MANNAFEST

What we believe · 2 of 10

God

What is God like?

Every other question on this site is downstream of this one. What you think God is like decides what you think sin is, what the cross was for, what prayer is doing, and what you expect at the end.

The Bible never argues that God exists. It opens with him already there, already working, and spends the next thousand pages telling you what he is like — mostly by telling you what he did. That is the biblical method: you learn God's character from his acts and from the names he gives himself, not from a definition.

So this page follows that method. It starts with what God has said about himself, and it does not pretend that the hardest parts are easy. Two of the questions below — how a sovereign God relates to free creatures, and whether God can be said to suffer — have divided serious, godly, careful Christians for centuries. MannaFest has an answer to each. It also has real respect for the people on the other side, several of whom this site quotes constantly.

Theologians call this subject theology proper — a word you never need, and will now recognize when you meet it.

What we hold

There is one God, who exists as three persons.

Israel's confession is that the LORD our God, the LORD is one. Jesus quotes it as the first commandment and never modifies it. Whatever else Christians say about God, they say this first: there is one God, not three.

And then the same Jesus tells his disciples to baptize into the name — singular — of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. One name, three persons. Paul blesses the Corinthians with the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit, and thinks nothing of it.

The word 'Trinity' is not in the Bible. Neither is 'monotheism.' The doctrine is not an addition to Scripture; it is what you get when you refuse to let go of any of the things Scripture says: the Father is God, the Son is God, the Spirit is God, they speak to one another and love one another and are not each other — and there is one God.

The persons are distinct; the essence is one. Not three gods, and not one God wearing three masks. The Athanasian Creed's phrase is the guardrail: 'neither confounding the persons, nor dividing the substance.'

God simply is — he did not come from anywhere.

Moses asks for a name and gets a sentence: I AM WHO I AM. Every other thing that exists is contingent — it was caused, it depends, it could have not been. God is the one being who is not like that. He is not the oldest item in the universe; he is the reason there is a universe.

This is what theologians mean by aseity, a jargon word for a simple idea: God is from himself. He needs nothing. Paul told the Athenians that God is not served by human hands as though he needed anything, since he himself gives life and breath to everything.

It follows that God does not change into something better or worse, does not run down, and does not get surprised into becoming a different kind of being. And it follows that when God commits himself to you, nothing outside God can wear that commitment out.

God is holy.

Holiness is the one attribute Scripture repeats three times over in a single breath. The seraphim do not cry 'love, love, love' or 'eternal, eternal, eternal.' They cry holy.

The word means set apart, other, in a category by himself. It is not primarily a moral rating — though God's moral purity flows from it. It is the reason everyone in Scripture who actually sees God ends up on the floor. Isaiah, a good man and a prophet, says 'woe is me, I am undone.' Peter, in a boat full of fish, says 'depart from me, I am a sinful man.' John, on Patmos, falls as though dead.

Any picture of God that would not put you on the floor is a picture of something smaller than God.

God is love.

John does not say God is loving, as if love were one item on a list. He says God is love — it is what God is, all the way down.

This is one of the places the Trinity stops being an abstraction. A God who is love and who is only one person would have needed a creation to love; love would be something God started doing. But the Father loved the Son before the foundation of the world. God has been giving himself away, inside himself, forever. Creation was overflow, not need.

And John's proof of love is not a feeling but an event: this is love, that he sent his Son. Biblical love is measured by what it cost the lover.

God is sovereign — he reigns, and his purposes do not fail.

The LORD reigns. Not will reign, not is trying to reign. He does what he pleases in the heavens and on the earth; he declares the end from the beginning; his counsel stands.

MannaFest holds this without any softening, and the next section says why we do not think it cancels human freedom. But before the argument, the affirmation: history is going somewhere because Someone is taking it there. The book of Revelation is not a warning that things might spiral out of control. It is a report that they will not.

Sovereignty is why Joseph could tell his brothers that what they meant for evil, God meant for good. Their guilt was real. God's purpose ran straight through it.

His names tell you who he is.

In the ancient world a name was not a label, it was a disclosure. God's names are compressed theology, and each one was given at a moment when someone needed exactly that thing.

YHWH — the personal covenant name, from the I AM of the burning bush, the name so revered that Jewish readers say Adonai instead and English Bibles print LORD in capitals. This is God as he is in himself and as he binds himself to a people.

Elohim — God as the powerful Maker, the name of Genesis 1, plural in form and singular in force.

El Shaddai — God Almighty, the name given to Abram when the promise was humanly finished and a ninety-nine-year-old man needed a God who is enough.

Adonai — Lord, Master, the one to whom I actually answer.

And the compound names given at moments of rescue: the LORD will provide, the LORD who heals, the LORD my banner, the LORD is peace, the LORD my shepherd, the LORD is there.

God is everywhere — and he is particularly present with his people.

There is nowhere to go where God is not. David runs the thought experiment and gives up: ascend to heaven, make a bed in the depths, take the wings of the morning — you are there. Jeremiah's God fills heaven and earth. Solomon, dedicating the temple, admits that heaven cannot contain him, let alone this building.

But Scripture also speaks constantly of God being present in a particular place in a particular way — filling the tabernacle, meeting between the cherubim, dwelling in the temple, and now dwelling in the church and in the believer by the Spirit.

Both are true, and holding both is essential. Omnipresence means God is never absent from you. Particular presence means there is such a thing as drawing near, and such a thing as God manifesting himself, and it is worth everything to seek it. 'Draw near to God and he will draw near to you' would be meaningless if only the first were true.

Where Christians divide

On each of these, MannaFest’s own answer comes first and is not hedged. Then every serious alternative is set out the way the people who hold it would set it out. If you hold one of these and think it is put unfairly here, that is a failure on our part — tell us.

If God is in control, are our choices really ours?

What MannaFest holds

Yes — both are true, and MannaFest holds them together in the Wesleyan-Arminian way. God is completely sovereign, and part of what his sovereignty has established is genuine creaturely freedom. He did not lose control by making creatures who can say no; he decided to make them. Grace comes first and always — no one seeks God on their own — but that grace can be resisted, and God's knowing what you will choose is not the same as his making you choose it.

God says plainly what he wants: he desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth; he is not willing that any should perish; he takes no pleasure in the death of the wicked. MannaFest reads those statements as meaning what they say.

Scripture is full of God grieving over refusals. Jerusalem, Jerusalem — how often I wanted to gather your children, and you were not willing. You always resist the Holy Spirit. They rejected the purpose of God for themselves. If every refusal were itself decreed, these texts describe God grieving at his own decision.

Prevenient grace is the hinge, and it is why this is not a doctrine of human self-improvement. Fallen people cannot come to God on their own — dead is dead. But Christ, lifted up, draws all people; the grace of God has appeared bringing salvation to all; the Spirit convicts the world. God takes the first step toward everyone, and that step restores enough freedom to say yes or no. The credit for the yes is entirely God's; the responsibility for the no is entirely ours.

Foreknowledge is not causation. A weather forecaster who correctly predicts a storm did not cause the storm; a mother who knows exactly what her son will do at the sight of a cookie did not make him do it. God's knowledge is infinitely greater than either, and infallible — but knowing is not the same act as decreeing.

Security is conditional, and Scripture speaks that way: continue in his kindness, otherwise you will be cut off. Branches are broken off for unbelief. This is not a doctrine of anxiety — it is the seriousness of a real relationship, which can be abandoned precisely because it is real.

Reformed — God chooses, and his choosing is what saves

Augustine in his later anti-Pelagian writings; John Calvin (Institutes III.21-24); the Synod of Dort (1618-19); the Westminster Confession, chapter III; John Owen; Jonathan Edwards (Freedom of the Will); Charles Spurgeon; in our own time R. C. Sproul (Chosen by God) and John Piper (The Justification of God).

Fallen humanity is not merely weakened but spiritually dead and unable to choose God. Therefore God, before the foundation of the world and on the basis of nothing in the creature, chose a people; Christ died to secure their salvation; and the Spirit brings them, infallibly and willingly, to faith. Grace that can finally be refused is grace that does not save anyone; salvation is God's work from first to last, and the elect persevere because God preserves them.

  • Romans 9 is written as if to head off exactly the Arminian reading. The twins had done nothing good or bad, so that God's purpose of election might stand — not because of works but because of him who calls. He has mercy on whom he wills and hardens whom he wills. Paul then raises the objection any reader would raise — 'why does he still find fault?' — and answers not by softening the doctrine but by rebuking the questioner. That is a hard fact for our side.
  • Ephesians 1 says he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, predestined according to the purpose of his will, working all things according to the counsel of his will. The stress falls relentlessly on God's will, not the creature's.
  • The chain in Romans 8 has no leakage: those he foreknew he predestined, those he predestined he called, those he called he justified, those he justified he glorified. The same group makes it all the way through.
  • Jesus says no one can come to me unless the Father draws him, and all that the Father gives me will come to me. Not may come. Will.
  • Dead men do not cooperate. Ephesians 2 says we were dead in trespasses — and being made alive is something done to a corpse, not agreed to by one.
  • It has the deepest pastoral logic of all the options: if my salvation finally rests on my grip on God, I am in serious trouble. If it rests on his grip on me, I am safe.

The honest difficulty: The other side of unconditional election is that God passes by the rest, and the tenderest Reformed writers have never made that comfortable. It requires reading 'God desires all to be saved' and 'not willing that any should perish' in restricted senses, and it must explain how the universal offer of the gospel is sincere if the ability to accept it is withheld. Calvin himself called reprobation a dreadful decree.

Molinism — God knows what free creatures would do

Luis de Molina (Concordia, 1588); Francisco Suárez; today William Lane Craig and Kenneth Keathley (Salvation and Sovereignty).

Between God's knowledge of everything possible and his knowledge of everything actual stands 'middle knowledge': God knows what any free creature would freely do in any circumstance. He then chooses which world to actualize. So God ordains all of history in full detail, and every human choice in it is genuinely free.

  • It claims both halves without softening either — full meticulous providence and full libertarian freedom — which is what most Christians actually believe when they pray.
  • There is biblical footing for the required kind of knowledge: God tells David what the men of Keilah would do if he stayed, and David leaves, so they never do it. Jesus says Tyre and Sidon would have repented if they had seen these works.
  • It gives an elegant account of prophecy and of God's providence over free evil acts without making God the author of them.

The honest difficulty: The unsolved question is where these truths come from. If it is true that a particular person would freely accept in a particular circumstance, what makes it true — before God creates anyone? Both Reformed and Arminian critics press this 'grounding objection,' and Molinists concede it is the hard spot.

Open theism — the future is partly open even to God

Clark Pinnock, Richard Rice, John Sanders, William Hasker, and Gregory Boyd (God of the Possible).

God knows everything that can be known, but future free choices are not yet anything to be known. God is a real partner in an unfolding story: he takes risks, responds, changes his stated plans, and genuinely grieves.

  • It reads the narrative texts at face value, and there are more of them than people expect. God says 'now I know that you fear me.' He relents from disaster at Nineveh. He tells Jeremiah that if a nation turns, he will relent. He expresses that Israel did something 'which I did not command, nor did it come into my mind.'
  • It takes prayer and intercession with total seriousness — Moses argues God out of a stated intention, and the text presents that as real.
  • It offers the cleanest answer on evil: God did not plan the atrocity, and did not want it, in any sense.

The honest difficulty: MannaFest declines it, and the reason is decisive for a site that takes prophecy seriously. God stakes his uniqueness on exactly this: I declare the end from the beginning, and things not yet done. He names Cyrus a century and a half before Cyrus is born. Daniel's sequence of empires, the timing in Daniel 9, the details of the crucifixion in Psalm 22 and Isaiah 53 — all of this requires knowing free human choices in advance. The narrative texts open theism leans on are better read as covenant language, God's stated intentions being genuinely conditional on response, which is a category Jeremiah 18 supplies explicitly. Arminianism does not need open theism, and classical Arminians from Arminius onward have affirmed exhaustive foreknowledge.

Does God feel pain?

What MannaFest holds

God is not at the mercy of his creatures' moods, and he does not have emotional weather. But MannaFest does not read the Bible's language of divine grief, jealousy, and compassion as mere figures of speech either. God genuinely loves, genuinely grieves over sin, and — at the cross — God the Son genuinely suffered, in the flesh he had taken for exactly that purpose.

The Spirit can be grieved. God's heart was grieved before the flood. He was afflicted in all Israel's affliction. Hosea's God says 'my heart recoils within me; my compassion grows warm and tender.' These are not throwaway lines; they are the emotional center of whole prophetic books.

At the same time, God is not a bigger version of us. He does not get worn down, provoked past control, or destabilized. His love is not a reaction; it is his nature, and it is undefeatable precisely because nothing outside him supplies it.

The incarnation resolves the tension rather than creating it. In Christ, God has a human nature with real tear ducts. Jesus wept at a grave. Whatever else 'God cannot suffer' means, it cannot mean that God has kept himself at a safe distance from suffering — he entered it.

The classical answer — God is not acted upon from outside

Augustine; Anselm (Proslogion); Thomas Aquinas (Summa Theologiae Ia); the historic confessions, which describe God as 'without body, parts, or passions.'

God has no passions in the sense of being passively moved, altered, or diminished by anything outside himself. His love and mercy are perfect acts of his will, not moods that come over him. The Bible's emotional language describes God truly, in terms we can understand, without implying that God is changeable.

  • It protects God's freedom and constancy. A God whose inner life rises and falls with the news is a God who can be manipulated, and whose promises are only as stable as his current state.
  • Anselm's formulation is more pastoral than its reputation: 'Thou art compassionate in terms of our experience, and not compassionate in terms of thy being.' We really do experience mercy; God really does act mercifully; what is denied is that God is unsettled.
  • Scripture warns explicitly against imagining that God is like us: 'you thought that I was one like yourself.'
  • It has near-unanimous support across the first fifteen centuries of the church, East and West.

The honest difficulty: Pressed hard, it can make the prophetic literature sound like an elaborate accommodation, and readers rightly ask why God would describe himself in such extravagant emotional terms if none of it corresponds to anything real. The technical vocabulary of the tradition also does a poor job of distinguishing 'not destabilized' from 'not affected at all,' and much of the modern reaction is a reaction to the latter.

The suffering God — the modern revision

Jürgen Moltmann (The Crucified God, 1972); Kazoh Kitamori (Theology of the Pain of God, 1946); Eberhard Jüngel; the wartime line of Dietrich Bonhoeffer from prison, that only a suffering God can help.

God is not insulated from his creation's suffering. At the cross, God himself — Father in bereavement, Son in death — entered human agony, and that is where his love is most fully revealed. Impassibility was borrowed from Greek philosophy, not learned from Scripture.

  • It reads the passion narratives as revealing God rather than merely revealing a man. If the cross shows us what God is like, and the cross is agony, then something about God is disclosed there that impassibility struggles to name.
  • It came out of the twentieth century's atrocities, and it answers the question that century forced: where was God? The reply — in it — has genuine pastoral power, and Kitamori wrote it from a bombed Japan, Moltmann from a prisoner-of-war camp.
  • The prophetic texts are on its side at face value, and Abraham Heschel's work on the pathos of God in the Hebrew prophets showed how central that theme is to the Old Testament rather than peripheral.

The honest difficulty: It risks making suffering something intrinsic to God rather than something God defeats — and a God who is essentially in pain has trouble being the one who wipes away every tear. It also comes close to saying the divine nature itself died, which the church rejected in the sixth-century debates over the 'one of the Trinity suffered' formula, admitting it only in the careful sense that the Son who suffered in his humanity is one of the Trinity.

Who are the other 'gods' the Bible keeps mentioning?

What MannaFest holds

Real created spirit beings — not rival deities, and not merely human judges. MannaFest reads Psalm 82 and Deuteronomy 32 the way they read: God presides over a council of spiritual beings he made and put to work, some of whom rebelled, were given the nations, judged corruptly, and stand under sentence of death like men. There is one God by nature. There is a populated unseen realm under him.

Psalm 82 opens with God taking his stand in the divine assembly and giving judgment among the elohim. He indicts them for judging unjustly and showing partiality to the wicked — and then sentences them: 'you shall die like men, and fall like one of the princes.' A sentence of mortality only makes sense passed on beings who are not naturally mortal.

Deuteronomy 32:8-9 says that when the Most High divided the nations, he fixed their boundaries according to the number of the sons of God — and that the LORD's own portion is Jacob. The Dead Sea Scrolls read 'sons of God' and the Greek Septuagint reads 'angels of God'; the traditional Hebrew text reads 'sons of Israel,' which makes little sense at Babel, where Israel did not yet exist. This is a case where the older manuscript evidence clarifies rather than confuses.

The picture recurs everywhere once you see it. Micaiah sees the LORD on his throne with the host of heaven standing beside him and asks who will go. The sons of God present themselves before the LORD in Job. Daniel is delayed by the prince of Persia and helped by Michael, 'your prince.' Paul says our wrestling is against rulers and authorities in heavenly places.

This is not polytheism, and Scripture says so in the same breath. Those beings are made; the LORD made the heavens. There is no God besides him; before him none was formed and none shall be. The council is a court, not a pantheon — the difference between a king with a cabinet and a king with rivals.

MannaFest holds the Watchers reading of Genesis 6, and this is the frame it belongs in. The rebellion in Genesis 6, the division of the nations at Babel, and the New Testament's language about imprisoned spirits are one storyline, not three curiosities.

The elohim are human judges

The traditional reading in much of Jewish interpretation and in the Reformers — John Calvin's commentary on Psalm 82 takes it this way, as do Matthew Henry and much of the Puritan tradition.

Psalm 82 is God rebuking Israel's magistrates, who bore his authority in judgment and abused it. 'You are gods' is an honorific for those who hold judicial office in God's name, and 'you shall die like men' is the point: for all their office, they are only men.

  • The charges fit human courts exactly — defend the weak and fatherless, rescue the poor from the hand of the wicked. That is a magistrate's job description.
  • Jesus quotes the verse in John 10 in an argument about people to whom the word of God came, which reads most naturally as human recipients of revelation.
  • Exodus uses elohim for human judges in the law of the household servant and the case of the borrowed ox, so the usage is attested.
  • It keeps the psalm firmly monotheistic without requiring any account of a spirit world, which is a real virtue if you think that world is where interpretation tends to go wrong.

The honest difficulty: It has to explain why corrupt human judges are told they will 'die like men' — which is not a threat to men — and why the psalm ends by asking God to arise and inherit all the nations, which is the Deuteronomy 32 allotment showing up again. The Exodus passages usually cited for 'judges' are themselves disputed and may point to the sanctuary and God's own presence.

The council is real but strictly angelic and non-authoritative

Mainstream conservative commentators who accept a heavenly host but resist the 'divine council' framing — much of standard evangelical commentary on Job 1 and 1 Kings 22.

God has angels, some of whom fell; the throne-room scenes are court imagery in which angels serve and report. But the language of 'gods' is polemical or poetic, and no created being was ever given genuine authority over nations.

  • It grants everything the texts require about a heavenly host without importing a structure the Bible never labels.
  • It is properly cautious. The divine council reading has been made to carry a lot of speculative weight in popular teaching, and caution about an unseen realm we cannot check is a virtue, not cowardice.

The honest difficulty: It has trouble with Daniel 10, where a 'prince of Persia' and a 'prince of Greece' resist a heavenly messenger for three weeks and Michael is called Israel's prince — territorial authority is exactly what is being described. It also leaves the Deuteronomy 32 allotment doing nothing.

Go further

Sources: The Nicene Creed (325, revised 381) and the Athanasian Creed — public domain. · Athanasius, On the Incarnation and the Orations Against the Arians (public domain). · Augustine, On the Trinity (public domain). · Anselm, Proslogion, chapters 8-11 (public domain) — the classical statement on divine compassion. · John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, I.13 (the Trinity) and III.21-24 (election), public domain — quoted at full strength for the Reformed position. · The Canons of the Synod of Dort (1619) and the Westminster Confession, chapter III — public domain. · Jacobus Arminius, Declaration of Sentiments (1608), public domain — the Arminian position in its author's own words. · John Wesley, Sermon 128 'Free Grace' and Sermon 58 'On Predestination' (public domain). · Charles Spurgeon, sermons — quoted gladly on this site, and a convinced Calvinist, which is worth saying out loud. · Matthew Henry, Commentary on the Whole Bible (public domain) — on Psalm 82 and Deuteronomy 32. · Jonathan Edwards, Freedom of the Will (public domain). · R. C. Sproul, Chosen by God, and John Piper, The Justification of God — cited, for the Reformed case on Romans 9. · William Lane Craig and Kenneth Keathley, Salvation and Sovereignty — cited, for Molinism. · Gregory Boyd, God of the Possible, and John Sanders, The God Who Risks — cited, for open theism in its own terms. · Jürgen Moltmann, The Crucified God, and Kazoh Kitamori, Theology of the Pain of God — cited, for the suffering-God position. · Michael Heiser, The Unseen Realm — cited, for the divine council reading. · Abraham Heschel, The Prophets — cited, on the pathos of God. Every cited work — the sources registry →