Who is God?
A People Called Methodist • Sermon • Submitted • Presented
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Imagine a crackle over a dispatcher’s line, “House fire— 518 Maple Street—child inside.” In minutes, the suburban calm dissolves: fire engines roar in sirens blaring, hoses snaked across lawns, and neighbors gathered in breathless clusters, baking in the heat emanating from the concrete structure. Above it all, the roof glows crimson as smoke coils into the sky. And somewhere inside, a toddler trembles, alone and frightened.
The firefighters suit up at the curb. They measure the risk—the heat, the falling rafters, the thick smoke. All the training in the world could not eliminate the danger. But then one brave soul—helmet visor down, boots laced—breaks from the team. They sprint to the front door, kick it in, and disappear into the inferno. Moments later, they emerge, soot on their face and tears in their eyes, cradling the little one. No bravado. No hesitation. Only a resolve born of love.
That image burns in my mind, because something in that moment whispers of a greater rescue: a God who runs into our flames to save us—not because we earn it, but because the nature of who God is can be described as holy love.
Today we begin a new sermon series called “A People Called Methodist” where we are looking at the fundamental beliefs that we hold as United Methodists. Essentially, this is like confirmation class for adults. We are going to go through some really essential questions each week, and this week we begin with a simple question — perhaps the most important question that we will ever ponder, because our answer to this question shapes every answer to every other question we will ever ask. That question is: Who is God?
In one of my very first classes as a theological undergrad I was given an assignment to ask this question on social media. And boy, the answers that I got were inspiring, comical, and at times down right sad. So perhaps the internet is not the best place to try to find an actual answer to our question. Perhaps there’s somewhere a little more authoritative.
So let’s answer the question by turning to the texts written by the people whom God first revealed themself. The scriptures of the Hebrew people, the scriptures that are today referred to as our Old Testament. They tell us the story of who God is as God was experienced though the people of Israel. It’s as much their story as it is God’s story.
Israel’s journey with God began with liberation: a man named Moses, raised in Pharaoh’s palace, answered God’s call at the burning bush and led the people out of slavery in Egypt. God says to Moses “I have heard the cry of my people Israel, and I have seen their suffering.” And so through a series of interventions God causes Pharaoh to let God’s people go. They cross the Red Sea — their feet touching dry sand while behind them they watched water swallow the tyranny they had just escaped as Pharaoh’s army drown in the sea because he changed his mind and pursued them. Then they camped at Sinai—a grand moment of redemption.
Moses ascended Sinai’s peak to receive God’s law—two stone tablets inscribed by the finger of God. Forty days passed. But at the foot of the mountain, fear and impatience took hold. Israel fashioned a golden calf, proclaimed, “These are your gods,” and danced before it. The Covenant that God had made with them was already shattered.
When Moses descended and saw the idol, anger flared. He hurled the tablets to the ground, smashing them. Israel’s sin was profound: they traded the living God for a lifeless image. And yet, God did not withdraw from them. After Moses’ plea, God relented from total destruction but declared the covenant broken.
Then came Exodus 34: God calls Moses back up Sinai. The first tablets lie in ruins. But God’s mercy remains. God chooses not to condemn immediately, but to reveal God’s own character, that Israel might know: even after the worst betrayal, mercy endures.
The Lord passed before him, and proclaimed, “The Lord, the Lord, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness,
This is God naming God’s - self: let’s look at each of these statements that God makes:
“The LORD, the LORD”: the covenant name (YHWH) repeated, signaling intimacy and unwavering commitment. The first time that Moses encountered God, through a burning bush, they told Moses that he would be the one to free the Hebrews from slavery in Egypt. And Moses said whoah, well if I’m going to do this I need to know who to tell them sent me. And God responds by saying I AM WHO I AM. And so the name YHWH — which really means the something like “always and forever.” In the Hebrew language saying the same word twice in a row is a way of creating emphasis. So this is how enthusiastic God is about the statement that is about to be made. Its promissory — this is who I am “always and forever”
Merciful and gracious: God is saying listen here’s what I offer to you as the core of my being: I have compassion that meets you in your failure; I have grace that extends unearned favor towards you for no reason other than I have deep love for you. Then God goes on…
Slow to anger: This means that God’s justice is patient, allowing space for repentance. It doesn’t say that God doesn’t get angry or disappointed with sin and with people, but it does say that God leaves space between the sin and God’s feelings towards it. And this is really important because sometimes we are taught quite the opposite.
Abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness: This is covenant love that never quits; faithfulness that persists through generations. God is faithful to us — always and forever.
This divine self-proclamation sets the foundation for all subsequent revelation: rescue over retribution, relationship over regulation, grace and love over judgement and wrath.
So, If Exodus 34:6 reveals God’s nature, the New Testament reveals God’s shape—the Trinity.
Before Jesus is arrested and faces the cross, he prays to the father on behalf of humans…
“I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word,
that they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me.
The glory that you have given me I have given them, so that they may be one, as we are one,
I in them and you in me, that they may become completely one, so that the world may know that you have sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me.
We glimpse here the mystery of the mutual indwelling of Father, Son, as well as the Holy Spirit which we are told dwells in Jesus at this time, and our invitation into that divine fellowship.
At the end of Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus gives the disciples these parting words:
And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.
Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,
and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”
Three persons, one name—uniting us to the triune life and sending us in mission. This is probably the hardest thing for us to wrap our minds around, which is in part why I have been intentionally using the term “they” for God in this sermon. God has eternally existed as the trinity and we don’t know how to actually wrap our minds around it. It’s a mystery, but the substance of that mystery is the beautiful truth about the very nature of God. God has eternally existed as a community of love amongst themselves.
So for you analytical minds, The Trinity is not a riddle to be solved but rather is a living reality of relational, self-giving love. Before creation, God existed in fellowship; and that means something very important about us. We, made in that image, are created for relationship rather than isolation. But more on that later in this series.
Back to our friend the Firefighter. They did not dash into the blaze for thrills or fame. They ran because compassion compelled them. Their training enabled him, but love drove them.
Similarly, God’s holiness is not aloof or punitive—it compels rescue.
There is a lot of toxic theology in our world that describes the nature of God as wrathful. I have been in discussions that have turned almost into arguments with pastors and people of faith who insist that God is angry with human beings to the point of demanding their destruction because of sin. And listen I’m a parent and a pastor and a human and I get it — when people fail it ticks me off. But it doesn’t tick me off and give me a desire to destroy. It ticks me off and motivates me to wish for changed behavior. Look what Paul says:
Or do you despise the riches of his kindness and forbearance and patience? Do you not realize that God’s kindness is meant to lead you to repentance?
And I think that this is what the Hellfire and Brimstone preachers and believers have gotten wrong. God does not desire to destroy people who fail. God desires to rescue.
In the golden calf crisis, God’s justice could have let the fire consume Israel’s unfaithfulness. God could have said “I’ll start over. Actually, God did say this in jest to Moses just a few verses earlier. But Moses said that’s not who you are! And God said correct. You passed the test. Therefore, God declared: “I am merciful…” In Christ, God incarnate wades into human despair, bearing our sins on the cross. This is not the activity of a God who thinks that we are so awful that we deserve eternal damnation. This is the activity of a God who wants far better for us than we could put words to. This is the activity of a God who sees more of us and more for us that we can see for ourselves.
God’s mercy is the fire that transforms without destroying. God’s anger is real but measured, slow to develop and is more so directed at systems of evil than it is at sinners. God’s steadfast love saves the vulnerable.
Because God is the merciful, gracious, patient, steadfast lover, we—God’s people—are called to mirror that character:
Personal holiness: We are called to let God’s mercy shape our hearts in prayer, Scripture, and sacrament, becoming vessels of grace.
Social holiness: We are called to extend compassion, justice, and hospitality to neighbors, the marginalized, the oppressed.
John Wesley insisted, “The gospel of Christ knows no holiness but social holiness.” Our faith is not a private affair but a public witness—proclaiming Christ by word and deed.
Perhaps you’ve lived under fear of wrath, believing punishment precedes mercy. Hear Exodus 34:6 as Good News: God’s first impulse is mercy and grace.
If you’ve not yet embraced that rescue, today is your invitation: come and follow Jesus, come and step into the community of holy love. If your heart has been “strangely warmed,” you are sent out: in Christ’s name to rescue others from despair, to speak hope into darkness, to embody justice.
Who is God? God is holy love—merciful, gracious, slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love. God is Triune fellowship—Father, Son, and Spirit—inviting us into that community of love. God runs into our flames, carries us out, then sends us forth to extend that rescue.
May your heart burn with compassion. May our community shine with steadfast love. And may we all live as the beloved community of the Triune God.
In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
