There’s a phrase that echoes through church halls and pulpits: “God is sovereign.”

It’s often used as a safety net when tragedy strikes, a way to explain the unexplainable.

But in the real world—the world outside stained glass and Sunday sermons—this idea doesn’t bring people closer to God. It actually drives them away.

This was my experience before encoutering Jesus for myself, and sadly, it is still the experience of many today.

Why? Because it turns God into a cosmic puppeteer, a divine orchestrator of suffering, and people instinctively know that love doesn’t look like that.

“The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn’t exist.” — Charles Baudelaire

When disaster strikes, when sickness lingers, when tragedy hits, the common response is: “God allowed it.”

This definition of sovereignty works because it provides a neat answer for difficult questions, and it may bring temporary comfort, but it subtly paints God as an accomplice to suffering.

Allow means permit. And if God permits evil when He could stop it, isn’t He at least partially responsible?

This kind of theology is convenient—it keeps us from wrestling with hard questions. But it’s also dangerous because it misrepresents God’s nature. It portrays Him as distant, passive, and willing to use suffering as a teaching tool.

Yet, when we look at Jesus—who is the exact representation of God (Hebrews 1:3)—we see someone who healed the sick, restored the broken, and rebuked storms. Not once did Jesus tell someone, “God sent this suffering to teach you a lesson.”

There’s a difference between God being in control and God being controlling. The first acknowledges His authority; the second distorts His character.

Consider this: If a parent allows their child to walk into traffic when they had the ability to stop them, wouldn’t we call that negligence? So why do we give God a pass on something we’d condemn in humans?

Think about a king. A sovereign ruler has ultimate authority, but does that mean he directly causes every event in his kingdom? No. Sovereignty does not mean micromanagement.

Dallas Willard put it this way: "God's sovereignty is not about control, but about consent." He has chosen to allow free will—and thus, the real consequences that come from it.

“God is not the author of confusion, but of peace.” — 1 Corinthians 14:33

When we say, “God is sovereign,” we must also ask: Sovereign in what way? If sovereignty means that God always gets His way, then why did Jesus teach us to pray, “Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven” (Matthew 6:10)?

The implication is clear: God's will is not always done on earth, and it’s not because He’s unwilling—it’s because He’s given us agency (freedom of choice).

This issue isn’t just theological—it’s deeply personal.

In the church, saying “God is sovereign” might be enough. But out in the world, that answer creates resentment.

Step outside the church bubble, and this version of sovereignty starts to fall apart. When people hear that God controls everything—including suffering, abuse, and disasters—they don’t feel comforted. They feel confused.

• A mother loses her child to cancer. “God allowed it.”

• A war devastates a nation. “God is in control.”

• A person is abused. “God has a purpose in your pain.”

These responses don’t draw people to God. They make Him look indifferent, or worse—complicit.

Bad theology doesn’t just exist in theory—it has consequences. Many people have walked away from God, not because they rejected Jesus, but because they rejected a version of God that looked nothing like Him.

The Story of Mahatma Gandhi

Mahatma Gandhi was deeply drawn to the teachings of Jesus. He once considered converting to Christianity, believing that Christ’s message aligned with his pursuit of justice and peace.

But when he attempted to attend a church in South Africa, he was turned away at the door because of his race. The church leaders told him he wasn’t welcome in a “white man’s church.”

Disillusioned, Gandhi walked away and famously remarked:

“I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.”

It wasn’t Jesus who repelled him—it was the misrepresentation of Jesus by those who claimed to follow Him. Bad theology doesn’t just distort faith; it actively pushes people away from God.

“Jesus Christ is perfect theology.” — Unknown

If Jesus is the full revelation of God, then our understanding of sovereignty must align with how Jesus lived.

And what do we see in Him?

We see a God who heals, restores, and liberates—not one who orchestrates destruction.

If God isn’t behind suffering, then where does it come from?

A broken world – Romans 8:22 tells us creation itself is groaning, waiting for redemption.

Human choices – God gave us free will, and sometimes people’s choices result in suffering.

A real enemy – John 10:10 makes it clear: “The thief comes only to steal, kill, and destroy. I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.”

Blaming God for what the enemy does is one of Satan’s greatest deceptions. When we call destruction “God’s will”, we play right into his hands.

Many non-Christians (and even believers) reject God not because of Jesus, but because of the version of God they’ve been taught—one who causes suffering yet calls Himself good.

Ironically, the very doctrine that’s supposed to make God bigger (His sovereignty) ends up making Him seem distant, harsh, or morally questionable.

But when we see sovereignty through Jesus—the one who healed, delivered, and opposed suffering—it actually draws people to God, not away from Him.

At the end of the day, there are only two options:

• Either God directly or indirectly causes suffering.
• Or He doesn’t.

One of these aligns with Jesus. The other doesn’t. It can't be both.

This isn’t about making theology more comfortable. It’s about making it accurate.

“The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of His being.” — Hebrews 1:3

Jesus doesn’t just show us part of God. He shows us exactly who God is.

So the question is: Do we take Him at His word, or do we keep holding on to a theology that drives people away from the very God we’re trying to defend?

Edit: This video lesson below from Theologian and Teacher, Barry Bennett, was recorded several weeks after this blog—and is very fitting.

Enjoy!