Who Is God

Who Is God—and Why It Matters

“In the beginning, God…”

~ Genesis 1:1

Before light fractured the void, before man drew breath, before time ticked its first moment—God was. Scripture’s opening line does not argue for His existence; it assumes it. It does not describe His nature; it declares His presence. The narrative begins not with a question, but with a name. And yet, this name—simple, unadorned, unqualified—invites the deepest wondering.

Who is this God who speaks worlds into being? What kind of being precedes all beginnings? Is He merely powerful, or profoundly personal? Is He distant, or near? Holy, or indulgent?

The question is not new. It echoes in every generation, in every grief, in every joy. Philosophers have speculated, poets have wept, and prophets have spoken—but the question remains: Who is God?

This article dares to ask—not to tame mystery, but to enter it. Not to reduce God to a concept, but to receive Him as He reveals Himself. Through Scripture’s own narrative arc, we will trace the character of God: revealed, triune, holy, and steadfast. Because to know God is not merely to answer a question—it is to awaken to reality.

God Revealed

Scripture begins not with man’s search for God, but with God’s self-disclosure. The biblical story is not a record of human speculation—it is divine revelation. From the first breath of creation to the final trumpet of redemption, God reveals Himself as one who speaks, acts, and enters covenant.

“And God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light.” (Genesis 1:3)

The first act of God is speech. He does not form the world silently; He speaks it into being. This is not incidental—it establishes a pattern. God is a speaking God, and creation itself is a canvas of His character. The heavens declare His glory (Psalm 19:1)—not as mere poetry, but as David observes: ‘Day to day pours out speech, and night to night reveals knowledge’ (Psalm 19:2). The psalmist sees creation itself as God’s ongoing communication, where the physical world becomes His voice. What David witnessed in the ancient sky, we witness still: creation speaking without words, yet understood by all (Psalm 19:3-4).

In Genesis, God walks with Adam, questions Cain, and covenants with Noah. He is not distant. He is present, initiating relationship. The God who creates is the God who communes.

“I AM WHO I AM.”

~ Exodus 3:14

When Moses asks for God’s name, he receives not a label but a revelation. “I AM WHO I AM” speaks of self-existence, constancy, and mystery. This name becomes the covenantal anchor for Israel. God is not a tribal deity or regional force. He is the One who was, is, and will be.

The burning bush is not merely a miracle—it is a metaphor. Fire that burns but does not consume. Presence that purifies but does not destroy. God reveals Himself in paradox, in poetry, in power.

“Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke… but in these last days He has spoken to us by His Son.”

~ Hebrews 1:1–2

Jesus is not merely a messenger—He is the message. The Word became flesh (John 1:14), and in Him, God’s self-revelation reaches its climax. Every healing, every parable, every moment of silence is revelatory. In Christ, we do not merely learn about God—we meet Him.

The cross is not just an event—it is a revelation. It shows us the holiness of God, the justice of God, and the love of God—all at once. The resurrection is not just vindication—it is unveiling. God is not dead. He is risen. He is revealed.

God Is Triune

To say “God is one” is true. To say “God is three” is also true. But to say “God is triune”—Father, Son, and Spirit in eternal fellowship—is to speak the language of Scripture. The Trinity is not a doctrinal ornament; it is the architecture of divine life. It is not a puzzle to solve, but a mystery to enter.

“And when Jesus was baptized… the heavens were opened… the Spirit of God descended… and a voice from heaven said, ‘This is my beloved Son.’” (Matthew 3:16–17)

At the Jordan River, the Trinity is not explained—it is revealed—the distinct persons of the Godhead are manifested together. The Son stands in the water, the Spirit descends like a dove, and the Father speaks. This is not metaphor. It is manifestation. The God who reveals Himself does so in communion. Not as solitary power, but as relational presence.

“I and the Father are one.”

~ John 10:30

“He will glorify me, for he will take what is mine and declare it to you.” (John 16:14)

In John’s Gospel, Jesus unveils divine fellowship. The Son obeys the Father. The Spirit glorifies the Son. The Father sends, the Son redeems, the Spirit indwells. This is not hierarchy—it is harmony.

Scripture reveals that God existed in perfect fellowship before creation. Jesus prays to the Father: ‘glorify me in your own presence with the glory that I had with you before the world existed’ (John 17:5). The Son had glory with the Father before creation—indicating relationship, not solitude.
When God says, ‘Let us make man in our image’ (Genesis 1:26), the plural pronoun suggests divine counsel within the Godhead. This is not the language of loneliness seeking companionship, but of abundance ready to share.

Paul declares that God ‘is not served by human hands, as though he needed anything, since he himself gives to all mankind life and breath and everything’ (Acts 17:25). The God who needs nothing creates everything—not from deficiency, but from fullness.
Therefore, creation flows not from divine emptiness seeking to be filled, but from divine fullness choosing to be shared. The triune God, complete in eternal fellowship, creates to extend—not to acquire—communion.

This means that communion is not optional—it is eternal. Salvation is not merely rescue—it is adoption. We are not just forgiven—we are welcomed into fellowship.

God Is Holy and Just

To know God rightly is to tremble and to trust. Scripture does not present holiness and justice as divine accessories—they are essential attributes, woven into every covenant, every judgment, every act of mercy. God is not merely powerful; He is pure. He is not merely good; He is righteous.

“Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory.”

~ Isaiah 6:3

Isaiah’s vision is not poetic flourish—it is prophetic unveiling. The repetition of “holy” is triadic, echoing the fullness of divine perfection. The seraphim do not cry “love, love, love” or “power, power, power”—they cry “holy.” Holiness is not one attribute among many; it is the sum of all God’s perfections.

Isaiah’s response is telling: “Woe is me!” Holiness exposes. It reveals the chasm between Creator and creature. And yet, in that same vision, a coal is taken from the altar—a symbol of atonement. Holiness does not annihilate; it purifies.

“He will by no means clear the guilty.” (Exodus 34:7)

“He is just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus.” (Romans 3:26)

God’s justice is covenantal. In Exodus 34, God describes Himself as merciful and gracious, but also declares that He will not clear the guilty. This is not contradiction—it is convergence. Justice and mercy meet in the character of God.

Romans 3 reveals the fulfillment: the cross. There, God does not overlook sin—He bears it. He does not compromise justice—He satisfies it. The Son becomes the substitute, so that mercy may be extended without injustice.

God Is Steadfast in Love

If holiness reveals God’s purity and justice His righteousness, then steadfast love unveils His heart. Scripture does not present love as a soft counterbalance to divine severity—it presents it as covenantal fidelity, fierce and unyielding. God’s love is not reactive; it is initiating. Not sentimental, but sacrificial.

“The Lord, the Lord, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness…”

~ Exodus 34:6

When God reveals His name to Moses, He begins with mercy. The Hebrew word hesed—translated “steadfast love”—speaks of loyalty, endurance, and grace that outlasts rebellion.

“Go, take to yourself a wife of whoredom… for the land commits great whoredom by forsaking the Lord.” (Hosea 1:2)

Hosea’s life becomes a living parable. He marries Gomer, who betrays him. Yet he pursues her, redeems her, and loves her still. This is not divine tolerance—it is divine tenacity. God’s love is not blind to sin—it is bound to redemption.

“God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:8)

The cross is the crescendo of love. God does not wait for repentance to initiate rescue. He loves first. He dies first. He rises to bring us home.

“Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:39)

The resurrection is not just vindication—it is invitation. We are not merely acquitted—we are adopted. Steadfast love means permanence. It means that the covenant cannot be broken by circumstance, suffering, or sin.

Why It Matters

The question “Who is God?” is not academic—it is existential. It is not a theological luxury—it is a spiritual necessity. To know God rightly is to live rightly. To misname Him is to misnarrate reality.

“So God created man in his own image…” (Genesis 1:27)

“I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.”

~ Psalm 139:14

To know God is to know ourselves. We are not accidents—we are image-bearers. Our dignity is derivative. Our purpose is relational. The imago Dei is not a concept—it is a calling. Because God is holy, Scripture commands: ‘You shall be holy, for I am holy’ (1 Peter 1:16). Because God is love, we learn that ‘we love because he first loved us’ (1 John 4:19). Because God exists in eternal fellowship, He declares: ‘It is not good that the man should be alone’ (Genesis 2:18), making us for relationship—with Him and with one another.

This matters because identity is under siege. In a world of self-construction, Scripture offers divine design. We are not self-made—we are God-made.

“What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” (Micah 6:8)

“You shall love the Lord your God… and your neighbor as yourself.” (Matthew 22:37–39)

God’s character shapes our conduct. Holiness is not abstract—it is actionable. Justice is not optional—it is required. Love is not a feeling—it is a command.

This matters because morality is often severed from theology. But Scripture refuses that divorce. Ethics flow from essence. To know God is to know what is good, true, and beautiful.

“The Father is seeking such people to worship him…”

~ John 4:23

“Worthy is the Lamb who was slain…” (Revelation 5:12)

Worship is not performance—it is response. It is not entertainment—it is encounter. To know God is to adore Him. To see Him rightly is to sing rightly.

This matters because worship shapes worldview. What we behold, we become. If God is holy, our worship must be reverent. If God is love, our worship must be joyful. If God is triune, our worship must be communal.

To know God is to know the story we’re in. Not a random sequence of events, but a redemptive arc. Creation, fall, redemption, restoration—all authored by the One who is revealed, triune, holy, and steadfast.

This matters because every reader is living a story. And every soul is shaped by the Author they believe in. The question “Who is God?” is not the end—it is the beginning. It is the lens through which every other question finds clarity.

The God Who Speaks Again

“In the beginning, God…”

~ Genesis 1:1

The article began with that unqualified name—God. No explanation, no defense. Just presence. And now, having traced His revelation, His triune communion, His holiness, justice, and steadfast love, we return to that beginning with new eyes.

The God who spoke light into darkness has spoken again—this time through a cross. The God who walked with Adam now walks with us in Christ. The God who thundered at Sinai now whispers by His Spirit. He is not distant. He is not silent. He is not abstract.

He is the God who reveals, the God who redeems, the God who remains.

This matters because every reader is living in a story authored by this God. To know Him is not to master a doctrine—it is to enter a covenant. To behold Him is not to solve a mystery—it is to be transformed by it.

So we return to the beginning, not to repeat it, but to re-read it. “In the beginning, God…” And in the middle, God. And at the end, God.

The question “Who is God?” is not the end of theology—it is the beginning of worship.