Awe & Wonder

Image Credit: NASA/ESA/Hubble

Big Question, A Perspective.

A diamond is beautiful, not solely because its beauty shines from a singular vantage point, but also because of its ability to illumine its multifaceted sparkles from a variety of angles. Similar to how a diamond is made up of complex facets that reveal unique sparkles, I would like to continue this year’s exploration of our thematic question, “What does it mean to be human?”, from one particular angle, one that often gets quickly overlooked: an essential part of being human is experiencing awe and wonder.

As Christians, one of the fundamental convictions of our faith is the notion that we have been created[1]–that is, our existence does not stem from mere chance, nor do we subscribe to the idea that the universe whimsically propelled a series of events to cause us into being. Part of being human, then, is to recognize that we have been created by a creator. Of course, in the Christian view, we identify that creator as God. What is tragically often missed (in my view) is the aspect of awe and wonder of who God is as the infinite Creator. Alister McGrath[2] helpfully summarizes that “God exists necessarily; the created order exists contingently.” In other words, the Creator is one who is unbound by any of the universal limits that we created agents experience and he possesses authority far beyond what our minds can fathom–in short, God is infinite.  

These observations, however, are not novel or revolutionary for most of us. In fact, there is a good chance that these ideas are so acclimated into our vernacular that most of us zipped through them without pausing to ponder on their significance. It is this gap that I wish to restore and relish–a perspective that often gets glossed over, but one that I believe is essential to enabling us to experience part of what it means to be human. For the remainder of this space, then, I hope to lead us into a moment of meditating on God as our infinite Creator. And in doing so, I believe, this contemplation will restore the oft neglected element of what it means to be human, namely experiencing awe and wonder.

How much do we really know? 

After 3 years of living in the greater Boston area and personally engaging in deeper studies, I became more familiar with the paradox of knowledge. The idea is that the more we learn, the more we realize how much we don’t know, and this has certainly been true in my own experience in biblical studies: the deeper I traversed the realm of Old Testament studies, the more I realized how much I didn’t know. And the more I realized how much I didn’t know, the more I realized how complex and deep this field is. And the more I realized how complex and deep this one particular field is, the more I became overwhelmed by the sheer complexity of our entire world when considering the thousands of other disciplines that entail their own host of intricacies. And the more I realized how intricate our world is, the more I realized how vast God is, as I am led to recognize that all these intricate pieces have been organized by a sole figure, namely God.

To help illustrate the point of God’s grandeur further, I’d like to juxtapose humanity’s finitude and God’s status as being infinite. Let’s consider the example of experts with a PhD in a particular field–let’s say, a biblical scholar for our case. In a casual conversation between the average layperson and a biblical scholar, it is very possible that the layperson will generally assume that the scholar must be knowledgeable in the entirety of the Christian Bible–that perhaps, by virtue of having a “PhD in Bible”, the scholar would be well equipped to provide a robust response to every kind of unique and specified question directly and indirectly related to the Bible. We know, however, that this is not entirely the case.  

Typically, an “expert” in a particular field–a biblical scholar for our example–possesses expertise in a highly focused strand within a larger domain. For example, under the broad notion of studying the Bible are other general sub-categories of departments such as biblical studies, theology, and history (and more) that scholars and experts engage in. Taking this a level deeper, when we hone in to, say, the realm of biblical studies, we can further distinguish between studying the Old Testament and New Testament, each of which have their own unique complexities. And still going further below, within Old Testament studies there are more specialized sub-categories such as text criticism, redaction criticism, form criticism, and rhetorical criticism (again, only to name a few) that require a significant amount of time and energy for acquiring top-caliber expertise. Then, we can even limit our scope of focus further by placing a timeframe of study–does the biblical scholar focus on the much earlier 3rd millennium ancient near eastern milieu from which we can glean into the socio-political environment that our texts and biblical figures arose? Does the scholar focus on the early Iron Age period (1200–1000 BCE) during the early beginnings of a move towards Israel’s monarchy? Or does the scholar focus on the much later post-exilic period (late 6th BCE–70 CE)? The process of narrowing the breadth continues and eventually results in a scholar’s highly focused niche.

And of course, this does not imply that a biblical scholar solely demonstrates proficiency in the hyper focused categories while lacking any knowledge of the other subfields. But the point remains, that a biblical scholar—or an expert in any other field, for that matter—does not necessarily mean that the expert is able to provide a robust answer to every sort of question related to that field. For example, an Old Testament scholar’s expertise in text criticism does not necessarily grant him a well-informed background to answer a person’s question regarding Protestant Reformation, though the two subjects are related to the Christian Bible. To provide a different exaggerated analogy: for me to be a radiologist does not give everyone grounds to assume that I am also an expert in neurosurgery, simply because the two disciplines are classified under the broad category of science.

Experts are incredibly well-learned and trained, but they are bound to the parameters of their particular field. Even if one managed to complete multiple PhD’s and were hypothetically (or actually) the leading savant in all domains, the person would still be at a deficit of having full comprehension of the hundreds (perhaps even thousands) of other fields of study pertaining to our entire world. In other words, even at our best, mankind has limits. 

Now try to maintain the massive level of information and training that goes into just one field–the countless hours of reading, grappling, training and experimenting that led the scholar to stand as the leading expert–and imagine multiplying that workload by the number of domains of studies in our world (both the major domains and the sub-categories of studies within those major domains) packed into one mind. Mind boggling, to say the least, isn’t it? While it is impossible for any one person to possess expertise in all these domains, in theory, it is absolutely possible with someone who is not bound by finitude. As Christians, we believe that this is not merely a hypothetical concept, but an actuality realized in the infinite God himself. 

I believe God’s speech to Job in Job 38–41 functions to encapsulate this very idea. In this extensive pericope God responds to Job’s complaint by questioning whether Job has any knowledge or expertise in fields such as cosmology, zoology, meteorology and many other -ologies: “Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation? Tell me if you understand.” (Job 38:4). “Do you know when the mountain goats give birth?” (Job 39:1a). “Have you entered the storehouses of the snow or seen the storehouses of the hail, which I reserve for times of trouble, for days of war and battle?” (Job 38:22). It is evident that this lengthy speech serves to demonstrate the point that Job’s questioning against God’s rule is out of place when considering the immense knowledge, wisdom and authority that God maintains and exercises, compared to Job’s near negligible status as a finite human. The stark comparison between the finite creation and the infinite Creator naturally evokes awe and wonder of the latter.

Another example that poetically demonstrates God’s matchless splendor and eminence can be found in Psalm 29:8: 

“The voice of the LORD shakes the wilderness; the LORD shakes the wilderness of Kadesh.” (NRSV). 

A salient point from this one verse is the Hebrew verb khil (חיל) which is translated as “shakes” in many translations. While this translational choice would appropriately fit this context of depicting God’s overwhelming glory which appears to frighten the wilderness, a poetic nuance is unfortunately silenced. One of the frequent usages of this Hebrew verb appears with the semantic equivalence of “writhing” or “twisting” in pain from childbirth. If we were to consider this definition, one may wonder how we are to make sense of the wilderness/desert writhing or twisting. And what does the desert have anything to do with childbirth? 

Here, it appears that the psalmist intentionally employed this verb to illustrate poetically God’s power of being able to bring forth life, even from the most unexpected places. God has the power to cause even the barren desert to give birth or yield fruit. That is, God’s distinction as the sole Almighty has the authority to bring down rain and bring forth life and vegetation, even out of the barren wilderness. Once again, these observations are designed to strike the beholder with awe and wonder.

We are worshipers. 

It is this aspect of the Creator being infinite—unbound by limits and capable of performing wonders—that ought to evoke awe and wonder, but often gets overlooked. And I believe it is because we move so quickly past this notion of God as the Creator that part of our human experience is obstructed. 

To be human is to recognize that we have been created by the Creator. We’ve explored what it means for the Creator to be infinite and the awe that this truth evokes. As the created being reflects on these sentiments, the beholder should then arrive at the only logical subsequent response: to be human means to praise and worship the Creator. 

We hope you will join us in taking after our ancestors of faith to remember the higher reality of our fellowship with our Creator and live each day with praise.

“1 Praise the LORD! Praise God in his sanctuary; praise him in his mighty heavens!

2 Praise him for his mighty deeds; praise him according to his excellent greatness!

3 Praise him with trumpet sound; praise him with lute and harp!

4 Praise him with tambourine and dance; praise him with strings and pipe!

5 Praise him with sounding cymbals; praise him with loud clashing cymbals!

6 Let everything that has breath praise the LORD! Praise the LORD!”

Psalm 150

[1] Gen. 1:26–27, 2:7, 21–22. Isaiah 45:9–12 and 64:8 are helpful passages that portray the relational dynamic between God and mankind appropriately. That is, God as the potter (Creator) and mankind as the clay or vessels/works (created ones).

[2]  Alister E. McGrath, Christian Theology: An Introduction (Chichester: John Wiley & Sons Ltd, 2017), 199.