Aquinas on the Simplicity of God

The following is an excerpt from a small reflection essay for my Medieval theology course tomorrow.  We each were assigned aspects of Thomas Aquinas' theology, and I got Divine Simplicity.  Enjoy!



Simplicity, if misconstrued, can become a fairly ironic moniker for God.  In the introduction to his beautiful biography of Thomas Aquinas, G. K. Chesterton wrote, reminiscing that “A lady I knew picked up a book of selections from St. Thomas, with a commentary; and began hopefully to read a section with the innocent heading, The Simplicity of God.  She then laid the book down with a sigh and said: ‘Well, if that’s His simplicity, I wonder what His complexity is like.’”[1]
            Simplicity is the doctrine that there is, roughly speaking, no composition of any kind in God.  He is not made up of more basic “bits,” nor is he an amalgamation of parts, nor can he be divided, nor is he made up of matter at all.  At first blush this doctrine seems esoteric and abstruse, a ghost or relic wandering the arid scholastic wastes.  Indeed it has always had a litany of critics.  In our own century it has fallen by the wayside.  Particularly acidic are the comments of Emil Brunner and Karl Barth.  Says Brunner, “Anyone who knows the history of the development of the doctrine of God in ‘Christian’ theology…will never cease to marvel at the unthinking way in which theologians adopted the postulates of philosophical speculation…and at the amount of harm this has done the ‘Christian’ doctrine of God,”; and perhaps even harsher though less verbose, Barth in his Dogmatics claimed that Simplicity  “was ... exalted to the all-controlling principle, the idol ... devouring everything concrete.”[2]
            On inspection, however, it would be difficult (or, impossible) to accuse Aquinas of merely applying simplicity “unthinkingly,” though without the pejorative connotations Barth seems at least partially correct that it could indeed be seen as a controlling principle in Aquinas’ thought.  In fact Jay Wesley Richards notes that along the course of Aquinas’ thought Simplicity pushes further and further toward the front of his works, until it receives its final position front and center at the beginning of Q. 3 in the prima pars of the Summa Theologia, suggesting perhaps that the more he thought about it, the more Aquinas considered it of the utmost importance.[3]
            Simplicity should not be considered as merely one among the many attributes of God, however.  Having established the plausibility of God’s existence, at the beginning of Q.3 Aquinas notes “now it can be shown how God is not, by denying of Him whatever is unfitting to Him—namely composition, motion, and the like.  Thereby we must discuss His simplicity, whereby we deny composition in Him…”  Thus David Burrell notes that Simplicity, far from being an attribute, acts more like a “formal feature,” of divinity, in which it actually defines the manner in which properties may be spoken of God.”[4]  Thus we might say Simplicity is both a matter of ontology and epistemology.  It is a diagnostic tool that aids us in answering “what is God?” (a question Chesterton records that a young Aquinas was famous for pestering his professors with) and “what is it to speak and know God?”
            Brunner’s additional comment that simplicity is merely a (fallacious) importation from philosophy as an encroachment into properly “biblical,” theology, could hardly be further from the truth, and he probably couldn’t have gotten away with such a statement except that it reflected the general prejudice of his age regarding metaphysics.  Here the pejorative connotation contained in Barth’s “all controlling principle,” breaks down as well.  For Aquinas the discussion on simplicity, while of course employing philosophy, is never an a priori deductive axiom foisted upon scripture like an iron cage, but is primarily a device to properly interpret scripture itself.
            Before getting into the bulk of his arguments we immediately get a sense of simplicity as a hermeneutical tool for statements about God in the very first article in III.  He asks: “Whether God is a body?” and the five points of evidence for God having a body are scriptural: God is spoken of as three dimensional (higher than heaven, deeper than hell, etc…); everything that has a figure is a body, and it seems since man was made in God’s image, He must have a figure and ergo a body; whatever is corporeal is or has a body, and God is said to have arms, eyes, right hand, etc…; posture belongs to a body alone, yet Isaiah said he saw the Lord sitting…; only bodies can be referenced by local terms, and we are exhorted to “come to the Lord,” et al.  And while Aquinas’ answers are philosophical, we are here dealing with a very pertinent interpretive issue on how literal to take these descriptors.[5]
            He answers: on the contrary, God is Spirit.  So automatically the introduction into the discussion on Simplicity isn’t about the mere introduction of an alien principle, but arrives as a heuristic which is implicitly guiding us to organize which scriptures interpret which.  Because it is not immediately obvious that “spirit” means “not a body,” in this sense.  Aquinas continues in the first and second replies (which are largely parallel) that God cannot be a body because “no body is in motion unless it be put in motion,” and secondly “because the fist being must by necessity be in act, and no way in potency,” but “every body is a potency, [per the first reply that every body moves only when put in motion]” thus God cannot be a body.  And Aquinas replies to the various scriptures by noting “Holy Writ puts before us spiritual and divine things under the likenesses of corporeal things.  Hence when it attributes to God the three dimensions…it designates His virtual quantity [i.e. His power, excellence, majesty, etc…].”
            Aquinas goes on in article two of question 3 to investigate whether then God is a composite of “matter and form.”  Here there are some interesting observations.  Aquinas answers that God cannot be such a composition because “everything composed of matter and form is good through its form,” but God is not good through anything but is Himself the GOOD.  “Hence it is impossible that God is matter and form.”  Yet this does not leave God “amorphous,” so to speak, Aquinas makes an intriguing suggestion: Every agent acts by its form, and its manner of form determines the type of agent it is.  God is primarily and essentially an agent as actus purus and is thus in His essence a Form,[6] and not a composite of matter and form.  Why?  Because as we have seen for Aquinas matter is inert; if God were composite there would be a “delay” in His absolute action and God would be less Himself.
            We can understand this better by turning to the third article.  “Whether God is the Same as His Essence or Nature?”  Here it behooves us to quote Aquinas’ complex reasoning at length:
God is the same as His essence or nature.  To understand this, it must be noted that in things composed of matter and form, the nature or essence must differ from the suppositum [i.e. the material expression of the nature], because the essence or nature comprises in itself only what is included in the definition of the species: as, humanity comprises in itself all that is included in the definition of man…now individual matter, with all its individualizing accidents, is not included in the definition of species.  One of the elements in this …is that what is one and simple can be represented only by many things.  And so there comes about in these effects composition, which renders suppositum distinct from the nature in them.  For this flesh, these bones, this blackness, this whiteness, etc…are not included in the definition of a man.  Therefore this flesh, these bones and accidents designating this matter, are not included in humanity.

            This is what Rudi Te Veld calls the principle of the “non-identity”[7] which runs through every created, composite thing.  You and I do not “express,” or “enact” ourselves purely, because our composite form allows the accumulation of accidents which “delay” and hide any “pure” expression of who were are (thus for example a stutter while proclaiming your love to someone can ruin the message and dilute the purity of self-expression, etc..) In other words who we are is always expressed through a medium not strictly part of the definition of ourselves (I am not my bones, in Aquinas’ language) and in so doing an interval of “not myself,” piggybacks upon every self-expression. Moreover as we are a composite of matter and form in order to “explain,” and “identify,” ourselves we have to take a conceptual step back in order to identify our constituent parts: thus in a sense who were are has to be reduced to the more basic parts of our composition.  “Whatever a thing has besides its essence must be caused either by the principles of that essence…or by some exterior agent—as heat is caused in water by fire…therefore a thing whos being differs from its essence must have its being caused by another.” (I.Q3.a4)  But this is not so with God; without composition, God is the explanation for God, and God is the expression for God.  God expresses God purely, without the delay of a filter or medium.
            Moreover, Aquinas continues in article 5, God cannot be complex because God is not a genus.  That is to say there is no genus “Divinity,” of which God is merely an example.  This is because “in the intellect, genus is prior to what it contains, but nothing is prior to God either really or in the intellect.  Therefore God is not in any genus.”  If there was a genus “Divinity,” God would fall under the principle of “non-identity” we just encountered: for if he were merely an exemplar of the Genus there would have to be some individuating principle the genus became composite with (be it matter, or whatever) that specified and located God as an species apart from the universality of the Genus.  But in doing so God becomes not only composite but an impure expression of Himself and, given the “Five Ways” of Aquinas, where God must be the self-existent beginning, not God at all, in fact.  Rather “God is the principle of all being, therefore He is not contained in any genus as its principle.”
            By the same reasoning there can be no “accidents” (i.e. non-essential) qualities in God, because all subjects prone to accidents relate to them as potency relates to act.  What Aquinas means by this is that our identities are in a real way bound up within the accidents of our life (again we go back to we can have no “pure” expression of ourselves unmediated by accidents).  But there can be no potency in God, and therefore no accidents (I.Q3.a.6).
            In article 8 Aquinas summarizes his previous arguments and adds a few (semi-)new ones which appear as elaborations on previously established principles.  For example, every composite-entity is posterior to its constituent composition, but again God does not “come-after” anything, and thus cannot be composite.  Or further, in every composite entity there is a previous cause which must account for the unity of the composition, for “parts cannot unite unless something causes them to unite.”  But God cannot have a cause per definition since He is the first efficient cause.
            Aquinas ends his specific enquiry into simplicity with article eight: whether God can enter into composition with composite things?  Aquinas, predictably, answers no for three principle reasons.  The first, he says, God is the first efficient cause, and thus cannot enter into composition because “matter can be neither numerically nor specifically identical with an efficient cause.”  Secondly, akin to earlier arguments, God cannot enter into composition “because, since God is the first efficient cause, to act belongs to Him primarily and essentially.  But that which enters into composition with anything does not act primarily and essentially, but rather the composite so acts; for the hand does not act, but the man by his hand…Hence God cannot be part of a composite.”  And thirdly because “no part of a composite can be absolutely first among beings…for matter is in potency, and potency is absolutely posterior to act…and as that which participates is posterior to that which is essential, so likewise is that which is participated…”
            Thus in conclusion we can see how Thomas is utilizing both an ontological, and a hermeneutical or epistemological tool with simplicity.  Bruce Marshall writes of Thomas “When applied to God, ‘simple’ is not primarily a metaphysical description…but rather a metalinguistic stipulation rooted in the conviction of God’s transcendence.  It serves to qualify the application of all creaturely discourse to God, who is, so the faith maintains, the beginning and end of all creatures, but not himself a creature.”[8]  To summarize and conclude I quote at length an excellent illustration by William Placher:
I might for instance, ordinarily think about something by distinguishing its component parts.  A carburetor has a tube through which air flows, and a jet that sprays fuel into it.  But God, as simple, has no component parts, so we cannot understand God in that way.  Again I might understand the carburetor in terms of its form and matter: take some tempered steel and shape it into a large tube with a small jet entering it.  But, Aquinas says, God is not composed of form and matter, since God is not a material body, so we cannot use such distinctions to understand God.  I might think about my carburetor in terms of potency and act—that is, I might say something like “Here is how you make a carburetor, and then, when you pump fuel and air through it, here is what it does.”  But divine simplicity, Aquinas says, does not admit of potency, so that distinction is likewise of no use.  Yet again if we had a carburetor on the table in front of us and I were trying to explain it to you, you might ask about some piece sticking out of the top, and Id reply, “Oh that must be how it fastens to the rest of the engine.  That doesn’t really have anything to do with being a carburetor.”  In other words, I would distinguish its essence from something distinct from that essence.  But this also does not work with respect to God, who has no properties distinct from the divine essence.  The list goes on.  It seems that none of the ways we would orindarily go about understanding something work with respect to God…A decade or so before the Summa, Aquinas covered much the same ground in his Disputed Questions on the Power of God, and concluded, “Wherefore man reaches the highest point of his knowledge about God when he knows that he knows him not, inasmuch as he knows that that which God is transends whatsoever he conceives of Him.” (On the Power of God 7.5 ad. 14.)[9]


[1] G.K. Chesterton, Saint Thomas Aquinas: The Dumb Ox (New York: DoubleDay, 1956) p.xvi.
[2] Emil Brunner, Dogmatics Vol. 1: The Doctrine of God (London: Lutterworth, ,1949) p.242;  Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics II/1 p.329.
[3] Jay Wesley Richards, The Untamed God: A Philosophical Exploration of Divine Perfection, Simplicity, and Immutability (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2003) p.214n.5.
[4] David Burrell, “Distinguishing God from the World,” in Language, Meaning, and God, ed. Brian Davies, (London, Geoffery Chapman, 1987) p.75.
[5] This issue especially may seem absurd to most Christians as its not usually an issue of contention.  What is missed in this dismissal is how it relates to the concept of impassibility; namely that if God is not impassible, then logically it seems to demand that God in some sense have a body or corporeality in order to be receptive.  Modern passiblists like Moltmann, Jüngel, and others, have not taken their position to this conclusion, though in some sense Hartshorne definitely has (though “body” is termed in the sense that all bodies are composites of actual occasions, and God is merely a huge cluster of families of actual occasions).  However the Open-Theist Clark Pinnock has suggested it in his own work, seemingly taking the exact opposite stance of Aquinas:
“There is an issue that has not been raised yet in the discussion around the open view of God.  If He is with us in the world, if we are to take biblical metaphors seriously, (!) is God in some sense embodied?  Critics will be quick to say that though there are expressions of this idea in the bible, we shouldn’t take them literally.  But I do not believe that the idea is as foreign to the Bible’s view of God as we have assumed.  In tradition, God is thought to function primarily as a disembodied spirit, but this is scarcely a biblical idea.  For example Israel is called to hear God’s word, to gaze on his glory and beauty.  Human beings are said to be embodied creatures created in the image of God.  Is there perhaps something in God which corresponds to embodiment?  Having a body is certainly not a negative thing because it makes it possible for us to be agents.  Perhaps God’s agency would be easier to envisage if he were in some way corporeal.  (Pinnock, Most-Moved Mover p.34)
[6] Karl Rahner complained in his book The Trinity trans. Joseph Donceel (New York: Crossroads, 2004) p.15 that Aquinas has effectively castrated Trinitarian theology by separating his treatise “on the one god,” from “on the triune God,” thus making it seem that the Trinity is a mostly irrelevant add-on.  But here with Aquinas’ language of pure form is a suggestion that seems to be taken up later with the bridge between the treatise that “God delights in Himself,” namely that the “pure form,” or the actus purus of God is nothing other than the inter-trinitarian life of God-in-act.
[7] Rudi Te Veld, Aquinas on God (Burlington, VT: Ashgate Publishing, 2006) p.79
[8] Bruce D. Marshall, “Aquinas as a Post-Liberal Theologian,” The Thomist 53 (July 1989): 382
[9] William Placher, The Domestication of Transcendence: How Modern Thinking About God Went Wrong (Westminster: John Knox Press, 1996) p.22-23
VT: Ashgate Publishing, 2006) p.79

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