“God is really complex!” This refrain commonly crosses the lips of many as they begin to contemplate the supremacy of the one who is without beginning, without dependence, without comprehension, without equal. Add to that the reality that he is Triune, the three Persons subsisting in a single divine nature, and we have only multiplied the times the exclamation, “God is really complex!” comes bursting forth. But is it true? Is God complex?
In various previous articles, we have considered how we interpret Scripture theologically and how such interpretation governs our language. We noted that Scripture involves the use of analogical language to teach us about the uncreated God using the language we know, that is, language that has reference to creatures. In the midst of those articles we briefly noted the doctrine of divine simplicity. Today we will consider the doctrine of simplicity a little more, and in two weeks we will put forward what this means for how we talk about the divine attributes.
Before we put forward a positive articulation of simplicity, let’s consider its denial by some. In the age following the Reformation—generally known as Reformed Scholasticism—some groups, particularly the Socinians, denied simplicity. More recently, however, simplicity has been denied by Reformed and evangelical theologians. For a recent critique and critical engagement with opponents or modifiers of the doctrine of simplicity, one might read James Dolezal’s short book, All that is in God. In it, he points out such prominent thinkers as Bruce Ware, John Frame, Ronald Nash, Alvin Plantinga, John Feineberg, Kevin Vanhoozer, and even some older theologians like Charles Hodge and R. L. Dabney. With such influential theologians set before our eyes, Dolezal demonstrates the fact that what was once assumed as axiomatic in theology has now become the exact opposite. The plausibility structures of Christian theology have so shifted that to say “God is simple” is met with a gut-level resistance by Christians.
But he is.
Simplicity is the antonym of complex. For something to be complex is for it to be made up of many parts. We apply the label to complexity to everything from bodies—with their irreducible complexity—to arguments. Thus, when we make a theological argument, even an argument about God, we are speaking in complexities. However we do not say that God is complex. In fact, our Confession expressly denies that God has parts (2.1). Not only is simplicity an antonym of complex, it also stands opposite composition. Considering both bodies and arguments, we know that complex things are composed things, things put together. In saying that God is simple, we mean that God is not a bunch of parts put together.
As has often been the case on our site, van Mastricht serves as a guide here. He begins his treatment of simplicity with rational arguments and clarifying denials. God must be simple because he is 1) the first being, 2) independent, 3) immutable, 4) infinite, 5) eternal, 6) perfect, and 7) light (from the English translation, 2.144). Just taking a look at that list, we can begin to see the logic of simplicity. Since God is the first being, we cannot say he has ever been composed of anything, which would require change from either non-being to being or from lesser-being to greater-being. It would also require a composer greater than himself. Not only that, even if we were to say he was composed of his attributes, we would be forced to say that his attributes pre-exist him, at least logically. Van Mastricht’s clarifying denials are that God is without composition 1) of quantitative parts (like a body), 2) essential parts (also only in bodies), 3) substance and accidents, 4) essence and existence, and 5) genus and difference. While the first two denials may be easier to note, the latter three might take a little more work. An accident is something that could be taken away from a thing and the things still be what it is. My hair could be a different color and I would still be myself. The denial of accidents is a denial that God has something superfluous. God does not have something that’s less than himself. The denial of the distinction between essence and existence and genus and difference are ways of denying that he partakes in some larger category of “Godness.” God just is.
Clearly the things above come from biblical truth, but van Mastricht also provides a section of scriptural proofs. God is Spirit, which means immaterial, and thus simple. He responds to the objection that first comes to mind: angels and our souls are spirits too. However, says van Mastricht, “The angels and our souls are spirits only by analogy, in a diminished sense, because they, of all creatures, most closely approximate the spirituality of God” (2.147). After moving through texts demonstrating that God is the first being and immutable, he adds that Scripture also teaches God is incorruptible. For God to either improve or corrode would require that he was a composite being, but since he is incorruptible, neither can he cannot be composite. After this, he points to Scripture’s testimony of God’s infinitude and perfection.
On the last point he makes the statement that was also axiomatic for previous thinkers, a statement that we may have a hard time immediately recognizing. He says, “A being that is simple as well as most simple, is more perfect than a composite, and what has been composed consists in imperfect parts” (2.147–48). We tend to think that the more complex something is, the more perfect it is. The complexities of modern vehicles and computers certainly factor into what makes them better than their earlier counterparts. However, consider the fact that a composite being, whatever it is, depends on its parts. A part that fails immediately incapacitates the item without it. A broken arm impairs the whole body. Similarly, though, an arm without a body is imperfect and incomplete also. A part that does not contribute to composition and a complex being that is missing a part both demonstrate the inherent inferiority of complexity, even if it does immediately feel counterintuitive.
In saying God is simple, we mean he is the fullness of perfection, without composition, with dependence on anything for his existence. As Gill says, “it is certain God is not composed of parts, in any sense; not in a physical sense, of essential parts, as matter and form, of which bodies consist: nor of integral parts, as soul and body, of which men consist: nor in a metaphysical sense, as of essence and existence, of act and power: nor in a logical sense, as of kind and difference, substance and accident; all which would argue imperfection, weakness, and mutability” (Body of Divinity, 1.4). In this, we follow the great tradition of theologians stretching from the church fathers through the Reformers to their heirs.