unloving soul.

But God's very love compels Him to punish.

Some modern notions of the love of God seem to strike out righteousness
from His nature altogether, and substitute for it a mere good nature
which is weakness, not love, and is cruelty, not kindness.

There is nothing in the facts of the world or in the teachings of the
gospel which countenances the notion of a God whose fondness prevents
Him from scourging.

What do you call it when a father spares the rod and spoils the child?

Even this world is a very serious place for a man who sets himself
against its laws. Its punishments come down surely and not always
slowly. There is nothing in it to encourage the idea of impunity.

That work is to Him an Unwelcome Necessity. Bold words. 'I have no
pleasure in the death of a sinner.' 'He doth not willingly inflict.' The
awful power of sin to divert the current of blessing. Christ's tears
over Jerusalem. How unwelcome that work is to them is shown by the
slowness of His judgments, by multiplied warnings. 'Rising up early,' He
tells men that He will smite, in order that He may never need to smite.

That work is a certainty. However reluctantly He smites, the blow _will_
fall.

III. The Strange Work of Redemption.