Is God defined in the Bible? As Sergei Averintsev, a Russian literary scholar, once wrote, in all of Scripture, there’s only one clear instance where Aristotelian logic “A=B” is used.
Hebrews 11:1:
Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.
Faith equals confidence.
All the other instances of “this is that” are metaphors or similis: “This is like that.”
When Jesus says “I am the door,” He doesn’t mean “I equal the door.” He means “I am like the door.” The door is a metaphor of Jesus, not definition.
What is the difference between a metaphor an definition? Definitions seek to explain. Metaphors reveal what is hidden.
When we want to make something clear, we usually say: “Define this…” We rarely say: “What is it like?” Yet Scripture consistently favors metaphor over definition. Why?
Because definitions often miss the nature of reality. Reality is a sign. It points beyond itself.
Every door points to Christ. Every breath of wind points to the Spirit. Every human being is an icon of God.
Definitions try to make things clear, yet miss the point. The point is not what Kingdom of God is; the point is what it is like.
Only when we know what it is like, do we know what it is. The river rustling beneath my feet in Estes Park this morning is a mysterious sign. It is like something else.
What?
I must look for a metaphor, not a definition.
Today the river rustles with newness. Ever flowing, never stopping, always washing, always refreshing, never the same — it is the River of Life.
The river is the metaphor for life. Not simply as a flow of time, but as a never-ending flow of newness. You can never step into the same river twice. It’s always new.
In the same way, I have never seen this day before. I have never seen this sun, this mountain, this aspen. They are brought before my eyes by the River flowing from an invisible Source.
I have never before been baptized — immersed — into the River of Today. I have not yet been washed anew by this flow of invisible newness. But it’s coming. I must have eyes to see and ears to hear. The river of life is bubbling beneath my feet.
Every coming moment is pregnant with rebirth. Every moment rustles with metaphors and similies. The only way to know is to be reminded of likeness. The moment we know what something is like we know what it is.
The moment we define a thing, we reduce it to less than it is. The moment we are struck by a metaphor, reality opens itself to us.
When God says, I AM WHAT I AM, it’s not a definition, even though it looks like A=B.
“I AM WHAT I AM” is not a definition but a refusal to be defined.
That God is Being cannot be explained — it must be caught. Like a fish in the river of time. Like a trembling leaf on an aspen. Like the sleepy face of a child.
