I say the gods deal very unrightly with us. For they will neither (which would be best of all) go away and leave us to live our own short days to ourselves, nor will they show themselves openly and tell us what they would have us do. For that too would be endurable. But to hint and hover, to draw near us in dreams and oracles, or in a waking vision that vanishes as soon as seen, to be dead silent when we question them and then glide back and whisper (words we cannot understand) in our ears when we most wish to be free of them, and to show to one what they hide from another; what is all this but cat-and-mouse play, blindman’s buff, and mere jugglery? Why must holy places be dark places?

What a question!

This is part of Orual’s eloquent closing remarks as she presented her case against the gods — I’ve recounted her story here. If you were standing in defense of the ‘gods’, what would your answer be?

I’ve encountered this complaint in various other forms but, in my opinion, none comes close in terms of poignancy and emotion (if you follow her story in the novel). People wonder why God is so “hidden”. Why — if He’s there — does he prefer being subtle? Why is He invisible? Why does He not walk around in the open for everyone to see? Someone (and I can’t remember who and where) wondered why is it expected for human parents to be unambiguously present especially when they’re most needed by their children but it is somehow considered normal and accepted for God to be hidden and leave us in the shadow when we, His children, alone in this vast universe, need Him the most?

Some even push this frustration further and affirm that this is an (irrefutable) argument for the non-existence of God. I wouldn’t go that far though. If you were days into a long journey of crossing a desert where there’s nothing on your left or right other than sand and scorching heat, and all of a sudden you come across an empty but very beautiful castle with all sorts of provisions built right in the middle of the desert; wouldn’t you logically conclude there must have been people, or at least a person who built it? Just because you couldn’t see anyone inside the castle doesn’t mean its builder doesn’t (or never) existed.

Perhaps some might think this isn’t such a good illustration, but it is at least a bit helpful to understand why someone looking at this universe and the way it is (as they say) “fine tuned” and how it feels designed and purposeful and conclude that they can’t in good conscience deny His existence.

If this then isn’t an argument for denying God’s existence, I wondered if christian scriptures say anything about this subject? Is this question even addressed at all? If it is, are the answers satisfying? And if not, why not?

Let’s consider the Exodus story and more particularly the time the Lord “descended” and had Moses lead the Israelites “out of the camp to meet with God”, the one who saved them from Egyptian slavery (Exodus 19:2-25), and think of how, as they stood at the foot of that mountain, they were terrified and could not even bear hearing God’s voice — they urged Moses to relay God’s words to them instead (Exodus 20:18-19). Did that experience change them to their core? Absolutely not! It was just a matter of days and they were making idols to replace the true and awesome God whose terrifying arrival they felt.

Would you then, you who desire physical manifestations of God, be now fully convinced of His existence and always follow Him obediently were you to see Him? Would you be better than these Israelites in the Exodus story? It’s unlikely. In fact, according to what the Bible teaches, the odds are that you would not be any better.

In the parable of poor Lazarus and the rich man, Jesus confirms this very truth when He tells the rich man that no miraculous sign will convince people, not “even if someone rises from the dead” (Luke 16:31). He urges the rich man and his family to stick with the (seemingly unremarkable) reading of the law and the Prophets.

I could recall two other instances where Jesus was explicitly asked for this very same thing: a sign from heaven; that is, an absolutely irrefutable reason to believe. In the first occasion, religious scholars are the ones who asked. Let’s, for a moment, ponder Jesus’ (apparent) harsh answer:

… a wicked, and adulterous generation seeks for a sign, but none will be given it except the sign of Jonah.
Matthew 16:4

Jesus even leaves them immediately without clarifying what this sign of Jonah might be. There is, according to Jesus, something ‘wicked’ and ‘adulterous’ about wanting these signs. But what could that be?

Perhaps, given Jesus’ reaction, we can deduce that there can be an evil, proud posture of the heart behind asking such questions. When we “demand” signs perhaps we imply we know better than God or that we understand ourselves better to know what would be more effective for us than He who created us. But that’s only my guess. Or is it?

Even if we get frustrated by His pedagogic methods, there should always be a heart of humility when we ask ‘why questions’ to God as there could be thousands of responses that we might not even be ready to grasp. Perhaps there are good reasons why God decides to partially reveal Himself and veil the full splendor of His glory from our eyes. This is not because He doesn’t exist, and also not because He wants us to stumble in the dark as He plays ‘hide-and-seek’ with us, but rather because He deems it wise (even though we might not see it) to deal with us in such a manner.

This then brings us to the second scenario which took place during Jesus’ “farewell discourse” recorded in the Gospel of John. Philip, one of His disciples, requests that Jesus shows them “the Father”. “That”, Philip adds, “will be enough for us”. Jesus responds:

Don’t you know me, Philip, even after I’ve been among you such a long time? Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, “Show us the Father”?
John 14:9

For Philip and for the rest of us after him, we want miraculous manifestations; we need the extraordinary — or we think that’s what we need. However for Jesus, at this time, this is it; and ‘this’ is more than enough.

Gavin Ortlund in this video retells Søren Kierkegaard’s parable of a king who fell in love with a poor maiden. (You can also read the story here). As the king thought what the most compelling way to woo her would be, he concludes that his power isn’t the solution as it could overwhelm the poor maiden. He also thought that showering her with gifts would not be effective because there was no way of knowing if she’d love him for himself or for the gifts.

Since the king’s noble aim was “intimacy of heart and oneness of spirit”, the only way to unlock her heart was to take off his crown and royal attire. He then decided to put on the same rags the poor maiden was dressed in and become a servant as she was. This — and I think you’ll agree — was the only way. Here, once again, is the beauty of the christian story; namely the mystery of incarnation in the person of Jesus.

Needless to say that this also implies (in line with the christian scriptures) that God will not veil His full glory forever, but only for a time — this time. There’ll certainly come a time when He’ll fully reveal himself. However, in the meantime, we can perceive, even if only through this short parable, the (superior) wisdom in God’s hiddenness and how it is better for us at this time.

Perhaps the best way to reveal Himself is not through overwhelming power or coercion. Perhaps, His love is better revealed when He makes His “grace irresistible” and perhaps His loveliness is better shown when He wishes our glad and joyful surrender — rather than through force. Perhaps, just as it would be the case for the king and the poor maiden, the true strength of His character (joy, patience, humility, integrity, etc.) will be better known through our normal and unremarkable every day life than through the extraordinary displays of power and omnipotence.

I’ll grant the fact that there are so many angles through which this question can be approached and I cannot pretend to have gotten a hold of every possible reason why God designed it this way; but in the little I know and the little I was able to share, I hope you’ll see, even if through this just one aspect, that His ways, and even though seemingly upside down, are higher.

Then Jesus told [Thomas], “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”
John 20: 29