Divine Simplicity

Simplicity has been on my mind the past few days, as I craved moments of solitude, cat cuddles, and a nice cup of tea amid writing deadlines and the busyness of working full time in ministry.

This past week, Ben gave a talk to a group of people on the Trinity and as I tried to grasp every word he said (the way one tries to grasp at something intangible yet life-giving, like a gentle breeze), I was struck between the eyes at a point classical philosophers and theologians made about God.

God is simple.

His very being is that of utter simplicity. He cannot be broken down into parts. He just is.

Love and Mercy. Beauty, Truth, and Goodness. It is not what He is made of, it is what He is.

But He seems so complex to us humans. He is shrouded in mystery and no matter how hard I try, He is unable to be fully comprehended by me. But that is more because of my own nature, than His.

I complicate things.

I try to fit God into this silly man-made mold of what I think He should be. I try to re-create God and make Him live by my terms.

I look for caveats in Mercy.

I look for reasons to believe that Goodness isn’t so good after all.

I look for Him in the Earthquake, and the fire, but He comes as a still small voice.

I look for Him among the crowds of people and noisy spaces, but He dwells in a nighttime garden or is asleep on a boat.

I try to do everything, and do it all by myself because, dammit that must have been what He meant when He said: “Follow me.”

But in all simplicity, all He really asked me to do was love.