Is It Wrong to Want Vengeance (Romans 12:14–21)? | Exegetical, Theological, & Practical Reflections

February 1, 2025Kirk E. Miller

In Romans 12:19, Paul says we are not to avenge (enact punitive justice) ourselves. However, the reason we do this is not because as Christians we think vengeance itself is wrong. To the contrary! Again, justice, by definition, is just (good). (In fact, used with the a- prefix, this root is used to form the word “unrighteousness” in Roman 1:18 and elsewhere.) Rather, the reason we ought not enact vengeance for ourselves is that it doesn’t belong to us. God alone is judge, not us (Rom 12:19, citing Deut 32:35; see also Rom 14 where Paul, under different circumstances but in proximate context, emphasizes that God alone is judge).

In fact, the logic of Paul’s instruction here seems to be, you don’t need to enact vengeance, not because vengeance itself is bad and you are wrong to want it to happen, but precisely because you know it will happen. You don’t need to do it, because God will (Rom 12:19). In other words, the foundation for Paul’s commands throughout Romans 12:14-21—to bless in response to curse, not to repay evil with evil, to overcome evil with good, etc.—is this fact that we can trust that God will punish evil, so we don’t have to (in fact, we shouldn’t, since it’s not our prerogative). So likewise, Peter says that Jesus didn’t return reviling or threats (1 Peter 1:21-23), but “continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly” (v.23). Again, it’s not the absence of vengeance, but believing in its guarantee—God will “judge justly”—that enables his people to leave vengeance to God.

Nonetheless, this doesn’t mean we are indifferent to vengeance in this life or that it should never happen. To the contrary! As Paul continues in Rom 13:1-7, he describes the state as a “deacon” (often translated “servant” or “minister”) of God. In what sense? It is “an avenger [same root as “avenge” and “vengeance” in 12:19] who carries out God’s wrath on the wrongdoer” (Rom 13:4, ESV emphasis added). In other words, vengeance is God’s (12:19). But God also authorizes human means, like certain institutions in this life, to deliver that justice and protect victims—even here and now, at least to some degree (I like the word “provisional” here: provisional justice, as opposed to eschatological and ultimate justice).

An image of Logos Bible Software highlighting ever occurrence of each word in Romans 12–13 that shares the common route for vengeance.

I think the proximity in Paul’s use of ἐκδίκησις and ἐκδικέω (in Rom 12:19 and Rom 13:4) then is intentional. Remember, chapter divisions aren’t original, and unfortunately here that big “13” can make us feel a stronger shift in topic than is likely the case.

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Honoring God with Our Complaints (Laments)

January 5, 2025January 23, 2025Kirk E. Miller

Honoring God with Our Complaints: A Case for Laments
Faith Community Church
January 5th, 2025

Podcast link.

Do You Reach Out When Church Members Leave?

December 31, 2024January 1, 2025Kirk E. Miller

Church member, when someone resigns their membership and leaves your church, do you take the time to reach out to them?

If someone leaves your church due to a life transition, such as moving away for work or school, I hope you connect with them, say goodbye, and pray for them as they go. But I also have in view those who leave for other, often unannounced, reasons. What about those who leave? Do you also reach out to them to care for them as they go?

What if you made it a point to never let a fellow member leave without reaching out to them?
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If we take church membership seriously—as a covenant to the church and to one another—then our commitment to fellow members certainly includes caring for and looking out for each other while we are members of the same church. Being a part of a church involves promises and obligations to every member.

But it would also seem that part of honoring that covenant means caring about members as they leave and caring enough about the circumstances that led to their exit. Or do you simply cut ties, as if their departure doesn’t matter?

Consider what it communicates when someone leaves a church only to have zero—or very few—show even the most minimal amount of care so as to reach out. Departing from a church is often a difficult decision, at times occurring under already painful circumstances. For no one to reach out likely adds to that pain, making such people feel forgotten, neglected, like they apparently must not have mattered much to those who were once their fellow members, of no consequence to the very church they once called “family.”

Perhaps you’re thinking, “But that’s uncomfortable.” When, though, was church membership ever about your own personal comfort? Christlike community (see Phil 2:4b) involves caring enough about others to endure any personal discomfort for the good and care of others. It requires de-centering ourselves: our comfort and interests are not the priority (Phil 2:4a).

^2:4a Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. ^2:4b Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus.—Philippians 2:4

True Community Starts Where Convenience Ends (Romans 12:15)

December 22, 2024Kirk E. Miller

“Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.” (Roman 12:15 ESV)

The above commands are harder than we might assume at first blush.

When we are weeping, it can be hard to rejoice, let alone rejoice with others in their rejoicing. Their own rejoicing can remind us of our own lack thereof. Or we can even be tempted towards envy.

When others are weeping, weeping with them requires the inconvenience of acknowledging their turmoil and entering it with them. This always requires sacrifices, and sometimes we’d rather stick our heads in the sand rather than be disturbed by inconvenient truths.

Both commands, in other words, require de-centering ourselves and centering others, which, in my experience, we don’t like to do. We like to think we like to do this, and we convince ourselves by doing so in ways and at times when it’s convenient. Community is easy when all is well. But even when such community feels vibrant and meaningful, it’s nothing more than a “thick clique” if it reaches its limits at the point when things get hard. That’s not community; that’s just the facade, a cheap replica.

Love loves through the difficulty.

The Harmful Simplicity of Reductionistic Theology

November 17, 2024Kirk E. Miller

I take no issue with making the gospel central in all things (the church, preaching, the Christian life, etc.)

But one of the results of a malformed gospel-centeredness is a reductionistic theology that treats nearly every issue someone faces as a matter of sin to be dealt with. Sin is always seen, diagnosed, and treated as a root cause. Why? Because if the gospel is the solution to everything, and that gospel is primarily, if not exclusively, understood in terms of addressing sin, then sin is always the issue, and addressing sin with the gospel is always the solution.

I theorize we’re also susceptible due to a simplistic conception of total depravity. We give our doctrine of total depravity what we might call “maximalist” interpretive power. Yes, we are pervasively sinful (Isa 1:6). Total depravity is true. But, along with our simplistic gospel-centeredness, we misconstrue the doctrine of total depravity into a fixation on looking for sin everywhere. We misapply the doctrine of total depravity by searching for sin “behind every bush” and over-spiritualizing situations. But not everything is sin or is to explained by sin—at the very least, not exclusively so.

Added to this, training in pastoral counseling often focuses on teaching pastors how to address sin. So pastors are hardwired to approach situations in terms of sin and sanctification. Those are their default operating categories. The danger is, when you’re a hammer, you start to see everything as a nail.

I call all of this “reductionistic” because it takes true things (e.g., sin and a gospel that addresses it), but embraces these true things at the exclusion of other true things. For instance, someone comes to a pastor in suffering. But, instead of seeing their signs of trauma and affliction for what they are, the pastor diagnoses them as displaying a sinful refusal trust in God, rest in Christ, and obey the call to contentment. Instead of caring for the person and acknowledging their plight, they add insult to injury: they take someone who is suffering, and now further inflict them with wrongful condemnation. Often the suffering is ignored as not the “real” issue. Moreover, the sufferer may be treated as contentious or unrepentant when they (rightly) push back at the bad counsel.

The reality, though, is that humans are both sinners and sufferers. We are not only perpetrators of evil, but also victims to it. We not only sin; we are also sinned against. And the gospel meets not merely our sin but also our suffering. The good news (gospel) is not only that our sin is forgiven, but that Christ will undue the curse in all its effects—including evil and suffering.

This means, for example, that:

Although the Bible tells us to cast our cares on God (1 Peter 5:7), it also leads us in lament (complaint) to God (see the Psalter). Apparently the two are not mutually exclusive!
Or again, God is sovereign, but humans are also responsible. God’s sovereignty is not an excuse for inaction and resigning ourselves to evil and injustice. Sovereignty isn’t the same as fatalism; God uses means.
Yes, we are to forgive those who sinned against us (Eph 4:32). Yes, God will ultimately judge when Christ comes again (Acts 17:31). But God also establishes means for provisional justice in this life too (e.g., Rom 13:1–7). These are not mutually exclusive.
God works all things for good for those who love him (Rom 8:28). Yet among the things he works for good are things that are evil (see vv.35–39). Just because he works something for good does not mean it itself is good—and we don’t need to pretend that it is! These, too, are not mutually exclusively.

We could go on…

Why this matters? Bad theology makes for bad counsel. More pointedly, bad pastoral theology makes for pastoral malpractice—even spiritual abuse.