Interesting! We know that Peter and Paul were not always in agreement (Galatians 2). When caught between the two, I tend to be more quick to believe James or Peter, who spent years by Jesus’ side. All three were human and doing their level best to understand something that surpassed their limited knowledge. Also, God’s desire for all his children to return to him is more consistent with my understanding of a loving Father.
Hopefully I got this link copied properly. If this is something you are interested in, I highly recommend Dr. Flowers. His PhD is in this exact field. Not that it matters at all, but his explanations have been very helpful.
Personally, I never read Romans in that way, but he explained why some do. If you listen to enough of his videos, you will also hear his journey from that lens to his current POV after years of wrestling and studying. BTW, he is not a "doctor type." He comes off as a very normal and relatable guy.
In regard to your struggles getting traction on Substack, I get it. I'm right there with you. There's a lot of competition for attention. We have to just keep steady and do it because we want to or need to do it. God may be using this struggle to grow us or test us. Either way, though we may disagree on the nuance of God's methods, "we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him" (Rom. 8:28).
I don’t see a contradiction between these two passages—rather, they form a deeper whole. Together, they reveal a God who is neither arbitrary nor cruel, but profoundly patient, longing for us to return. Longing for us to break the spirals we keep circling in—this age-old pattern of turning away and crying out again, of power and injustice and systems that cast us into the wilderness.
2 Peter shows us that God is not slow—He is merciful. He delays judgment not because He is unsure, but because He hopes. He waits—not because He is weak, but because love holds space.
Romans 9 is often read as the opposite: as if God created vessels for destruction. But the text doesn’t say that so clearly. The Greek allows for another reading—one where the vessels have made themselves ready for ruin. One where it is not people themselves who are destined for destruction, but works, systems, structures—things that must be judged because they do not reflect the heart of God.
What comforts me most is where the passage leads. It does not end with exclusion, but with promise: “I will call her who was not beloved, ‘beloved.’” And: “In the very place where it was said to them, ‘You are not my people,’ they will be called sons of the living God.”
It reminds me of Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 3: “If anyone builds on this foundation using gold, silver, costly stones, wood, hay or straw, their work will be shown for what it is, because the Day will bring it to light. … It will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test the quality of each person’s work. If it is burned up, the builder will suffer loss—but yet will be saved, even though only as one escaping through the flames.”
This, to me, is the thread that runs through: God’s judgment is not aimed at destroying the human heart, but at dismantling the things that devour it. His justice is not blind rage—it is clear, fierce love. It is not the end of the soul—it is the uncovering of what must die, so something better can live.
Interesting! We know that Peter and Paul were not always in agreement (Galatians 2). When caught between the two, I tend to be more quick to believe James or Peter, who spent years by Jesus’ side. All three were human and doing their level best to understand something that surpassed their limited knowledge. Also, God’s desire for all his children to return to him is more consistent with my understanding of a loving Father.
This is an excellent examination of a fascinating aspect of the Bible, Steven.
I was just reading the other day about differing accounts of the same events regarding Peter and Paul that are described in Acts and Galatians.
Very interested to read more of your work.
Thank you for the encouraging words, Damien.
https://youtu.be/mycTFdXicn4?si=pl1bZg72XPic4xBh
Hopefully I got this link copied properly. If this is something you are interested in, I highly recommend Dr. Flowers. His PhD is in this exact field. Not that it matters at all, but his explanations have been very helpful.
Personally, I never read Romans in that way, but he explained why some do. If you listen to enough of his videos, you will also hear his journey from that lens to his current POV after years of wrestling and studying. BTW, he is not a "doctor type." He comes off as a very normal and relatable guy.
In regard to your struggles getting traction on Substack, I get it. I'm right there with you. There's a lot of competition for attention. We have to just keep steady and do it because we want to or need to do it. God may be using this struggle to grow us or test us. Either way, though we may disagree on the nuance of God's methods, "we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him" (Rom. 8:28).
Praying for you, my brother.
I watched a couple of videos on his channel but he appears to believe in free will, which I do not.
I don’t see a contradiction between these two passages—rather, they form a deeper whole. Together, they reveal a God who is neither arbitrary nor cruel, but profoundly patient, longing for us to return. Longing for us to break the spirals we keep circling in—this age-old pattern of turning away and crying out again, of power and injustice and systems that cast us into the wilderness.
2 Peter shows us that God is not slow—He is merciful. He delays judgment not because He is unsure, but because He hopes. He waits—not because He is weak, but because love holds space.
Romans 9 is often read as the opposite: as if God created vessels for destruction. But the text doesn’t say that so clearly. The Greek allows for another reading—one where the vessels have made themselves ready for ruin. One where it is not people themselves who are destined for destruction, but works, systems, structures—things that must be judged because they do not reflect the heart of God.
What comforts me most is where the passage leads. It does not end with exclusion, but with promise: “I will call her who was not beloved, ‘beloved.’” And: “In the very place where it was said to them, ‘You are not my people,’ they will be called sons of the living God.”
It reminds me of Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 3: “If anyone builds on this foundation using gold, silver, costly stones, wood, hay or straw, their work will be shown for what it is, because the Day will bring it to light. … It will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test the quality of each person’s work. If it is burned up, the builder will suffer loss—but yet will be saved, even though only as one escaping through the flames.”
This, to me, is the thread that runs through: God’s judgment is not aimed at destroying the human heart, but at dismantling the things that devour it. His justice is not blind rage—it is clear, fierce love. It is not the end of the soul—it is the uncovering of what must die, so something better can live.