Enigma: A Self-Portrait of the Quest of God

Theology always had struck him as a labor laden with paradox. At first glance, making no sense, yet, at its heart, embracing, embodying deepest truth, and then, immediately, again, making no sense, verily, becoming, being nonsense.

For it made no sense to him to conjecture (for that, he believed, was all humans, thus, including himself, each and every one limited in imagination and comprehension, at best, could do) about the nature of God, which (Who, for he favored thinking of God in personal terms) ever was, is, and would be beyond fullest knowing (though, he also considered it profoundest irony that the existence of God did not surpass his greatest believing), and…

It made less sense to him for humans, having conjectured about the nature of God, to couch their speculations, to cloak their guesses in the definitive language of clearest, surest proof, and…

It made least sense to him for humans, especially those with titles who spoke in the name of institutions (among whom, honesty compelled the confession, he was numbered), to fashion their conjectures, speculations, and guesses into more or less purportedly indisputable (depending on who was speaking, why, when, and for what or for whom) doctrines to be promulgated for others to believe:

“God is like this…”

“God does this (or that)…”

“God’s will is…”

Yet (and this, for him, was the deepest truth) humans had to conjecture, to speculate, to guess about the nature of God. For to avoid the labor of theology (truly, to seek to avoid, for the evasion of theological matters, he thought, was not possible, even for an atheist; for to say, “God does not exist” or “There is no such thing as God” is to conjecture, to speculate, to guess, by negation, in relation to an undeniably extant, at the least, idea) would be not to exist.

Smiling at his own inevitable and intentional hypocrisy, he spent a goodly portion of his days conjecturing, speculating, guessing about the nature of God…

and, on occasion (actually, frequently), sharing his conjectures, speculations, and guesses with others; although usually hastening to preface his definitive wording with the demurral: “I think…”

Then, amidst another round of conjecturing, speculating, and guessing, a sudden revelation (believing it not possible that he might…that he could have conjectured, speculated, guessed it into existence, but rather that it came from…above!) dawned.

Closing his eyes, for an instant, blind to the world around him, the Absence of light, like a Shadow, enveloped his being.

(Later, reflecting on the psalmist’s song:

If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me,
and the light around me become night,”
even the darkness is not dark to You;
the night is as bright as the day,
for darkness is as light to You.

he came to this realization: God is as all, for God is all!)

And then, he listened, no longer hearing (or desiring to hear) his own voice, but only the sound of Silence, which, Who was an ongoing Word without end.

In time, after a time, he opened his eyes, he looked all ‘round him. All seemed the same, save his inner awareness that human conjecturing, speculating, guessing about God, especially when formed (when twisted into supposedly inerrant) doctrines were meant to put protective distance between God’s Presence (the Divine Enigma, alway too vividly dark, alway too deafeningly quiet) and humanity’s preference.