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What Is Omnipotence?
I remember hearing some variation of “Can G-d make a rock so heavy He can’t move it?” in high school. I don’t remember thinking much about it at the time. My earliest memory of having any clear thought about it is probably around 2010 when, as I recall, I answered it “Yes, and that rock is called ‘free will.'”
Which brings us to one thing normally recognized by contemporary philosophers as a reasonable limitation on omnipotence: G-d does not have the ability to break the rules of logic. That’s part of how Christian philosopher Alvin Plantinga responds to atheist philosopher J. L. Mackie. In a nutshell, Mackie wonders why G-d can’t just make a perfect world with free people in it, and Plantinga replies that even omnipotence doesn’t have the power to give us freedom and force us to do the right thing at the same time.
That’s a step in the right direction, but it doesn’t clear up quite enough. Some people seem to think omnipotence means being able to do just anything. That is incorrect. Omnipotence means having unlimited power. That’s the dictionary definition.
Now it’s true that “power” can mean an ability–the power to win a race, the power to eat candy, the power to watch television like Ratbert here:
But “power,” more fundamentally, means might or strength. “Power” can mean an ability because more power often means you can do more things.
But sometimes more power means there are things you can’t do. A powerful runner has a diminished ability to lose a race while trying to win; the most powerful runner possible wouldn’t be able to do it at all.
When I’m navigating the Hong Kong MTR system and have to switch from the East Rail Line to the Kwun Tong Line, I could hardly be the last person to hike that quarter-mile through the bowels of Kowloon Tong Station even if I tried. That’s not because I have some weakness relative to whoever comes in last; it’s because I don’t.
Superman does not have the ability to be killed by a bullet when there’s no kryptonite nearby; that lack of an ability does not mean he has a weakness; it means he has extra power.
And that brings us to the tradition. Omnipotence is an attribute traditionally ascribed to G-d by a tradition, and that tradition is classical theism.
What the word “omnipotence” means is, above all, what the traditional doctrine teaches. Similarly, the term “the Trinity” means G-d according to the doctrine of orthodox Christianity–One G-d, Three distinct Persons who are G-d. Heaven knows how many people out there think “the Trinity” means one G-d with three different roles. Their confusion does not change the meaning of a term that denotes the teaching of a tradition.
What classical theism teaches about omnipotence is that G-d has unlimited power, not that he can do just anything.
People representing the tradition–like Aquinas, and like Anselm here–also explain that certain abilities are weaknesses, not strengths. E.g., the abilities to sin, lie, die, or break the rules of logic.
Being able to do things like that is not required by omnipotence. Being unable to do them is.
Anselm’s book Proslogion introduces the general idea very well, and it’s not a hard book to read (if you don’t get bogged down in the ontological argument in chapters 2 and 3). Here’s chapter 7, where Anselm explains omnipotence, and here’s my short YouTube intro to this lovely little book.
And now . . . surprise! Once we have that perspective in place, we can actually go back to that other sense of the term that caused all this trouble in the first place–“omnipotence” as the ability to do anything.
People like Anselm and Aquinas will actually welcome that definition of omnipotence–but only as long as we understand what it actually means to do something. Sinning is not in itself the doing of a thing. It’s a way of failing to do right. Lying is not a thing you do. It’s a particular way of failing to do something–to speak the truth. Dying isn’t a thing you do; it’s just a failure to keep living. Breaking the rules of logic is not a thing you do, but a particular way of failing to do a thing–to keep the rules.
Technically, an ability to do something means an ability to do a real thing–and these aren’t even real things. And, again, being able to do these things is not some limit on omnipotence; it’s actually part of what omnipotence is. (For example, see Aquinas’ Reply to Objection 2 here.)
Or so the tradition says.
And as for the overrated rock question, if you wanna take it as some sort of metaphor for free will like I once did, be my guest and answer “Yes.”
But if you want to take the question literally and apply a dictionary definition or the equivalent historical definition of omnipotence to it, then the answer is “No”: An omnipotent G-d could not have a weakness. But if G-d made Enchanted Rock in west Texas so heavy that He didn’t have the power to move it, then he would have a weakness.
But trying to think with the tradition is hard work if you’re not used to it. So here’s a suggestion:
Try to forget about the tradition for a moment, and just suppose a few simple principles:
–G-d does not have the ability to break the rules of logic,
–to have an imperfection is to have a limitation,
–and to have a limitation is to have a weakness.
Now let’s admit that a loser like me might, constrained by extreme circumstances, have a moral obligation to lie once in a lifetime. But an omnipotent being will never be constrained by such circumstances; G-d is not a loser like me. So consider this argument:
1. To tell a lie when one is not constrained by extreme circumstances is to have an imperfection.
2. To have an imperfection is to have a weakness.
3. Therefore, to tell a lie when one is not constrained by extreme circumstances is to have a weakness.
You can add one premise and extend the argument.
3. To tell a lie when one is not constrained by extreme circumstances is to have a weakness.
4. It is not possible for an omnipotent being to have weaknesses.
5. Therefore, it is not possible for an omnipotent being to tell a lie when not constrained by extreme circumstances.
If omnipotence means an omnipotent G-d should be able to tell a lie, which of those premises is wrong? Is it 1, 2, or 4?
Published in General
All the suffering, yes.
Not every earthquake is the result of free will as far as I know, but every time one causes suffering it does so as a result of FW.
I’ve never been inclined to read those verses so literally. Why do you pick those ones to read literally? You don’t seem the type to read the Torah literally.
Anyway, I always took them both as approximations–not that I’d rule out metaphor. (Gen. 15:13 is an approximation of years. And “on that day” you will surely become liable to death, or become mortal, or die spiritually; or perhaps “day” refers, as often enough in the Scriptures, to something other than a 24-hour period.)
Which verse is that again?
Is that because all suffering is caused by original sin? Or because all suffering is necessarily the result of something someone did since that apocryphal event? Or something else?
All suffering is called by some sin or other, whether original human sin, original angelic sin, or some other sin.
The Torah simply has none of the language or assumptions that you layer on top of it, masking what is underneath. The text has G-d contemporaneous with man, NOT “outside of time.” Nor is G-d omnipotent in the Torah. He puts a system of consequences in place, and He generally stays within those boundaries on His own power.
The priests and the tabernacle are an excellent example of how and where G-d limits Himself (the Jewish word is “tzimtzum.”) G-d can get close to mankind, but only with a protective layer shielding us from each other – like the veil, represented by the shield over Moses’ face, the Western Wall, the tallit, and every time the word “kaper” (commonly mistranslated as “atonement”) is in the Torah. The veil allows us to draw close together without people being extinguished.
You want to call it “metaphysics”. But the Torah discusses it at great length, long before the Greek word existed.
G-d is pure spirit. If He changes His mind, then the most important element of G-d that we can detect changes.
So, absent sin, would people be capable of making mistakes of their own free will? For example, stubbing a toe in the dark, or inadvertently setting their homes on fire?
Absent sin, would free will somehow be constrained to prevent people from mistakenly bringing suffering on themselves?
Oh, well asked. Maybe so, actually. Maybe I overstated that.
You really should cut back on your speculations about what I’m assuming. You have enough difficulty reading my words. Why waste time trying to read my mind?
And these aspects of what G-d does mean G-d has limits? Your conclusion doesn’t follow from your premises.
That is, if your conclusion is that G-d essentially or necessarily has limits. But if your conclusion is only that G-d limits Himself in His interactions with us, then you might as well know that every orthodox Christian agrees. That’s why the Babylon Bee is funny:
https://babylonbee.com/news/worship-song-repeatedly-asks-god-to-show-his-glory-thousands-dead
Yes.
But your assumption that Gd does in fact change His mind has its own assumptions, starting with the assumption that Gd is within time.
There is also the distinction between a constant mind that applies to us in changing ways because we are changing–happens between me and the kids on a daily basis–and a mind which is itself actually changing. It looks like you’re assuming it’s the latter.
I don’t get many maybes from you. You generally seem pretty sure of yourself.
So, if we think that suffering might have occurred without sin, had original sin not entered the world, isn’t it reasonable to assume that some of the suffering that occurs today might also not be the consequence of sin?
I generally don’t talk at all if I’m not pretty sure it’s a good idea to bother talking, which generally means I’d better have some idea what I’m talking about.
(You could go to my profile page and scour everything I’ve ever said on Ricochet, and you’re not likely to find any sentence about, e.g., Russian literature unless it’s something like “Dostoyevsky is awesome.” Or about quantum mechanics other than something along the lines of “I think I read such-and-such somewhere.” Gee, with music I don’t even know what the individual words mean.)
Plausible. I would imagine it’s limited to the lower levels of stubbed-toe pain.
Numbers 18: 21+
You seem to want it both ways: you state that G-d cannot lie – and then insist that whatever G-d says in the text is not actually what he meant. Who is lying?
If you refuse to read the text itself then you can make it say whatever you want. In this you are in excellent company; people have been warping scripture for their own uses ever since it was handed down.
I have no problem with G-d lying or using metaphor, because I do not believe in absolute truth in any case – following the Torah. G-d’s “spin” is fine with me – it is a lesson that we, too, can choose to tell a story a certain way, and that sometimes the ends do indeed justify the means.
It is why I find these stupid Greek notions of “truth” and “perfection” and “good” so ridiculous when retroactively applied to the Torah. The result is pretzelation at best, and at worst, corruption of what G-d actually wants from us. Corrupting the text is, to my mind, why the world is so very screwed up.
I’m not seeing anything about quail in that passage.
Rubbish. I think what he said he sometimes happened to not say literally.
Why read as literal what is naturally enough read as a mere specification of an occasion or a timeframe? Or what is more naturally read as an approximation to the nearest hundred years?
G-d promised a prophet like Moses. He promised the Exodus. He promised no more Noahic flood. He promised to bless the world through Abraham. He certainly promised mortality from eating the fruit. I’m not rewriting any of these things. I’m reading the text.
So is your suspicion that there wouldn’t be earthquakes, volcanoes, and hurricanes if not for original sin? Or that people would somehow be immune to them?
Without sin, I know not whether we’d have them. But I’m sure they wouldn’t cause a lot of suffering.