Describing God

A man ever fails at describing God.

He may worship God. She may say what God is similar to. He may say what God may or may not do.

Despite the endless array of material that tirelessly works around the topic, a person will ever fail at describing God.

She can ponder God. She can ask the questions that should be asked. She cannot, regrettably, honestly answer those questions definitively for herself.

Should an origami-man that I create by folding paper back and forth try to describe me?

“Grant is funny,” it may say.

 How can it know?

It does not have ears. It does not have an ear canal or take advantage of bone induction. It does not have a brain of electronic dendrites that communicate with memories to resolve a though.

What if I were to draw ears with blue ink on that little origami-man?
What if the origami-man exclaimed, “Oh! I have ears!”?
Would he be any more qualified to hear me or understand when I make a joke?

We are that origami-race of men and women who lack ears to hear or brains to understand our Maker. “Oh!” we exclaim. “I have ears!”

Yes, but not the same ears of our Maker. We do not have the mind of our Maker. Everything we hear is with blue-ink ears. Everything we think with our brain was folded and weaved into our being when we were created.

Any conclusion we come up with would be an origami-conclusion; a paper thing readily torn.

And origami-conclusions cannot ever compare to flesh and blood truths.

Origami-conclusions are not the real thing.
They are an effigy. They are symbols of it. They remind us of it.

But they do not describe God. They simply compare Him to us.


I just used the word ‘Him.’ As if that were even accurate.

Does He (pardon my anthropomorphism) even qualify as a ‘him?’

Is He not so far out of the realm of ‘Him-ness’ that he no longer qualifies as ‘Him?’ The feminine traits of God are becoming more and more real, so how can we call Him ‘Him?’

An anthropomorphism is used when we describe an inanimate object with human traits. For example, if I were to say,

“This article is silly,”

I would be using an anthropomorphism. Likewise, the origami-man with blue-ink ears is an anthropomorphism of us. It is an inanimate object with human traits.

Are we not God’s deopomorphism of Himself (pardon my anthropomorphism)? Are we not trying to describe an non-human object with human traits?


How silly it would be for the origami-man to say of me, “my! How origamic you are!”

That would not be right!

I would quickly reply, “No, my dear origami-man! How human you are.” He is my anthropomorphism. I am not is origamiphism.

Likewise, we are God’s deopomorphism. He (pardon my anthropomorphism) is not our anthropomorphism.

2 Responses to Describing God

  1. Heath says:

    Dude, thanks for your comment, I couldn’t think of a nicer compliment. I can’t think of any other way I’d rather be described. Wish I could reciprocate now but I am a little distracted, or drunk rather. We opened a wonderful bottle of wine to celebrate Allyson getting a series of job offers and our friend Carl getting fired. We finished the night with a surf video and quite frankly I am exhausted. But much love out to ya brother. Abiento. “Fight the good fight for the faith.”

  2. Matt says:

    I ran across this entry as I was browsing blogs and I really liked your origami analogy. It really describes the way I see myself and my relationship to God. If it’s okay with you, I quoted part of it in a post on my blog (citing your website and including a link to this entry). If you prefer that I take it down, I will gladly do so. Here’s the url:

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