3 The Christian Explanation of the Trinity in the Eighth, Ninth, and Tenth Centuries
3
The Christian Explanation of the Trinity in the Eighth, Ninth, and Tenth Centuries
HAVING PRESENTED A POSSIBLE ANSWER to the Qur’anic perception of the Trinity and the divinity of Mary, the current chapter focuses on the scholarly Islamic objections to the Trinity—the ones presented in of this volume. By relying on English and Arabic resources, this chapter introduces the life, background, and trinitarian arguments of three Arab Christian scholars (John of Damascus, Theodore Abū Qurrah, and Yaḥya Ibn cAdī) who defended the Trinity in the eighth, ninth, and tenth centuries and answered many Islamic objections to the Trinity.
JOHN OF DAMASCUS (AD 675–754)
John’s life and educational background. John was born in a great Damascene family that participated in the negotiation of the peaceful surrender of Damascus to the Muslim army. Sarjun, John’s grandfather, negotiated the terms of surrender with Khalid Ibn al-Walīd and helped the Christians keep fifteen of their churches. John grew up under Islamic rule and spent the early part of his life working as a member of the financial administration in Damascus, probably under cabd al-Malik (AD 685–705). Daniel Sahas suggests that John may have attained a higher position than his father, a personal secretary to the caliph, while continuing with the financial responsibilities his father left to him.
While John lived under Islamic rule, his father made sure he received a good education. Several sources report that John learned philosophy and Greek from a Sicilian monk who was captured by Muslims, brought to Syria, and later on freed by John’s father. Although most of John’s writings were in Greek, it is hard to know whether this story is authentic or not. Frederic Chase, who wrote the introduction and translated three of John’s writings into English, states that John’s understanding of classical Greek philosophy was clearly demonstrated in his books. He also concludes that John’s writings are “sufficient to show that his traditional reputation as an eloquent, learned, and devout preacher is fully justified.” Later in his life, John retreated to the monastery of Mar Sabas in southern Palestine.
According to Janosik, it is likely that John remained working under the Umayyad government through the reign of Walid I (AD 706–715), entering Mar Sabas monastery to start his monastic life in AD 716. During this time, John wrote several poems and many liturgical, philosophical, and theological books, including The Fount of Knowledge, which is mostly Greek philosophy. He also wrote The Orthodox Faith, which is also called “Dialectic.” It is considered the first Summa because it includes a summary of dogmatic faith of the early Fathers and is designed to help Christians know their faith. On Heresies is a summarized work similar to Irenaeus’s and Hippolyte’s works against heresies. Finally, John wrote a short article called “The Discussion of a Christian and a Saracen,” recounting a conversation between a Muslim and a Christian. His writings still prove influential today, and his teachings continue to be used throughout the Eastern Orthodox world.
History indicates that John was neither a miracle worker nor a martyr. Nevertheless, the reason behind his desire to shift to monastic life is uncertain. Some resources mention that he decided to leave his position under the Umayyad’s rule after he was persecuted by the caliph. The story asserts that after John sent his iconography defense to the Byzantine emperor, the latter created a forged letter that counterfeited John’s handwriting and was sent to the Muslim ruler of Damascus leaking strategic information about the status of the city and its army. When the Muslim ruler confronted John, he denied writing these letters but acknowledged that the handwriting seemed similar to his. The caliph ordered John’s hand amputated as a punishment. After the amputation, John prayed to Mary the mother of Jesus to intercede for him. The next morning, his hand was miraculously healed. When the Muslim prince saw his hand healed, he asked John about the doctor who helped him. John replied, “My Christ is a medical Seer. He is omnipotent. It was not difficult for him to heal me, so he was fast in his accomplishment.” It is important to mention that while Joseph Nasrallah quotes the details of this story, including John’s prayer to Mary, he states that the event is closer to legend than history, especially considering that it was not mentioned in any earlier historical literature, and it is written by unknown authors.
During John’s time in the monastery, he preached in several churches. According to Frederic Chase, John “was a preacher of the first order and, although his style is at times more effusive and exalted, he may be said to rank with the great Chrysostom.” In the title of one of John’s homilies, he is described as “a presbyter (priest) of the Holy resurrection of Christ,” which may refer to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. This sort of evidence indicates that he was ministering in Jerusalem and other areas outside Mar Sabas monastery. Because he defended the Christian faith in the eighth century against Islamic objections, John is now considered the first apologist to the Muslims.
The formation of Islamic theology. As stated in , during the eighth, ninth, and tenth centuries, Islamic theology developed through conversations and debates between ahl al-ra’y (the people of opinion), who were mostly Muctazilites, and ahl al-Ḥadīth (the people of Ḥadīth), who were called Traditionalists. The former group based their opinions on reason, whereas the latter relied on literal reading and application of the Qur’an and Ḥadīth. While these debates were conducted, a new party emerged “with its tendency to take the middle ground between the Muctazilites and the Traditionists, Ashcarism came to dominate the theological scene in much of the Sunni world.” Ashcarites and Muctazilites debated different topics, but the most important subject concerning this study is the nature of the Qur’an—the created word versus the uncreated word of God. Ashcarites argued against Muctazilites that the Qur’an is uncreated—and therefore, it is eternal. There is no time in history when God existed without his word. Similar to God’s speech are God’s attributes. Ashcarites argued that since God’s speech is eternal, his attributes (omnipotence, power, knowledge, etc.) are eternal as well. Allah was, is, and always will be omnipotent, all-powerful, and perfect in knowledge. All his attributes and speech are eternal and inseparable from his essence.
Muctazilites, on the other hand, refused to believe in the eternality of the Qur’an. They viewed God speaking or revealing as an anthropomorphic act, which—if taken literally—ultimately would destroy the unity of God. If God’s discourse is as eternal as God’s being, then there would be two eternal entities (God and his word) rather than one that existed eternally. Since the Qur’an is Allah’s speech, then it must be eternal like his nature. The eternality of the Qur’an also implies that it is uncreated because it is part of Allah’s nature (like his attributes). Muctazilites rejected this view because, in their opinion, it leads to shirk (polytheism) and ultimately destroys the unity of God. If the Qur’an existed apart from God (which it did on Al-Lawh Al-Mahfūẓ), then there would be two eternal entities rather than one, and the unity of Allah would be compromised. The seeds of this argument were planted during John’s days, but the argument was only officially formulated in the eleventh century.
John’s trinitarian argument. As stated in the previous chapters, the Islamic invasion of the Levant carried with it several political, economical, and religious consequences. While many Christians considered the Islamic conquest as a judgment from God, others lost their faith because of persecution and the jizya mandate. Many thought it was economically wiser and physically safer to ally with the stronger, winning party than with the losers. Their faith was not well-rooted in the church’s teachings, and their economical situation was given a priority over their spiritual beliefs. John was quick to notice the spiritual weakness of his own people and the need to define the Christian faith. While he writes about the fundamentals of the orthodox Christian faith in his book The Orthodox Faith, he teaches about heresies and Islam in his book On Heresies. John probably lists Islam as a heresy because during the first half of the eighth century, Islam was still in its formative stage. Its rules, traditions (Ḥadīth), and even the written Qur’an were still developing at that time as the Arabs were expanding into new lands, powers, and territories. According to Janosik, “Islam was not very distinct from Christianity in the time of John of Damascus and it is only in the latter half of the eighth century, when the earliest biographies on Muhammad were being written and the first Ḥadīths were being penned, that the finalization of the Qur’an was also taking place.” Many theological schools were yet to form in the later centuries, and the theological and cultural distinctions between Islam and Christians were yet to become more defined.
Writing in an Islamic context, John needed to be careful about the way he unfolded his arguments. At the same time, he needed to be explicit to help Christians distinguish between what they believed and what their Muslim neighbors believed. In his book On the Orthodox Faith, John’s prologue of his Summa Theologica started by mentioning the incomprehensibility of God due to the limited knowledge of human beings, which is common ground between Christians and Muslims. John explains that no one has seen God; therefore, no one can fully know him. Only Jesus “who is in the bosom of the Father, he has declared him . . . the Holy Spirit knows the things of God, just as the spirit of man knows what is in man.” John gives the divine revelation a high position, advising his students against declaring things about God beyond what is being revealed to humanity.
On the nature of the deity and the Trinity, John lists several attributes of the Godhead to emphasize the oneness of God. While some of these attributes are common between Muslims and Christians, others are exclusive to Christianity; therefore, they are misunderstood by the Muslims. For example, John stresses the idea of God being one, “one substance, one godhead, one virtue, one will, one operation, one principality, one power, one domination, one kingdom; known in three prefect Persons and adored with one adoration, believed in and worshiped by every rational creature, united without confusion and distinct without separation.” His intention is to teach his students the theistic nature of their belief against the Islamic accusation of being Mushrikūn (polytheists). John uses the word one in a numerical sense, which is the same way that Muslims use it to convey the theistic nature of Christianity.
After establishing the oneness of God, John moves to write about the three persons of the Trinity. He affirms the Nicene Creed, the Chalcedonian confession of Christology, and the Eastern Orthodox understanding about the Holy Spirit (anti-filioque). John describes the Father as being “the cause of all things, begotten of no one, who alone is uncaused and unbegotten, the maker of all things.” Muslims would accept this description and apply it to Allah; however, they reject the term “Son of God” (Surah 112:3). As stated earlier, Muslims understand the theological terms literally, which John took notice of, and he developed a special way of teaching the Christians how to understand and explain their orthodox faith. Regarding the term “the Son of God,” John elucidates that Jesus has the same essence of the Father and is eternal with the Father because he “was begotten of the Father before all the ages, light from light, true God from true God, begotten not made; consubstantial with the Father, by whom all things are made.” John continues, “We say that he is before all ages, we mean that His begetting is outside of time and without beginning, for the Son of God was not brought from nothing into being.” John affirms that the term “Son of God” has a special meaning in the Christian worldview. It is not literal, physical, or sexual, but eternal. The Son is as eternal as the Father and from the same nature of the Father. While the Father is unbegotten, the Son is begotten. Begotten does not mean that Jesus had a beginning nor had a different nature from the Father. The Son was not God who has converted to a human and lived among us on earth while leaving the universe unattended. On the contrary, Jesus is eternal with the Father and was even involved in creation.
The eternal state of the Father and the Son connotes immutability. The Father cannot be called a Father without a Son. The same thing goes for the Son; he cannot be called Son without having a Father. Since their relationship is mutual, simultaneous, and has no beginning or ending, it is by necessity unchanging. “The Father and the Son begotten of Him,” John states, “exist together simultaneously, because the Father could not be so-called without a Son. Now, if he was not Father when he did not have the Son, and then later became Father without having been Father before, then he was changed from not being Father to being Father, which is the worst of all blasphemies.” The concept of God’s mutability is rejected in Christianity because it connotes an inferior nature of the divine. If God’s nature is subject to change, then God can improve and develop. At one point he cannot do something, and at another point he is able to do it. The changing nature of God connotes progressive development within the divine essence; therefore, it is rejected totally in Christianity.
To explain what Christians believe about God begetting, John contrasts begetting and creation. While “begetting means producing of the substance of the begetter an offspring similar in substance to the begetter,” creation “is the bringing into being, from the outside and not from the substance of the creator, of something created and made entirely dissimilar.” This is another way to say that Jesus is not created; he is eternal with the Father because he and the Father have the same essence. Jesus is not created because there was no time in history when Jesus was not.
John’s belief about the Holy Spirit follows the Eastern Church’s tradition, which is anti-filioque. While the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father, he abides in the Son. Ascribing divine attributes that are similar to the Father and the Son affirms the divinity of the third person of the Trinity; therefore, John calls the Holy Spirit “uncreated, complete, creative, almighty, all-working, all-powerful, infinite in power; who dominates all creation but is not dominated; who deifies but is not deified; who fills but is not filled; who is shared in but does not share; who sanctifies but is not sanctified . . .” Although the Holy Spirit is divine in nature, he “is distinctly subsistent and exists in His own Person indivisible and inseparable from the Father and the Son.” The Holy Spirit participated in creation by giving subsistence to all things. In a nutshell, the three Aqanīm differentiate in their manner of existing—the Father is uncaused and unbegotten, the Son is begotten of the Father, and the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father.
The attributes of God is another related topic to the Trinity that John focuses on. He presents the omnibenevolence of God, attributing goodness to God and making him the source of all goodness. John states that God is “light itself and goodness and being in so far as having neither being nor anything else that is from any other; the very source of being for all things that are, of life to the living, of speech to the articulate, and the cause of all good things for all; knowing all things before they begin to be.” If God is the source of goodness, then he is not the source of evil; he does not have evil in his nature; therefore, he does not tempt people with evil. This is a point of difference between Islam and Christianity, and it is related to the morality of God.
Another divine attribute that is important to the conversation between Muslims and Christian is the transcendence of God. This doctrine is a fundamental issue and a point of difference between Islam and Christianity. John explains that God is transcendent; he is “removed far beyond all things and every substance as being supersubstantial and surpassing all, supereminently divine and good and replete; appointing all the principalities and orders, set above every principality and order, above essence and life and speech and concept.” Christians do not believe that God is only transcendent; they also believe that he is immanent in his creation. God is above, yet he pervades “all substances without being defiled.” Traditional Muslims during John’s time, however, held a different concept of the divine. They believed that God is utterly transcendent, and nothing is like him in creation. He is not immanent in his creation, and only Qur’anic attributes can be used to describe him.
John’s defense of the Trinity against Islamic objections. In his book On Heresies, John teaches students or Christians how to converse with Muslims against the accusation of being Mushrikūn (associators) in a more direct way than he did in his book On the Orthodox Faith. Being Mushrikūn implies that Christians do not believe in one God but three because they are associating Jesus and the Holy Spirit as divine persons with God. After explaining that Christians believe in one God, John advises his students to start the conversation with their fellow Muslims by asking them what the Qur’an says about Jesus. Based on his knowledge of the Qur’an, John anticipates the answer to be that Jesus is “the word of God and his spirit” (Surah 4:171). Based on this answer, John teaches his students to explain:
The word, and the spirit, is inseparable from that in which it naturally has existence. Therefore, if the Word of God is in God, then it is obvious that he is God. If, however, he is outside of God, then, according to you, God is without a word and spirit. Consequently, by avoiding the introduction of an associate with God you have mutilated Him. It would be far better for you to say that he has an associate than to mutilate Him, as if you were dealing with a stone or a piece of wood or some other inanimate object.
Several presuppositions can be extracted from this text: (1) God should be eternal because eternality is a concept related only to the divine nature, and it is part of God’s substance. Any being that is not eternal is not God. (2) God should have a word, and his word should be internal to him (part of his being), which makes his word as eternal as he is. If God does not have a word, then he would be mute and cannot communicate with his creation, and if his word is external to him, then at one point, he did not have a word. (3) God should have a spirit, otherwise he is dead. His spirit is as eternal as his word. John assumes that these presuppositions are acceptable by Muslims, and if they deny it, then their concept of the divine is mutilated.
Although both Christians and Muslims use the same words to describe Jesus, their references are different. When a Muslim thinks of “the word of God,” she means the book/Qur’an. When John thinks about “the word of God,” he means Jesus Christ. Noting this problem, John seeks to establish a common ground between the two worldviews in order to bring out the inconsistencies of the Islamic faith. After pointing out that both religions believe that Jesus Christ is “the word of God,” John notes the first inconsistency about the eternality of the Qur’an. The Qur’an and Jesus have eternal natures, which makes something/someone co-existing with God since eternity. Muslims do not see the eternality of the Qur’an as shirk (the greatest sin in Islam); however, they see the eternality of Jesus as shirk. John rationalizes that the Islamic belief in the eternality of the Qur’an is inconsistent with the Islamic worldview because it makes Muslims associators and shirk is the ultimate sin in Islam. When Muslims say that the Qur’an is eternal with God, they are combining two eternal existences together, and this is not acceptable in Islam because only Allah is eternal. John introduces this as a logical dilemma of the Islamic faith, stating that if Muslims accept the view that the “word of God” is internal to him (inseparable from him) and eternal with him, then they fall into the same trap they accused the Christians of: they are associating another eternal being with God. If they say, however, “the word of God” is outside of God and separate from him, then God had no word from eternity—this is a mutilation to the divine essence. John, therefore, concludes that it is logical to believe that the “word of God” is God.
The problem seems to be related to the way Christians and Muslims interpret the meaning of the phrase: “the word of God.” Muslims tend to be literal when they talk about “the word of God” because they understand it to be the Qur’an. However, when the Qur’an refers to Isa (Jesus) being “the word of God,” they shift to the nonliteral meaning, stating that “the word of God” means the messenger of God—Jesus is the one who delivered “the word of God.” In a different conversation, John realizes this problem and addresses it. The resulting article is titled “The Discussion of a Christian and a Saracen.” In this article, John teaches Christians how to converse with Muslims and ask different questions that are related to the topic of the word and the Spirit. If a Muslim, probably a Muctazili, says that the Qur’an is created, then John asks, “Who created the Word of God and the Spirit? For if compelled by necessity, he [a Muslim] will reply, ‘God Himself created (the Word and the Spirit),’ then do you again say, ‘Therefore before God created the Spirit and the Word, he had neither Spirit nor Word.’” Muctazilites believed in the createdness of the Qur’an in order to protect tawḥīd (the unity of God); however, if God created his word and Spirit, then chronologically speaking, at one point in history, he was without his word and Spirit. This is why John states in On Heresies that those who believe in the createdness of the Qur’an have mutilated God.
John foresees that some Muslims might deny the uncreatedness of the Qur’an, stating, “Behold, all the words of God are created. But they are not gods.” In the same sense, if Jesus is the created word of God, then he is not God. John explains in his book The Orthodox Faith that “things which are changeable must definitely be created,” because they increase or decrease in quality and morality. However, the creator must be unchangeable because he is perfect in his nature. This distinction might serve as a trap to the Muslims who believe in the createdness of the Qur’an, for if God created the word and the Spirit, then how could he have had his Spirit and word before they were created? If he did not have them before he created them, then his nature changed after he had them.
In response to the problem of the createdness of the Qur’an, John clarifies the fundamental rule in biblical interpretation by explaining the difference between the literal and the figurative meanings of the text. He states, “the literalness refers to the established and fixed meaning of a thing. Figurative interpretation, however, involves a secondary meaning.” John does not refer directly to the Nicene Creed, but he quotes it, explaining that the Son is begotten, not born; therefore, he is not created. He continues, “I acknowledge only one Word of God Who is uncreated. But I do not call Scripture λὀγια, that is ‘words’ of God; but ρήματα, that is ‘formal words’ of God.” John introduces here two distinctions that lie behind the concept “the word of God,” which is “the uttered words of God” versus “the written words of God,” and the singular form of “the word of God” (referring to Jesus) versus its plural form “the words of God” (referring to Scripture). The Scripture (the written words of God) is created because it is the words of human beings, but the “word of God,” Jesus Christ, is not created (he is begotten), therefore, he is God.
John wanted to teach his students that the Qur’anic expression “the word of God” refers to a person, not words/Scripture. The createdness of the Qur’an was not the common view among Muslims during John’s days because it was the persecuted view. However, John still marks it as a potential answer. Muslims might point out that Christians also believe in the creation of “the word of God,” not realizing that there is a great distinction between “the words of God” (plural form: his utterances, meaning the Scripture) and “the word of God” (singular form: referring to Jesus Christ). Muslims might claim that either the words are all God’s or that “the word of God” (the Christian profession of Jesus) is not God. In John’s view, the word (the written word of God) is neither created nor uncreated; however, Jesus (the living Word of God) is the one hypostatic “word of God,” a point even the Qur’an admits.
Traditionalist Muslims, according to Sahas, borrowed John’s distinction of the singular and plural form of the word/words of God and applied it “as a means to reaffirm the eternity and uncreatedness of the Qur’an without any differentiation from its utterance.” The later-developed Islamic distinction of the concept of “the words of God” follows the Christian concept of the Scripture: the Qur’an was proclaimed to be uncreated, but its pronouncement by men is created. This distinction was not developed until the end of the ninth century. The later Orthodox Muslims (Ashcarites) embraced the belief that God’s speech is eternal, but the written Qur’an is just a representation of the eternal Qur’an in heaven.
Harry Austryn Wolfson traces the createdness of the Qur’an to Labīd, who “had taught the createdness of the Torah, and Ṭalūb—insincere convert from Judaism to Islam—who was the first to write about this doctrine. So, the original belief about the pre-existent Qur’an was that it was created and that its uncreatedness was introduced later in consequence of the rise of the belief in uncreated attributes.” Saeed, on the other hand, proposes a different theory. He indicates that the Muctazilites’ position on the created nature of the Qur’an “was partly a reaction to the Christian notion of the incarnation of Jesus” because it threatens the unity of Allah, who is wholly transcendent and wholly other. If Saeed’s theory is true, then John’s argument may have played a major role in developing the later theological formation of the Islamic belief. John’s argument might have led the Muctazilites, a century after him, to believe that the Qur’an is created so as to avoid the dilemma of acknowledging two eternal beings.
THEODORE ABŪ QURRAH (AD 755–830)
Theodore Abū Qurrah was a Melkite monk who defended the Christian orthodox faith to Muslims, Monophysites, and others. Although historians do not know much about his life before becoming a monk or about how he received his education, they know that he was competent in Syriac, Arabic, and Greek. Abū Qurrah demonstrated good knowledge in philosophy by translating some of Aristotle’s books. He also left a wealth of written works and presented the rational and philosophical tenability of the Christian faith before Christian and Muslim officials within the context of his ecclesial and theological tradition.
As stated earlier, Abū Qurrah was the first theologian/apologist of the Eastern Orthodox Church to write in the Arabic language. His writings model John of Damascus’s works, which makes scholars think that he had a close association with Mar Saba’s monastery theologians. However, Griffith points out that “none of this requires that Abu Qurrah has been in Mar Sabas in John of Damascus’ lifetime, as many scholars who have written on the subject have assumed.” John of Damascus died before Abū Qurrah was born, but he might have read his writings, since both were Melkites and knew Greek and Syriac.
In AD 780, Abū Qurrah became the bishop of Ḥarrān in Mesopotamia, a position from which he was removed and reappointed in AD 799. The reason for his demotion is not clear; however, Griffith speculates that “it could have been his position in favor of public veneration of the icons that put Abū Qurrah on a collision course with Patriarch Theodoret of Antioch.” This hypothesis makes sense, especially given that Abū Qurrah regained his seat with the ascension of Patriarch Job, who liked him, perhaps because both were iconophiles. One of Theodore’s main concerns was clearly engaging in intra-Christian polemic in order to promote the belief of Melkite doctrine. In AD 780, Abū Qurrah set off on a journey south to Alexandria and north to Armenia to defend the Chalcedonian orthodoxy. In AD 817 in Armenia, he engaged in a debate in the presence of a prince, debating the Syrian Orthodox deacon Nonnus of Nisibis. He also engaged in a debate with Muslim scholars in the presence of caliph al-Ma’mūn in Ḥarrān.
Abū Qurrah was a well-known writer. He recognized a great need for effective religious teaching in Arabic to support the Christian faith and to proclaim the Gospel in the new social and political contest. He left about twenty compositions in Arabic, and forty-three other Greek texts that are attributed to him, though they are arguably translations from Arabic. At the end of the eighth century and the beginning of the ninth century, Arabic became the lingua sacra of the Qur’an and the common language of the Levant. This period was also known for mass conversions to Islam, largely on the part of Greek- and Syriac-speaking Christians in the Levant, Mesopotamia, and Egypt. Many Chalcedonians soon found themselves subject to the rule of an aggressive and expansionist foreign religion—not adherents to an imperial faith, but merely one sect living alongside other Christian sects. In this context, Abū Qurrah saw a great need to teach and write about how to defend and articulate the Christian doctrines against other sects and the Islamic religion.
Unfortunately, based on the available resources, Abū Qurrah’s biography is incomplete. However, several scholars—including Muslim scholars—mention Abū Qurrah’s writings and his defense of icon veneration. He is also known for his famous debate about the Christian religion at the council of the caliph al-Ma’mūn in Harrān in the year AD 829. This debate helped influence and shape clim al-kalām (Islamic theology) during the early Abbasid dynasty. Historians estimate that Abū Qurrah was about seventy-five years old when the debate took place, and they presume he died not long afterward.
THEODORE ABŪ QURRAH’S TRINITARIAN THEOLOGY/ARGUMENT
Like John of Damascus, Abū Qurrah had a great zeal for the Christian Chalcedonian faith, which led him to travel to several regions, debate Muslims, and endure persecution and demotion in his priesthood status. While he was busy in mission work, he did not neglect writing and teaching about the Trinity and many other doctrines. As an apologist, Abū Qurrah’s main purpose of his written work was to answer those who do not believe in Christianity, especially those who do not believe in the Trinity.
Christians can learn about God via Adam. Abū Qurrah writes little about the Trinity in his treatise Theologus Auttodidactus but thoroughly in On the Trinity. Theologus Auttodidactus seems to be a preparatory work to other treatises that he wrote. He uses the natural theology approach with those who are skeptical about the existence of God by recognizing that the cognitive faculties of human beings—reason, sense-perception, introspection—can be used to investigate theological matters. “While God is unseen through the likeness of our own nature’s virtues,” says Abū Qurrah, “Notwithstanding that God transcends and is contrary to our nature, our minds can see both Him and the attributes according to which He is to be worshipped.” He gives the analogy of a person looking into the mirror. While he cannot see his real face in the mirror but only its likeness, in a similar way, when he looks at his human nature, he also cannot see the nature of God and his attributes but only God’s likeness.
Given the difference between the divine and the human natures, human beings can still learn about the divine nature by observation and reflection. Abū Qurrah uses Adam as a representative of human nature. Adam’s nature and virtues allow theologians to see God and have true knowledge of him, despite the fact that God transcends human nature. Abū Qurrah believes that “when with our minds we examine Adam’s nature and observe its virtues, we can see God from it and have true knowledge of Him, for that nature is His likeness, notwithstanding that God transcends and is contrary to it.”
The gap between the human nature—represented by Adam—and the divine nature is wide. Adam has defects, whereas God does not. Adam exists today but tomorrow is gone. He is learned, wise, powerful, and living today, but tomorrow he is ignorant, unwise, weak, and dead. While Adam’s nature is changing and defected, God is not. He is perfect and much more transcendent, unlike human beings. “God is not comprehended through the defects of Adam’s nature, nor does God resemble Adam in those defects,” says Abū Qurrah, “It is only with regard to his virtues that Adam resembles God.” While Adam’s virtues can be attributed to God, his defects cannot, because God is holy and perfect. Adam’s virtues, however, are minor to the virtues of God, who is maximally greater than any human being. Because Adam acquires such virtues, we know that God does as well. It is just that God enjoys attributes and virtues in a greater and more transcendent way.
Answers to those who deny that the Father begets, and Jesus is begotten. In a similar fashion, Abū Qurrah uses Adam’s resemblance to answer those who deny that God begets a son. He explains that since “Adam begets and is head over one who is from him, He who caused him to beget and to be head must surely Himself beget and be head over One who resembles Him. Nonetheless, this is so in a transcendent and contrary manner.” Abū Qurrah believes that the ability to beget surpasses the inability to beget, and since he caused Adam to beget, then He himself should be able to beget and rule over others; otherwise, he is not the highest conceived God. Those who say that God is unable to beget are demeaning his divine nature.
Abū Qurrah does not neglect to mention that Adam’s begetting is different from God’s begetting. While Adam’s begetting of a son took place through a sexual relationship, God’s begetting of his Son and the procession of the Holy Spirit do not happen through sex and physical development but in a more transcendent way.
There are in Adam no virtues more noble or exalted than begetting and headship. After all, if Adam did not beget, he would have neither felicity of life, nor headship, nor speech, nor generosity, nor any of the other virtues attributed to him. His felicity of life would be with the pigs, asses, and other beasts—which is not felicity . . . it would not be headship but degradation and dishonor to be called the head of ticks, pigs, scarabs, and worms.
It is glory, honor, and exaltation when the headship is attributed to Adam over other human beings like him, not a humiliation or a deprivation of human nature. Thus, those who say that God cannot beget attribute deprivation of the divine nature because they make God rule over what is less than he is and unable to rule over what resembles him. Thus, among the many things the mind can infer from the likeness of Adam’s nature is that God is three persons: One who begets, another who is begotten, and another who proceeds. This belief does not necessarily undermine the divine nature or disrespect God.
Can God be one and three? In his treatise On the Trinity, Abū Qurrah discusses the topic of faith and reason, keeping in mind the variety of audiences he met along the way of his ministry. He knew that some of them were simple in receiving faith while others were more philosophically inclined. As Najib Awad points out, Abū Qurrah “believes that reason is faith’s caretaker, which reviews faith and preserves it. Reason is what enables one to investigate what she believes in and to discover its truth or falsehood. It is what guides one to the true faith, even if the content of that belief is not according to what our feelings like and our desires seek.” By acknowledging the fact that people are on different levels with their philosophical inquiry, Abū Qurrah continues with the Scripture explaining that Christians believe in Moses’ books and all the prophets of the Old Testament; therefore, the Trinity is not a new invention or a new belief that has been recently acquired. The Trinity is implied in the Old Testament. Several texts refer to two persons but do not call them two Lords. For instance, in Psalm 110:1, 3 the writer “called both the one who speaks ‘Lord’ and the one addressed ‘Lord,’ but did not count two lords.” Similarly, regarding Psalm 45:6-7, “do you not see that he mentions a God whose throne is forever and ever and says that this God has another God who anointed him? As for this anointed one, there can be no doubt for the wise that this is Christ.” Abū Qurrah believes that the Trinity is implied in the Old Testament, and many passages describe the Father as God, the Son as God, and the Holy Spirit as God; however, no writer calls them three gods.
After discussing the implication of the Trinity in the Old Testament, Abū Qurrah uses reason to explain this doctrine to those who like reasonable arguments. He realizes that one of the major philosophical errors that people commit is category errors; therefore, he explains the differences between logical and nonlogical names. Logical names indicate persons, such as Peter, Paul, and John; and nonlogical names indicate natures, such as man. The former may be many, while the latter is one. While Peter, Paul, and John are the names of three persons, the number three does not apply to the names; instead, it indicates their human persons. According to Abū Qurrah, it is correct to say that Peter is a man, Paul is a man, and John is a man, but it is not correct to say that Peter is mankind, Paul is mankind, or John is mankind. This concept is applied in a similar fashion when a person says, “God is one in three persons: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.” The Father is God, the Son is God, and the Holy Spirit is God, but God is not the Father, God is not the Son, and God is not the Holy Spirit. God is a name that indicates divine nature. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are names that indicate three divine Aqanīm (persons).
“Person” is a logical name and does not belong essentially to just one of them [persons of the Trinity]. Rather, the name “person” is predicated of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit . . . as well as of every other indivisible entity. The logical name was introduced solely that number might be applied to it, for it is not right for number to be applied to their common name, that by which their nature is named . . . otherwise, it would follow that there are different natures, as we have already said.
Logical names are meant to describe the name of the person, not his nature; therefore, they can be used in a plural form. However, it is not right to apply numbers/plurality to a particular nonlogical name; otherwise, “number will make each of the numbered entities to be all of them.” Abū Qurrah explains that “If you say, ‘Here, Peter, James, and John are three,’ you make each one to be the three of them [Peter is also James and John]. So also, if you say, ‘in heaven, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are three,’ you make each one to be the three of them.” The Christian trinitarian belief, however, does not believe that the Father is the Son and the Holy Spirit, but it indicates that there is unity in diversity and distinction in unification. While each of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is God, the Father is not the Son and the Holy Spirit. For this reason, it is necessary to apply logical names to persons, “and that we say that Peter, James, and John are three persons, but that the name ‘man’ remain singular, neither diffused nor multiplied.”
Abū Qurrah discuss another reason why Christians do not apply plurality to the divine essence by explaining to his audience a philosophical/mathematical principle of plurality. Human beings are counted as many because they are divided in place, will, and state. However, those who are many, but agree in the will or place, are to be counted as one. The three men—Peter, James, and John—are divided in terms of place, will, and state; therefore, it is correct to count them as many. “As for the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,” says Abū Qurrah, “not one is in a place that the others are not in, not one has a form that the others do not have; and the same holds for will and state.” Therefore, they are one, and it is wrong to account them as many. What applies to human beings does not necessarily apply to God.
To illustrate this principle more thoroughly, Abū Qurrah offers several trinitarian examples. He depicts the Trinity as three lamps shining in a dark house. “The light of each is dispersed in the whole house, and the eye cannot distinguish the light of one from the light of the others or the light of all from the light of one. So also, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are one God, even though each is fully God.” In the second example, Abū Qurrah asks his reader to imagine three men standing and reciting a poem while the reader is outside listening. “You hear only a single poem,” says Abū Qurrah, “but you do not doubt that each of them recited the complete poem, nor could you say, ‘I heard three poems.’ This is the case even if in the voices of the men there is some difference.” Finally, the last example is related to three pieces of gold. Abū Qurrah states, “If three pieces of pure gold were placed before you, you would say that each of the three is fully gold and would not say that the three are three golds, but rather that they are one gold.” Abū Qurrah uses this example to emphasize that it is inappropriate for a number to predicate the name of the nature of God and to say that the three persons of the Trinity (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit) are three gods, even though that each one of them is fully God.
Answering objections. Abū Qurrah anticipates several objections to his explanation. Some may ask, “Was it three or one that created the world? If you say three, they consider this loathsome. If you say one, they consider the other two hypostases nullified.” Abū Qurrah believes that the answer should be “one that created the world.” In his opinion, this answer does not prevent the other hypostases/Aqanīm from being creators nor nullifies them. To prove his point, Abū Qurrah offers a few more examples. When a person says, “Moses speaking the truth,” it is right to think that Moses spoke the truth or the tongue of Moses spoke the truth, but it is not right to think that Moses and his tongue spoke the truth because Moses spoke through his tongue. The same concept is applied to the sun and its rays lighting a room, a person seeing another person with her eyes, a carpenter making a door with his hands, and a king and his son striking a person. It is not right in each case to think both have done it (the sun and its rays lighting the room, the person and her eyes seeing another person, a carpenter and his hand making a door, and the king and his son striking a person), but it is right to say that each one separately has acted. Abū Qurrah offers these examples to imply that the Father created the world and the Son created the world. However, it is not right to think that the Father and the Son created the world separately, for the Father created the world through his Son.
Abū Qurrah addresses another objection to the Trinity that non-Christians believe leave Christians with a dilemma. Non-Christians might ask, “Do you deny every God other than the Father? Do you deny every God other than the Son? Do you deny every God other than the Holy Spirit?” If the Christian says, “I deny every God other than the Son,” they respond, “The Father and the Holy Spirit, then, must not be God.” If, however, the Christian says, “I do not deny every God other than Christ,” they respond, “you have, then, multiple gods.” Abū Qurrah points to another error non-Christians commit when they ask, “Do you deny every God other than Christ?” The questioners have a different assumption about the meaning of the word Christ. They are not asking about Jesus’ hypostasis but about his nature. “The name ‘God’ is not distinct to Christ to the exclusion of the Father and the Spirit. The name ‘God’ is the name of a nature, not a hypostasis.” If a Christian affirms she believes in the gospel presented to her, that does not mean other gospels are not full gospels, “for the gospel through which the Holy Spirit speaks is one. Similarly, you say, ‘I deny every God other than Christ,’ but your words do not entail that the father and the Holy Spirit cease being each a full God.” Moreover, the same error is applied when a person is asked which image is his when he looks into a plate that has three mirrors. Abū Qurrah explains that the face is one thing, and the countenance of the person is another. Each person has one face only, and denying the procurance of another image is not denying the image in each of the mirrors.
Abū Qurrah uses a third example to clarify the false presupposition that assumes that to deny every God other than Christ is to deny that the Father and the Holy Spirit are God. A person admires another person’s countenance and decides to draw it fully on three pieces of paper. Should the person whose image was drawn deny every other countenance? Abū Qurrah thinks the answer should be “yes, except for the one drawn on this piece of paper [the paper that the artist used].” This is not to deny that the painted countenance on each of the other pieces of paper is the same countenance. However, when the person points out or asks about the countenance drawn on this particular piece of paper, he does not mean the particular drawing (the lines, curves, and dots), but the essence of the person’s countenance (dark complexion, black eyes, and aquiline nose)—despite the fact the questioner was pointing with his hand to the lines of the image. The same holds to the affirmative answer to the question: “Do you deny every God other than Christ?” To answer yes does not mean to deny that the Father and the Holy Spirit are God, “for even though the questioner is hinting at Christ with his words, it is not Christ himself that he means when he names ‘God,’ but the nature of Christ, to which the name ‘God’ refers.”
A trinitarian answer to the Muslims. Abū Qurrah affirms the divine simplicity doctrine, which allows no composition in the divine nature to illustrate the Trinity to Muslims. Combining the Qur’anic illustration of Jesus being the word and the Spirit of God with John of Damascus’s conundrum, he asks the Muslim this question: has God ever been without his word and his Spirit? The Muslim is compelled to answer negatively; otherwise, she will make God mute or dead. Abū Qurrah introduces a follow-up question: Is the divine word and his Spirit part of God? If the Muslim answers affirmatively, she then ascribes parts to the divine essence, which is proscribed in Islam because it introduces composition to the divine nature. However, if the Muslim answers negatively, then the Christian belief is right. Abū Qurrah states,
God and his word and his Spirit are one God even as a person and that person’s word and spirit are one person. . . . The Son is to God as a person’s word is to that person, and the Spirit is to God as a person’s spirit is to that person, even though the Word of God is God and the Spirit of God is God—and this, because of how exalted the divine nature is above composition and the like.
The divine simplicity doctrine was emphasized in early Christianity, and it is consistent with the doctrine of tawḥīd, which emphasizes the oneness of God in a numerical sense. Abū Qurrah saw similarities between the two doctrines and used them as an analogy to illustrate the Trinity.
YAḤYA IBN cADĪ (AD 893–974)
Though most now know him as Yaḥya Ibn Adī, his full name is Abū Zakariyya (his son’s name) Yaḥya Ibn cAdī Ibn Hamid (his father’s name) Ibn Zakariyya’ (his grandfather’s name). He was born in AD 893 to a Jacobite/Monophysite Christian family. He was born in Tikrit, which was the seat of the Jacobite bishopric from the fourth century until the middle of the twentieth century, when the diocese was combined with the one in al-Mosul. He received his education in Baghdad under famous logicians, such as Abu Bishr Matta Ibn Yūnus (AD 940), who was a Nestorian, and Abū Nasr al-Farabī (AD 950), who was a Muslim. Muslim scholars such as Al-Bayhaqī and al-Mascūdī state that Yaḥya was the most prominent disciple of al-Farabī. He earned the title of al-Mantiqī (the logician) by his Muslim peers.
Most scholars during the tenth and eleventh centuries were not only philosophers, but they made a living as physicians, teachers, scribes, translators, or booksellers. Yaḥya himself was not a monk; therefore, he needed to find other sources for self-support. He earned a living as a professional copyist and a bookseller, a career that he may have inherited from his father, cAdi Ibn Hamid. Ibn al-Nadīm tells a story about Yaḥya spending too much time copying manuscripts. Yaḥya replies, “Wherefore now do you wonder at my patience? In my own handwriting I have transcribed two copies of the commentary of al-Ṭabarī, which I have taken to the kings of distant regions. I have transcribed so many books of the theologians that they cannot be counted. It is my agreement with myself that I should copy a hundred leaves every day and night, which I feel to be too little.” His passion as a copyist might not only be because of a financial need but also because of his hunger and curiosity to gain more knowledge.
In addition to philosophy, Yaḥya learned medicine from the famous doctor al-Razī (AD 925); however, it is not known whether he practiced it or was counted as a physician. After the death of his master Matta Ibn Yūnus in AD 940, and with the absence of his master al-Fārabī (AD 950), who left Baghdad and traveled to study in Syria and Egypt, Yaḥya became the new leader of philosophical studies in Baghdad. He had accumulated several pupils and spent much time teaching and writing about religions and philosophy. In his school, Yaḥya instructed both Muslim and Christian students. Among his famous Muslim disciples were al-Sijistānī (AD 1001), ‘Isa Ibn cAlī Muhammad al-Badihī (AD 990), and Abū Hayyān al-Tawḥīdī (AD 1023); and among his Christian students were Ibn Zurca (AD 1008), al-Ḥasan Ibn Siwār (AD 1017), Ibn al-Khammar (d. AD 1017), Abu ‘Ali al-Samh (AD 1027), and Naẓīf Ibn Yomin—all who hailed from different backgrounds and denominations (Melkites, Jacobites, and Nestorians). He also had a Jewish pupil, Wahab bin Thaqīf al-Rumī, and a Sabian student, Abu Isḥāq al-Sabī’ī.
Yaḥya left many writings related to logic, naturalism, math, metaphysics, kalām arguments, ethics, and Christian theology. The first group of his writings was a philosophical translation of Aristotle, Plato, and their followers. He translated many books from Syriac to Arabic and focused especially on Aristotle’s Organon and Physics. He and his pupils even compared, corrected, refined, and added their own writings and translations. His philosophical discourses include Tahdhīb al-Akhlāq (The Refinement of Character) and Maqāla fī Siyasa al-Nafs (A Discourse on the Management of the Soul). The second group of his writings includes several discourses concerning Christian philosophy. Samīr Khalīl lists nineteen treatises in his introduction to Al-Turāth al-cArabī al-Massīḥī (Arabic Christian Heritage), a book that belongs to Yaḥya; however, this chapter will focus on Maqāla fī al-Tawḥīd (Treatise in Tawḥīd).
YAḤYA IBN cADĪ’S TRINITARIAN ARGUMENT
Yaḥya was aware of the Islamic objections to the Trinity as well as his peers’ writings and teachings about this doctrine. As a philosopher, he saw a great need to explain, defend, and answer the Islamic objections to the Christian concept of the unity and oneness of God without mentioning or attacking the Islamic concept of tawḥīd. His philosophical defense is of a unique nature. According to Samīr Khalīl, Yaḥya might not be the first philosopher who has written about the oneness of God, but he is the first to target and expand on this topic.
Yaḥya makes his defense in several treatises and books. Because of the limited space and the nature of the study, this book will concentrate on Maqala fi al-Tawhid [Treatise in Divine Unity] and his answer to al-Warrāq, which was compiled and presented in Nadine Abbas’s book Nathariyat al-Tawhid wa al-Tathleeth of Yaḥya Ibn Adi fi Kitabihi ‘al-Rad ‘Ala al- Warrāq’ [Yaḥya Ibn cAdī’s Philosophical Theory of Monotheism and Tri-theism in his book The reply to al-Warrāq’]. In his treatise, Yaḥya focuses on the term wāḥid (one), which both Muslims and Christians use to express their beliefs in the oneness of God. He presents a philosophical explanation of the term, when it can and cannot be used to describe the divine oneness of God. In his answer to al-Warrāq, Yaḥya focuses on the logical objection to the Trinity. He explains that it is not a logical mistake to believe that God is one substance and three Aqanīm because the “one” can be one in one sense and three in a different sense. This section of the study will start with Yaḥya’s treatise Maqala fi al-Tawhid [Treatise in Divine Unity] to establish the philosophical meaning of the term wāḥid. Then it will move to Yaḥya’s answer to al-Warrāq to explain the Trinity.
Relying on Aristotelian philosophy and moving away from theology and biblical studies, Yaḥya analyzes the different meanings of the word wāḥid. He does not only discuss the oneness of God in terms of its logical sense—how should wāḥid be understood in terms of logical or linguistic analysis—but also in terms of the correct understanding of the divine unity. Yaḥya strives to show that in one aspect, the Creator is one; but in another aspect, he is multiple. Influenced by his teacher al-Farābī, Yaḥya presents different meanings of the word wāḥid, which vary based on context. Something/someone can be described as wāḥid based on its jins (genus), nawc (species), nisba (relation), muttaṣil (continuum), ḥadd (definition or limitation), or ghayr munqasim (indivisibility). Yaḥya demonstrates that al-Bari’ (another name that Arab Muslims and Christians use to describe Allah/God, meaning Creator) cannot be wāḥid in genus, species, relation, or continuum because they require either the existence of others or a causal connection to exist. However, God is the uncaused cause of everything. He has nothing that caused him, but he is the cause of every other existence. Thus, anything that is caused by another or has any causal connection for its existence cannot be God.
Al-Bari’ cannot also be understood as a negation of divisibility (in either an existing or a nonexisting object) or the principle of all divisible things. Regarding the negation of divisibility, wāḥid is like the quality of the thing under description—such as its color or its taste—not its quantity. These qualities cannot be divisible. As for the meaning of the principle of all divisible things, wāḥid can be understood in two ways: by its substance or by its accident. An example of by its substance would be the point/dot and the unit. It is one and indivisible by nature, but there can be many of them. An example of by accident would be wāḥid cannot be the principle of all divisible things because accidents are caused by other causes.
Since none of the previous meanings of wāḥid can be applied to al-Bari’, Yaḥya strives to show which aspect of the wāḥid is applicable—the meaning that can be used to describe God. According to Yaḥya, al-Bari’ is wāḥid in action, substance, and subject.
First, al-Bari’ is wāḥid in action, but not in power. Whatever exists, exists either by action or by power. “If it exists by power,” Yaḥya says, “Then every power is directed toward an action, and every power needs—in egress what is in it toward an action—another cause to egress. This necessarily makes the cause caused and this is impossible.” The power needs an action to be consummated; therefore, it cannot be uncaused cause, and if the oneness of God is not in power, then it should necessarily be in action. Second, al-Bari’ is wāḥid in substance. “If it is thought of wāḥid in multiple senses,” says Yaḥya, “Then the unity applies by necessity because wāḥid from each multiplicity does exist; this is to say that the existence of multiplicity and its substance is a compound union.” Everything exists by its substance, whether it is one or multiple. Last, al-Bari’ is wāḥid in subject as long as the subject reflects the definition of wāḥid and represents its substance.
According to Yaḥya, wāḥid could be understood in different senses; however, a person can discuss the oneness of God only if he has the correct definition of wāḥid. When describing Allah, scholars assume different meanings of the term wāḥid. Some use it to negate multiplicity, others mean it as “the One who has no one like him,” and others use it to convey a strictly numerical sense—one person/one divine being. In Yaḥya’s opinion, the previous different meanings of the term wāḥid break several laws of logic; and therefore, they do not necessarily apply to God.
Yaḥya accuses those who define God as al-Wāḥīd to convey the idea that “there is no one like him” with committing the equivocation fallacy—that is, using similar words to convey opposite meanings. People use the word Wāḥīd to refer both to God and to mawjūd (the existing thing/creation). For instance, people say we have Wāḥīd moon (one moon) in the universe as they say we have Wāḥīd (one) God in the universe. Yaḥya’s logical argument goes as follows: If wāḥid means no one is like God, then mawjūd (the existing thing/creation) is not like him. This makes God not equivalent to mawjūd and mawjūd not equivalent to God in the same respect and aspect. If wāḥid (God) is not equivalent to wāḥid (not God, but other existing things), then wāḥid is not equivalent to wāḥid. This makes the existence of wāḥid mean that he is not equivalent to the thing that is not equivalent. This makes the two wāḥids (that are equivalent and similar things at least in word formation) not equivalent and not similar, and this cannot be because two things that are parallel and similar to each other (wāḥid and wāḥid) cannot not be (but should be) similar or equivalent in some aspects, but not different in all aspects. Put in a simpler way, Yaḥya tries to show that people can use the same words with different meanings and respects depending on context.
Whereas some people say wāḥid means “there is no one like God,” others might say, wāḥid (God) is “the opposite to all that describes human beings.” No attribute of God is similar to human attributes. Yaḥya shows that this understanding of wāḥid is wrong because it makes God identical to his creation, with the exception of human beings. “Some of the attributes of being a human being,” says Yaḥya, “are that he is not a dominant, not a mare, not a plant, not eternal, is different from every accident, totally different from all that exist except another human being. So, it is necessary that none of these attributes should be applied to wāḥid.” Yaḥya continues,
If none of these negative attributes apply to wāḥid, then it is necessary to apply the positive attributes that are opposite to it. . . . So, wāḥid is not not a plant, but a plant; is not not a quantity, but a quantity; is not not a modality, but a modality . . . in total, since God is not different from all that exists, except another human being, he is necessarily everything that exists, with the exception of not being a human being.
Yaḥya’s explanation can be demonstrated in the following equations:
God is not a human being
Human being is not a plant
God is not (not a plant)
——————————————————
Therefore, God is a plant.
The concept of wāḥid (the opposite of all that describes human beings) denies that the attributes of human beings are similar to the attributes of wāḥid (God), and this denial makes wāḥid identical to his creations, but not a human being. This aspect of wāḥid must not apply to God because God is not a created being, and he is not part of creation.
By describing God as wāḥid in the sense that “there is no one like him,” Yaḥya wanted to stress the idea that wāḥid should be understood as “there is nothing except him that is similar and equivalent to all his attributes and epithets.” It is wrong to say that nothing is similar to God because similarity does not necessarily require parallelism/identification. There are no two similar things/persons that are identical in all their attributes. If two things/persons are similar, it is necessary that they do not match. They are similar in one aspect, but they are not identical, nor do all their attributes match up. Therefore, using the term wāḥid to describe God in the sense that “there is nothing like him” in an ultimate sense is wrong.
In the next section of his treatise, Yaḥya moves to explain the meanings of wāḥid that are applicable to God. He argues that wāḥid could be one in one sense and multiple in a different sense. The numerical nature of wāḥid is not the only sense of the oneness. While it is impossible for wāḥid to be multiple in genus, species, relation, continuum, and indivisibility, wāḥid can be multiple in action (not in power), in substance (not by accident), and in definition (not subject). In order to explain this multiplicity, Yaḥya discusses the attributes of al-Bari’—the attributes that may be predicated of the divine essence. Al-Bari’s attributes can be deduced from his creation because his essence is hidden, but his effect on the creation is evident from his activity. Since God is the creator, every existing being/thing exists because of a cause. As stated earlier, no created thing (individual or material) exists in this world without a cause. God is the cause of every created thing and the only uncaused cause. Being the uncaused cause and the cause of every existent being shows his omnipotence. Furthermore, God caused other things to exist voluntarily because there is no other cause that forced God to create his creation. All that exists came into being out of nothing. All that was once non-existent came into existence because of God’s power, and he had no other cause beside himself to create this creation. Thus, it is reasonable to say, “since He was existent before these came into being, the spontaneous and voluntary act of creation reveals His bounty.” His omnipotence and his bounty are manifested in his power to create what exists and to choose not to create what does not exist. In a similar way, his wisdom is manifested in the order and the perfection of His work. He created everything to work together and to sustain itself in a very amazing way. These three essential attributes (al-jūd [bounty], al-Qudra [power], and al-ḥikma [wisdom]) can be derived from his activities in creation—especially that his essence is hidden from human beings, but his effect in creation is manifested through his activities. Yaḥya used the three attributes of God to depict the idea that wāḥid can be one in one sense and multiple in a different sense. God is wāḥid in being and multiple in attributes.
Like Abū Qurrah, Yaḥya faced several objections from Muslim scholars. In his reply to Abū cīsā al-Warrāq and the dilemmas he presented against the Trinity, Yaḥya uses different arguments to show that God can be one in one sense and multiple in different sense. He interprets the persons of the Trinity as symbolic representations of Aristotelian ideas: the Father symbolizes al-caql (the intellect), the Son symbolizes al- cāqil (the intellectually cognizing subject), and the Spirit symbolizes al-macaqūl (the intellectually cognized object). According to Abbas, when Yaḥya says “the essence cognizes with its substance all that exist,” he means:
He cognizes its substance because he is one of things that exist. When He cognizes his substance, He becomes al- cāqil [the intellectually cognizing subject] to his substance, and al-macaqūl [the intellectually cognized object] to his substance. Then, al-caql becomes the substance of mere intellect (which is the intellect’s essence) which is available in three statuses: the status of substance by itself without any other meanings—cāqil or macaqūl; and a status where it is cāqil (the cognizing subject), and a status where it is macaqūl (the cognized object).
Yaḥya considers the essence of the intellect by itself the reason for the existence of the other two statuses: the object and the subject of the intellect. The reason behind his understanding lies in the fact that each one of them cannot be depicted without the intellect’s essence (al-caql). The intellect cognizing itself (al-caqil be cāqilan) cannot happen without existing of himself or the existing of the cognized object (macaqūlan). The act of God cognizing himself makes him the essence and the intellect, which is the subject (because he cognized), and the object (which is himself) at the same time.
Yaḥya’s language equates essence (jawhar) and substance (dhāt). He does not use the word essence in a plural form because he believes in divine simplicity—God does not have three parts/essences. Yaḥya instead uses the term Aqānīm in reference to the substances or the meanings of the three persons of the Trinity. Each of the substances/Aqānīm has its own essence (secondary essence/substance).
In order to understand Yaḥya’s language, Abbas makes a distinction between essence and substance to differentiate between primary essence and secondary essence. The latter is the special substance of the Father, not the one related to the Son or the Spirit; whereas the former is the one that belong to all the Aqānīm. Yaḥya wanted to show from the formulation of al-caql, al- cāqil, al-macaqūl that the existence of the Father necessitates the existence of the Son and the Spirit. As the existence of the intellect cognizing itself necessitates the existence of al- cāqil (the intellectually cognizing subject) and al-macaqūl (the intellectually cognized object), so does the existence of the Father necessitate the existence of the Son and the Spirit.
To summarize Yaḥya’s standpoint, the Father, the Son, and the Spirit are eternally omnipotent and wise, but the Father is not the Son and not the Spirit. The Father is the mūlid of (the one who begets—in the sense of cause) the Son and the source of the Spirit (by procession), especially that the Son is begotten, and the Spirit proceeds from the Father. Moreover, the fatherhood of the Father is from the substance of the Father, not necessarily from the substance of the Son or the Spirit. According to Abbas, the Father is Father because of the Son. The similarity among them is the cause. As the intellect cognizes itself and becomes the cause of the meaning of the intellectually cognizing subject and the intellectually cognized object, the Father is the cause of the birth of the Son and the procession of the Spirit. Applying this concept to the Trinity makes God one in one sense (one in essence) and multiple in different sense (multiple in substances—or Aqanīm). The concept of unity and multiplicity in different senses is not a contradiction. It just shows God as one divine being who can have multiple substances, roles, and attributes. Aqānīm can be distinct from each other without having different essences.
CONCLUSION
The previous discussion presents great arguments that call for deeper research. The three scholars used different methods. John and Abū Qurrah’s methodologies were theological, whereas Yaḥya’s method was philosophical. Despite the different backgrounds of the three scholars (Chalcedonian and Jacobite), all of them agreed on the definition of the Trinity: one divine being manifested in three hypostases/Aqanīm. Their agreement shows that all orthodox Christians agree upon the description, the functions, and the role of the Aqanīm, which do not match their corresponding human description—they are not like people.
John, Abū Qurrah, and Yaḥya share several common points between Christianity and Islam in order to start their arguments or to solve a problem at hand. For instance, John and Abū Qurrah’s starting point regarding the incomprehensibility of God is a shared point among Christianity and Islam. They both admit that God cannot be fully known because of the limitations of human beings. Moreover, while the topic of oneness in Christianity and Islam is mutually believed, it is also a point of tension. Muslims do not understand the trinitarian concept of God nor classify it under theism, which leads them to accuse Christians of worshiping three gods or being Mushrikūn. The three scholars were aware of this misunderstanding, so they prioritized the defense of God’s oneness over the divine unity of the three hypostases/Aqanīm.
Despite the different backgrounds of John, Abū Qurrah, and Yaḥya (Chalcedonian and Monophysite), the three scholars use the word Aqanīm to describe the three persons of the Trinity, which is still a common practice among Arab theologians today. The three scholars defend the Eastern model of the Trinity—the anti-filioque model; however, they also explain the relational aspect of the nature of God differently. While they affirm the fatherhood of the Father, the sonship of Jesus, and the procession of the Holy Spirit, they show that the intrarelationship of the Aqanīm is unique to the divine nature because it cannot happen without their roles. The Father is called Father because he has a son; the son is a son because he is born of the Father; and the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father showing how the three Aqanīm are living in an eternal relational existence with each other.
John, Abū Qurrah, and Yaḥya shared two main themes while defending the Trinity: the divine oneness and God’s attributes. The divine oneness is a crucial topic that is often misunderstood by Muslims. Many Eastern fathers prioritized defending the divine oneness over the eternal relationship of the Aqanīm because of the Islamic accusation of being Mushrikūn. John relies mostly on the Scripture to show that Christians believe in one God—one divine being, one Godhead, one virtue, one will, one operation, one principality, one power, one domination, and one kingdom. John uses the concept of the oneness of God in a numerical sense, which is similar to the Muslims’ understanding and their description of Allah as wāḥid—one being.
Abū Qurrah also depends on Scripture to show Muslims that the Trinity is not a newly invented doctrine. It was implied in the Old Testament. He does not stop here, but he proceeds to explain the linguistic aspect of the doctrine by using the distinction between logical and nonlogical names. The former indicates persons such as Peter, Paul, and John, and the latter implies nature. While it is correct to say that Peter is a man, Paul is a man, and John is a man, it is not correct to say that Peter is mankind, Paul is mankind, or John is mankind. In a similar manner, the Father is God, the Son is God, and the Holy Spirit is God, but God is not the Father, God is not the Son, and God is not the Holy Spirit. God is a name that indicates divine nature; and Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are names that indicate three divine Aqanīm. Yaḥya does not rely directly on the Scripture; however, he uses the linguistic argument. He discusses the different meanings of the term wāḥid to teach that the divine being is one in one sense and multiple in a different sense, and this is not a contradiction. The logical argument for the Trinity indicates that plurality within the unity is possible in the creation and in the Godhead. The numerical sense of wāḥid is not the only way to understand this term. There are many other different senses of the term wāḥid that can be applied in creation but not to the divine nature. While wāḥid in the sense of genus, species, relation, continuum, and indivisibility cannot be applied to God, wāḥid in the sense of action, substance, and definition is applicable. Thus, thinking of God in one sense (the numerical sense) is not rationally correct.
The attributes of God represent an important topic shared by Christianity and Islam. Scholars cannot study the nature of God without discussing God’s attributes. While Muslims affirm that Allah has ninety-nine beautiful names/attributes, they disagree on the list of these names and many of their meanings. Muslims who follow the doctrine of Bilā kayfa are unable to answer many questions related to the morality of Allah because they confirm that Allah’s attributes are not like humans’ attributes, and Allah cannot be described in a non-Qur’anic way. However, by discussing God’s attributes, John, Abū Qurrah, and Yaḥya were able to show that he is maximally good through the doctrine of the Trinity.
John, Abū Qurrah, and Yaḥya discuss the topic in three different ways. While John infers the attributes of God from Scripture and tradition, Abū Qurrah and Yaḥya believe that God’s attributes can be deduced from creation. The first attribute discussed is the omnibenevolence of God. The maximally good God in Christianity is shown in different ways. John mentions several attributes. He believes that God is uncreated, eternal, uncircumscribed, unchanging, the source of goodness and justice, and so on. These divine attributes are shared with Muslims; however, some of them are related to the triune nature of God more than others. John, for instance, comments on God’s omnibenevolence by attributing goodness to God’s essence (not his will, as Muslims do). This distinction makes God maximally good and the source of all goodness. He is the very source of being for all things that exist and the cause of all good things. Being maximally good (omnibenevolence) is reflected in the way God treats his creation and the way he relates to evil in this world. When the goodness of God is ascribed to his essence, his will and power shown in creation will follow.
Abū Qurrah believes that people can learn about God’s attributes by observing Adam’s virtues. While Adam’s defects cannot teach about God, his virtues can do so by affirming the gap between human nature and divine nature. Whatever virtues Adam possesses (bounty, goodness, wisdom, etc.), God possesses in a greater, multiple, and more transcendental manner. Through the virtues of Adam, people can imagine God being maximally good and greater than all human beings. Yaḥya believes that God’s essence is hidden, but his effect on creation is evident from his activity. The three essential attributes of God are his bounty, his power, and his wisdom. The three attributes are extrapolated from his creation and show his goodness. His omnipotence and his bounty are manifested in his power to create what exists and of his choice not to create what does not exist. Similarly, his wisdom is manifested in the order and the perfection of his work. Whether the omnibenevolence of God is extracted from the Scripture or from creation, it is related to the essence of God. If God is maximally good, then his nature (whether triune or oneness) should reflect his goodness.
The omnipotence of God is another attribute that is shared between Christianity and Islam. Abū Qurrah emphasizes the omnipotence of God by focusing on the Trinity. He states that begetting surpasses the inability to beget. Any denial of the Father being able to beget undermines the omnipotence of God. Yaḥya, on the other hand, does not link his formula of al-caql, al- cāqil, al-macaqūl to God’s omnipotence because he talks about God’s power separately. However, being the only being who can apply this formula shows his great power. Yaḥya’s formulation moves beyond the roles of the Aqanīm to the reason behind the existence of each Uqnūm. The existence of the intellect cognizing itself necessitates the existence of al- cāqil (the intellectually cognizing subject) and al-macaqūl (the intellectually cognized object). The existence of the Father necessitates the existence of the Son and the Spirit. No other being can accomplish this formula because all other beings need external beings to serve as the subject and the object. The Trinity is the only model that shows God not needing otherness outside his being in order to be able to conceive. As the intellect cognizes itself and becomes the cause of the meaning of the intellectually cognizing subject and the intellectually cognized object, the Father is the cause of begetting the Son and the procession of the Spirit. He does not need any other being to be able to achieve this formula.
The last attribute that is related to the doctrine of the Trinity is the immutability of God. This attribute means that God does not change in his character or nature, unlike his creation. Unlike God, a human father was not a father before having his son. In fact, he became a father when he had a son. The heavenly Father has always been a Father because there was no time when the Father was not a Father and the Son did not exist. The relationship between the Father and the Son is mutual, simultaneous, and has no beginning or end; therefore, it is unchanging. Furthermore, John brings to the attention of his readers that the Son of God is God’s word. God is not wordless, and he has never been without his word at any point in history. Thus, it is correct to think of God being the communicator. His word was always with him and in him; and later on, it was revealed to humanity. What makes his word different from our language, is that our words are perishable and changeable, whereas he is unchanging and eternal. The Trinity works as a great model to potentially present the unchanging nature of God. If God’s nature is subject to change, then God can improve and develop. At one point, he cannot do something and at another point, he can do it. The changing nature of God connotes progressive development within the divine essence; therefore, it is rejected totally in Christianity.