In case you’re just tuning in, this post is part of a series based on talks I gave a few weeks back. It’s picking up on the idea that if we, as humans, are to know of God’s existence, it is up to God to let us know:

If I were God, how would I cross the ontological divide? How would I let everyone know that I exist? Maybe I’d use an airplane with a banner, or send a mass email that simultaneously showed up on the computer screens of all Internet users… But things like that wouldseem impersonal, fake, and contrived. What if God not only wanted us to know he existed, but also wanted a relationship with us? Even in advertising, it isn’t banner ads in the sky or mass emails that make the biggest difference in what people buy. It’s personal invitations, word of mouth. The way we know that something is true and worthwhile is when we experience it in person.

Let me give a few examples. When I was in high school I was dating the boy who eventually became my husband. At the end of his senior year things were rocky between us. I thought he was spending too much time with his friends, and he thought I was being overprotective of our relationship. After graduation, he decided to travel around New England for a week going to parties at various people’s houses. I was at home in Connecticut, feeling neglected and quite angry with him for his lack of concern for my well-being. One night, we talked on the phone while he was at a party in New Hampshire. I expressed my frustration and loneliness and how unsure I was that our relationship could continue. He told me that he really cared about me, that he was sorry, that he would make it up to me, etc. But I still hung up the phone without knowing whether we would make it.

The next night my family and I went out to dinner. Shortly after we returned, there was a knock on the door. On our front steps stood Peter, looking both bashful and triumphant. He had spent ten hours traveling, by bus, taxi, train, and getting a ride from a friend’s mom. He had given up the rest of the week’s parties. He showed up on my doorstep because he knew that his presence was the only way I would be convinced of his heart. Needless to say, I forgave him and things worked out between us.

It’s a silly story on many levels, of a devoted boyfriend wooing his girlfriend back into his life. But it also demonstrates something about the way we communicate ourselves, our hearts, to other people. Talking to Peter on the phone did very little to change the situation. A dozen roses would have altered things for a few moments of excitement, but they wouldn’t have changed the fact that he was on his way to another party without me. The only way for him to communicate his love for me was to show up, in person, and to give up what he would have liked to be doing. The only way to communicate that love was inefficient, impractical, and costly.

Or take a more serious example. Peter’s mother was diagnosed with cancer a few years ago. She was alone and scared and far away. Again, we could have sent flowers. We could have sent cards and prayed for her. But the only way we could communicate to her that we really loved her, really cared about her pain and fear and questions, was by flying to New Orleans, where she lived. We ended up moving in with her for a few months. She needed help, but theoretically we could have hired a nurse or something. Really, moving in with her was the way to communicate that we loved her. It was inefficient, impractical, and costly. And it was totally worth it.

So, was God willing to cross the ontological divide? Does God communicate to us through physical presence, through traveling a far distance, through caring for our physical needs? Does God communicate in this inefficient, impractical, and costly way?

Christians believe that the answer to these questions is a resounding yes, and that the answer can be found in Jesus.