“O Crazy Love!” — God Is Not a Punishing God

Some have thought and still think that God is a punishing God.  But nothing could be further from the truth.

For instance, I recently was at a counseling session, and a woman in her mid-50s lamented that for years she felt God was punishing her for her sins. She had an abortion at an early age, and then suffered a miscarriage. She had endured broken relationships with men, and finally experienced the heartbreaking loss of her son to an overdose. Through tears, she said she believed all of this was God’s retribution.

I said to her gently but firmly, “God is NOT a punishing God. In fact,” I told her, “God is crazy in love with you.”

That idea – that God’s love borders on the wild, uncontainable, and even irrational – is not new. It echoes through the centuries in the voices of saints and mystics who understood that divine love surpasses all logic.

One of the most striking expressions of this truth comes from Saint Catherine of Siena, a 14^th century Dominican mystic and Doctor of the Church. In her “Dialogue of Divine Providence” she writes  (Treatise of Discretion, par. 62) of Christ as the bridge between God and humanity:

“By Mercy You have washed us in the Blood, and by Mercy You wish to converse with Your creatures. Oh, Loving Madman! was it not enough for You to become Incarnate, that You must also die? . . . Oh, Divine Mercy! My heart suffocates in thinking of you, for on every side to which I turn my thought, I find nothing but mercy.”

For Catherine, God’s mercy is not a mere attribute, it is His very identity. She describes Him as “Pazzo d’amore,” a “loving madman” or a “mad lover,” so overwhelmed by love for His creation that He stoops down into human suffering, takes on our flesh, and dies for our redemption. The mystery of such a God is not one of punishment but of passionate pursuit.

The Misunderstanding of a “Punishing” God

It’s not hard to see why so many, like the woman at the counseling session, carry a distorted image of God. When life is filled with pain – a miscarriage, a failed marriage, a lost child – it’s human to ask, “What did I do wrong?” or “Is God angry with me?”

Yet this notion of divine retribution is far from the heart of biblical revelation. While the Old Testament sometimes uses the language of punishment, its deeper message is that even God’s justice is rooted in love. The psalmist declares:

“The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in mercy. He will not always accuse, nor does he keep his wrath forever.” (Psalm 103:8-9, NABRE)

God’s justice and mercy are not opposing forces; they are two sides of the same love. Punishment in the divine sense is never vindictive – it is corrective, meant to draw us back into communion. But Jesus came to reveal something even more radical: that God does not merely correct from afar – He “seeks” us, “runs” toward us, and “rejoices” when we are found.

The “Crazy” Love of God in the Parables

In a beautiful sermon, Bishop Robert Barron reflects on this very theme, utilizing Saint Catherine’s words, he describes God’s love as “O Pazzo d’Amore” – O Crazy Love! He turns to the fifteenth chapter of Luke’s Gospel, where Jesus tells three parables that unveil the astonishing persistence of divine mercy and love: The Lost Sheep, The Lost Coin, and The Prodigal Son.

In the Parable of the Lost Sheep, Jesus says:

“What man among you having a hundred sheep and losing one of them would not leave the ninety-nine in the desert and go after the lost one until he finds it? And when he does find it, he sets it on his shoulders with great joy.” (Luke 15:4-5, NABRE)

By human standards, the shepherd’s behavior is reckless. Who would risk ninety-nine sheep for one stray? Yet this is precisely Jesus’ point – divine love does not calculate. God’s love is excessive, unmeasured, and irrational by worldly logic. It is a love that searches relentlessly, refusing to rest until the lost one is safely home.

The Parable of the Lost Coin carries the same message:

“What woman having ten coins and losing one would not light a lamp and sweep the house, searching carefully until she finds it? (luke 15:8, NABRE)

This image of a woman sweeping the floor to find a single coin portrays the tenderness of God’s care. To us, the loss seems small – but to God, every soul is of infinite worth. Heaven rejoices even over one heart that turns back to Him.

Finally comes the most famous parable of all – The Prodigal Son.

The younger son demands his inheritance, squanders it on a life of excess, and finds himself destitute. When he decides to return home, he expects punishment. Instead, Jesus paints an image of the Father that overturns every fear:

“While he was still a long way off, his father caught sight of him and was filled with compassion. He ran to his son, embraced him, and kissed him. (Luke 15:11-32 NABRE)

This is the heart of the Gospel. The Father does not wait for an apology, does not demand repayment, and does not scold or condemn. He runs. He throws his arms around the sinner before a word of repentance is spoken. That is O Pazzo d’Amore – the God who loves beyond reason.

Mercy That Heals, Not Punishes

When we suffer, it’s easy to imagine a punitive God – a divine judge tallying our failures. But the Gospel reveals a different reality. Suffering is not God’s punishment, it is often the place where His love breaks through most deeply. As the Apostle Paul writes, “We know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.” Romans 8:28, NABRE.

This does not mean God causes our pain. It means that nothing, not sin, not loss, not even death, can separate us from His redeeming love. Suffering, when united with Christ’s own, becomes the very bridge that leads us closer to Him.

When I told the woman at the retreat that God was “crazy in love” with her, I saw a flicker of light break through years of guilt and sorrow. For the first time, she allowed herself to believe that God’s mercy was greater than her mistakes. That belief is the beginning of healing – not because her past changed, but because her image of God did.

The Cross: The Ultimate “Mad Love”

The madness of divine love reaches its climax on the Cross. Jesus does not die to satisfy an angry God; He dies to reveal the depth of divine mercy. “God proves his love for us,” writes Paul, “in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8, NABRE).

The Cross is not punishment – it is the self-emptying of love that stoops so low it lifts us up. When we gaze upon the crucified Christ, we are meant to see not wrath but compassion, not condemnation but invitation. The wounds of Jesus are not marks of vengeance but open doors of mercy.

Living in the Light of Divine Love

To know that God is not a punishing God but a loving one changes everything. It frees us from fear, shame, and the belief that we must earn His approval. It teaches us that repentance is not groveling before an angry judge but returning to the embrace of a Father who has been running toward us all along.

When we finally accept that truth – when we let it soak into our hearts – we discover what St. Catherine of Siena meant when she cried out, “Oh, Loving Madman!” For in the end, it is not “we” who seek God, but “God” who never stops seeking us.

As Jesus says, “There will be rejoicing among the angels of God over one sinner who repents.” (Luke 15:10, NABRE)

That joy – the joy of heaven – is what God feels when His lost children come home.

So to every heart that still fears God’s punishment, hear this truth: God is not punishing you. God is pursuing you. His love is greater than your sin, deeper than your sorrow, and wilder than your imagination.

He is, in the words of St. Catherine and Bishop Barron alike, “O Pazzo d’Amore,” the God who is crazy in love with you!