” ‘Behold your Music!’ And he showed to them a vision, giving to them sight where before was only hearing; and they saw a new World made visible before them, and it was globed amid
the Void, and it was sustained therein, but was not of it. “
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion
Sketch the graph of the following equations:
(Answers to odd numbers
in the back of the book.)
2. God Said
2. God Said.
The idea of God is easy enough to understand. Theology and history have made a rather complicated mess of the subject, but, in essence, God is that impossibly large yet unreachably distant pinpoint of light (see #4) in the pure sky of metaphor and dream. He (she, it, you, them, I, we, all of the above) is the ultimate attractive force from which we vainly attempt to individuate. Or, in an equally prideful attempt to find definition, peace, and finality, we can lose ourselves inside the vast Oneness and declare ourselves helplessly entwined in God’s Fate.
God is the impassable singularity around which we must orbit, but are forbidden to reach, which separates knowledge, experience, and imagination into such seemingly discrete functions of time and space. God is the one mysterious variable we are all frantically solving for, the origin where everything (and everynonthing, and everything else, and nothing) intersect in a cacophony of (im)possibility.
When God speaks, we do not use an individual mouth, tongue, voice, language, or consciousness. “Said” here refers to all verbs, every action, performed or merely pondered. God spoke, and this (and that, these, those, me, you and us) happened, and continues. The continues part is important to you and me, because, from our perspective, God is still mid-sentance (actually we are interrupting him right now like a couple of ungrateful students passing notes in class). To illustrate the significance of this happening, stop reading, stand up, stretch, look outside, open the refrigerator, pet the dog, hum a melody you just made up, draw a picture, call a friend and tell them you love them, drop something heavy on your foot, forget what you were doing, start a massive art project, feel inadequate and uninspired, realize you need to do some paid work, make some coffee, get bored, make some plans for this weekend and forget about this foolish essay forever. No hard feelings, truly. I would only congratulate you for seeking the best spot to watch the rest of the show. Objective observation of God’s speech is elusive to us small beings at the edge of existence, so cherish whatever seat you can find.