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"Oh, teach me in each moment of every 'Now' to know that You are the 'Here' in all my wandering, and the 'Yes' in all my wondering, and the Love in nothing less than everything."- Meister Eckhart
I had mentioned in another place that the letter Aleph (א) at the end of the word vayikra ("and he called") is written smaller than the other letters in the word, which the sages say represents the humility of God - both in his condescension to be known by human beings, but also in his willingness to be "sacrificed" by making room for us within the creation. Just as the Cloud of Glory so overwhelmed the Mishkan (Tabernacle) so that Moses himself was unable to enter (Exod. 40:35), so all of reality is filled with God's glory, and thankfully God has made a place for us by means of his sacrifice... This idea is sometimes called "tzitzum" (צימצום) in Jewish theology, which means God had to "contract" or "empty" himself in order to make space for the created universe (the idea was expressed in the Christian doctrine of "kenosis," or the emptying of God in the incarnation of Yeshua).
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Existentially speaking, there is an ambivalence regarding how we may relate to God. On the one hand, drawing close to God is a dangerous prospect. When Moses first encountered the LORD at the burning bush, for example, he was afraid to look upon God and was told not to draw near because the place was holy (Exod. 3:5). Moses was afraid because God was transcendent, holy, unapproachable, incomprehensibly powerful and unutterably glorious. This unease or dread is called yirat Adonai (יראת ה), or the "fear of the LORD."
On the other hand, drawing close to God is the heart's greatest desire (and need), and blessedness is found as we learn to trust in Him and know Him in all our ways (Prov. 3:5-6). This is called devakut (דבקות), or "cleaving" to the LORD in communion and surrender to his grace (Deut. 10:20). The ambivalence arises because the Scriptures teach that we should both fear and love the Lord -- seemingly contradictory and antithetical passions within the soul (Deut. 10:12; Psalm 2:11; Heb. 10:31).
Recall that after Israel's sin with golden calf, Moses despaired over his life and underwent a 40 day period of teshuvah and "face-to-face" (פָּנִים אֶל־פָּנִים) prayer before the Lord. When God finally reassured him he had found grace in his eyes and that he would remain faithful to Israel because of his intercession, Moses asked God to show him his glory (Exod. 33:12-18). The Lord then replied: "I will make all my goodness pass before you and will proclaim my name 'The LORD' before you (וקָרָאתִי בְשֵׁם יְהוָה לְפָנֶיךָ). And I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy." But he further said, "you cannot see my face, for man shall not see me and live" (Exod. 3:19-20). The Lord then said to Moses, "there is a place by me where you shall stand on the rock (וְנִצַּבְתָּ עַל־הַצּוּר), and while my glory passes by I will put you in a cleft of the rock, and I will shield you with my hand until I have passed by. Then I will take away my hand, and you shall see my back (וְרָאִיתָ אֶת־אֲחֹרָי), but my face shall not be seen (וּפָנַי לֹא יֵרָאוּ)."
Now this is a fascinating and puzzling narrative, because first we are told Moses spoke with God "face to face" but then God told Moses no one can see his face and live, and furthermore, though Moses would not be given a direct vision of God's face, God would permit Moses to see his "back" (אֲחֹרָי), that is, a vision apprehended at some sort of a distance, or at least in some sort of indirect way....
Perhaps Moses could not see the glory of God (כּבוד יהוה) because it is simply too intense to be apprehended by a human being. God's essence is beyond all human comprehension and therefore is ultimately mysterious (Isa. 40:28; 55:8; Psalm 145:3; 147:5). No more can you stare directly at the sun without damaging your eyes that you can look directly upon the face of God without blowing your mind.... The "back side" of God then represents his accessibility to us - his reflection "through the glass" - wherein his face remains hidden or veiled from view.
As I mentioned above, there is a sort of tension implied in the very act of creation whereby God must limit or "empty" himself in order to "make a place" for anything outside of himself. God is the only Necessary Being, which is alluded to in the original definition of YHVH (יהוה) as ehyeh (אהיה), the great "I am." As Life or Being itself, God is essential to all that exists, though all that exists is contingent (i.e., dependently derivative) and therefore fundamentally different in its ontology (being-status) than the Being of God. So there is this dualism or eternal gap between the infinite and the finite.
Now the divine act of "making a place" for creation is, from a human and cognitive perspective, a sort of divine disguise, or a "hiding of face," and the meaning of special revelation presents an invitation to seek God's presence despite the ambiguity and uncertainties of the venture. We must exercise care as we seek God, however, because we are explicitly commanded not to make any image or likeness of God, and yet it is difficult not to use language that is analogical when we think about spiritual matters (1 Cor. 2:13). If we are forbidden to make any image of God, how can we draw close to that which is beyond all the power of our imagination (Isa. 40:25)?
So the life of faith is paradoxical, since (by definition) the idea of the infinite overwhelms and annihilates the finite, and yet we desire to connect with God, to cleave to him and to be made safe in terms that we can understand... Theologically this dilemma (or paradox) may be stated that we are to both fear the Lord and yet love the Lord with all our heart, soul, and strength. I realize that this is somewhat abstract, though the question resolves to how we are to relate to God in very practical terms. Yeshua, our tender and loving Good Shepherd, the one upon whose breast the apostle John did lean, is yet the one whose eyes are as blazing fire, who bears a name that no one knows but he himself, and from before whom the nations flee in dread (John 13:23; Rev. 1:13-17).
Our relationship with God therefore defies a "tidy theology" that attempts to catalog and explain the mysteries of walking by faith in the Living God. Like the proverbial "fiddler on the roof" we must balance well lest we fall into trouble. The thought that an infinite God cannot be satisfied with anything less than absolute surrender can lead us to despair; the thought that God's love is unconditional can lead to a false sense of intimacy....
The "back side" of God is where we can find stability. Though God is indeed inexpressibly glorious and incomprehensible in his essence, he empties himself of glory so that human language and words have real meaning. That is the miracle of the incarnation, after all: God the Infinite disclosed in finite space-time. Therefore as YHVH passes by Moses the words are heard: "Merciful and gracious, long-suffering, full of steadfast love, and willing to forgive all who trust in Him (Exod. 34:6-7). These are human words; these are words of the heart. The moral attributes of God are indicative of his character (or "face") after all, even if the attributes of his power and inscrutable essence transcend our understanding. We can know more than what God is not, after all; we can know truth revealed in words that we can understand. In the last analysis, it is mercy and grace that connects us with God, and indeed the Infinite One who clothed himself in finitude and mortality heals the breach and despair of the wounded heart that trusts in his sacrificial love.
So does it matter that we cannot know the "essence" of God, that is, his "incommunicable" attributes, and that indeed we will never be able to do so, no, not even in eternity? In a sense not at all, because what matters most is not what we know about God as much as what he knows about us. Moreover, since the LORD is infinite and entirely omnipotent, he has both the unlimited ability and the means to reveal himself to us in terms that we can genuinely understand, even if our knowledge of him will be necessarily incomplete. As it says: "The secret things belong to the LORD our God, but those that are revealed belong to us and our children forever, that we may do all the words of this Torah" (Deut. 29:29).
Yeshua is the Language ("Word"), the Message, and the Revelation of the Infinite clothed in the finite, and therefore he is the greatest expression of heaven represented in human form. Such revelation is sometimes called argumentum spiritus sancti, or the "argument from the Holy Spirit." Kierkegaard wrote in his journals: "In 1 John 5:9 we read: 'If we receive the testimony of men' (this is all the historical proofs and considerations) 'the testimony of God is greater' -- that is, the inward testimony is greater. And then in verse 10: 'He who believes in the son of God has the testimony in himself.' Therefore genuine faith is more than a creed or "doctrine"; it is existence itself, a matter of spirit, wherein new life is expressed in relationship to God through Yeshua the Savior. Regarding the rational enterprise of theology proper, Kierkegaard wrote: "A dogmatic system ought not to be erected on the basis: to comprehend faith, but on the basis: to comprehend that faith cannot be comprehended" (Journals and Papers).
Our lives are surrounded by miracles, mysteries, and wonders. We cannot "live, move, and have our being" apart from the surpassing glory that pervades reality, and particularly that which makes our hearts alive. Faith sees the hidden mystery and celebrates God's love.
Hebrew Lesson:
Deuteronomy 29:29 Hebrew reading:
Addendum:
Meaning and Religious Language
The problem of understanding God's essence concerns the limits of human language and meaning. For instance, if we say that God is infinite (i.e., non-finite) the words we normally use to describe finite creation suddenly become inadequate. (Even in mathematics we run into paradoxes regarding infinity: are there as many prime numbers as there are nonprime?) The attributes we use to describe finite beings cannot be directly applied to infinite Being without ambiguity. Indeed, some philosophers have said that the very idea of "infinity" is incomprehensible or incoherent. We see this in the case of the "predicate of existence," for example. God's existence is not like the existence of finite and contingent things that are subject to change, dissolution, and decay. Therefore we cannot say that "God exists" without qualification; we cannot ascribe properties to God based on the observed properties of creatures. This has led some theologians to say God's existence is "necessary," by which is meant that God cannot not exist, though this mode of existence is entirely different from all other forms of contingent existence known...
When it comes to language about God, either the predicates we use are equivocal (they mean entirely different things when applied to things in the world than they do for God), or they're univocal (they mean the exactly the same thing), or they're analogical (they mean more or less the same thing):
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For Maimonides (and other rationalist thinkers) the "Torah is written in the language of men," by which is meant that there is a great gap between language about the world and the language about God. Saying "God is merciful," for example, means that actions of God are interpreted as merciful by human beings (analogical reasoning), but strictly speaking, there is no correspondence or "relation of similarity" between God's essential nature and human beings, and therefore we cannot say this is a true statement about God's essence. This distinction sometimes leads to paradoxes in theological discussion, when the attributes of action are confused with God's essential (or "negative") attributes.
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