The Illusion of Near
A Thought on Isolation
Many people have experienced isolation recently. It’s like floating alone out in space, and the most difficult part is seeing all of the stars twinkle near each other, in communion with themselves but not you. But that’s the thing, the stars aren’t near each other at all, they just appear to be from the perspective of far away. We may feel isolated, and that no one sees us, but most everyone feels that isolation at some point. Sadly, that doesn’t make it any less depressing. I tend to think that it isn’t the isolation that is hard for a person, it’s seeing that everyone around them is in apparent community and relationship. But are they really near each other?
What constitutes nearness? Afterall, isn’t it an entirely relative term, contingent on perspective? If you gaze into the night sky, all of the stars seem so close together that the black canvas of space is over crowded. But those stars are billions of miles apart. Our very own star — The sun — seems closer than the tiny reddish dot of Venus in the night sky, and yet it is much further away. Nearness. It is an illusion that relies on the perspective of the beholder. But these are all physical distances, easily traversed by the human eye and weighed against each other. What of the immaterial distances? The inconceivable depths of relationships; the immeasurable lengths of reason; the unknowable space of thought. Does the nearness in these fields hold the same trickery, the same illusion of being close-by or far-away? I think it does.
I am near to my brothers and sisters, when the backdrop is my coworkers. But I am far from my brothers and sisters, when they become the backdrop and my wife becomes the focus. Yet she is far-away if she fades to the back, and God comes into view. Perhaps I feel near to God, only to realize my own pride and find myself out in the cold of space, much further away from Him than I thought I was. Or the alternative: I feel far away from God, out in the cold with nothing around me, and yet He is actually near. Perhaps He is the cold itself, the blackness itself, the very space I am in. God is omnipresent. How can I be far away from everywhere? It is an illusion then… He is near me.
God is not only omnipresent, but He is omnipotent — All powerful. It is a slippery slope when you start denying God’s attributes. It is more comfortable to say that God wants you to be happy; that He wouldn’t want you to go through hard times; that He wants didn’t cause certain things to happen. But as soon as you deny God His attribute of power, certain things become out of His control, and He ceases to be God. He is full of impossible realities, and contradictory harmonies. I don’t profess to understand. But perhaps God is indeed the isolation, and just when you feel most alone, you can realize He is there — that He was always there. Perhaps God intentional causes the feeling of His absence, in order that we might seek Him. I don’t know. But what would change if I did know? Would I be more comfortable with life? Would I be able to experience it in the same appreciative beauty? Would I even be able to have faith in God? Well… I don’t know. But maybe that’s okay.
