Canst thou by searching find out God? Canst
thou find out the Almighty to perfection?
It is as high as heaven; what canst thou
do? Deeper than hell: what canst
thou know?
Job 11
Indeed! Can we find God by searching? Is God empirically quantifiable? Or is God a subjective experience of
humanity? Is this divine immanence
something that we learn within our human society and personal experience?
Note that, in this passage from
Job, it is the knowledge of the
divine itself that is as high as heaven…and deeper than hell. Thus the rhetorical
question, but one very worthy of consideration: What canst thou know?
What can we know? This is not a question to be dismissed in a
cavalier manner. It is not intended to
be answered by quoting other biblical passages as a propositional response. To do so is to miss the point. God is something not directly knowable, or
even searchable, in the way we think of verifiable knowledge. The book of Job is actually better at asking
some intriguing questions than at providing pat answers. And Job 11 is just one group of those
questions.
Yes, God is in heaven and, we now
know, in hell too. But there is
something else as high as heaven and actually deeper than hell. And that is the finding out of God. God is found in our most sublime experiences
of life. God is found in our deepest
tragedies of life. We live and move in
this divine immanence. We live and move
in connection with others. I cannot
“find out God” by direct search, by empirical enquiry. There is no essence to distill nor double
blind test to devise. By whatever name,
this presence in homo sapiens is a
light that we all know. God is
light. God is love. Biblical quotations and allusions to a deeper
truth and experience.
Whether it is Ursala Goodenough
writing The Sacred Depths of Nature or
John Calvin writing his Institutes of the
Christian Religion or the new Bible translation Jesus and the Presence of Mystery or even Rumi dancing in his Sufi way toward divine
contemplation, we are all feeling our
way to both name and to describe this indwelling sense that we often feel. Even
Richard Dawkins’ affection for his bumper sticker “Atheists for Jesus” reflects this same impulse. Sunsets radiating
beauty; babies cooing in our arms; or knowing peace in the midst of a very
tough situation: these are all part of that searching out of our sense of what the
divine-human mystery might be.
But when we misapprehend a figure
of speech, when we literally anthropomorphize the idea of God, then we have
rendered ourselves incapable of finding the real presence of that which we so
loudly proclaim and so fervently believe.
The result is evident around us: the strong need of so many to control
others, to conform them to the anthropomorphized entity that they have so
sincerely and so misguidedly created.