This is part 5 of a series on the Apostles’ Creed through the lens of Ben Myers’ book The Apostles’ Creed: A Guide to the Ancient Catechism as well as Brother David Steindl-Rast’s book Deeper Than Words: Living the Apostles’ Creed.
So far in this series I’ve talked about the sacramental (not just educational) nature of the creeds, who the “I” is that believes the Apostles’ Creed, what it means to say that we “believe” in God, and why we name God as “Father.” The very next word is another tough one for many of us: “almighty”.
Much like naming God as “Father,” proclaiming that God is “almighty” has become difficult for people today, and for good reason. When we think about power, we are reminded of abusive leaders who have leveraged their power to create systems of domination and control. “The word almighty tends to lure us into misunderstandings,” Stendl-Rast says, “It conjures up images of some super-king who makes everyone and everything obey his will.” Because of this, some people think we ought to stop saying God is “almighty” because of all the negative connotations.
Power in weakness
But I think it’s better to reclaim the biblical and creedal language if we can, by understanding what is actually meant by the term. Myers points out that Christian teaching doesn’t understand “might” and “power” in this way at all.
The early Christians often compared God to a breastfeeding mother: it is a favorite image in numerous sermons and writings from the ancient church. We relate to God not like loyal subjects submitting to a powerful ruler, but like infants drawing nourishment from a mother… Augustine described the divine power as “maternal love, expressing itself as weakness.”
Stendl-Rast points out that naming God as “Father” before we declare God to be “almighty” is revealing. “We do not speak of an omnioptent God, but first call God Father and then proclaim our faith that God—as Father—is almighty.”
Furthermore, God’s power is not sporadic and occasional, like the pagans gods who intervene in the world every once in awhile. “God’s might is everywhere present in creation. It is the underlying mystery of everything that exists. It is not just a solution to problems in this world. It is the reason there is a world at all.”
The fact that God is “almighty” and not just “mighty” means that God does not need to compete with other powers in the universe, vying for control. An “almighty” God is totally free to “relate to the world with total love, patience, and generosity.”
True power is not the ability to control. Controlling behavior is a sign of weakness and insecurity. True power is the ability to love and enable without reserve. God’s power, like the power of a good parent or teacher, is the capacity to nourish other agents and to help their freedom to grow.
Love is almighty
We go astray when we imagine God’s power to be the same kind of power we see expressed in domination and control. The truth is that God’s power is a different kind of power altogether. It’s not the power of control, it’s the power of love. And it’s hard for us to imagine that this isn’t a limitation of God’s power, as if love is a “lesser” power than control. This is because our notions of power have been twisted by our experience of domination and control, and because the power of God’s love often appears to us as weakness.
But what if the power of control is actually an expression of weakness and insecurity, and the power of love actually transcends and subverts the power of control? What if love is the “almighty” power that will eventually enfold the whole world in its embrace? What if saying that God is almighty is the same thing as saying that God is love? What if God’s power has been constantly operating in a hidden way since the dawn of creation?
God is invisibly almighty in the act of creation, invisibly almighty in the womb of the Virgin, invisibly almighty in the darkness of the tomb, invisibly almighty in the company of believers and in the communal life they share. The world lives because of this gentle but all-embracing power, and we are free because of it.
As Stendl-Rast puts it, “Nothing is omnipotent except love.”
Next in this series: The Good Creator of Everything Good
Thank you for this, Ben. I'm looking forward to diving into the two books you recommended on the creeds!
When we try to understand God by piling on abstract adjectives like “ almighty”, “ omnipotent” or “all-knowing,” we often do more harm than good. These words can feel like intellectual gymnastics, contorting language just to make God’s nature fit neatly into human categories. The result? Sophistry—a clever-sounding explanation that ultimately avoids wrestling with the real mystery of God and suffering.
If God truly is “all-powerful” in the usual sense, why does pain and injustice persist? Attempts to answer this question by redefining “power” or “might” often sound like evasions rather than honest engagement. They tend to gloss over the very real experience of human brokenness.
Instead, understanding God should start with Jesus—who reveals God not as a distant, controlling force, but as a loving Father who enters into weakness, suffering, and vulnerability. Trying to return to abstract, creedal terms without this grounding risks missing the whole point of Christian faith.
Labels like “almighty” and “omnipotent” mean little if they don’t connect to the God who loves sacrificially and suffers alongside creation. Using these terms as a first step can distract us, pulling attention away from the lived reality of God’s love revealed in Christ.
In short, trying to explain God by these heavy, impersonal words often sounds like dressing up an uncomfortable mystery in fancy clothes—when what we really need is to meet God in the concrete, messy reality of Jesus.