And I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who has enabled me, for that he counted me faithful, putting me into the ministry. Who was before a blasphemer… but I obtained mercy. 1 Timothy 1:12-13
What a privilege it is to be a believer! They are comparatively few, and we by nature were no nearer than others: it was grace, free grace, that made the difference. What an honor to be a minister of the everlasting gospel! These upon comparison are perhaps fewer still. How wonderful that one of these few should be sought for among the wilds of Africa, reclaimed from the lowest state of impiety and misery, and brought to assure other sinners, from his own experience, that ‘there is, there is forgiveness with him, that he may be feared.’
We are called to an honorable service, but it is arduous. What wisdom does it require to keep the middle path in doctrines, avoiding the equally dangerous errors on the right hand and the left! What steadiness, to speak the truth boldly and faithfully in the midst of a gainsaying world! What humility, to stand against the tide of popularity! What meekness, to endure all things for the elect’s sake, that they may be saved! ‘Who is sufficient for these things?’ We are not in ourselves, but there is an all-sufficiency in Jesus. Our enemy watches us close; He challenges and desires to have us, that he may sift us as wheat; he knows he can easily shake us if we are left to ourselves; But we have a Shepherd, a Keeper, who never slumbers nor sleeps… When we are prone to wander, he calls us back; When we say, my feet slip, his mercy holds us up; When we are wounded, he heals; when we are ready to faint, he revives. The people of God are sure to meet with enemies, but especially the ministers: Satan bears them a double grudge: the world watches for their halting, and the Lord will suffer them to be afflicted, that they may be kept humble, that they may acquire a sympathy with the suffering of others, that they may be experimentally qualified to advise and help them, and to comfort them with the comforts with which they themselves have been comforted of God.
Cardiphonia: Letters to Rev. Mr. William Bull, 1:590 (taken from Jewels from John Newton, Banner of Truth, 2016)

Tweet Share

When you look up at the starlit sky and ponder the vastness and beauty of the heavens above and the diversity and unity of the earth below, your thoughts are moved to the God who created such marvelous things. If the universe is so unfathomably expansive and so indescribably beautiful, what is the nature of the God who created it? What is God like, the one who exceeds the greatness and grandeur of the world we inhabit? When we begin to ask these questions, we quickly acknowledge that we are finite creatures contemplating the infinite God. Though we are finite creatures, the one true and infinite God has revealed himself to us in the world he has made and even more clearly in the word he has caused to be written. World and word together (natural and supernatural theology) teach the glory and majesty of our God.

Simplicity

God has revealed himself to his creatures as the God who is simple. At first glance, to say that God is simple sounds counterintuitive. The great and glorious God is simple? The Creator of the complexity of the cosmos is simple? Yes, because by the simplicity of God we mean that there is no composition in God. God is not made up of parts, or any form of composition whatsoever. God’s simplicity is fundamental to a true understanding of him.

We gather divine simplicity from Scripture, in three principal places. The first is God’s self-revelation of his most sacred name, “I am that I am” (Exodus 3:14). God reveals his name as the one who is. He is his own existence. God is being itself subsisting. The one who is, who is his own being, indeed who is pure being itself subsisting, cannot possibly be a composite being. Therefore, we say he is simple. God is pure simple being itself.

World and word together teach the glory and majesty of our God.

The second is Jesus’ statement that “God is spirit” (John 4:24). Angels are spirits, but they are created spirits. They are composed of the possibility to be, and God making them to be. God is spirit, but not like the angels. He is not a being that has been brought into being. God is pure simple being itself.

The third is Paul’s doxology, “For from him and through him and to him are all things” (Romans 11:36). For all things to be from, through, and to God, there can be nothing before God. But all things composed have a composer. All things with parts have been put together. If all things are from, through, and to God, he must be pure simple being itself, without any composition or cause preceding his being. God cannot be reduced to more fundamental parts. Because his is not composed, he cannot be decomposed. God is pure simple being itself.

If one were to respond that God’s being is “necessarily composite,” or that God is “necessary complexity,” but without a composer, not only is this a self-contradicting proposal when investigated, but also it would follow that there may be necessarily composite beings other than the one we know as God. Divine simplicity protects the uniqueness and singularity of God because he, and he alone, is pure being itself. The one who is, pure and simple being, gives existence to all things. From the infinite fullness of his perfect simple being, God has given them that most fundamental of compositions, to be brought from possibility of being into actual being and made “according to their kind.”

Analogy

God’s simplicity reminds us, once more, of the vast and inviolable distinction between the Creator and his creatures. We must confess that our words and thoughts of God fall short of reaching the height or finding the depth of his majesty.

Can you find out the deep things of God? Can you find out the limit of the Almighty? (Job 11:7)

Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high; I cannot attain it (Psalm 139:6).

How can we speak of such a sublime God? As we form our understanding and speech of God from both the world and the word, we must do so in a way that keeps the infinity of God and the finitude of creatures in place. We must think and speak of God in a way that is fitting with his infinite being as God, and to think and speak of creatures in a way that is fitting with their finite being as creatures. When we do this, we are using analogy or analogical speech. In this context, to use analogy, or analogical speech, is to attribute something to God according to his being, and the same thing to man (if at all fitting) according to his being.

So, for example, to speak analogically is to say, “God is good,” and, “John is good,” but to understand that because of divine simplicity God is the goodness by which he is good, whereas John is good only insofar as he reflects God’s goodness. The difference between goodness in God and John is not merely one of quantity (more or less), but of being itself. God’s goodness is his own simple being—essential, infinite, eternal, immutable, and perfect. John’s goodness is a quality, something extrinsic to himself in which he participates proportional to his being, capable of increase or decrease. To speak of goodness according to God’s being, and according to man’s being is to use analogy.

We must think and speak of God in a way that is fitting with his infinite being as God, and to think and speak of creatures in a way that is fitting with their finite being as creatures.

To give another example, consider the difference between fire, and being fired up, or between heat and being heated up. It is of the nature of fire to be hot. Other things can receive heat from fire, but when the source of heat is removed, they lose that heat. When I eat lunch, I sit under a pergola with a metal roof. The roof heats with the midday sun, creaking as its temperature rises, but when a cloud covers the sun the roof immediately begins to creak oppositely as it cools down. It is not of the nature of metal roofs to be hot, so it heats and cools insofar as it participates in the heat of the sun. We attribute heat to fire, or to the sun, in a way that fits the nature of the thing, and so also with metal roofs, or anything that is heated or fired. For one, it is the nature of the thing to be hot. For another, it only participates in heat, or becomes hot, as it is exposed to that which is heat.

This example may be illustrative, but it falls short because the sun, so scientists say, will eventually burn out, and fires can be extinguished. The sun can increase or decrease in a number of ways, as can fire, but God is all that he is infinitely, eternally, perfectly, and immutably, like a celestial flame that is an infinite fuel unto itself. Despite the shortcomings of the example, it illustrates the point that in all our thoughts of God, we must think analogically, that is, according to the being of the thing of which we are speaking. Though we speak of God in the language of men, we must do so in a way that acknowledges and preserves his being as God.

This applies to how we read the Bible. God condescends to speak to us in human language in the written word, and we must recognize this to be an accommodation to our capacities as creatures. We must read the Bible in a way that keeps God’s infinite being in mind. So, for example, the idea of “regret” or “repentance” is inconsistent with the perfection and immutability of God, and yet the Bible attributes these to God in various places. At the same time, the Bible denies that God regrets or repents.

God is not man, that he should lie, or a son of man, that he should change his mind (Numbers 23:19).

The Glory of Israel will not lie or have regret, for he is not a man, that he should have regret (1 Samuel 15:29).

What is the solution to these apparently opposite statements? It is analogy, which God himself teaches us when his word says, “God is not man.” This means that repentance must be attributed to God in some way that is fitting with his being as God. This we can do, by recognizing that the God who decreed all things immutably, whatsoever comes to pass, decreed to make Saul king, to permit his demise, and to remove and replace him with David. All of this was decreed by the unchanging eternal God, without remorse, regret, or a change of mind. However, from the human perspective it appears as a complete reversal of plan and action, which is precisely what repentance is.

Repentance is borrowed from human speech to communicate the providential reversal of events within God’s unfolding plan, and therefore when we attribute it to God we must remember that God is not a man. If we forget this, we will bring God down to the level of the human language he has used to communicate with us. The point to be grasped is that the world and word teach us of the greatness of God, and we must think and speak of him analogically, that is, in a way that is fitting with his being.

The One Who Is, the great I AM,

Exceeds the meager mind of man.

As creatures, all we say or know

Of God above comes from below,

Because the things that he has made

With his own likeness are inlaid.

Behind our thoughts, Beyond our reach,

God, in kindness, speaks our speech.

But he remains transcendent still.

He always has, and always will.

Is the Son of God inferior to God? The answer to this question, after the incarnation, is both “yes and no.” The Son of God is indeed inferior to God, according to His assumed human nature, but He is not inferior to God, according to His divine nature. To understand this answer, it is necessary to understand that the incarnate Son of God has two natures, a true divine nature and a true human nature, united in the one person of the Son of God. At the incarnation, the eternal Son of God took to Himself a true human nature. In theology, this union of Christ’s two natures in one person is called the “hypostatic union” which refers to a “personal union” of true God and true man.

The Hypostatic Union

Consider the hypostatic union in a bit more detail. The term “hypostatic” is from a Greek word, hupostasis, or person, and refers to the manner in which a rational nature subsists. The term “person,” according to Boethius, refers to “an individual substance of a rational nature.”[1] Others have defined it as “subsistence endowed with reason.”[2] “In general, ‘person,’ is defined as a substance, or individual nature, endowed with intelligence, subsisting by itself, really and truly distinguished from others by its own incommunicable property.”[3]

To understand the hypostatic union, it is necessary to reflect on the terms “nature” and “person.” The difference between a rational nature and a person is that a person refers to the particular way in which a rational nature acts. Rational natures do not act. Only persons act. Or to put it differently, rational natures subsist as particular persons, which act distinctively within and by those natures. 

Consider three examples of rational natures that subsist as persons: God, angels, and human beings. God’s being is rational, and His nature exists in three ways, persons, or subsistences: the Father is neither begotten nor proceeding, the Son is eternally begotten from the Father, and the Spirit is eternally proceeding from the Father and the Son. Angels also have a rational nature, and each individual angel subsists as a particular person, or way of being and acting as an angel. Each human being also has a rational nature, and each individual human being exists as a particular person, or way of acting as a human.

This brings us to the Lord Jesus Christ. At the incarnation, the eternal person of the Son of God assumed a human nature. The eternal Son of God is nothing other than the very being of God subsisting personally, and thus at the incarnation, the whole divine essence, subsisting in the manner of the Son, joined Himself to a human nature. The Bible speaks of the incarnation of the Son of God in various ways. It says “the Word became flesh” (Jn 1:14), “came in the flesh” (1 Jn 4:2-3), “took the form of a servant” (Phil 2:7), was made a “partaker of flesh and blood” (Heb 2:14), and was “manifested in the flesh” (1 Tim 3:16).

The Son of God is indeed inferior to God, according to His assumed human nature, but He is not inferior to God, according to His divine nature.

But how are the divine and human natures united in Christ? What sort of union is it? It is not an essential union, in which the two essences are blended together. It is not a covenantal union, such that the two natures simply agree together. It is not a natural union as in the union of the human body and the soul. It is not an external union, like the union of God with the angel of the Lord, or of angels to their bodily manifestations.  Rather it is a true personal union.

But what is meant by personal union? The great Reformed theologian, Francis Turretin helpfully describes the personal union of Christ’s two natures. He said that God the Son (the divine nature subsisting) assumed to Himself a human nature, which does not subsist in the manner of a human person. It is crucial to grasp that the human nature of Christ is not a human person and has no personal subsistence of its own. If the human nature subsisted, it would be a human person, not a divine person. If it is claimed that the human nature subsisted as the Son of God, then the human nature would subsist as God, which is impossible because the finite cannot grasp or contain the infinite. Rather, Christ’s human nature, a true body and a reasonable soul, which did not subsist personally, was assumed into the person of the Word, or the Son, and was so joined to Him that the human nature became “substantial with the Logos.”[4]

Turretin goes on to explain the way this personal union happens. He says that the union of the two natures is by a “personal sustenation,” activity, or operation, of the Son of God within and by the human nature, such that Christ’s human nature really is one of the two natures of the Son of God.[5] Put differently, the action of God the Son within, throughout, and by His rational human nature is nothing other than the very person of God the Son, according to His human nature. Herman Bavinck, quoting Thomas, writes, “The human nature in Christ must be considered as though it were a kind of organ of the divine nature.”[6] The Triune God so acts upon a human nature that the resulting action, or personal operation, within, throughout, and by that nature is that of the Son of God.

The Incarnate Son

The hypostatic union means that after the incarnation and for all eternity afterwards, the eternal Son of God really has two natures, a divine nature and a human nature, acting according to both natures at the same time. It means that when Mary conceived Jesus by the power of the Holy Spirit, she really carried God the Son in her womb. In Luke 1:31-32, the angel Gabriel said to Mary, “And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High.” Therefore, Mary is rightly called “Theotokos,” the God-bearer.

The incarnation further means that when Christ died on the cross for our sins, the Son of God Himself really died for our sins, according to His human nature. The divine nature cannot die. But God the Son can die, according to His human nature by virtue of the hypostatic union. 1 Corinthians 15:3 says, “Christ died for our sins.” Without the hypostatic union, all we would be able to say is that a human nature died for us. But a human nature in itself cannot possibly atone for our sins. We must be able to say that the eternal Son of God Himself died for our sins, according to His human nature, and He did so by virtue of the hypostatic union.

But while it is true that the Son of God truly assumed a human nature into His person, it is also true that He continued to be God, and to act according to His divine nature. Thus, while the Son of God came down from heaven, and was born of a virgin, He did so in such a way that He never left heaven (Jn 3:13). The Son, according to His divine nature, remained in heaven and fully present in every place, even when He became flesh and dwelt among us. Similarly, though the Son of God ascended into heaven, He did so in such a way that He never left earth  (Matt 28:20). Though the Son of God, according to His human nature, went back into heaven, His divine nature is present with us forever.

The Son as Not Inferior to God

The Bible speaks in ways that must be understood in terms of what has been called “partitive exegesis.” The Second London Confession 8.7 says, “Christ, in the work of mediation, acts according to both natures, by each nature doing that which is proper to itself; yet by reason of the unity of the person, that which is proper to one nature is sometimes in Scripture, attributed to the person denominated by the other nature.” Thus, sometimes, the Bible speaks of Christ and His actions in terms of His divine nature, and sometimes it speaks of Christ and His actions according to His human nature. Other times, it speaks of the human nature in terms of the divine nature and the divine nature in terms of the human nature (Jn 3:3; Acts 20:28). This is appropriate because of the real personal union of the two natures.

We must be able to say that the eternal Son of God Himself died for our sins, according to His human nature, and He did so by virtue of the hypostatic union.

Many passages of Scripture teach that Christ, the Son of God, is not inferior to God, but is in fact God Himself. Scripture says, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” (Jn 1:1); He declares, “I and the Father are one” (Jn 10:30), which does not mean that they are the same person, but that they share the same essence. Hebrews 1:8 says, “of the Son he says, Your throne, O God, is forever and ever;” and after the resurrection, “Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!” (Jn 10:28); (Heb 1:8); He is declared to be the “King of kings and Lord of lords” (Rev 19:16). The Bible teaches that Christ created everything: “All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made” (Jn 1:3); He is present everywhere: “where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them” (Matt 18:20); He is all powerful: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me” (Matt 28:18). He does not change: “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever” (Heb 13:8); He forgives sin: “Your sins are forgiven” (Lk 7:48).

None of these attributes belong to the Son’s human nature, but only to the Son, according to His divine nature. Therefore, the Son of God, according to his divine nature is equal to God. But that is not the whole story.

The Son as Inferior to God

The Bible teaches that the Son of God, according to His human nature, is in fact inferior to God. And that must be the case, since how could the Son of God identify with us, substitute for us, or represent us, unless He assumes a human nature, which is inferior to God? The ancient creeds recognize this fact. The Athanasian Creed declares that the incarnate Son is “Perfect God; and perfect Man, of a reasonable soul and human flesh subsisting. Equal to the Father, as touching his Godhead; and inferior to the Father as touching his Manhood. Who although he is God and Man; yet he is not two, but one Christ” (emphasis added). Therefore, the incarnate Son stands in a twofold natural relation to God the Father. With respect to His divine nature, He is equal to the Father, but with respect to His human nature, He is inferior to the Father.

The Bible plainly teaches that the Son, according to His human nature, is inferior to God. He changed and grew: “Jesus increased in wisdom and in stature and in favor with God and man” (Lk 2:52); He experienced hunger: “He was hungry” (Matt 4:2); He experienced thirst: “I thirst” (Jn 19:28); He became tired: “Jesus wearied” (Jn 4:6); He was tempted: “He Himself suffered when tempted” (Heb 2:18); He was weak: “He was crucified in weakness” (2 Cor 13:4); He died: “He breathed His last” (Lk 23:46). None of these things can be true of the divine nature. They can only be true of Christ’s human nature, which is inferior to the divine.

One text that shows the inferiority of the Son of God, according to His human nature is 2 Corinthians 8:9, which says, “For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich.” The Son of God, prior to the incarnation, was rich only, but at the incarnation, He became poor, according to His human nature. Yet it is important for us to understand that He only became poor (according to His human nature) in such a way that He remained rich (according to His divine nature). The only way we can become rich through Christ’s poverty is if He also remains rich! Thus, the Son of God, according to His human nature is inferior to God the Father, but He is equal to God the Father, according to His divine nature.

Summary and Conclusion

To summarize, Jesus Christ is true God and true man, united in the one person of the eternal Son of God. Therefore, He is equal to God the Father, according to His divine nature, but inferior to God the Father, according to His human nature. This means that the incarnate Son of God is simultaneously weak and all powerful, ignorant and all knowing, located in space and fully present everywhere, dependent and independent, creature and Creator, limited and infinite, temporal and timelessly eternal, changing and unchangeable, subject and sovereign, visible and invisible, and so forth.

This is absolutely necessary for our salvation. If Christ were less than God, He could not save us. If He were more than man, He could not be our substitute. JC Ryle puts it well:

I find a deep mine of comfort in this thought, that Jesus is perfect Man no less than perfect God. He in whom I am told by Scripture to trust is not only a great High Priest, but a feeling High Priest. He is not only a powerful Savior, but a sympathizing Savior. He is not only the Son of God, mighty to save, but the Son of Man, able to feel….

Had my Savior been God only, I might perhaps have trusted Him, but I never could have come near to Him without fear. Had my Savior been Man only, I might have loved Him, but I never could  have felt sure that he was able to take away my sins. But, blessed be God, my Savior is God as well as Man, Man as well as God – God, and so able to deliver me – Man, and so able to feel with me.[7]

[1]    Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica I, q. 29, a. 1.

[2]    William Den Boer and Reimer A. Faber, eds., Synopsis of a Purer Theology, vol. 1 (Davenant: China, 2023), 70.

[3]    Ibid., 71.

[4]    Francis Turretin, Institutes of Elenctic Theology, vol. 2 (Phillipsburg: P&R, 1994), 312.

[5]    Ibid.

[6]    Herman Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, vol. 3 (Baker: Grand Rapids, 2006), 307; Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica 3, q. 4, a. 2, ad. 2.

[7]    JC Ryle, Holiness (Charles Nolan: Moscow, 2001), 238-239.