Which God Are We Talking About?

The Triune God of Scripture

I love the Trinity. That is because I love God, and God is Triune.

When Christians say “God,” we do not mean a vague creator. We mean the Triune God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, one God in three persons.

That may sound like theology for specialists, but it is actually the bedrock of Christian faith. If we get God wrong, we will get everything else wrong. And if we keep God vague, we will never know whether we are talking about the living God of Scripture or a god made in our own image.

What do Christians mean by “the Trinity”?

Very few people have a firm grasp of the Trinity, so we need to define our terms.

The doctrine of the Trinity, stated simply, is that there is one eternal being of God, and this one divine being is shared fully and completely by three coequal, coeternal persons, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

God is therefore one in essence and three in persons.

To keep our thinking clear, we need to distinguish between the words being and person.

Being answers the question: What is something?

Person answers the question: Who is someone?

A simple analogy I once heard is helpful here. A chair has being, it exists. But it does not have personhood. It has no mind, no will, no “self.” I do not ask its permission to sit on it, because it is not a “who.” It is a “what.” This distinction helps us understand the Trinity. God is one “what” (one divine being) shared by three “whos” (Father, Son, Spirit).

Many analogies have been proposed: water, ice, steam (but that’s modalism). Egg with shell, white, yolk (but those are parts, not persons). Shamrock (St. Patrick’s attempt, but it doesn’t capture the fullness). All analogies break down because God is utterly unique. It’s better to let Scripture define the Trinity than to trust imperfect comparisons.

So when Christians speak of the Trinity, we are not saying “three gods.” Nor are we saying “one person pretending to be three persons.” We are saying something far more precise:

One divine what: one being, one essence

Three divine whos: three persons, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit

Is there mystery here? Yes. God is infinite. We are not. But mystery is not the same as contradiction. The Trinity is beyond us, but it is not against reason. It is the biblical revelation of who God is.

A common objection you may hear: “The Trinity is not in the Bible.”

Non-Trinitarian groups such as Jehovah’s Witnesses and the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Mormons) often contend that Christians have simply made up the Trinity, pointing out that the term itself is not found in Scripture.

But the absence of a word does not prove the absence of the truth.

The word “Trinity” is not in the Bible, but neither is “Bible,” “incarnation,” “inerrancy,” or the phrase “the second coming of Christ.” We use these words and phrases as shorthand for biblical truths. The word doesn’t need to be there if the reality is clearly taught. And the Trinity is clearly taught when you let Scripture speak. So when someone says, “Trinity is not in the Bible,” a fair reply is, “So what?” The real issue is whether Scripture teaches the reality the word describes.

The church did not create the Trinity, it summarized Scripture’s teaching. And when the church later met at Nicaea and other councils, it was not inventing the Trinity, it was defending the biblical confession against distortions.

That is exactly what Christians have done throughout the centuries. The word “Trinity” is a faithful summary of what Scripture clearly teaches when all the relevant passages are taken together.

Why do Christians believe the Trinity?

Christians believe the Trinity because three things are unmistakably taught in Scripture.

1. There is only one God, eternal and immutable (unchanging).

(Deut. 6:4; Isa. 43:10; Mal. 3:6; Mark 12:29; John 17:3; 1 Tim. 2:5; Jas. 2:19)

2. There are three eternal persons, carefully distinguished from one another.

The Father is not the Son.

The Son is not the Spirit.

The Spirit is not the Father.

(Matt. 3:13–17; 28:19; Luke 10:22; John 1:1–2; 3:16–17; 15:26; 16:7; 17:1–26; 2 Cor. 13:14)

3. The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are each identified as fully divine.

(Isa. 9:6; John 17:3; John 1:1, 18; 8:58; 20:28; Phil. 2:5–11; Col. 2:9; Titus 2:13; Heb. 1:8; 2 Pet. 1:1; Acts 5:3–4; 2 Cor. 3:17–18)

John 1:1 is especially clear: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” Notice: the Word (Jesus) was with God (personal distinction) and was God (full deity). Same divine being, distinct person. That’s two persons of the Trinity in one verse, with personal distinction and full deity both in view.

In Acts 5, when Ananias lied to the Holy Spirit, Peter said he had “not lied to man but to God” (v. 4). The Spirit and God are equated. The Holy Spirit isn’t an impersonal force. He’s a divine person. After all, you can’t lie to electricity or grieve gravity or blaspheme wind. But the Spirit can be lied to, grieved (Ephesians 4:30), and blasphemed (Matthew 12:31-32). Only a person can be treated this way.

Put those three truths together and the conclusion is unavoidable:

There is only one God.

The Father, Son, and Spirit are personally distinct.

The Father, Son, and Spirit are each fully God.

That is the Trinity.

Is the Trinity hinted at in the Old Testament?

The Trinity is not spelled out in the Old Testament with the clarity we find in the New, but there are striking hints that God is not a lonely monad.

One of the most memorable occurs in the Sodom and Gomorrah account. Genesis 19:24 says, “Then the LORD rained on Sodom and Gomorrah sulfur and fire from the LORD out of heaven” (ESV). There is only one LORD (Yahweh), so why does the text speak of the LORD raining fire from the LORD? It is as if the text presents two distinct persons, both identified as Yahweh.

Christians have often seen here a glimpse of God’s complex unity, and many have understood it as consistent with the way Scripture later distinguishes the Father and the Son, without dividing the one divine identity. At the very least, the text presses us to take seriously that God’s oneness is not simplistic.

Consider also the plural language in Genesis 1:26: “Let us make man in our image.” Or Isaiah 6:8: “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” The singular and plural exist side by side.

The Old Testament also speaks of God’s presence with His people in ways that stretch our categories:

God is enthroned in heaven, yet truly dwells with His covenant people.

The “Angel of the LORD” appears at key moments, speaking and acting with divine authority.

These are not full statements of the Trinity, but they are real signposts that prepare us for what the New Testament reveals plainly. Later revelation in the New Testament clarifies what these hints were pointing toward all along.

What happens when we deny one of these truths?

Because these three truths hang together, denying any one of them produces serious error.

Deny personal distinctions (Father, Son, and Spirit are not truly distinct) and you drift into modalism, sometimes called “Oneness” teaching.

Deny full deity and equality (especially of the Son and the Spirit) and you drift into subordinationism.

Deny the one God and you drift into tritheism or polytheism.

As Dr. James White has explained: if one denies that there are three persons, it results in Oneness teaching. If one denies full equality, one is left with subordinationism. If one denies one God, one is left with polytheism. In some non-Trinitarian systems, multiple denials show up at once. This is why these views cannot account for the full range of biblical data.

This is why the Trinity is not an optional extra. It is not a theological hobby. It is the guardrail that keeps us worshiping the God who actually is, not the god we prefer.

A quick clarification: in God’s eternal nature, Father, Son, and Spirit are absolutely equal. But in the work of salvation, they take different roles. The Son submits to the Father’s will (John 6:38), but this doesn’t mean He’s inferior. It means He chose the role of servant to accomplish redemption (Philippians 2:6-8). Equal in being, distinct in roles.

The Trinity is not a puzzle to solve, but a God to worship.

Before I conclude, I want to add something that has always astonished me.

The Trinity is not merely a doctrine to defend, it is the living reality of God’s work in salvation. Each person of the Godhead acts in perfect unity, yet with real personal distinction.

The Father elects and sends.

The Son becomes incarnate, obeys, dies, rises, and redeems.

The Spirit applies the Son’s finished work, giving new birth, granting repentance and faith, indwelling, sanctifying, and keeping.

J. I. Packer captured the heartbeat of the gospel with three words: “God saves sinners.” That is not a slogan. It is a confession of worship. And it is deeply Trinitarian. The Father plans redemption, the Son accomplishes redemption, and the Spirit applies redemption, so that the praise belongs to God alone.

When you see that, the Trinity stops being an abstract concept. It becomes the shape of your prayers, your assurance, your worship, and your hope.

You pray to the Father, through the Son, by the Spirit.

You are loved by the Father, united to the Son, indwelt by the Spirit.

You are saved, kept, and brought home by the Triune God.

All glory be to our great God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, now and forevermore. Amen.

A bridge to the next question

Since this is the God we are talking about, the next question is obvious: how has this God made Himself known?

The Triune God is not silent. He speaks. And that leads us directly to the Bible.

How can a good God allow evil?

This is not an armchair question. It is a hospital-room question. It is asked through tears at a graveside. It rises from the heart when the phone rings with bad news, when betrayal lands like a gut punch, when a child suffers, when the body breaks down and the world seems brutal, heartless, and cruel. So before we say anything else, we should say this: it is a valid question, and it deserves more than a tidy answer tied up in a neat bow.

In this ‘Got Questions?’ series, I have already made the case that God exists. Now comes the question that lands hardest when life hurts: How can a good God allow evil?

And even after we say true things, some will still protest, “But why this evil, why this loss?” Behind every question is a heart, often a wounded one. Sometimes the deepest need is not a polished argument, but the ministry of presence: a brother or sister who listens, prays, and does not rush the grief. So we should speak with people, not merely talk at them, and weep with those who weep. And right there in the pain, God often comes near, even when He does not explain the reasons. He draws near to the brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18). Psalm 73 captures that honest turmoil of the soul, and the slow return to trust… ‘until I went into the sanctuary of God’ (verse 17). Seeing God as He truly is steadied the psalmist’s heart, and put everything back in its proper place.

So we are not starting with, “If God exists…” We are asking something sharper: since God is good, holy, and sovereign, why is there evil, and why does He permit so much suffering in His world?

What is evil?

We should begin by defining what we mean by “evil.” Evil is not a created substance. It is not a “thing” God made the way He made light and land and stars. Evil is real, and its wounds are deep, but it is a corruption of the good, a twisting of what God made upright. Scripture calls sin “lawlessness” (1 John 3:4). It is rebellion against God’s good rule, whether loud defiance or quiet refusal.

Some ask, ‘I understand free will explains human evil. But why earthquakes? Why childhood cancer?’ Scripture teaches that creation itself was subjected to futility and groans because of the Fall (Romans 8:20-22). The whole world is broken because humanity’s rebellion fractured everything. Death, decay, and disaster entered through the Fall (Genesis 3; Romans 5:12). We don’t live in an innocent world experiencing random suffering. We live in a fallen world where everything reflects the consequences of sin, including nature itself.

We ask God to remove evil, but we forget that evil is not only “out there.” It is in here. If God removed all evil today, He would have to remove us too, because evil lurks in every human heart. That does not minimize your experience. It tells the truth about what has happened to all of us.

Evil presupposes God

Now notice something important. The moment we call something “evil,” we are appealing to a real moral standard. We are not merely saying, “I dislike this,” but, “This ought not to be.” That word ought is an announcement that goodness is not a private preference. It is objective. It is binding. And it only makes sense if there is a holy God whose character is the measure of what is good. Take Him away, and ‘evil’ becomes mere preference, like choosing coffee instead of tea, but the heart knows evil is more than that.

And this is where the original question takes an unexpected turn. Many want to use evil as a weapon against God, but if you remove God from the picture, you remove an essential component of even raising the objection. Remove the Judge, and you do not get rid of guilt, you get rid of a courtroom. You can still feel outrage, but you can no longer say, with moral authority, “This is truly wrong.” Take God away, and you do not solve the problem of evil. You are left with evil with no ultimate meaning, no final accounting, and no certain hope of justice. On the other hand, Christianity affirms that God will ultimately overrule evil to serve His holy purpose. Christianity is not borrowing moral categories from the culture. Again and again, the world wants moral certainty without a moral Lawgiver. But it cannot escape moral assumptions that only make sense if God is real.

The mystery of God’s sovereignty and holiness

But now we come to the very heart of the issue. If God is sovereign, why does He permit evil at all? Scripture does not satisfy every curiosity, and it does not invite us to put God on trial. When Job pressed God for an explanation, God answered with God, not with a chart: “Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?” (Job 38–42). In other words, we are not competent to sit as judges over the Judge of all the earth.

Notice: God never tells Job why he suffered. But after encountering God Himself, Job says, “I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you; therefore I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes” (Job 42:5-6). Job got God instead of explanations, and that was enough. Sometimes seeing God rightly is the answer, even when the ‘why’ question remains.

This does not mean God is indifferent. It means God is holy. He has the right to govern His world according to His own wise and righteous purposes. He is not accountable to His creatures. He does not take counsel from us. He is the potter, and we are the clay. And yet, Scripture also insists on something else at the same time: God is light, and “in Him is no darkness at all” (1 John 1:5). He is never the author of sin, and He never excuses the sinner. We commit evil because we want to. We cannot shift the blame upward.

There is mystery here, and Christians should admit it without embarrassment. We do not know all that we would like to know about the origin of evil. Many simplistic answers fall apart under honest scrutiny. But Scripture does not leave us in the dark. It insists on holding two truths together: nothing unfolds outside His providence, and yet He remains perfectly holy. We can affirm both truths even when we cannot fully explain how they fit together.

Think of light. Physics tells us light behaves as both a wave and a particle. These seem contradictory, but both are true, and scientists hold them together even without fully understanding how. If finite minds can hold together mysteries in the physical world, why should we be shocked when infinite realities exceed our complete comprehension? Mystery doesn’t mean contradiction. It means our minds are finite and God’s ways are higher than ours (Isaiah 55:8-9).

God’s answer: The incarnation and the cross

Now we come to the center of the Christian faith, and it is not an argument; it is a Person. God has not answered evil with a lecture. He has answered it with an incarnation. The God of the Bible is not a distant, detached, deistic deity, merely watching the gears turn from far away. He stepped into our world in Jesus Christ. He shared our flesh and blood. He was tempted as we are, yet without sin. He is able to help sufferers, and He is a High Priest who sympathizes with our weakness (Hebrews 2:14–18; 4:15). In that sense, God can look at our protest and grief and say, truthfully, He understands why we hate evil. He does too. He has seen what evil does up close.

And then we come to the cross, the place where this question is finally silenced and answered at the same time. What is the most evil act in human history? The crucifixion of the Son of God. Sin and hell and hatred and cowardice gathered together and did their worst, and the only truly righteous Man was murdered in public. And yet Scripture says Jesus was “delivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God” (Acts 2:23). What men meant for evil, God meant for good (Genesis 50:20). God was not reacting to the cross. He was accomplishing redemption through it. If you want to know what God thinks of evil, look at what it cost Him.

At the cross, God didn’t minimize evil or excuse it. He absorbed it. He took the full weight of sin’s penalty upon Himself. “He Himself bore our sins in His body on the tree” (1 Peter 2:24). The price tag of redemption is the measure of how seriously God takes evil. And the fact that He paid it Himself is the measure of how much He loves sinners.

Evil will be judged

And this is also why the Christian can say, with tears and with confidence, that evil is not ultimate. God will judge it. God will expose it. God will repay it in perfect righteousness. There is a day coming when every hidden thing will be brought into the light, when every wrong will be set right, when every victim will be vindicated, and when God’s holiness will be seen to be beautiful, not harsh.

Some say, ‘I don’t like the idea of judgment.’ But if you hate evil, you should long for judgment. Judgment means the child abuser doesn’t get away with it. The genocidal dictator doesn’t escape. The unrepentant oppressor faces justice. A God who never judges evil isn’t good. He’s complicit. The cross shows us God’s heart: He offers mercy now, but He will bring justice eventually.

And hear this clearly: the Lamb is reigning now. By faith we see it already. Christ is seated, His kingdom is advancing, and even the bitterest seasons remain under His wise hand. God is able to work “all things” for good for those who love Him (Romans 8:28). Notice carefully: Paul doesn’t say all things are good. He says God works them for good. Cancer isn’t good. Betrayal isn’t good. Abuse isn’t good. These are evils. But God, in His sovereign wisdom, can take even the worst evils and weave them into His redemptive purposes for those who trust Him. He doesn’t cause the evil, but He doesn’t waste it either. But one day what faith sees will be confessed openly. Every knee will bow, and every tongue will confess the reality that is true right now: Jesus Christ is Lord (Philippians 2:10–11). The universe will not end with evil laughing. It will end with the Lamb exalted, and with God vindicated as good and holy forever.

Even now, God restrains evil more than we know. The world is fallen, but it is not as evil as it could be. There is still beauty, kindness, laughter, love. These are mercies. And God’s patience is not indifference. It is forbearance, giving space for repentance, holding out mercy through Christ while the door is still open.

What should we do with this?

So what should we do with this? If you are suffering, you are not being asked to pretend it does not hurt. You are invited to trust the God who is holy, wise, and never cruel, and who has proved His heart at Calvary. And if you are skeptical, do not stop at the question. Look at what you are appealing to when you call something “evil,” then look at the cross, where God’s holiness and love meet in full brightness. The God who will judge evil is the God who entered history to save sinners.

You do not have to understand all God’s reasons to trust Him. You only have to look at the cross and see what kind of God He is.

Do not let evil drive you from God. Let it drive you to the cross, where God has already begun to undo it.

If you are suffering, or if you have questions you want to talk through, please reach out. We are here for you.

Evil is loud, but it is not lord. Jesus Christ is Lord.