Communicable Incommunicable Attributes

Picture yourself standing at the edge of a vast ocean, gazing into the horizon where the sky meets the water. As you ponder this magnificent vista, you’re struck by a tension—a beautiful contradiction that mirrors our understanding of God’s attributes. On one hand, we encounter God’s incommunicable attributes, qualities that are solely His; omniscience, omnipotence, and omnipresence. These majestic traits remind us of His infinite nature, which feels both empowering and isolating. Yet, juxtaposed against this divine isolation are His communicable attributes—love, mercy, justice—traits that we can reflect and share. How can God be both so transcendent, infinitely beyond our comprehension, and yet so intimately relatable? This paradox invites us into a deeper relationship with the Divine, one that requires us to sit with this tension and embrace the enigma of His nature.

The Beautiful Contradiction

Let’s dive deeper into this striking biblical paradox. We find the essence of this contradiction in statements like "the last shall be first" and "to gain your life, you must lose it." It’s a tension found throughout the narrative of Scripture, where strength comes from weakness and wisdom is hidden in humility. Paul speaks of this paradox in 2 Corinthians 12:9 (ESV), saying, “But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.” Here we see the beautiful contradiction that runs through the fabric of our faith—a God who uses the weak to confound the strong, who invites us to lose our lives in order to truly find them.

This paradox speaks to the very heart of the Gospel. Jesus, our Savior, embodies this contradiction fully. His life culminates in a sacrificial death, yet that death becomes the very source of life for humanity. Imagine standing at the foot of the cross, grappling with the heartache of loss, only to witness the miraculous resurrection days later. This juxtaposition of despair and hope creates an emotional landscape that resonates deeply within us. It’s a reminder that the greatest truths often come wrapped in layers of complexity, urging us to embrace both the light and shadow in our walk with God.

Our Struggle with Mystery

But here's where it gets interesting: the human heart naturally resists paradox. We crave resolution, clarity, and simplicity, particularly when faced with the mysteries of faith. Reflecting on my own life, I remember wrestling with my beliefs during a personal crisis at the age of twenty. I felt the weight of both God’s omnipotent presence and my own frail existence, and the tension was overwhelming. I wanted neat answers for my questions, yet the more I sought resolution, the more complex my understanding became.

In relationships, we encounter similar paradoxes. You might feel a deep sense of love for a friend yet find yourself frustrated by misunderstandings that arise. The push and pull of emotions can create internal conflict, and we often search for ways to simplify these complexities. But what if embracing the messiness leads us to a more profound understanding of love—reflecting God’s communicable attribute, even amid confusion? This is where we encounter the mystery that is inherent in our faith journey.

Living the Paradox

The plot thickens as we examine biblical figures who lived out this paradox in their own lives. Take Paul, who writes about his "thorn in the flesh" in 2 Corinthians 12:7 (ESV): “So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited.” Here is a man who, despite his profound revelations, embodies weakness—displaying a powerful paradox where his afflictions lead him to rely more fully on God’s grace.

Or consider Mary, the mother of Jesus, who humbly submits to the angel’s announcement in Luke 1:38 (ESV): “And Mary said, ‘Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.’” Her acceptance of an unimaginable role illustrates the paradox of obedience and surrender. In her willingness to bear the weight of the world’s redemption, she becomes