The Unity of Divine Attributes: A Lesson from Les Misérables
The claim that God has no accidents has some important implications. For example, we saw that God is identical to both his essence and his existence, and for similar reasons God must also be identical to all of his attributes. Further, since God has no potentiality, it could not be the case that God exhibits some of his attributes at some times but not at others, but, as identical with all of his attributes, God is always perfectly exhibiting any attribute that he possesses.
Such implications have struck many as odd, perhaps even implausible, for a number of reasons. For example, among other things, God has attributes that are not obviously the same thing, such as being both omnipresent and omnibenevolent. But there is no overlap between these distinct attributes, and having one does not entail having the other. Further, not only does God possess seemingly distinct attributes such as these, but he also appears to possess contradictory attributes, such as being perfectly just and also perfectly merciful. But if it is the case that God has no accidents, then any attributes that we identify in God, including the seemingly contradictory ones, are included in God’s essence/existence, and are always fully actualized.
How can this be? These sorts of claims are deeply puzzling, and many philosophers of religion reject the doctrine of divine simplicity because it appears so implausible on such points.
Yet while it is impossible to address this fully here, we nevertheless have resources at our disposal to mitigate such worries. Consider an example from Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables. Jean Valjean is sent to prison for stealing bread to feed his starving family, and over many years in jail he has grown deeply bitter at the injustice of his imprisonment. But, eventually, Valjean gets out of prison, and as he travels through the countryside he happens upon the home of a bishop, who, unlike everyone else that he has encountered, treats him with great kindness and compassion, even inviting him to stay the night in his own home. But despite such treatment, Valjean secretly steals the bishop’s silver and escapes in the middle of the night. He is soon caught, and the silver is recognized as belonging to the bishop, so the authorities bring him back to the bishop’s home so that the bishop can confirm that it is his silver and press charges. But rather than prosecuting Valjean, the bishop once again greets Valjean with great kindness and insists that he gave the silver to Valjean as a gift; he even hands him the matching silver candlesticks, claiming that he forgot them in his haste to leave.
The bishop would have been well within his rights to send Valjean back to jail. This would have been perfectly just. But given Valjean’s history, if he had done this Valjean would have only become more bitter, likely seeing himself as, for example, having had a right to take the silver, perhaps as recompense for his previously unjust incarceration. To put this another way, while another imprisonment may have been just, Valjean would not have recognized the justice of his new incarceration but would have viewed himself as a victim of an unfair system. This would in turn have contributed to his inability to recognize his own guilt. But by responding to this betrayal and theft with a profound kindness – by showing him mercy – the bishop impressed upon Valjean that he was guilty, and Valjean felt his guilt far more keenly than he would have if the bishop had acted with justice instead of mercy. In fact, if we take Valjean’s disposition and history into account, and if we think that for justice to occur it would be better for the wrongdoer to recognize his guilt, then if the bishop had prosecuted Valjean it would have prevented justice from obtaining. Indeed, given the details of the situation, by acting with mercy the bishop was also acting with justice.
What this example intends to illustrate is that in one act the bishop was both merciful and just – merciful in that he did not require Valjean to pay for his crime, and just in that showing mercy was the only way to “punish” Valjean and impress upon him his guilt. So, even though justice and mercy appear to be contradictory, they can be complementary, and in some cases they can be a single action. While this does not show how we can reconcile all of God’s seemingly diverse attributes into a single act, it should at least hint at a means by which we can avoid some of the objections to the claim that God has no accidents.