Eternal in Love: A Little Book about a Big God. By R. T. Mullins. Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2024. 178 pp. $40 (hardcover), $25 (paper).
Ryan Mullins’s Eternal in Love may be described as a “little book,” but it is anything but small in substance. It is short, yes. It is concise in its prose, certainly. But calling it little risks misleading the reader into thinking this is merely a lightweight or cursory treatment of the doctrine of God. That would be a mistake. This work is accessible and eminently readable, particularly for the thoughtful layperson or the student entering theological waters for the first time. Yet it is also rich, substantive, and, in some respects, quietly ambitious. Mullins has managed something rare: he provides a book that works as a primer while engaging the complexities of the doctrine of God with philosophical and theological rigor.
In many ways, Mullins’s approach recalls Thomas Morris’s classic Our Idea of God. Like Morris, Mullins frames his discussion around what might be called the “creation concept” of God—a concept grounded in God’s relationship to the world and, in particular, to human creatures. He begins by expanding on this notion of God as Creator, but quickly moves beyond mere definition. For Mullins, thinking well about God requires thinking deeply about why there is a creation at all. Why did God create? And what kind of world did God choose to bring into being? These questions, so often glossed over, become the pivot for Mullins’s exploration of God’s nature and purposes.
From here, Mullins proceeds in an almost Anselmian fashion. His concern is not merely to rehearse traditional doctrines but to probe the implications of God’s eternal love for the act of creation itself. If God is love, what does this tell us about the divine reasons for creating, the nature of providence, and the ultimate purposes of redemption? These questions animate the book, giving it both coherence and urgency. Mullins situates his reflections in a wide-ranging discussion that includes Calvinism, Molinism, and Open Theism. Importantly, he does not caricature these positions but treats each with care, engaging some of the best representatives and literature associated with these views. Readers will find concise yet accurate summaries of these frameworks, along with Mullins’s own constructive proposals.
One of the most impressive features of the book is its scholarly care. Far too often, mainstream introductions to the doctrine of God offer little more than surface-level treatments—simplistic to the point of distortion. Mullins avoids this pitfall. While his style is readable, his engagement is philosophically precise and theologically informed. For instance, his discussion of divine providence and the problem of evil is not a mere apologetic gesture. Rather, he wrestles with how certain goods—goods that make sense of a world like ours—can emerge in light of suffering, without reducing the mystery of evil to trite formulas.
Does this make the book an easy read? Hardly. Eternal in Love is approachable, but it is not effortless. It will stretch readers, as it should. Mullins assumes a posture of intellectual honesty, resisting the temptation to over-simplify complex matters. This makes it an excellent resource for undergraduate courses on God and creation, and I fully intend to use it in the classroom. Its brevity belies its depth, which is why it could serve as a standard introduction for years to come. My only quibble is aesthetic: the font size could have been slightly larger to do justice to the quality of the text. A minor complaint, but one worth noting for publishers who hope to see this book widely adopted.
Beyond its pedagogical value, the book offers another gift: it challenges assumptions. For those who affirm what is often called “Classical theism,” Mullins poses important and sometimes uncomfortable questions. He takes aim at certain articulations of divine simplicity, immutability, and impassibility—positions widely associated with the Thomistic tradition. To be clear, Mullins is not dismissive; he is constructive. His critiques invite fresh engagement, and in my judgment, traditionalists would do well to listen rather than hand-wave his concerns. There is nothing to be gained by dismissing his work as if it were an exercise in novelty. Indeed, I would argue the opposite: Mullins offers an opportunity for classical theists to expand and refine their categories, moving beyond what has sometimes become an idiosyncratic narrowing of the tradition. There is space here for a more generous and expansive account of classical theism—one that acknowledges legitimate criticisms while preserving the substance of the tradition.
In this sense, Mullins’s book occupies a rare and important space. It is deeply informed, unapologetically philosophical, and yet pastoral in tone. It invites dialogue rather than demanding allegiance to a pre-constructed system. That alone is refreshing in a theological climate often dominated by polemics.
How should we assess the significance of this work? In my view, Eternal in Love deserves to be treated as the new standard introduction to the doctrine of God—superseding, or at least complementing, Morris’s Our Idea of God. That is not faint praise. Mullins ventures into topics Morris did not address, such as the contours of a “friendly universe” and the nuances of providence in a suffering world. These discussions are timely, especially for readers grappling with contemporary questions about meaning, purpose, and divine goodness in a fractured age.
Dare I say, then, that this “little book” is, in fact, a big achievement? It will provoke, challenge, and edify. It will not satisfy every reader—what book on God ever could?—but it will serve as a worthy conversation partner for those willing to think deeply about the God who is eternal in love. Take up and read. Digest it, criticize it, and discuss it. You will be better for having done so.
