggestion like “It’s better for you not to do that”—delivered in a hesitant or sheepish tone—would never carry the urgency or weight necessary to confront the seriousness of sin. Such softness would fail to stir the heart or alert the conscience. Sin is like a spiritual disease that, if left untreated, spreads and causes irreversible damage. יהוה’s “wrath” is the righteous response of a holy and just Creator confronting what threatens the flourishing of His creation. It is the outworking of perfect holiness—one that cannot tolerate evil indefinitely. 

Imagine a loving parent catching sight of their small child reaching toward an electrical socket. The parent's voice would rise in alarm, and their response would be swift and intense—not out of anger or cruelty, but out of deep love and urgent concern for their child’s safety. Just as a parent might shout to stop a child from touching a live wire, יהוה’s warnings are meant to shock us awake—not to destroy, but to deliver.

YHWH’s (יהוה’s) commandments and His discipline flow from His perfect love and wisdom—not to unnecessarily restrict us, but to lead us into life, safety, and peace. His boundaries are not burdens—they are blessings, designed to guard our hearts and guide our steps. Even when His commands and warnings sound stern or severe, they arise from His righteous love and unwavering justice, as well as from a deep concern for our safety and betterment. Sin is not a trivial mistake—it is a force that breaks life physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

Moreover, יהוה’s strong language serves to protect the community and uphold justice. Sin is never a private matter; it has ripple effects that harm others and damage the collective well-being. The prophets’ denunciations of idolatry, injustice, and immorality are not tirades of anger but cries for communal repentance and healing—to come away from the things which tear at the fabric of society. The Bible’s forceful language is a call to turn away from paths that lead to ruin and to return to the One who gives life. Strong words defend the weak, uphold truth, and protect the integrity of יהוה’s people.

Unlike human parents who might issue threats of discipline that are often exaggerated or inconsistent, יהוה’s warnings are just and sure. (When parents give empty threats, children quickly recognise them and begin to ignore their warnings.) But יהוה is not like that. His justice is not arbitrary punishment—it is moral cause and effect. “Do not be deceived: Aluhym is not mocked, for whatever a man sows, that he shall also reap” (Galatians 6:7). This is intended to prepare us—to awaken our understanding that actions have consequences and that living outside יהוה’s design leads to harm.

Throughout Scripture, we see that יהוה’s discipline, though sometimes unpleasant, is always aimed at restoration. Hebrews 12:11 reminds us, “No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.” The loving discipline of יהוה is a form of teaching, correction, and care—like a skilled physician administering necessary medicine despite its bitterness, because it heals.

The “fear of יהוה” is foundational: “The fear of יהוה is the beginning of wisdom” (Proverbs 9:10). This fear is not terror, but reverence—a profound recognition of יהוה’s holiness and our responsibility before Him. It is the kind of wisdom that weighs the moral weight of choices and honours the boundaries יהוה has set for life and flourishing. Far from being oppressive, this fear is the beginning of true freedom.

We live in a culture that exalts a freedom without boundaries—a so-called freedom defined as the right to do whatever one desires without constraint or consequence. But this is not true freedom; it is, in fact, a subtle form of bondage. Even from a secular perspective, unlimited freedom often leads to physical, emotional, social, and existential captivity. Real freedom requires order, self-control, and a guiding principle beyond immediate desires. This requires, and is sustained by, a holy fear—the reverent awareness of יהוה’s authority and presence that shapes how we live.

Scripture teaches that true freedom is found in walking within יהוה’s design. As the psalmist declared, “And I will walk at liberty, for I seek Your precepts” (Psalm 119:45). True liberty is not the absence of all restraint, but the joyful submission to the wisdom of a loving King who knows what leads to life. יהושוע said, “If you continue in My word, you are truly My disciples. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (John 8:31–32). This is freedom with purpose—freedom grounded in truth and holiness, not merely the license to do as one pleases.

Finally, the ultimate goal of יהוה’s strong language is always life—abundant life. As יהושוע said, “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full” (John 10:10). Likewise, יהוה declares in Deuteronomy 30:19–20:

“I have called the heavens and the earth as witnesses today against you: I have set before you life and death, the blessing and the curse. Therefore you shall choose life, so that you live, both you and your seed—to love יהוה your Elohim, to obey His voice, and to cling to Him—for He is your life and the length of your days, to dwell in the land which יהוה swore to your fathers, to Aḇraham, to Yitsḥaq, and to Ya‛aqoḇ, to give them.”

This abundant life is found in walking in His truth, embracing His love, and living within the wise boundaries of His design. His warnings, judgments, and calls to holiness are not harsh declarations from a distant authority, but the tender voice of a loving Father who longs for our flourishing—who disciplines out of love and draws us to Himself so that we might walk in true freedom, righteousness, and peace. The warnings of Scripture are the voice of a Father saying, “Live.” They are an invitation to repent, return, and be restored.

Why Does the Bible Prescribe Harsh Penalties, Even the Death Penalty, for Certain Offences? 

One of the most difficult aspects of the Torah for modern readers to grasp is the presence of severe punishments—including the death penalty—for certain sins. This leads many to question whether the God of the Old Testament is harsh or excessively punitive. However, when we examine the Scriptures more closely, we find that these penalties reflect something far deeper: the holiness of יהוה, the seriousness of sin, the protection of the community, and the divine desire for repentance and restoration. 

The Purpose of Penalties: Justice and Deterrence 

Every just society recognises the need for laws—and consequences when those laws are broken. Penalties serve to deter harmful behaviour, uphold order, and protect the innocent. We see this principle in modern justice systems: in the United States, certain crimes such as murder or child predation may still carry the death penalty, sending a clear message that such acts are intolerable. In the United Kingdom, murderers may be sentenced to life imprisonment (often a minimum of 15 years or more), affirming that human life is precious and its unlawful taking demands a serious response.

This concept is not new. Even in the ancient world, law codes reflected similar principles—though often with bias and inequality. The Code of Hammurabi (c. 1750 BC), for example, imposed the same injury upon one who broke a noble’s bone, but required only a fine if the victim was a commoner (Laws 198–199). Such laws upheld social hierarchies and exempted kings from their own rules.

The Torah, by contrast, came directly from יהוה. It bound rulers and commoners alike to the same standard, guarding the vulnerable and forbidding partiality in judgment (Leviticus 19:15). This impartial justice was not simply about maintaining order—it reflected the holiness and righteousness of the Lawgiver Himself.

We instinctively understand this principle even within our homes. A parent who warns, “If you run into the street, you’ll be grounded,” is not acting out of cruelty, but out of love and a desire to protect their child from harm. Boundaries and consequences, rightly applied, are safeguards. Remove them, and children grow up undisciplined, communities break down, and true justice disappears.

Likewise, the Torah’s legal code operated within a covenantal framework—not merely as a civil system, but as a divine order designed to preserve life, safeguard the vulnerable, and maintain justice within a community set apart to reflect the holiness of יהוה.

Severity Reflects the Seriousness of Sin 

The severity of a penalty corresponds to the severity of the crime. In human courts, we recognise this: lying under oath is punished, but not as severely as murder. 

Likewise, in surrounding Ancient Near Eastern law codes, capital offences often served to protect royal authority or property rights. In the Torah, however, capital offences were tied to covenant faithfulness and moral purity before יהוה — for example, murder (Exodus 21:12), idolatry (Deuteronomy 13:6–10), witchcraft (Exodus 22:18), adultery (Leviticus 20:10), and blasphemy (Leviticus 24:16). These were not simply breaches of civil order; they were acts that threatened the very holiness and survival of the covenant community. 

The harshest laws were given to show just how serious sin is—not because יהוה delights in punishment, but because He wants people to understand the eternal consequences of rebellion and turn back to Him. These laws were not designed to create a bloodthirsty culture, but to demonstrate the weight of sin and to emphasise the importance of purity, truth, and communal integrity. Sin is not just a personal problem—it tears at the fabric of society. 

“You shall purge the evil from your midst.” (Deuteronomy 13:5; repeated in multiple laws) 

This repeated phrase emphasises that יהוה’s justice was not merely about punishing individuals, but about protecting the entire covenant community from evil, corruption and collapse. Without justice, sin spreads like a disease, as alluded to in Ecclesiastes 8:11, which says “Because the sentence against an evil deed is not executed speedily, therefore the heart of the sons of men is filled in them to do evil.” Like a cancer that must be removed before it kills the body, certain sins require strong measures for the sake of all. 

Deuteronomy 13:11 reveals that the punishments commanded—such as the death penalty for those who sought to lead others into idolatry, as detailed in this chapter—served a deeper purpose beyond mere retribution. The verse declares, “Then all Israel shall hear and fear, and no one among you shall do such evil again.” Justice was to be fair but swift, preserving the holiness of the nation and serving as a sobering deterrent. It reminded the people that turning away from יהוה—and especially influencing others to do the same—was not merely a private act of disobedience, but a grave rebellion against the covenant itself. Such actions threatened the spiritual integrity of the entire community, and thus demanded a response that upheld both truth and fear of יהוה.

Justice with Safeguards: A God of Mercy 

It is important to understand that biblical law was not a reckless or impulsive system. In the Ancient Near East, rulers could decree punishments arbitrarily and were themselves above the law. By contrast, the Torah demanded righteous judgment, careful examination, and the testimony of two or three witnesses (Deuteronomy 17:6–7). These legal standards were so high that capital punishment was rare in practice. Furthermore, Deuteronomy 16:19 explicitly forbids taking bribes or showing partiality — an uncommon safeguard in ancient societies, where bribery and class-based judgment were normal. 

Even more, יהוה repeatedly declares His desire is not to destroy sinners but to lead them to repentance:

“Say to them, ‘As I live,’ declares the Master יהוה, ‘I have no pleasure in the death of the wrong, but that the wrong turn from his way and live. Turn back, turn back from your evil ways! For why should you die, O house of Yisra’ĕl?’” — Ezekiel 33:11

YaHuWSHuWA (יהושוע) affirmed the seriousness of the Torah while also showing how mercy and repentance interact with justice. When the woman caught in adultery was brought to Him (John 8:1–11), He did not deny the law. Instead, He exposed the hypocrisy of the accusers and extended mercy to the woman, saying, “Go and sin no more.” This moment did not abolish the moral weight of her sin; rather, it showed that while the penalty could be death, יהוה desires repentance over destruction, as seen in Ezekiel 33:11. 

This principle is also exemplified in the story of Judah and Tamar. When Judah discovered Tamar was pregnant, he immediately called for her to be burned—asserting a harsh judgment. But when it was revealed that he was the one responsible, he confessed, “She is more righteous than I” (Genesis 38:26). This story illustrates an important truth: we often cry out for justice to be executed—until we recognise that we ourselves are guilty and deserving of punishment. The greater good is not simply that wrongdoers are punished, but that hearts are changed. Tamar was spared, and Judah was humbled. True justice in Scripture is not about destruction for its own sake; it’s about learning, repentance, and restoration. יהוה’s desire is always that none should perish, but that all should live in a way that leads to the best possible outcome—for individuals and for the community. 

Discipline, Not Destruction: The Heart of a Father 

Scripture shows again and again that יהוה disciplines His people not to crush them, but to correct and restore them. Hebrews 12:6 says:

“For whom יהוה loves He disciplines, and scourges every son whom He receives.”

Discipline may be painful, but its purpose is redemptive. As Hebrews continues:

“Later on it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.” — Hebrews 12:11

Discipline is an expression of a holy Father warning His children of real and eternal danger. These warnings are not the words of an angry tyrant, but of a Father calling His children back from the edge of destruction. 

Consider the example of a household where a father sets clear boundaries for his children, such as a rule requiring them to be home by 10 p.m. This boundary is not imposed to enslave or control them out of spite, but rather out of love and a sincere desire to protect them. Staying out late could expose them to danger or harmful influences. Even if the children do not fully understand the reasoning behind the rule, its purpose remains their safety and well-being. When a consequence is attached to breaking that rule, it is not about anger or cruelty—it is meant to impress upon them the seriousness of the boundary and to deter behaviour that could lead to harm. If a child comes home late and the father responds with sternness and follows through with the agreed-upon consequence, he is reinforcing the importance of the boundary. More than that, he is seeking to establish a clear, meaningful connection between the child’s action and its potential consequences—again, ultimately to prevent the very harm the rule was created to guard against. The child ultimately should learn not merely to obey a rule, but to trust the loving intent behind it—believing that their parents know better than they do, and that their care and guidance are trustworthy. This nurtures a deeper sense of security and creates a stronger “buy-in” where obedience is rooted in relationship, not mere obligation. However, even if such understanding or connection is not fully formed, the rule and its enforcement are still there for the child’s sake—for their protection and good.

The Ultimate Penalty Taken by the Righteous One

The sobering truth is that we have all broken יהוה’s righteous standards—committing sins worthy of death, whether in a civil, moral, or spiritual sense. Yet the most profound demonstration of both divine justice and mercy is found at the stake, where יהושוע the Messiah took upon Himself the penalty that we rightly deserved.

Romans 6:23 — “For the wages of sin is death, but the favourable gift of Aluhym is everlasting life in Messiah יהושוע our Master.”

YaHuWSHuWA (יהושוע) bore the full weight of our punishment, satisfying the demands of justice so that mercy could be poured out freely. In Him, justice was not abandoned—it was fulfilled. And in that same act, mercy triumphed. The Torah reveals our sin and our desperate need for salvation, and it is יהוה who meets that need through the atoning sacrifice of His Son.

Psalm 85:10 — “Kindness and truth shall meet, Righteousness and peace shall kiss.”

At the cross, these seemingly opposing realities—truth and mercy, justice and grace—met in perfect harmony.

The Cross and Old Testament Sacrificial Imagery

This harmony had been pictured in the Torah all along. The Passover lamb, whose blood marked the doorposts to shield Israel from judgment, pointed to Messiah as the Lamb of Aluhym who takes away the sin of the world. On Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, the high priest would offer the blood of a spotless animal to cleanse the people, while the scapegoat symbolically carried away their sins into the wilderness. Each sacrifice, each shadow, found its fulfilment in יהושוע, who became both the atoning sacrifice and the sin-bearer. The cross did not abolish the patterns of the Torah—it completed them in the ultimate display of justice satisfied and mercy poured out.

Even so, all of this does not negate the necessity of consequences for wrongdoing—even severe penalties when appropriate. The fact that Messiah bore the eternal penalty for our sin does not make sin any less serious—it magnifies its gravity. Divine mercy does not erase the principle of justice. Earthly discipline, whether from יהוה or through lawful authority, still serves to teach, to restrain evil, and to uphold righteousness.

This is why Sha’ul warns so strongly against misusing grace, saying in Romans 6:1–2:

“What then shall we say? Shall we continue in sin, to let favour increase? Let it not be! How shall we who died to sin still live in it?”

Here, Sha’ul emphatically rejects any notion that grace gives us license to sin. On the contrary, the immeasurable cost of that grace—Messiah’s own life—calls us to live in holiness and gratitude. Grace is not a free pass to trample the commandments, but the power to walk in newness of life. The seriousness of sin is not diminished by Messiah’s sacrifice—it is underscored by it. And in light of that, consequences for sin—even now—still serve a necessary role in shaping hearts, protecting communities, and honouring the righteousness of יהוה.

Holiness, Justice, and Mercy in Harmony

Harsh penalties in Scripture are about preserving holiness, protecting community, and pointing to the seriousness of sin. They reveal the high standards of a holy Aluhym who desires that none perish but that all come to repentance. Without such standards, sin would run rampant, and justice would be perverted. But יהוה is not only just—He is merciful. He offers both warning and invitation, justice and grace. He says, “Return to Me, and I will return to you” (Malachi 3:7). And through Messiah, He has made that return possible for all.

Practical Call to Action

This understanding calls for a practical and wholehearted response from the body of Messiah today. We must read and value both Testaments, allowing the full counsel of Scripture to shape our view of Aluhym’s character. We must guard against the temptation to pick and choose the attributes of יהוה that appeal to us, embracing instead His holiness and justice alongside His mercy and love. We should see His justice not as a threat, but as the protective love of a Father; and His mercy not as indulgence, but as grace that transforms. In a world that distorts both freedom and truth, we are called to walk in reverent obedience—trusting that every word He has spoken, whether warning or promise, flows from the same perfect heart.

Conclusion: The Full Picture of יהוה

The division of יהוה into two separate beings—the harsh, wrathful deity of the Old Testament versus the loving, merciful Father of the New Testament—is a misconception. It may stem from the same place that gave rise to Marcion’s ancient heresy and still subtly influences the body of Messiah today. This misunderstanding distorts the unity of Scripture and misrepresents the true nature of יהוה. Yet, Scripture reveals a consistent and unified God throughout both Testaments. The Old Testament is filled with profound expressions of God’s love, mercy, and desire for relationship, while the New Testament fulfils and expands on this divine character through Messiah יהושוע. From Genesis to Revelation, we are shown one God—unchanging, faithful, and true—who disciplines out of love, judges with justice, and saves with compassion.

YHWH’s (יהוה’s) nature is fully revealed in the New Testament, where He took on human flesh in Messiah יהושוע, suffered, and died in our place to redeem us. These are not the actions of a distant tyrant, but of a compassionate Creator who entered our brokenness to heal and restore us. And yet, this was no sudden shift—it was foretold from the beginning. The same Aluhym who judged sin in Genesis is the One who promised a Redeemer (Genesis 3:15), and who fulfilled that promise through the cross.

The strong language of Scripture is not a contradiction of יהוה’s love but a profound expression of it. These words reflect the gravity of sin and the lengths to which יהוה will go to call His people back to life, truth, and holiness. These warnings do not reflect a harsh, tyrannical deity, but rather a holy, loving Father who takes the consequences of sin seriously because He is wholly committed to our protection, flourishing, and restoration. Just as a parent sets firm boundaries for the safety of their children, יהוה’s words are intended to deter harmful behaviours and sustain order for the prosperity of all.

The so-called “scary” passages in Scripture—about יהוה’s anger and judgment—are not the whole story, nor are they in opposition to His mercy. For every stern warning, there is a loving plea: “Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts. Let him return to יהוה, and He will have compassion on him, and to our Aluhym, for He will abundantly pardon” (Isaiah 55:7). These dual realities—justice and mercy—form one consistent picture of a God who is both righteous and gracious, both Judge and Redeemer.

This includes the prescribed penalties in Torah, such as the death sentence for certain serious offences—not as acts of divine vengeance, but as expressions of divine justice rooted in holiness, love, and the call to communal purity. They emphasise the seriousness of sin and the need for order, protecting both individuals and society. At the same time, biblical justice is balanced by mercy, carefully administered with safeguards, always pointing to repentance and restoration rather than mere punishment.

In the fullness of Scripture, we see an Aluhym who is both just and merciful, holy and loving—one who disciplines to draw His people back to life and who redeems gracefully. The body of Messiah today must reject false divisions and embrace the full counsel of יהוה’s Word. יהוה is not merely loving or merely just—He is both, perfectly and eternally. His justice is not cruelty, but holiness refusing to tolerate what destroys life. His mercy is not permissiveness, but grace that restores what was broken. In Him, love and truth are never separated.

Let us therefore read Scripture seeing both the warnings and the promises as flowing from the same divine heart. Let us honour יהוה not by reshaping His image to suit our preferences, but by receiving His revelation as it is—strong, holy, compassionate, and perfectly unified in Messiah יהושוע. Let us then walk in reverent love, trusting both His mercy and His discipline, knowing that both lead us into life.

May יהוה be with you and bless you.