Open

“What would constitute proof to you of God’s existence?” I recently asked an atheistic acquaintance. He replied that God would have to reveal himself in such a way that it would be apparent to the entire world that he was indeed God. Of course, this answer may not be every unbeliever’s request for theistic evidence, yet this response surfaces at least three components regarding awareness of God: human perception, God’s integrity, and human integrity.
    I was born into a particular culture and time. I could not avoid it. My present perceptions are clouded, or clarified, by my setting. Therefore, if the God of the universe were to reveal himself all at once in one glaringly apparent brilliant episode, then it’s reasonably likely I would have a hard time making sense of what I was seeing. Whether I would even survive the encounter is another matter.  And I say this as a believer in him already. So I’m not even addressing how peoples unfamiliar with God would comprehend this revelation. It’s likely we would have a variety of different accounts of what we witnessed--once again, if we would even survive the encounter. We would try to make sense of the experience in terms of pre-existing perceptions.  This unavoidably timeless human condition Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel describes in his acclaimed text, The Prophets (1962): “What impairs our sight are habits of seeing as well as the mental concomitants of seeing. Our sight is suffused with knowing, instead of feeling painfully the lack of knowing what we see.” We do not, cannot, even will not, take in pure reality because we are finite (limited) and fallen (bent and self-absorbed). Since God would be the Ultimate Reality,  our “habits of seeing” would color the whole encounter with him; in fact, they do already.
    Secondly, God’s integrity, as I understand it, does not lend itself well to his roaming the earth revealing himself to just anybody. As the perfectly complete whole being, his integrity and self-respect prevent him from disclosing himself to those uninterested in seeking him. As healthy human beings do not reveal themselves to those not genuinely interested in them, God is discerning with whom he shares himself.  Not surprisingly then, experiences of God are rather limited to those open and seeking such encounters. And those not so open or seeking would consequently have fewer to no experiences of God. Therefore, belief in God transcends morality, intellect, wealth, ethnicity--it’s primarily a matter of seeking openness. God condescends to anyone seeking. Like every genuine relationship, it begins with some desire. I realize the analogy has its limits, but I’m not inclined to share who I am with people not desiring a relationship with me. I’m not sure why we would expect God to be different in this regard.
    Further, God’s wise hesitancy in forcing revelation upon humans also has to do with our character and freedom. God desires a genuine, transparent relationship with us. Forcing belief via undeniable encounters with him trumps our capacity for responsive integrity. Dr. Terence Fretheim in The Suffering of God (1984) confirms the importance of potential unbelief: “For God to be fully present would be coercive; faith would be turned into sight and humankind could not but believe.”  Instead, “[t]rue human life is possible only if the vision of God is of such a nature that disbelief remains possible. The concern is not to keep people ignorant, but to preserve them.”  We are well familiar with the tragic accounts of people being forced into any variety of beliefs, relational manipulations and acquiescences--mirages of trust and relationship rather than the freedom and subsequent vulnerability of authenticity.  It ought not be surprising that the God of reality would prefer sincerity.
    So how does God navigate the following: Initiating a relationship with the open and seeking among us, while revealing himself within the confines of our perceptions, while not overwhelming or forcing our wills into belief, all the while developing an authentic relationship with us, the kind of relationship that invites maturation into the kind of humanity that holds healing and hope--salvation--for the world? 
    Is it any surprise that the Bible, the prime source we have regarding our and God’s shared history, would be inspiring, complicated, transforming, messy, hopeful, disconcerting, vast, specific, historical, futuristic, metaphorical, literal, confusing, clarifying, dark, enlightening, tragic, beautiful, healing, discombobulating . . . even rather overwhelming? Could it be other?  To open it is to begin “to see in a mirror dimly” (I Corinthians 13). To keep it closed is to dim the lights of our awareness, regardless of levels of belief.