Is God a Narcissist? A Theological Response to Erwin McManus
Why Divine Glory Is Not Divine Narcissism
Erwin McManus recently said something that many find honest—and others, troubling. On a recent episode of his podcast, he declared:
I have so vehemently been against Calvinism because if this view is correct, God is a narcissist.
Another theologian, he said, “Well, God is a narcissist, but he’s the only one who’s allowed to be.”
And the problem is that we’re created in God’s image, and if God’s a narcissist and we’re created in His image, then we too are all narcissists.
I cannot accept any view where God creates everything simply to glorify Himself, and will, without hesitation, send the majority of humanity into an everlasting hell fire so that He could have greater glory.
I think that’s a really dark and dangerous view of God.
I think the universal principle of all of God’s action is love.
Let me start with two brief disclaimers.
First, while I affirm a Reformed Baptist theological framework, I am aware that there are internal disagreements within Calvinism, particularly regarding infralapsarianism, the nature of reprobation, and how best to articulate God’s love and justice. I don’t pretend to speak for all Calvinists.
Second, I believe McManus is asking emotionally honest questions—questions many people in deconstructed or disillusioned spaces feel deeply. But honest questions still deserve thoughtful, biblical answers.
This critique reflects real spiritual tension. Many people today, especially in the wake of deconstruction or church trauma, are wrestling with inherited theological frameworks that seem cold, cruel, or incoherent. But emotional resonance alone doesn’t make something true. Theology requires discernment. And when we’re trying to untangle whether a doctrine reveals God’s true character or distorts it, we need more than gut instinct.
That’s where the Wesleyan Quadrilateral becomes useful; not as a rigid formula, but as a reliable tool for navigating big theological questions like this one.
The Wesleyan Quadrilateral: A Brief Introduction
The Quadrilateral is a methodological framework associated with John Wesley, the 18th-century founder of Methodism. Though he never called it by that name, scholars later summarized his theological approach as a “quadrilateral” with four sources of authority:
Scripture (the primary and final authority)
Tradition (the wisdom of the historical Church)
Reason (logic and rational coherence)
Experience (how God’s truth is lived and known personally)
Wesley used all four in concert, always prioritizing Scripture, but recognizing that our understanding of Scripture is enriched, and sometimes corrected, by the faithful witness of the Church, sound thinking, and real-world transformation.
This method is especially helpful when engaging emotionally charged theological questions. It keeps us rooted in the text, grounded in the historic faith, intellectually responsible, and pastorally attuned. So, let’s use it to test McManus’s claim that Reformed theology leads us to worship a narcissistic God.
God’s Glory Is Not Ego—It’s Essence
The Reformed tradition insists that God’s ultimate purpose is His own glory. And at first glance, McManus’s concern seems understandable—especially in a culture where narcissism ruins relationships and corrodes leadership. But we must ask: Is this how Scripture presents God’s pursuit of glory?
The Bible’s answer is emphatically no. God’s glory is not vanity—it is the manifestation of His infinite worth, and the most fitting goal of all creation:
“For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen.” (Rom. 11:36)
“Everyone who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory.” (Isa. 43:7)
“What if God, desiring to show his wrath and to make known his power… in order to make known the riches of his glory for vessels of mercy?” (Rom. 9:22-23)
To glorify God is to recognize Him rightly. And for God to glorify Himself is not narcissism—it is a reflection of His aseity (self-existence), holiness (utter distinctness), and worthiness (supreme value). If God were to glorify anything else above Himself, He would cease to be righteous.
Furthermore, Scripture reveals that God’s glory and God’s love are never at odds. In John 17, Jesus prays, “Father, I desire that they also… may be with me where I am, to see my glory… because you loved me before the foundation of the world” (John 17:24). God’s glory is the backdrop for His self-giving love. The cross, too, displays God’s glory and His justice, not in contradiction, but in perfect unity (Rom. 3:25-26).
McManus paints a picture of a God who sends people to hell out of self-centered rage. But that’s not the biblical portrayal. Hell is never arbitrary; it is the just consequence of persistent rebellion. And in Romans 9-11, even God’s judgment is shown to serve the larger story of mercy, redemption, and worship.
The Church Has Never Worshiped a Monster
The Christian tradition—Catholic, Orthodox, and Protestant alike—has always held that God is both glorious and just, and that hell is a sobering but necessary doctrine. Even early church fathers like Augustine and Athanasius affirmed eternal punishment and divine sovereignty—not because they thought God was cruel, but because they took sin, holiness, and grace seriously.
The Reformation confessions, such as the Westminster Catechism, begin with this famous line:
Man’s chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy Him forever.
That’s not narcissism—it’s worship. For God to pursue His own glory is for Him to invite us into the highest joy possible—His presence. To reject that is not to elevate love over glory—it is to flatten both.
McManus’s framing not only critiques Calvinism; it breaks with the broad consensus of historical Christian orthodoxy. If the historic Church was wrong about God’s glory, hell, and justice, then the burden of proof falls on the critic to show a more biblically faithful alternative—not just a more emotionally satisfying one.
The Problem with Calling God a Narcissist
The logic of McManus’s critique depends on a flawed analogy:
If God is a narcissist and we’re made in His image, then we’re all narcissists.
But this is a category error. Human narcissism is pathological—marked by insecurity, entitlement, and self-obsession. Divine self-glorification, by contrast, is the perfect expression of infinite beauty, goodness, and power.
As C. S. Lewis put it in Reflections on the Psalms:
It is in the process of being worshiped that God communicates His presence to men.
It is right for God to demand glory, not because He needs affirmation, but because He is the only being for whom self-exaltation is not idolatrous. Reason tells us that if God is the greatest conceivable being, He must be the supreme object of both His own and our affection.
McManus also appeals to emotional plausibility: that it’s too dark to believe most of humanity goes to hell. But emotion does not determine metaphysical reality. If Scripture and reason together affirm the justice of divine judgment, our discomfort should lead to humility, not revision.
Pain Is Real—But Not the Final Authority
To be fair, McManus’s objection may not be purely theological—it’s also personal. Many people who reject Calvinism aren’t reacting to exegetical arguments; they’re reacting to a portrait of God that feels abusive, cold, or indifferent to human suffering. That pain is real, and it deserves compassion.
But experience is not the final arbiter of truth. It must be interpreted through the lens of divine revelation. When the doctrines of grace are taught poorly, they can become fuel for despair. But when taught rightly, they foster awe, comfort, and humility. The God who ordains all things is also the God who took on flesh, bore our curse, and rose in victory.
Many saints (Jonathan Edwards, Charles Spurgeon, John Piper) have found these doctrines not terrifying but tender. Election is not fatalism; it’s assurance. Hell is not divine sadism; it’s the sobering reality of what it means to reject life Himself.
Conclusion: A Glorious, Loving, and Holy God
Erwin McManus is right to elevate divine love. But divine love without divine glory is sentimentalism. Divine glory without love is tyranny. The God of Scripture is neither.
At the heart of Christianity is a God who glorifies Himself by giving Himself. A God who created all things for His glory—and then entered creation to rescue rebels. A God who upholds justice and shows mercy. A God who reveals His beauty, not in self-centered distance, but in cruciform love.
Unfortunately, it’s easy for mystical “thinkers” like McManus, who prefer emphasizing experience and the questionable “God told me” moments over concrete instances, to come to such conclusions. We must never ignore that God exists on a plane and set of rules that is different than where we do. Our understanding of God should never originate from what we feel is fair, right, or sensical to the finite mind.
The God of Reformed theology is not a narcissist. He is the majestic, merciful, and mysterious Lord of glory, and He is worthy of our trust.