DEUS

The condition is so common it has a generic name: Deus Absconditus –the God Abscounded. A weighty, complicated notion, even if it does have an absurd quasi-echo in the Frito Bandito. (Stop here for a moment and try to imagine some Lord of All Creation hawking salted chips. Surprisingly easy, actually).  From what, though, does god flee? From himself, perhaps, or from his followers whose prayers and curses hold him in place. Not easy, then, to slip such chains, of self, of others, setting off to find someplace where you aren’t already.

          Imagine yourself, then, as the abscounding god. You’re not simply the lazy god, or the futile god – you’d be Otiosus, not Absconditus -- nor the deaf, dim god (Deus Surdus). You’ve abscounded, run off, fled. Perhaps a posse is on your trail, grim-faced angels or heartless priests, determined to drag you back to omnipotence. Worse, it may be that You, Yourself, are tracking You down. You dare not sleep (Deus Dormitus), for the Hounds of Heaven can smell your dreams.

          Still, you have hope. Men, it is said, are created in Your image, and what man has ever breathed who was not a master at self-deception? Speed, cunning, confusion: these are your chosen weapons. Everywhere and nowhere; you are the shadow of a leaf in the forest, the light of an unborn star, a mountain, a mouse, a frightened child, a brave woman’s heart. Every one of these is found and put to the question, and each one confesses that it was You, but cannot say where You’ve gone.