Chapter 3: The Names of God
called proofs are not what create faith—and objections to them do not destroy it.
Even though we cannot explain everything, that does not mean we abandon what we know to be true. Just as we trust the laws of logic and morality, even when we don't fully grasp them, we trust the witness of God in the world. For Christians, these arguments are not merely intellectual exercises. They are reflections of the one true God
—Creator and Redeemer—who speaks through both nature and grace.
Together, they reveal the God who is necessary, eternal, and personal; who governs all things with wisdom; and who, above all, is holy and near to those who believe. These testimonies are not cold proofs. They are God's way of revealing his name, inviting us to know him, trust him, and call upon him.
Chapter 3:
The Names of God Biblical Names for God In Scripture, the "name" of God refers to everything God reveals about himself. A name isn't just a label—it signifies a person's character and how they make themselves known. Even today, we feel the importance of our names. They represent who we are. In the ancient world, and especially in the Bible, this connection between
name and person was even stronger. Names revealed identity and purpose.
This is why names in the Bible often have meanings tied to a person's calling or story. Sometimes God changes a name to mark a new stage in a person's life, like Abram becoming Abraham, or Jacob becoming
Israel. Even Jesus was given his name because he would save his people from their sins. These names weren't just convenient labels— they were part of how God revealed himself and worked in history.
The same is true for God's own name. In Scripture, God reveals his name—not arbitrarily, but purposefully. We don't invent names for God; he tells us who he is. His name represents his glory, power, holiness, and character. In this sense, God's name is not just a title, but his presence, his being, and his work made known to us.
The most significant name God revealed in the Old Testament is YHWH, the name he gave to Israel. Through this name, God showed himself as faithful, present, and unchanging. His name dwelt among his people—in the temple, in worship, and in the promises he made. Because of this, God's people were commanded to honor and not misuse his name. Instead, they were to praise it, proclaim it, trust in it, and call upon it in worship and prayer.
In the New Testament, God's name becomes even more fully revealed through Jesus Christ. The Son makes the Father known.
To know Jesus is to know God. His name carries power—salvation, forgiveness, healing, and eternal life all come through him. We are baptized into the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, showing our union with the one true God. And one day, in the new creation,
God's name will be written on the foreheads of his people, marking them as his own forever.
So, when Scripture speaks of God's name, it's not referring to an abstract title. It's talking about God as he has revealed himself to us
—how he makes himself known in his relationship to his creation and to his people. God's name includes all that he is: his glory, truth, holiness, mercy, and love. And because he has made his name known, he calls us to honor it.
To know God's name is to know him as he has revealed himself. To call on his name is to trust, worship, and walk in fellowship with him.
Every name by which God is known teaches us something about who he is—and every name calls us to respond with reverence, obedience, and praise.
God's Self-Revealed Names and Human Language The names we use to speak of God are not inventions of our imagination. They come from God himself. He reveals his name to us through nature and through his Word. Because God's revelation is given to humans, it uses human language—words and images we can understand. If God were to speak to us in his own divine language, we would not comprehend it. But in his grace, he condescends—he stoops down—to speak to us in ways that are meaningful to us.
All of the names we use for God are drawn from the world around us and from human experience. We call God "Father," "King," "Judge,"
"Rock," "Light," and "Shepherd"—terms familiar to us in our daily lives. Even God's attributes, like eternity or immutability, are expressed in human terms. The Bible doesn't describe these qualities in abstract, philosophical definitions. Instead, it tells us what God is like in relation to his world and his people.
Because of this, the Bible is full of what theologians call anthropomorphisms—descriptions of God using human traits.
Scripture speaks of God having hands, eyes, ears, a heart, even emotions like joy, grief, anger, love, jealousy, and compassion. It says he speaks, remembers, forgets, walks, sits, writes, heals, and more.
These are not literal descriptions of what God is physically or emotionally, but they communicate who God is and how he relates to us.
The Bible also describes God using metaphors from nature. He is called a lion, a lamb, the sun, a rock, a fountain, bread, water, fire, light. All of creation—animate and inanimate, visible and invisible— is used to help us grasp something of who God is. Though God is beyond all comprehension, these images help communicate aspects of his character and glory.
This richness of language doesn't limit God; it reflects the vastness of his being. No single name or image can fully capture who God is, so Scripture uses many. The diversity of these names helps us draw near to him with reverence and understanding. As Augustine said,
God is everything we need—light for our darkness, food for our hunger, shelter for our vulnerability. Though none of the names we use can describe God perfectly, they each point us to a true part of his glory.
The Danger of Dualism However, we must be careful not to separate God's revelation from the world he made. Some philosophies have drawn a false line between the spiritual and the material, treating creation as something outside of God's concern. This view wrongly limits God's revelation to only religious or moral experiences within the heart or conscience.
But Scripture teaches that God is Lord over all: not just the heart, but also nature, history, society, and culture. His glory is revealed not only in our personal faith but in the whole world. The Old and New
Testaments show us a God who is active in creation, government, justice, and the arts—who speaks not just through private experience, but through everything he has made.
When we limit God's voice to only personal religion or inward feelings, we lose sight of his majesty and his rightful place over every part of life. Theology becomes weak, and the church's witness in the world fades. But when we remember that God has spoken in nature and in grace, in creation and in re-creation, we see him as he truly is: the one living and true God who rules all things and makes himself known to us by name.
Naming the Nameless God Scripture tells us that God is beyond our full understanding—greater than anything we can imagine. Yet throughout the Bible, God reveals himself using names that we can understand. This creates a tension:
God is infinite and cannot be fully known, yet he gives us names so that we may know him truly. How can this be?
The answer lies in God's own act of creation and revelation. Though creation is infinitely below God, it is still his work. Everything that exists was made by him and designed to reflect something of who he is. That means creation is not separate from or opposed to God—it is his handiwork, meant to reveal his glory. God has chosen to make himself known through what he has made.
This is why we can speak of God using creaturely and human language. He has come down to our level and revealed himself in forms we can grasp. From the beginning, he has spoken to humanity
in our language, using images and terms drawn from our world. This isn't a limitation—it's grace. If God spoke to us in purely divine terms, we couldn't understand him. So he accommodates himself to our weakness, using names and images from the created world to speak of himself.
This means that all our language about God is necessarily anthropomorphic—it uses human forms to describe divine realities.
But this isn't wrong or misleading. In fact, it is the only way we can truly speak of God at all. If we reject all creaturely language, we end up with silence. But silence isn't faith—it's agnosticism. And faith requires words.
Even the most abstract theological terms—like "Being," "Spirit,"
"Reason," or "the Absolute"—are still drawn from human experience.
They too are limited and creaturely. So whether we speak in concrete or abstract terms, we are always using finite language to speak about the Infinite. And that's okay—because God himself has chosen to reveal himself in this way.
True, Though Incomplete Of course, this language doesn't give us full or exhaustive knowledge of God. We never grasp God in his essence. But the knowledge we do gain is still true. In every area of life, we deal with mysteries. Even in science, we work with concepts—like atoms or energy—that we never fully see or understand. Yet we still speak meaningfully about them.
The same is true with God. Though our knowledge is limited, it is real. We learn about him by observing the world and hearing his
Word. Since all spiritual realities are invisible, we must describe them using terms from the visible world. That's why Scripture uses
metaphors, images, and human terms for God. These don't distort the truth—they help us see it.
Poetic or symbolic language is not false—it is often the truest way to express something profound. Just as we describe emotions or thoughts using physical imagery (like "broken-hearted" or "a bright idea"), so we describe God using terms that point to realities beyond what we can see.
Creaturely Names, Divine Origin While we use human words for God, those names are not invented by us. They reflect truths that were first in God himself. All good qualities—love, justice, strength, wisdom—exist in God perfectly. We experience them only in part. He is the source; we are the reflection.
So when we call God "Father," "Shepherd," "Light," or "Rock," we are not projecting our ideas onto him. Rather, we are naming what he has already revealed. In fact, God created the world in such a way that it would reflect his attributes. The creatures and relationships we know—fathers, rulers, friends—are modeled after his eternal perfections.
Scripture confirms this: just as the temple on earth was patterned after a heavenly design, all things on earth reflect the reality that first existed in God. Every good gift we enjoy—truth, beauty, love, life— has its source in him. He is the original; everything else is a copy.
We call God by many names because God has revealed himself in many ways. While no name can fully express who he is, each name gives us a glimpse of his glory. Speaking of God with human language is not a flaw—it is the only way we can truly know him. And
we speak this way not because we are trying to bring God down to our level, but because God has graciously come down to us.
All our knowledge of God begins with his grace—his choice to reveal himself. And all our speech about God, however limited, is rooted in his revelation. He gives us names to call on him. And in calling his name, we draw near to the One who made us, knows us, and saves us.
Knowing the Infinite God The Bible speaks of God using images and language from our everyday world. He reveals himself through creation, and most fully through Jesus Christ, who took on human nature. Although Christ's human form didn't fully display the glory of God, he still made the Father known. This shows us an important truth: even though our knowledge of God is limited, it can still be true, faithful, and sufficient.
We name God based on how he has revealed himself—not because we have the ability or right to define him on our own. God has taught us how to speak about him, giving us his names through nature and Scripture. These names are not inventions of human reasoning, but come from what God has objectively revealed about himself.
Historically, theologians have used the terms archetypal and ectypal to describe this distinction. Archetypal knowledge refers to God's perfect knowledge of himself. Ectypal knowledge is the limited and creaturely knowledge we have of him, based on his revelation. This protects us from two common errors.
Avoiding Two Errors
First, some claim that humans can have direct, exhaustive knowledge of God—whether through mystical experience or intellectual reasoning. But Scripture teaches otherwise: no one has seen God fully, except the Son. We only know God as he reveals himself, and always indirectly. Like Moses who only saw God's back, we too see only reflections of God's glory. We live by faith, not by sight.
Second, others claim that all the names we use for God—like "wise,"
"good," "just"—are just poetic symbols, not meant to describe God in any real way. But this view falls short. If God's attributes were only symbolic, we could just as well call him "silver" or "stone," since he created those things too. But we mean more when we say "God is good" than just "God causes goodness." God is not simply a distant force behind the world. He personally reveals himself in meaningful ways that correspond to what we call goodness, wisdom, or love.
Some modern thinkers, especially those influenced by rationalism or idealism, have tried to reduce theology to symbolic language. They keep using biblical terms, but only as vague spiritual metaphors. This approach empties theology of its power. If God's names are only symbolic, then religion becomes nothing more than a reflection of our inner thoughts—and God becomes whoever we imagine him to be.
The Biblical View of Knowing God Scripture takes a different approach. It teaches that:
1. God is the Creator. Everything that exists was made by him and reflects him in some way. The universe is not just creation— it is also revelation. There is no part of the world that doesn't point to God.
2. Humans are God's image. While all creation displays God's glory, humans do so in a special way. This gives us a unique capacity to know and speak about God, especially using language from human life.
3. God is both near and far. He is above all creation— transcendent—and yet intimately present in it—immanent. This balance is crucial: he is not identical with creation, but neither is he distant or detached from it.
Because of this, our theology is not symbolic in the imaginative or artistic sense. It is ectypal—a real but limited reflection of God's own perfect self-knowledge. Our knowledge is shaped by analogy.
We know God like a child knows a parent—not fully, but truly. We know God as he reveals himself, not as he exists in his inner essence.
Key Points of Ectypal Theology 1. All true knowledge of God comes from God himself— through his revelation, not human invention.
2. God accommodates himself to our level—he speaks in ways we can understand, using creaturely language to communicate infinite truths.
3. This is possible because God created us with the ability to know him. Finite creatures can receive true knowledge of the infinite when God reveals it.
4. Our knowledge is always analogical—we know God in relation to how he has acted toward us, not by directly grasping his essence. We understand him through his works and words.
5. Even though our knowledge is limited, it is real and trustworthy. It is grounded in God's own perfect knowledge of himself and in his choice to make himself known to us.
Classifying God's Names Scripture uses many names to speak about God, but it never starts with a cold, abstract idea of God. Nor does it highlight one of God's attributes in a way that overshadows the others. Instead, the Bible reveals all of God's perfections in beautiful harmony. God is never fragmented into isolated traits—he is always presented as a whole person, consistent and glorious in every way.
Just as Christ is not a collection of characteristics but a living person, so God is fully and perfectly revealed through the unity of all his attributes. When Scripture speaks of God's being, it does so through his revealed names and actions—not as some hidden essence apart from how he makes himself known.
We do not find in the Bible a sharp distinction between God's essence and his attributes. His "being" is shown to us in how he acts, in the names he gives himself, and in the works he performs. This means that when we speak of God's names, we are also speaking of his perfections—his glory, his wisdom, his justice, and so on.
God's Essence and Revelation That said, it's still important—especially in contrast to false views like pantheism—to affirm that God has a real, distinct nature. He is not just another part of the universe; he exists independently and eternally. Yet, we cannot access this divine essence apart from his self-revelation. God doesn't show us something different from who
he truly is—he shows us himself. His revelation is not a mask but a window into his actual being.
Though God is infinitely greater than we are, and our understanding of him is only partial and analogical, what he reveals to us is real.
Each of his attributes gives us a glimpse of his full being from a particular angle. We never get the whole picture, but each name he reveals draws us closer to knowing him as he truly is.
Theological Tradition In the early church, theologians understood that everything they could say about God—his names, attributes, and even his triune persons—belonged to the category of God's self-revelation. When
Augustine spoke of God's "essence," he did not separate it from God's attributes. For him, God's being included his simplicity, eternity, goodness, wisdom, and more. These weren't added to God—they are
God.
Later theologians sometimes tried to make sharper distinctions between God's nature and his attributes, but many still recognized that we only know God through what he has shown us. And in that revelation, his attributes are not separate parts, but ways we come to know his one, perfect being.
Names That Speak of God's Being As Christian thinkers have studied the names and attributes of God, they've often asked: Is there one central truth or attribute that captures who God is most fully? Is there a starting point from which all other attributes flow?
Historically, many theologians have answered this by pointing to God's being—his self-existence, independence, and unchanging nature. This idea was linked to the name YHWH (the LORD), which in Scripture emphasizes that God simply is—he is not made, he depends on no one, and he alone gives existence to everything else.
From early on, this focus on God as "the One who is" became a foundation in Christian theology. Theologians like Augustine described God as the supreme being, perfectly good, wise, true, and beautiful. God is not a collection of qualities added to a base; all that he is—his love, justice, power, and more—is fully and eternally identical with his essence. He simply is, without change or need. His being is perfect and complete.
Later thinkers also highlighted other attributes as central—some emphasizing God's infinity, others his personality or intellect.
But even then, most agreed that God is the One who exists in and of himself, independent of all else.
The Reformation and Afterward The Protestant Reformers didn't fundamentally change this view.
Most Reformed theologians continued to define God as the independent, self-existent, and simple Spirit—meaning he is not composed of parts, and he is utterly sufficient in himself. They maintained a strong emphasis on God's transcendence and holiness, but always in the context of his personal, triune being.
However, some groups like the Socinians moved away from this classical doctrine. They focused almost entirely on God's will— reducing theology to moral commands and obedience. God became distant and unknowable apart from what he commanded. This emphasis continued in movements like Rationalism and Deism,
which rejected mystery and majesty for a God who was logical but detached.
In response, others like Spinoza returned to talking about God's essence, but did so through a pantheistic lens—seeing God as identical with the universe. God was "everything" and nothing in particular. This made room for deep spiritual feeling, but blurred the lines between God and the world.
Romanticism and philosophers like Schelling and Hegel tried to reunite spirit and nature, the infinite and finite, into a grand process of becoming. For Hegel, God was not the eternal One who is, but the world-spirit becoming self-aware through history. In this view, without the world, God would not even be God.
Recovering the Biblical God Yet many thinkers pushed back. They defended the classic Christian belief in a God who is both personal and absolute—a God who exists apart from the world, yet reveals himself in it. Some added richer reflections on God's Trinitarian nature, seeing the relationship of Father, Son, and Spirit as the heart of God's eternal life.
In all these debates, what remains essential is that God is not a concept or force, but the living, self-existent Lord who reveals himself in Scripture and creation. His name—YHWH—testifies that he is eternally and unchangeably himself, not becoming or developing, but always perfect, always God.
Personal and Moral Names of God
In more recent times, many thinkers turned away from philosophical or abstract discussions about God and instead focused on God's moral character, especially his love. As a result, the doctrine of God became more centered on his fatherly care and ethical goodness rather than on his sovereignty or metaphysical nature.
Some theologians emphasized God as Father, portraying him as loving and morally good, in contrast to earlier views that saw him primarily as a sovereign ruler or impersonal force. Others, like
Ritschl, argued that religion isn't a matter of law or power but of personal relationship. In his view, God's essence is not raw authority or abstract perfection but relational love. For him, Christian faith is built not on fear or obedience to law, but on fellowship with a loving God—like the bond between a parent and a child.
Ritschl criticized traditional theology for making God seem like a distant ruler who governs by strict justice. He rejected the idea that God rewards or punishes based on human merit. Instead, he believed that all doctrine should flow from God's love, the central truth of Christianity.
Some theologians agreed with this shift, going so far as to say that God's kingdom—his reign of righteousness and peace—is the true starting point for understanding who he is. From that, they argued, we can understand that God must be personal and loving.
Others, however, believed that this view went too far. They warned that focusing only on God's love could lead us to ignore other vital truths, like his holiness, justice, or absolute majesty. Some, like
Kaftan, argued that the idea of God as absolute—the One who is above all things—is still important, even if it needs to be shaped by the truths of Christian revelation. Others tried to combine both
views, calling God the perfect union of personal love and absolute being.
The challenge has always been to describe God in a way that fully honors all his attributes. Some emphasize one aspect over others
—God's power, goodness, truth, or love. But the task of Christian theology is to reflect the wholeness of God's character, just as Scripture does. God is not partly love and partly just; he is all-wise, all-good, all-just, and all-loving at once. His attributes are not in tension but in perfect harmony.
God's Simplicity: His Being and Attributes Christian theology has long taught that God is simple—meaning he is not made up of parts. His essence is not something separate from his attributes. Unlike creatures, where who we are can be distinguished from what we have (like a person being human while lacking righteousness), God is what he possesses. He does not merely have wisdom, power, or love—he is wisdom, he is power, he is love.
All of God's attributes are fully and perfectly present in him at all times and are not separate from one another or from his essence.
This doctrine of divine simplicity protects us from imagining God as a collection of traits or as being divided into pieces. It also guards us from the danger of treating God's qualities like competing forces, which historically has led to errors such as polytheism, where various powers in creation are personified and worshiped as separate deities. Similar ideas crept into early theological errors like
Gnosticism, where divine attributes were imagined as separate beings flowing out of God. These views compromised the unity and transcendence of God.
Even within Christian thought, some have misunderstood this point.
For instance, certain medieval theologians mistakenly spoke as if God's nature (or "divinity") was something he had, rather than what he is. Others claimed that God's attributes could be formally distinguished from his essence and from one another, though not completely separated.
In more recent theology, some have drifted even further. They've proposed that God's attributes are added onto his essence, almost
like extra qualities layered on top of his being. This weakens the biblical view of God's simplicity and threatens to divide him internally, making him more like a creature than the infinite, selfexistent One.
But Scripture never portrays God this way. It reveals a God who is perfectly united in his being—a God whose power is his wisdom, whose justice is his love, whose immutability is his goodness. All that is in God is God himself, not separate parts or aspects that can be peeled away. This unity is not a cold abstraction but the living fullness of the God who reveals himself in Scripture and in Christ.
God as Personal Absolute Being In true Christian theology, we must not treat God's attributes as though some are more essential than others or as if certain traits, like love, were added only after creation. This kind of distinction suggests that God isn't fully or equally all his attributes—an idea that weakens the biblical view of his perfection. Classical theology avoided this error by affirming God's simplicity—that God is fully and perfectly himself in every attribute.
Some critics say theology borrowed from philosophy when it described God as "Being" or "the Absolute." But in Scripture and Christian theology, these terms were never meant to strip God of his richness. Instead, "Being" referred to God's fullness—his life, wisdom, truth, and love—all united and real. Theology doesn't arrive at this view by emptying God of content, as philosophy does, but by acknowledging that all perfections found in creatures come from him and exist in him in absolute form. So when theology calls God
"Being," it means the most real, full, and perfect existence possible— not a vague or abstract idea.
This is why theology emphasizes that God's attributes (like love, justice, power, and holiness) are not separate from who he is. He is all of these—eternally, perfectly, and fully. That's why God's essence must be described in terms that reflect this richness, and why describing God simply as "a person" or only as "love" falls short.
These descriptions are true, but if taken alone, they miss the full picture and risk turning God into a one-dimensional figure. For example, calling God "love" is scriptural and right, but if that becomes the only defining trait, it may overshadow his holiness, justice, or sovereignty.
Instead, Christian theology has often focused on God's aseity—that he exists from himself, dependent on nothing and no one. This is what is meant by God being absolute. He is not a part of the world.
He isn't shaped by creation. He is above all things, the source of everything, and perfectly self-sufficient. This makes him the only true and necessary being—everything else exists because of him.
The Bible supports this high view of God throughout. God creates by speaking. He rules all things. He alone is from everlasting to everlasting. He is the Alpha and the Omega. This vision of God as the absolute, independent, perfect Being is deeply biblical and foundational for Christian faith.
So, rather than choosing one trait to represent God (like personality or love), Scripture and sound theology teach us to see God as the infinite fullness of all perfections. His aseity—his self-existence—is what sets him apart from all creation and affirms that he is truly
God.
Understanding the Attributes of God
Although we cannot divide God into parts—because each of his attributes fully expresses who he is—that doesn't mean we should treat his attributes as if they're just different names for the same thing, without real distinctions. Some have made that mistake, saying that if God is perfectly simple, then "love," "wisdom," and "power" all mean exactly the same thing when applied to God. But this view creates problems, especially when it denies real distinctions and ultimately undermines key Christian teachings, like the full divinity of Christ.
Throughout history, various philosophers and theologians have struggled with how to describe God's attributes. Some, like certain medieval thinkers or pantheists, treated them as either separate from God (as if they were lesser beings) or just as poetic ways of talking about God with no real meaning. Others said these attributes are only ways our minds interpret God's actions, not real truths about who God is.
But Scripture and sound theology teach something different: while all God's attributes are fully united in him, they are still distinct in meaning. For example, God's love is not the same as his justice, and neither is identical to his wisdom. They are all true of God at the same time, and yet they tell us different things about who he is.
These differences don't divide God but instead help us understand his infinite richness.
The early church fathers rightly said that we have many different ideas about God—not just different names—because each attribute reveals something real about him. Each name gives us a true, though limited, glimpse into his character. Think of it like light: though it's one thing, it appears in many colors when it shines through a prism.
Or like fire: the same fire gives warmth, light, or consumes, depending on how it relates to you.
The fact that God is described in so many ways in Scripture isn't a contradiction to his simplicity. It's actually a testimony to how full and rich his being is. His simplicity doesn't mean uniformity or lack of content. It means that everything he is—love, justice, wisdom, power—is united in perfect harmony. We just experience and understand those perfections from different angles.
Most importantly, we must remember that we use these names not because we invented them, but because God revealed them to us.
He makes himself known in this way so that we can relate to him.
Though our understanding is limited and our language is finite, it is still meaningful. There is a real connection—an analogy—between God's attributes and the things we know about in the created world.
That's why we can say God is righteous, merciful, and wise, and mean it.
So while we can't fully grasp God's being, we are not left in the dark.
His many names, drawn from his own revelation in Scripture and creation, help us to truly know him—even if we can never know him exhaustively. Every name, every attribute, gives us a window into the same glorious reality: the one, living, infinite, holy God.
How We Know God: Affirmation, Negation, and Causality In the early church, everything said about God was grouped under his "names." But as Christian theology developed, the need arose to organize those teachings more clearly. Over time, God's personal names (like "God" or "Lord") were distinguished from his attributes
(like "holy," "eternal," "merciful"), and the doctrine of the Trinity came to be treated separately.
To describe God's being and attributes, theologians began to ask:
How can we speak about a God who is beyond all human understanding? They found that we often come to know God in three ways:
1. By way of negation – we deny that God has any of the limits or imperfections we see in creation (e.g., God is not changeable or limited like creatures).
2. By way of affirmation or eminence – we ascribe to God, in a perfect and exalted form, all the good qualities we see in the world (e.g., wisdom, power, love).
3. By way of causality – we recognize God as the source and cause of all that exists, and from his works we gain knowledge about who he is.
These three approaches—especially the first two—have shaped Christian theology through the ages. Some thinkers criticized these methods, claiming they reduce God to human ideas or rely too heavily on reasoning from creation. But these approaches don't invent ideas about God; they reflect on what God has already made known in his creation and in Scripture.
It's important to understand that we don't know God as he knows himself. We know him only as he has revealed himself to us—in the world he made, and in his Word. That knowledge is real, even if it's limited. We don't describe God directly, but through comparisons, or analogies, to created things. Because creation reflects God's glory, these analogies are meaningful and true, even if they don't capture the fullness of who he is.
So, when we speak of God's power, wisdom, or love, we must affirm these as real perfections while also recognizing that God possesses them in a way far beyond anything we experience. He is not wise in the same way we are wise—his wisdom is perfect, eternal, and complete. This is why, in Scripture and Christian thought, we affirm
God's attributes while also denying that he possesses them in a merely human way.
Mystics and theologians alike have described God as both known and unknowable, as both named and beyond naming. He is the source of every perfection and yet surpasses every description. Scripture itself supports this: the same God who reveals his glory also dwells "in thick darkness" (Exodus 20:21). The closer we draw to him, the more we realize that his greatness exceeds our grasp.
In the end, true knowledge of God comes through both affirmation and negation. We must say, "God is," and also confess, "He is not like anything we know." This doesn't lead to confusion, but to reverence.
It reminds us that our God is both intimately present and infinitely beyond us—the One who is holy, wise, just, and good, yet always greater than our best thoughts about him.
Classifying God's Attributes Throughout church history, theologians have tried to organize the many ways Scripture speaks about God. Since God reveals himself in so many names and attributes, some structure is helpful—but difficult. One of the oldest and most common ways to classify God's attributes is to divide them into negative and positive categories.
Negative attributes describe what God is not (e.g., he is not limited, not changeable).
Positive attributes describe what God is (e.g., he is good, wise, just).
Another important distinction is between incommunicable and communicable attributes.
Incommunicable attributes are those that belong to God alone, such as his independence, unchangeableness, infinity, and unity.
Communicable attributes are those that, in some way, are reflected in us as his image bearers, such as wisdom, righteousness, love, and power.
This distinction helps us remember that while God is totally distinct from us, he has also made us in his image and revealed himself in ways we can understand—at least in part.
The Purpose and Limits of These Categories Though useful, these divisions have their limitations. They can give the false impression that God's attributes are divided into two disconnected halves: one that belongs to God "in himself" and another that only appears in relation to creation. But in reality, all
God's attributes are part of who he is. They are not things he picks up along the way.
Even so-called "negative" or "incommunicable" attributes (like eternity or immutability) are still made known to us through creation. We come to understand God's eternity only because we live in time; we grasp his immensity only because we live in space. These truths about God are not direct knowledge of his essence, but they are real and meaningful.
Similarly, while "positive" attributes like love or holiness are seen in creation and reflected in humanity, they exist in God in a way that is infinite, perfect, and unique. We know these qualities only in part and by analogy, but they are true.
God's Attributes Revealed Through Creation and in Christ All of God's creation reveals something of his character. Everything he has made, from the smallest creature to the vastness of the heavens, shows his power, wisdom, and goodness. Yet not all creatures reflect his attributes equally. Human beings, made in his image, display his likeness in a unique way: in knowledge, righteousness, and holiness.
The clearest and fullest expression of God's attributes is found in Jesus Christ, who is the image of the invisible God. In him we see
God's attributes not only in their divine form but also as they relate personally to us.
A Practical Way to Organize the Attributes Though we cannot perfectly systematize the infinite being of God,
Christian theology typically groups his attributes like this:
1. Incommunicable Attributes – those unique to God alone:
Aseity (self-existence) Immutability (unchangeableness) Infinity (eternity and omnipresence) Unity (oneness and simplicity)
2. Communicable Attributes – those which God shares with creatures in some measure:
Spiritual nature: God is spirit and invisible.
Intellect: God knows all things, is wise and truthful.
Moral attributes: God is good, righteous, and holy.
Will and power: God acts freely, powerfully, and sovereignly.
Glory and joy: God is blessed, perfect, and glorious.
These attributes are not just abstract ideas. They come from God's revelation—in nature, in Scripture, and most fully in Christ. We don't know God in his essence, but we do have real, reliable knowledge of him because he has made himself known.
God's Proper Names When we speak of God's "names" in a narrow sense—different from his attributes—we mean the names used to directly refer to or address God as a personal, independent being. Every culture and language has some word for God. Even though God, in himself, has no name like we do, we need names to speak of him and to relate to him. Without a name, we cannot speak meaningfully about anyone or anything.
Historically, many languages have connected their word for "God" with ideas of the heavens, light, lordship, or mystery. For example:
In Greek, theos has been linked to ideas like seeing, shining, or being called upon.
In other ancient cultures, words for "God" often meant "Heaven", "the One who shines", "the Ruler," or "the One who is hidden."
Our English word "God" has uncertain roots, possibly related to ideas of goodness, being called upon in worship, or selfexistence.
In the Bible, God's "name" often means more than just a title—it refers to his whole character, reputation, and presence. That's why
Scripture speaks of the greatness, glory, and holiness of God's name.
The Jewish tradition identified many names for God—sometimes listed as seventy or more. Early Christian theology also grouped
God's attributes under the idea of his "names," but over time, theologians began distinguishing between God's proper names (like
"LORD" or "El Shaddai") and his attributes (like wisdom or love).
One early scholar, Jerome, limited God's proper names to ten key Hebrew titles used in the Old Testament, including:
El – the Strong One Elohim – God (a plural form emphasizing majesty) Elohe – another form of Elohim Sabaoth – Lord of Hosts Elyon – the Most High
Ehyeh Asher Ehyeh – "I AM WHO I AM"
Adonai – Lord Yah – a short form of God's name YHWH – the covenant name of God, often rendered "LORD"
Shaddai – the Almighty These names are not just labels. They reveal who God is in his covenant, his power, his nearness, and his majesty. God gives us these names so we can know him, call on him, and worship him in truth.
El, Elohim, and El Shaddai One of the most basic names for God in the Bible is El. It appears throughout the Old Testament and is common in ancient Semitic languages. Scholars debate its origin, but it likely means either "the Strong One" or "the One who is above all." The name emphasizes
God's power and supremacy.
Another common name is Elohim, which is actually a plural form but almost always used with singular verbs and adjectives when referring to the one true God. This shows that the name doesn't imply multiple gods (as in polytheism), nor does it directly teach the Trinity, though some Christians have seen hints of it. Rather, the plural form probably serves to express God's greatness and fullness of power—a plural of majesty or intensity. It portrays God as the all-powerful Creator who stands above all things and sustains everything.
The singular form Eloah is more poetic and rare, while Elohim is the most common name used for God in the Old Testament.
Names like El Elyon ("God Most High") highlight God's exalted position over all creation. Others, like Adonai ("Lord"), express
God's rule and ownership over everything and his relationship to people as their Master. These names often appear in phrases like
"Lord of lords" or "Lord of all the earth," stressing his supreme authority.
In earlier times, the name Baal (meaning "lord") was also used for God, but it was later rejected due to its association with pagan worship.
Although these names are not unique to the God of Israel and can sometimes be used of human rulers or false gods, they became the regular way God's people addressed him. In them, the focus is not on philosophical definitions of God's essence but on his majesty, power, and authority—especially in relation to his people. The Semitic mindset deeply felt this relationship: God was their King, and they were his humble servants.
El Shaddai: God Almighty Though God is exalted above creation, he graciously reveals himself to his people. In his covenant with Abraham, God introduced himself as El Shaddai, often translated "God Almighty." This name appears throughout the patriarchal stories and highlights God's power to fulfill his promises, even when circumstances seem impossible.
While scholars debate the exact origin of the name, its consistent meaning in Scripture points to God's supreme strength and ability to rule over all things. El Shaddai is not merely the God
of creation (as expressed in the name Elohim), but the God who can bend creation to serve his purposes of grace. He uses his might not to terrify, but to protect, bless, and uphold his people.
Through this name, God draws near in covenant love. From this point on, he is often referred to as the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob—personal and faithful to his people. Though all-powerful, he is not distant, but near.
YHWH: The Lord God revealed himself most intimately through the name YHWH— often translated "the Lord" in English Bibles. This is considered
God's most sacred name, expressing his eternal and unchanging nature, his faithfulness, and his self-existence. While other names reveal aspects of God's relationship with the world, YHWH speaks to who God is in himself.
Out of reverence, the Jewish people eventually stopped saying this name aloud, replacing it with "Adonai" (Lord). As a result, the original pronunciation was lost. Some early Christians speculated on how it was spoken—suggesting forms like Yahweh, Yaho, or Iaou— but no one can be completely certain today.
Later, the form Jehovah arose by combining the consonants YHWH with the vowels of Adonai. This pronunciation, however, is not original and likely does not reflect how the name was spoken in ancient times.
Despite the mystery around its pronunciation, the meaning is clear from Exodus 3:14, where God says, "I am who I am." The name
YHWH declares God's absolute existence, his faithfulness to his promises, and his presence with his people. It speaks
of a God who does not change and who always acts according to his perfect will.
The Meaning and Significance of YHWH There has been much debate over the origin and meaning of the name YHWH (often rendered as "the LORD" in English Bibles).
Some have argued that the name comes from foreign sources, such as Babylon or Canaan, but these theories lack strong evidence. Even if similar names existed elsewhere, the meaning and use of YHWH in Israel is entirely unique. In Scripture, YHWH is not one god among many, but the one true God, the Creator, and the Redeemer of his people.
The name is widely believed to be related to the Hebrew verb "to be" (היה or הוה). Some have suggested it means "he causes to be"
(the Creator), while others see it as "he is" (the One who truly exists).
However, the best explanation is found in Exodus 3, where God speaks to Moses from the burning bush and says, "I am who I am"
(Ehyeh Asher Ehyeh). This name reveals God's unchanging nature and his faithfulness to his promises.
When God says, "I am who I am," he is assuring Moses—and Israel— that he is the same God who was with their ancestors, who is with them now, and who will always be with them. He is not introducing a new deity, but reaffirming that he is the eternal, faithful, and unchanging God. His name is a promise: he will always be what his people need, according to his covenant grace.
So, even though the name YHWH may have been known before Moses, its true meaning was first revealed at this crucial moment in redemptive history. From that point on, the name became the
divine guarantee of God's covenant loyalty. God is YHWH, the Lord who remains faithful through time, trials, and suffering.
This name became deeply connected to Israel's history and identity— the name of the God who brought them out of Egypt and who remained their God forever.
YHWH Sabaoth – The Lord of Hosts In the Old Testament, the name YHWH is God's most sacred and personal name. It is never used for any other deity and never appears in the plural or with possessive endings. Sometimes this name is abbreviated in forms like Yah (as in "Hallelujah") or combined with titles like Adonai ("Lord") or Sabaoth, forming YHWH Sabaoth, which is often translated "Lord of hosts."
But what does "hosts" mean? Some have thought it refers to Israel's armies or the stars of heaven, but these interpretations fall short.
While the term "hosts" can describe various groups—people, stars, or creatures—it never consistently refers to God's military power or abstract cosmic forces.
The most compelling and biblically supported meaning is that "hosts" refers to the angelic armies of heaven. Throughout
Scripture, God is portrayed as being surrounded by a vast number of holy angels who serve him, worship him, and carry out his will.
These heavenly hosts reflect God's majesty and authority as the King of glory.
Thus, the name YHWH Sabaoth reveals God as the sovereign Lord of all, reigning in majesty over the heavens and the earth. This name portrays God not as a warrior in a worldly sense, but as the divine
King, glorified by angelic hosts and worshiped in his heavenly
temple. He is not only the Creator (Elohim) and the Almighty (El Shaddai), nor only the Faithful One (YHWH), but also the glorious
King who rules all things in righteousness and power.
God as Father In the New Testament, the name "Father" becomes the most common and intimate way believers refer to God. Though this name already appears occasionally in the Old Testament to describe God's relationship with Israel, it takes on fuller and deeper meaning in the New Testament through Jesus Christ.
In the Old Testament, calling God "Father" expressed his special covenant bond with Israel—he had formed them as a nation and loved them as his own. At times, he is also called "Father" as Creator and Sustainer of all (e.g., in his role as the origin of all life and every good gift).
But through Christ, the name "Father" reveals much more than origin or authority. It expresses a personal, relational, and ethical bond between God and his people. In Christ, this relationship is no longer only national or corporate, but personal and individual.
Believers are not just citizens of a kingdom but children in God's household.
This shift shows the heart of the New Testament gospel. God is still the Lord, the Almighty, and the King—but now he is also known and loved as Father. His kingdom is a family, and his rule is one of grace. Believers are born of him, bear his likeness, and live under his fatherly care.
This relationship is possible only through Jesus Christ, God's eternal and beloved Son. Through him, and by the working of the