Can We Really Say God is Love?

Where Theology Begins

Coming out of last Sunday, I posed a question that's stirred some important reflection: can we really say God is love? Not just that God shows love or does loving things, but that love is the essential, definitional concept at the core of who God is.

This isn't just semantics. It's about how we read Scripture, how we interpret divine actions, and ultimately how we understand our place in the story. Because if God is love, then everything else—God's anger, God's judgment, even God's wrath—must be refracted through that love. God isn't angry in spite of love; God is angry because of love—angry at what tears love apart.

A Challenge from Scripture

After the sermon, someone shared an article by John Stackhouse, a conservative evangelical theologian. He argued against taking 1 John 4 ("God is love") as a foundational description of God. His point? The same writer also says in chapter 1 that "God is light." For Stackhouse, these are moral teachings for how we relate to God—not theological definitions of God's essence.

And he's right—at least about the biblical text. The idea that "God is love" doesn't come strictly from 1 John 4. That verse hints at it, yes. But the argument is theological, not textual. To really explore it, we need to talk about Trinity. And eventually, process theology.

Love Rooted in Trinity

The Trinity—Father, Son, and Spirit—is more than metaphor. It's the church's ancient way of articulating a profound mystery: that God is, from before the beginning, loving community.

God doesn't need someone else to love, because God is already a dynamic interplay of love within God's self. This means that love isn't something God does—it's who God is. It's primary, eternal. In contrast, wrath, judgment, and even holiness are responses within a relational context. They're not eternal qualities, because they require something outside God to make sense.

Holiness, for example, means being set apart. But set apart from what? Without creation, that category doesn’t even apply. So we say love is definitional; the rest are relational.

Stretching Our Minds: Process Theology

Now, if you're still with me—let's stretch even further.

Process theologians talk about all existence as relational. Not just in terms of people or communities, but down to the subatomic level. Particles relate to particles. Forces hold atoms together in patterns. Relationship is the fabric of reality.

So what does that mean for God?

Historically, thinkers like Augustine and Aquinas said God is unchanging, unaffected by creation. The "unmoved mover." That idea of perfection—unchanging, unmoving—is drawn from Greek philosophy, not the Hebrew imagination.

In Genesis, God creates a good world—not a perfect one. A world that evolves, grows, changes. Humans beget humans. Animals multiply. Plants reproduce. The biblical "good" is dynamic.

Process theology taps into that earlier vision. It says God is not static. God is perfect relationship. And that means God is impacted by the world. God gives up control to be in genuine relationship with us.

So How Do We Know God is Good?

If God can be moved, can be changed, what guarantees God won't give up on us?

Here's the beautiful part: process theology takes us back to love. Before anything existed, God was already love—a community of giving and receiving. That part of God, the concrete pole, never changes. God is always love.

But there's also the contingent pole: God's interaction with creation. That part is dynamic. God responds to us—with joy, grief, frustration, delight. Relationship is real. But even as God's emotional engagement shifts, God’s essence remains love.

This is what allows us to re-read our scriptures—not as a static rulebook, but as a dynamic unfolding of God’s love in human history. A love most clearly revealed in Jesus.

Living Into the Mystery

This is the journey we’re on. Not just to believe in love, but to believe that love is the foundation of everything. That God is love. That love is the ground of all being.

And if that’s true, then the way we respond matters. Because when we lean into love—when we live in ways that reflect divine community—we align ourselves with the very nature of God. We participate in the eternal dance.

So can we really say God is love? Yes. Not because it’s written in a verse, but because it is written into the very being of God. And that changes everything.