God Has No Right Arm

Drawing by Paul Mathers.

Astrophysicists recently took a photo of the black hole at the center of the Milky Way. But that is a paradoxical way to describe it. No one can photograph a black hole because it’s a void where space-time rules cease to apply. The picture actually shows super-heated material around the black hole, with the void at the center. To identify the black hole, you take a picture of whatever isn’t in the void.

The idea that God is simple is like that photo. It is one of the most difficult truths for us to understand. It takes us into the alternate reality of God’s being, which we can only discuss using negative terms. Simplicity is the principle that God has no parts. He is not a composite being. If it were possible to take a photo of God, it would not look like Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel in space, but more like the black hole. We could photograph everything around God, things made of parts, but God himself would not appear.

I am a composite being.

For example, I have two arms and two legs. But those aren’t the end of my parts. Consider just my right arm. Underneath the skin (one part) are bones (another set of parts). The joining of bones at my elbow creates a mechanism that can move. There more bones in my wrist and hand, creating more moving parts. Where my shoulder joins my arm, there are even more mechanisms.

And there are other parts underneath my skin, soft tissue like muscles, blood vessels, and nerves.

I am not simple. Consider how much this reality limits me.

When I play the violin, my right hand holds the bow, moving it across the strings. The fingers of my left hand stop the strings to create pitches, and that’s where most people focus. But the right hand and arm are just as involved in making music, if not more. The right hand actually generates the sounds—loud or soft, thick or thin, bright or dark, short or long.

Violinists are painfully aware of how much can go wrong with the right arm. Tension radiates up and down, usually unconsciously. As you work to get the left hand to play in tune, your right shoulder might elevate, locking all the joints down to the wrist. If that happens, people might hear the shrieking cat sound they know and love, the noise of a string being pressed too hard. Or, if the muscles lock at the elbow or at the index finger, the bow will start to bounce and jiggle.

All the parts within my right arm have to coordinate flexibly for the bow to pull a clear, resonant voice from the strings. My parts have to move as if they were one.

To call God simple is to say that he has none of these limitations.

1. God is not dependent on another power or force to hold together. The parts of my right arm are held together by the information in my DNA, among other things. God is not just a more coordinated being whose parts move perfectly. If he were, then the power holding God together would be greater than God. That would be absurd.

2. God does not have conflicts between parts. He is not trying to resolve tension in the various components of his right arm. His presence, his thoughts, and his actions are one. Where I have to manage conflicts between my mind’s conscious intentions and my muscles’ unconscious resistance, God has no such limitations. When I play the violin, I am imitating God’s unity, but I am nothing like him.

We know that every creature in the universe is made of parts, which are bound together by powers greater than they, and which often conflict with each other. That’s the only reality we can relate to. So, the Bible uses figures of speech referring to God’s right arm as a way to express his power. But the most basic truth we know about God is that he has no right arm. He has no bones or muscles, nor does he have aspects of his personality, tendencies to behave this way or that, or conflicting motivations. These limitations do not apply. This picture of God’s being only appears negatively, like the black hole inside a halo of hot particles.

Why is the principle of God’s simplicity significant for us?

Our highest purpose as creatures is to worship him. His oneness is the great power that unifies our beings, holding our parts together with health and integrity. That is why the greatest commandment (Deuteronomy 6.4-5) is worded this way: “Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one. And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might.”