God Cannot Change

Most of life is nothing but change if you think about it. Everything is either growing or shrinking, strengthening or decaying, acting or being acted upon. I can't think of anything off the top of my head that doesn't experience change.

Except, of course, for God.

And we desperately need an unchanging God. We need to know that even when everything else around us does give way or could give way, there is One who cannot and will not give way. If we don't have such a rock to rest upon, we'll lose our minds trying to find or create some source of stability on our own.

Thankfully, God offers himself to us as just such a solid place to stand upon. We are, as the apostle Paul wrote, being built upon Christ the cornerstone (Ephesians 2:20). Christ is a rock which cannot be shaken (cf. Psalm 62:2, 6; Psalm 125:1). Now, that's a nice and sentimental thing to say -- but how can we know that it's true? In other words, how can we know that God will not and cannot change when it seems that everything must eventually change? 

It Was Not Possible

In Acts 2:24, as Peter is preaching on the day of Pentecost, he describes Christ's resurrection in a rather unusual way.

"God raised him up, loosing the pangs of death, because it was not possible for him to be held by it" (Acts 2:24, emphasis mine).

To put it another way, God raised Jesus from the dead because it was impossible for death to hold Jesus. There's a buried pearl hidden in this statement, shining out with the brilliance of God's unchangeable nature.

We start with the reality of death. The devil is described as the slave master who subjects all of humanity to himself through fear of death (Hebrews 2:15). Until the restoration of all things, death comes for us all, believer and unbeliever alike, just and unjust, innocent and guilty. We do not possess the power to overcome death on our own. We are bound in unbreakable iron shackles.

But then comes Christ, and he is stronger than Satan, for he binds him and plunders his house and breaks his power; indeed, he even conquers death by dying (Mark 3:27, Hebrews 2:14). Now, at the point when Jesus gave up the ghost on the cross, it would certainly seem that death was the one exercising the power, wouldn't it? Yet as it turned out, Jesus was the greater Samson: for the bonds of death, which proved unbreakable for us, were only strands of flimsy flax for Jesus (cf. Judges 15:14).

In other words, Christ is stronger than all things -- including Satan and death. He only died because he laid his life down -- and he had the authority to take it up again (John 10:18). Death could not force him down anymore than I could move the Empire State Building with just my own two hands. In that sense, then, it was not possible for Christ to be held by death. Christ proved once and for all by his resurrection that there is nothing and no one stronger than him, and thus he proved that he is the blessed God over all (Romans 9:5).

No Shadow Due to Change

From this fact, we can draw out our good reasons for believing that God will not and cannot change. Now, without getting too deep into the metaphysics here, when I refer to change, I am referring to changes in essence. That is to say, when God says that he was, is, and is to come (Revelation 1:8), or when he says that his purpose is unchangeable (Hebrews 6:17-18), or when he says that in him there is no shadow due to change (James 1:17), he means it. He who is good and does good will not change what goodness is like some fickle teenager (Psalm 119:68), because he in his essence cannot change. 

Now, how can we trust that this is indeed true? Well, in order for change in its strictest form to take place, something stronger must act upon something weaker. This is true in both the material and non-material realm. For instance, if I want to lift an object (thus changing its position), then I must be stronger than the object I wish to lift. If I try to curl a 75 pound barbell, that barbell isn't going to budge, because I do not possess the strength to curl it. If I wanted to pick it up with both hands and just lug it around, I could do that, I suppose, but everyone at the gym would look at me sideways.

Or if I want to convince someone to let go of one philosophical position and hold instead to another philosophical position (thus changing their mind), then I must present a stronger position than the one to which they currently hold. I need to utilize clear, well-reasoned premises, and demonstrate how they logically lead to the conclusions I'm arguing for. Now, granted, I could actually argue for a position that has no philosophical merit -- but if my philosophy muscles are generally stronger than the philosophy muscles of the person I'm talking to, I might still be able to change their position.

Christ Is Stronger

I'm sure you could think of all manner and variation of this concept. Change happens when something weaker gives way to something stronger, to whatever degree that may be. Change happens when something stronger acts upon or "moves" something weaker. And so on.

Now, if this premise holds up, then here is what that means: in order for God to change, there must be something in the universe that is stronger than him; but by his resurrection, Christ proved himself stronger than all things; therefore, God cannot change. This does not exclude the reality that God progressively revealed his plan to his people, nor does it exclude the reality that we experience a certain progression of God's revelation of himself (cf. Ephesians 3:4-12) -- but  it does mean that we can always trust that God will always be God, that he will always be good, and that he will always do what is best for his people. We do not need to fear that God will suddenly change his standards on a whim.

He is the only solid rock upon which we can build our lives. Let us rest upon him. Let us flee to Jesus for refuge, knowing that it was impossible even for death to bind him -- and knowing that he has promised the same victory to us.