Who’s in Charge?
By Martha Elias Downey
Amipotence highlights divine/human collaboration and the interconnectedness of all creation.
Many years ago, I was at a social gathering exchanging pleasantries with a group of women when one of them fixed her gaze on me and asked when I was going to have children. I was taken aback by the prying question and found myself feeling exposed and vulnerable. With no ready answer, at least none that I was comfortable voicing in that setting, I chose to deflect.
“You’ll have to ask the person in charge,” I quipped, hoping no one noticed the flush creeping up my cheeks. By this, I meant that God was ultimately in control of things like birth and death, so it really wasn’t up to me. I presumed it would be a conversation ender. But the persistent woman mistook my meaning and repeated the question, this time directing it at my husband across the room. I didn’t bother to correct her assumption.
Since that interaction, I have often wondered why my impulse was to invoke the sovereignty (supreme power and control) of God. I think the idea that God has all control, and all power was comforting to me. It implied that even when I didn’t have answers, even when things were unclear or uncertain, and even when unexpected and terrible things happened, someone was in charge. It was reassuring to believe that a supreme being knew what they were doing and everything was going to be alright in the end.
That is no longer the case. I am still reassured by the goodness of the Creator and the presence of goodness in Creation, but the idea of an all-powerful deity exercising absolute control strikes me as rather disturbing.
History and experience teach us that even the best-intentioned attempts to control others never end well. And before anyone raises the objection that divine control is markedly different from control exerted by faulty humans, let me point out that the biblical texts as a whole do not present us with a God who is undeniably omnipotent and controlling. From the reciprocal divine/human covenants in Genesis to the divine reversals in response to human intervention (e.g. Moses, Jonah) to stories of Jesus interacting with women who changed his mind (Mary his mother, the Syrophoenician woman), we see a divine predisposition to collaboration, not to ultimate and unilateral control.
In his book, The Death of Omnipotence and Birth of Amipotence, Thomas Jay Oord makes a case for amipotence (the priority of divine love) by demonstrating the implausibility of an all-powerful yet loving God. In his words, “Love can’t be omnipotent.” The reason is that reciprocal love requires all participants to have power, agency, and choice.
I find Oord’s concept of divine amipotence compelling for many of the same reasons that I find divine omnipotence untenable. I offer two of those reasons below. The first relates to passivity, and the second has to do with interconnectedness.
Passivity vs. Action.
When we invoke an almighty God who has ultimate control, whether to explain suffering and injustice or just as a way out of answering a tricky question, we do both divine and human parties a disservice. In the past, I naively assumed that highlighting the sovereignty of God was both humility on my part and a laudable accentuation of God’s all-encompassing power. But I have come to realize that, at least in my case, it was mostly passivity clothed in theological platitudes. Hiding behind omnipotence excused me from difficult responsibilities. I did not have to investigate other perspectives or learn more about complex issues. I did not have to use my resources and influence to address a troubling situation. I did not have to be accountable for how I might have contributed to a problem.
Oord writes: “We best define the love in amipotence as acting intentionally, in relational response to God and others, to promote overall well-being. This definition applies to both divine and creaturely love. The love God and creatures express, in other words, acts with intention, relates with others, and aims to promote flourishing. And because love is inherently uncontrolling, neither divine nor creaturely love controls.”
In a loving relationship, none of the parties are passive, all are active and willing participants. Amipotence, making love the guiding force and tender restraint behind all displays of divine power, recognizes the vital role of human action and engagement. Amipotence promotes mutual collaboration, not unilateral control.
Interconnectedness.
Much of the theology I inherited was steeped in power-based paradigms such as patriarchy, colonization, and exceptionalism. These hierarchical ways of being intentionally rank and separate members of society. Often, the systematized discrimination is accompanied by violence.
Those of us formed within western worldviews and theologies (such as omnipotence) have much to unlearn. Indigenous wisdom teaches us that all knowledge is relational, and that the interconnectedness of all Creation is the basis for action in the world. Indigenous scholar Kathleen E. Absolon notes: “Indigenous worldviews teach people to see themselves humbly within a larger web or circle of life. This web contains our relationship to one another and of all of Creation.” Respect and reverence for all of life are at the core of an interconnected way of being and knowing.
The incarnation event, God becoming human in the person of Jesus, situates the interconnectedness of Creator and Creation at the heart of Christian theology. It affirms that the goodness of the Creator is reflected in all of Creation. It exhorts us to accept the responsibilities inherent in divine/human covenants and human/human treaties. When we view ourselves as collaborators with the divine, inextricably linked to all of Creation, we become committed to the well-being and flourishing of all, not just those who are like us.
Being exposed to different traditions, cultures, and religions has made me aware of the shortcomings of my (largely unexamined) beliefs and traditions, especially the tendency to categorize and distance myself from others instead of looking for how we are all connected.
These days, I have no desire simply to parrot the theological doctrines I inherited. I want to understand how our western supremacy-oriented theologies developed and notice where they deviate from the with-ness of God we find in Jesus. I am learning to recognize where the consolidation of church and power has resulted in harm being done to the most vulnerable in society. I seek to be an apprentice in the work of reconciliation and repair, committed to the well-being of all.
Cole Arthur Riley, founder of Black Liturgies, observes that a desire to dominate disconnects us from our responsibility to care for the world. She states: “We are a people much more concerned with ruling than loving. This is a mistake that positions us in places where we are no longer close enough to another person or thing to perceive its pain or need. To be human in an aching world is to know our dignity and become people who safeguard the dignity of everything about us.”
So many of our metaphors for God equate the divine with the most powerful and often ruthless members of society (landowners, masters, kings), those occupying the upper echelons of society, intentionally disconnected from the lower classes. In contrast, Jesus identifies with the poor, the foreigner, the sick, and the incarcerated.
Sometimes we forget that the biblical texts come to us from a people who were, for the most part, marginalized and oppressed, often struggling to survive. Many of the stories, prophetic utterances, and prayers have adversity and affliction as their backdrop. Laments and cries for justice are commonplace in the biblical texts because suffering and injustice were daily realities.
When the biblical writers appeal to their God, they cry out for someone with a strong right hand, one who can rescue them from dire circumstances. If we are in positions of power and privilege, these biblical pleas for God to exert divine power are not prayers for us to appropriate, but critiques for us to accept. How have we failed to address injustices in our community? How have we neglected the suffering of those around us? How have we hoarded our resources instead of taking care of those in need? How have we been governed by the pursuit of power instead of the practice of love?
Amipotence puts the focus on loving interaction instead of domination and engenders interconnectedness instead of segregation. It places us alongside God in working for the dignity and flourishing of all. Amipotence speaks of a God who humbles the exalted and exalts the humble. This is a God whose power is compelled by creative, collaborative, communal, justice-oriented love.
As I write this, my mother is in end-of-life care. I find myself, once again, feeling somewhat powerless and without ready answers. This time, I have no impulse to defer to a God who controls all things. Instead, I find myself looking for the tender presence of a God who is with us, a God who has experienced the vulnerability of birth and the pain of death. A God who holds life and death in divine hands like a mother holds a baby and like a daughter holds the hand of her dying mother. A God who is guided by love, not by power.
Bio: Martha Elias Downey is the author of Go Wide: reimagining the landscape of theology (Quoir, 2023). She holds a PhD in dramatic theology and has taught theology and spirituality in university and ministry settings. She currently teaches storytelling and writing at Thomas More Institute in Montreal. You can find her various projects and latest musings at www.mattedowney.wordpress.com.
OORD’S DRABBLE* RESPONSE
Martha Elias Downey begins with the question, “Who is in charge?” and expresses concern over the idea of an all-controlling God. She finds amipotence compelling for two main reasons. First, classical omnipotence can lead to passivity, encouraging people to expect God to do everything. Amipotence, by contrast, invites mutual collaboration and active participation. Second, it resonates with our diverse, interconnected world of cultures, religions, and traditions. Amipotence emphasizes loving interaction over domination. It calls us to join God in working for the dignity and flourishing of all. Downey’s vision is one of divine tenderness—vulnerable, relational, and always led by love.
For more on Oord’s view of how open and relational thinkers view God’s power, see this article.
* A drabble is an essay exactly 100 words in length.