Some time ago one of my sons asked at bedtime (the best time for philosophical questions, either because of the potential for stalling or the potential of having one parent alone and uninterrupted), “How do we know that when we talk about God that we mean God?” It took a minute to unravel the meaning of his question. Eventually I understood that he was asking how we know the word “God” refers to the actual God. A good question, really. What do we mean by the word God?
This conversation led me to Anselm’s ontological argument, because that’s what everyone talks to their children about at bedtime, right? When they ask questions like this one, it’s a good thing to have in mind. Anselm’s brief argument for the existence of God states that: 1) God is that than which nothing greater can be conceived; 2) It is greater to exist in reality than in imagination; so 3) God must exist in reality. I am simplifying here, and if you are interested in picking apart the logic of the argument you will have to look elsewhere. The important part here is the definition of God as “that than which nothing greater can be conceived.” That is where I took the bedtime conversation with my son, though I didn’t refer to Anselm or ontology. (We don’t introduce ontology in our household until they’re a little older).
When we talk about God, what we mean, by definition, is the being who is greater than what we can imagine or explain. If this seems too abstract or vague (or philosophical!), there are some reference points for the greatness of God that give us a place to start. For instance, God is Creator. God is the architect and builder, the designer and maker of all things, including matter, physical laws, and all life. And God is the sustainer of all things, upholding the universe and overseeing its ongoing existence. From there we could move on to the attributes of God, which I will do at another time.
What I want to do now is circle back to an earlier post about God’s revelation of himself and his name to Moses. “I am who I am,” God says. Everything in the universe depends on something else for its existence and identity. We come from a father and a mother. We depend on water, air, and food for ongoing life. All plants depend on the sun for the production of food for themselves and all animals. In addition to physical needs, our identity also always depends on things outside ourselves. We introduce ourselves based on where we work, where we are from, who our family members are. We define ourselves by what we do, who we know, by things outside of ourselves.
God is the only being who is self-existent and self-defined. God is the only being who can say, “I am who I am.” God defines reality for all things other than himself. And God himself is self-defined, not dependent on anything other than himself. In C.S. Lewis’ book The Horse And His Boy, the boy Shasta is walking alone in the fog on a mountain path when someone comes to walk beside him, unseen in the fog. After some conversation with this strange companion, Shasta asks, “Who are you?” The stranger, who is Aslan the lion, answers him saying three times, “Myself!” Aslan is not defined by anything other than himself. For anyone other than God to answer the question this way would be arrogant. But God cannot be defined by things outside himself. God’s answer to Moses’ question, “What is your name?” is answered in the same way as Shasta’s question to Aslan. Who is God? He is himself.
If people, children included, can understand God in the terms of his revelation to Moses, or of Anselm’s ontological argument, that is a good starting place indeed. God is I am who I am, that than which none greater can be conceived. More on this later. These thoughts frame my sabbatical, which is exploration and contemplation of precisely this God who is greater than all conception. What a wonderful thing.