The mystery we call God

The Thinking Anew column in The Irish Times today.

Michael Commane 

We are told that more than 20 million people around the world looked on as King Charles III was crowned. It was a religious service celebrated in Westminster Abbey by the Archbishop of Canterbury Justin Welby. 

Leaving aside one’s views on  Irish-British relations, it is fair to say the coronation was some spectacle and the size of the audience for an act of worship makes it significant. Millions of people were drawn to the ceremony just as they are by monarchy. Has it something to do with the untouchable, the person who is different, different, beyond us, beyond our normal experience and everyday lives? 

I mean no offence to those involved in the coronation when I say that a similar aura or mystique surrounds Donald Trump. Didn’t Trump boast that he could kill someone on a New York street and get away with it? He appears to have that X-factor that makes him untouchable, as if he is ‘out there’, different to the rest of us.

Tomorrow is the feast of the Ascension. It’s the day that we are reminded of Jesus returning to the Father in Heaven. All during the Easter season we are constantly reminded of the loving relationship between the three Divine Persons, indeed the relationship is so strong, beyond our understanding, that it is one God.

I’m often surprised by what we retain and what we forget over the years. But I can still remember a lecturer in theology talking about a transcendent God, a God out there and an immanent God, or God among us.

Is it fair to say that before the Second Vatican Council (1962 - 1965) our emphasis was on a transcendent God? We stood back and worshipped the all-powerful God, who was in many respects beyond us. In the Catholic Church the Mass was in Latin, which emphasised the mystery of a distant God. The Vatican Council came along, attempted to open the windows and placed far more emphasis on an imminent God, a God in our midst. All the liturgical reform that has taken place since the Vatican Council has helped us place more emphasis on a God who is among us, a God who is present in the world.

It would seem there is always going to be tension between our understanding of a transcendent God and of an immanent God. In terms of faith they are two ideas in our attempt at getting to grips with God, each pulling us in a different direction. And when  we try to give an explicit reality to God, to put words on our understanding we naturally fall far short, as God is beyond our understanding. 

I’m a child of the Second Vatican Council, which means I’ve been greatly influenced with the idea of an immanent God. It’s clear to me that the generations coming up behind me have grown somewhat tired of that idea and seem to want to return to seeing God in terms of transcendency.

But that’s not happening just within the context of faith and religions, it is also a move that is taking place right across society.

The coronation of Charles III reminded us of the importance we place in having a figure beyond us, someone who is in many respects untouchable. The same goes for Donald Trump, love him or hate him, to his followers and maybe to others, he is in many respects ‘unworldly’.

The entrance antiphon in tomorrow’s liturgy goes: “Men of Galilee, why gaze in wonder at the heavens? This Jesus who you saw ascending into heaven will return as you saw him go, alleluia.” (Acts 1:11) And then in the Gospel (Matthew 28: 16 - 20) we see how the disciples “fell down before him, though some hesitated”.

Yes, there will always be tension between the transcendent God and the immanent God. But the life of the historical Jesus, who lived and breathed, the person who lived a life of kindness and goodness, surely must always point us in the direction of the God out there. The person of Jesus is our pathway to the sublime God, the God beyond our understanding. I for one prefer to set my sights on the immanent God. I feel more at home with such thoughts. 

Tomorrow’s feast is a powerful reminder of two great aspects of the mystery we call God. There may well be more.