One of the foundational ideas in Christian theology is that God is the creator of all things. In our ancient creeds, we profess this belief clearly: “We believe in one God, the Father Almighty, the maker of heaven and earth.” This assertion is fundamental to our understanding of God, not merely as a being among others but as the very source of all that exists. If God is the sheer act of being itself, then anything that exists apart from God must ultimately have its origin in God alone.

Unlike the mythologies of old, where gods shaped pre-existing matter or struggled against rival forces, Christian theology introduces a radical idea: God creates ex nihilo, from nothing. This means God doesn’t compete or dominate; rather, God brings forth creation through a generous, nonviolent act of love.

The Nature of Creation

Creation is not simply a moment lost in the distant past, like a clock that was wound and set running. Instead, creation is ongoing. St. Thomas Aquinas spoke of creatio continua — the idea of continual creation. God’s act of creation sustains the world moment by moment, so we don’t just have a relationship with God; rather, we are a relationship to God. It is this connection that Meister Eckhart pointed towards when he said that the spiritual journey is less about climbing towards a distant God and more about sinking deeply into the presence of God.

The doctrine of creation also teaches us the interconnectedness of all things. When I touch that deepest part of myself, the place where God is creating me now, I also touch the center of every other creature. Every human being, every element of creation is, in a way, my sibling. St. Francis of Assisi understood this profoundly when he spoke of “brother sun” and “sister moon”. We are all bound together because we are all continuously being brought into existence by the same Creator.

God’s Providence and Nonviolence

The God who creates is also the God who provides. The Book of Wisdom describes God as one who “stretches from end to end mightily and orders all things sweetly.” This means God is not some distant, detached force. God is actively involved, like an artist shaping his material with care and purpose. Creation is dynamic, always in the process of becoming. Like an artist’s studio, it has an unfinished quality—a reflection of a work still being crafted with patience and vision.

God’s creative act is nonviolent. He speaks, “Let there be light,” and there is light. It’s an act of pure love, not coercion. This nonviolent nature of God’s creative will also informs how we understand Jesus’ teachings. Jesus calls us to live in harmony with the deepest reality of the universe—a reality that is ultimately grounded in nonviolence and self-giving love. The doctrine of creation, the doctrine of God’s providence, and Jesus’ moral teachings are all part of a unified vision of life.

The Problem of Evil

But what about evil? This is one of the most challenging questions in theology. If God is all-knowing, all-powerful, and all-good, why does evil exist? This question has troubled many great minds, from John Stuart Mill to St. Thomas Aquinas. Aquinas framed it quite succinctly: “If one of two contraries be infinite, the other would be altogether destroyed. But God is called the infinite good. Therefore, if God exists, there should be no evil. But there is evil. Therefore, there’s no God.” It is a powerful objection, and it reaches its emotional peak when we confront places like Auschwitz, where unimaginable evil occurred.

Christian theology has always struggled with this issue, but at least we can gesture towards some kind of understanding. One key idea is that evil, in the strictest sense, does not exist; rather, it is a deprivation, a lack of something that ought to be. Think of a cavity in a tooth or a malfunction in an organ—it’s not something created but something gone wrong. This is why we never speak of God as creating evil.

Why, then, does God allow evil to exist? The classical answer, articulated by Augustine and Aquinas, is that God permits evil in order to bring about a greater good. We know this sometimes to be true in our own lives: pain or loss can lead to deeper growth, unexpected insights, or new opportunities for love. However, in the face of profound suffering—like that experienced by Job or at places of historical atrocities—this explanation can feel insufficient.

The Book of Job offers us a story that resonates deeply with the problem of innocent suffering. When Job challenges God to explain his suffering, God’s response is not to justify or explain but rather to invite Job to see a glimpse of the vastness of divine wisdom: “Where were you when I founded the Earth?... Have you entered into the sources of the sea?” God’s answer takes Job (and us) on a journey through the mysteries of the universe—suggesting that our perspective is always partial, limited by our human condition. God’s purposes and designs, like an artist’s great work, are beyond the scope of our understanding.

God as the Divine Artist

Imagine you are standing very close to Georges Seurat’s great pointillist painting, Sunday Afternoon on La Grande Jatte. Up close, you see nothing but small, colourful blotches, seemingly disconnected. But as you step back, the dots and strokes resolve into a magnificent composition. God, as the divine artist, is working on a canvas that includes all of space and time. From our vantage point, we often see only blotches—random, confusing events—but from God’s perspective, these are all part of a grand, harmonious design.

William James offers another analogy. He spoke of his dog entering his study and seeing everything in the room: the books, the papers, the globe. The dog sees all of it but understands very little. We are like that dog in God’s study. We see the world around us, but we cannot fully comprehend God’s purposes or the way the world is ordered. The limitations of our understanding prevent us from seeing the whole picture.

The Cross and the Trinity

Ultimately, the Christian answer to the problem of evil is not a philosophical explanation but a person: Jesus Christ. On the cross, God entered fully into the human condition, embracing even death itself to transform it into a place of hope and redemption. The darkness of human suffering meets the divine love in that singular moment, and it is transfigured into new life. It is here, in the cross, that we glimpse the heart of God’s response to evil.

This brings us to the uniqueness of the Christian understanding of God. God is one, but not solitary. In God’s very being, there is a relationship—a communion of love between Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. When we make the sign of the cross, we are invoking this profound mystery. St. Augustine, in his work on the Trinity, described it in terms of the mind: mens, notitia sui, amor sui — mind, self-knowledge, self-love. Just as our minds can know and love, God, in a perfect and infinite way, knows and loves within Himself. The Father knows Himself in the Son, and the Spirit is the love that flows between them.

The idea of the Trinity can be challenging, even bewildering. But it is essential, for it tells us that at the heart of all reality is love. When St. John says, “God is love,” he is not merely stating that God is loving; he is revealing that love is what God is. In God’s inner life, there is an eternal exchange of love. And it is out of this love that God creates, sustains, and redeems the world.

Theologians often use language that can feel abstract or confusing, like incense clouding our vision during liturgy. But this is intentional. God cannot be captured in neat concepts or definitions. If we think we fully understand, then what we understand is certainly not God. The mystery of God invites us to wonder, to awe, and ultimately to love.

The Answer Is Love

We ask many questions in life, but perhaps the deepest is the question about existence itself: “What is it all about?” The Christian answer to that question is simple, yet profound: it is about love. For love is what God is, and love is what we are created for. Through creation, providence, and redemption, God’s love is the thread that ties all things together. This is the heart of our faith, the beginning and the end of our journey. Let us continue to live, move, and have our being in the God who is love.

Questions for Reflection

• How does the idea of God creating ex nihilo (from nothing), as described in Genesis 1:1-3 and the Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC 296-298), influence your understanding of the relationship between God and creation?
• St. Thomas Aquinas spoke of creatio continua—ongoing creation. How do you experience God's creative presence in your daily life, considering Colossians 1:16-17 and CCC 301-302?
• The Book of Job presents suffering as a mystery beyond human comprehension. How do you reconcile personal suffering with your faith in a provident and loving God, in light of Job 38:1-4 and CCC 309-314?
• Jesus' nonviolent approach to creation and redemption is central to the Christian faith. How can you embody nonviolence in your own actions, following Jesus' teachings in Matthew 5:38-48 and the guidance found in CCC 2304-2306?
• St. Augustine describes the Trinity as a communion of love. How does understanding God as a community of love affect the way you relate to others, as taught in John 17:20-23 and CCC 253-256?