For with the old Gods things came to end long ago: – and verily, they had a good and joyful Gods’ end.
Theirs was no mere twilight death- that is a lie! Rather: one day they laughed themselves to death!
This happened when the most godless words issued from a God himself – the words: ‘There is one God! Thou shalt have no other God before me!’ – . . .
And thereupon all the Gods laughed and rocked their chairs and shouted: ‘Is this not Godliness, that there are Gods, but no God?’
He that hath ears let him hear.
-Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra, p. 158
The quote has an ominous ring to it and yet in our postmodern society, such sentiments are all too common. Why just One? Why not a pantheon of demi-gods governed by a supreme god? (Zeus listens intently for any welcoming of his return) Why not shower with accolades Spinozoa’s pantheism or embrace the myriad upon myriads of gods within the Hindu religion?
May I suggest that one reason for such acceptance would be the diversity and plurality we face within our own experiences. A rainbow is shot through with a multitude of color, for if it were just one color could we then refer to it as a “bow”? We can see it most readily upon the little child’s face as they peer into the cardboard box to choose one amongst a whole litter of dogs. No one alike, each one different. If this were not so the child would be faster at picking and the parent not so incessant at starring at their watches. This all to show that even children see the differences. I find myself admiring the diversity whether it be in the food I place on the dinner table or the in the friends I have close relations with. Yes, I am convinced that one among many adds new dimensions to life.
If “many” is how we see upon this earth, can it be so in the lofty heights of the heavens? I am afraid that my experiences cannot go there. We cannot “see” up there, as we “see” down here. All our senses fail us in just trying. However we should be wary in thinking that “see is believing” for it would lead us far astray. If a gentlemen were to fail to see the bottom of the deepest ocean and in therefore believe that it does not exist, we would think him mad. Or if a child on a rainy day should see no sun and decide that it ceased to exist; I know we would be patient in our rebuke, but rebuke nonetheless. Could it be that experience, even in this flesh, speaks otherwise? Our eyes are not the measure of all things, but a fair measure.
So as we should have it, the heavens obscure the heavens. So how do we know? If knowing can only be known by seeing then I will kindly ask you read all that has come before this, but if knowing encompasses more than just the five senses then we shall embrace a broader spectrum of the rainbow. Rudolph Bultmann, that tower of man sought to undo the edifice of the supernatural with science. The shining light of the technological-scientific acolyte was to dispel the darkness of the spiritual, but his comments lay buried in a scholarly tome somewhere. Unfortunately the words of the wise fall upon deaf ears, “One does not need a torch in order to see the sun.”
May I ask you to humor me with this just this thought: “How do I know your here?” The mother knows her child is up to no good by the crash of expensive china shattering loudly upon the wooden floor. Juliet knows her Romeo at the utterance: “Call me but love, and I’ll be new baptized.” One suggests the act and other the word. If this be so with man, how much more with God? What acts can we attribute to Baal or Shiva or Yu-Huang, what history have they colored with their brushes? Did not Elijah in the hearing of the multitude petition God to act? Were not Elijah’s taunts (1 Kings 18:27) the same ones being thrown at Neitzsche’s Mad Man (The Gay Science, p. 181-182)? The difference only being that one acted and the other did not. One answered with fire from the heavens, while the mad man answered for himself: “Whither is God?” he cried; “I will tell you. We have killed him — you and I.” Should we so lightly pass over that glaring fact that the one gone mad should be able to answer his own question? What tragic irony. God in being asked to be known acts. The speaking of your name elicits a turning of the head or an inquiring: “Yes?”. If so with us, why should it be any different for God?
I am afraid I have only laid one stone upon the foundation, but know that such a work cannot satisfy to be a building. My only appeal in this post has been to labor (albeit imperfectly) that the God who is there has spoken and acted. I set aside for another post the dealings of whether there is any other god then God.
