The Final Hurdle
Max ran off into the clubhouse forgetting to turn off the car engine. Imy and I were not so keen, and we stood next to the car calmly waiting for Kev. I asked Kev for an explanation. He reached in the car to turn off the engine and get the key to lock the car doors. I was suspicious that Kev was taking a long time over the car, and when he pulled out his handkerchief to clean the windscreen, I knew he was delaying.
Max appeared at the clubhouse door. “I’ve seen God!” he shouted and bolted back inside the clubhouse.
“What is going on?” I asked Kev. Imy ran into the clubhouse. Her undignified behaviour shocked me. Max was young and impressionable and could be excused, but Imy? Really!
“I guess he made a sighting,” Kev said.
“Surely not,” I objected. “Why would God appear here? Besides, Max is still alive, and he wasn’t wearing any protective clothing.”
“You’ve got a point there,” agreed Kev. “You might have to revise your observation procedures.”
“What? Anyway, how would it look in my field notes if I wrote sighted God in the Western Suburbs Branch of the Observers’ Club? It would be a vagrant God sighting. Birds can turn up in unexpected places, even jumbo jets, but God! Who would accept that entry?”
Kev answered, “The purpose of field notes is not as evidence of sightings, but as a record for the enthusiast. It’s like in bird watching. A photograph or notebook entry is just a record of that delightful moment when I spotted the yellow-billed leg-shaker.”
I was astonished that Kev had seen the yellow-billed leg-shaker and for a moment considered interrupting the line of conversation to discover if he had any clues about finding one. It is funny how the most significant of conversations can be interrupted by something of no relative importance. Although, I would take up the matter of the leg-shaker with Kev another time.
Meanwhile, Kev continued, “It helps birders relive the thrill of the sighting. And a sighting in an unexpected place is even better, as long as it’s not a stuffed bird in a museum, eh Albert?”
“That would never do,” I agreed, wondering whether Kev had read my highly acclaimed Australian Birders’ Field Guide.
“Well Kev, how does this work?” I said, my mind returning to the topic.
“Work?” queried Kev.
“Does God just show up unexpectedly and give the once over to innocent people going about their own business?”
“No, that would never do,” Kev echoed. “It goes against God’s code of ethics.”
“Does God have a code of ethics?” I asked.
“Yes, of course he does. A God who can do whatever he likes does not act arbitrarily.” It was obvious to Kev.
“Sometimes it seems like that. One person is graced with a God observation and another goes through life without ever seeing God,” I countered.
“That brings us back to how it works,” said Kev returning to my question.
Kev checked his pockets looking for a cigar. I tried to distract him by keeping the conversation going. Besides, I was not at all keen to go inside the clubhouse. I feared disappointment. “So Kev, how does it work?”
“Two things are needed for a sighting: An observer and the observee. Unlike in train spotting, with God the observed one is also an observer. God has the upper hand in this spotting dual. God only shows himself to dedicated observers. Casual observers are like tourists who say they saw the Eiffel Tower on their last holiday and will see the Great Wall of China on their next. God is unseeable to them.”
“God can see everyone. It’s one of his ‘omni’ attributes,” I said displaying my knowledge of the subject, but Kev wanted me to follow his argument.
“Albert, for us to meet God face-to-face, would cause instant disintegration. For us less-than-good beings to gaze upon the Almighty would bring our innings to a close.” A bothered expression came on Kev’s face. “Ah! It is a great mystery why more people don't share our interest in meeting God, Albert. But for us enthusiasts, God finds a way of making contact.”
“God does?” I queried. This was my quest; now it was also God’s quest. “And I don’t need the fireproof suit?”
Kev laughed, “No that wouldn’t help you, but don’t worry, God fixed it. Many years ago, God entered his creation.”
“Akin to an artist entering a painting or an entomologist becoming an insect,” I mused, remembering my conversation with Dr Lee (the one I told you I did not tell you about earlier).
“In the Observers’ Club we call him ‘the Image of God’, because he makes it possible for us to see the invisible God.”
“I was trying to figure out how we would see an invisible God,” I said.
“Anyway,” said Kev, “for God to do this, thanks to the nastiness in the world, would inevitably make the Image a target for the nastiness he opposed. A nasty end to the Image’s life on Earth was a sure thing. He didn’t use his divine influence to avoid the inevitable. He was susceptible to hard times and death, like the rest of us.”
“What was the point of coming then?” I asked.
Kev explained, “The purpose was to allow humans to meet God without dying. The Image of God can do things that the rest of us humans can’t do. For starters, he took back his life. He is a faithful friend to us in spite of our imperfections, and at the same time a faithful son to God. The Image acts as a mediator.”
“So I can see the Image of God?” I asked.
Kev replied, “No probably not. The Image no longer resides locally. He lives in heaven.” Kev saw the crestfallen expression on my face and added, “But all is not lost, he sent his Spirit into his people.”
“I can meet the Spirit of God?” I said.
“God wants to make contact,” affirmed Kev.
I contemplated this for a few moments. The observer and the Observed are both on the same quest. The Image of God had already cleared the last hurdle. My observing the Image will not kill me. With God’s record, I could not fail to meet him. My perceptual apparatus was a mere metaphor in observing God. Prof. Castle was right about metaphors, but he chose the wrong metaphors. Valid metaphors are being friends with God, adopted into God’s family, walking in the light, etc.
“You have an appointment,” Kev prompted looking at the time on his phone.
“In that case, let’s go in the club and meet God,” I said, with my face set towards the clubhouse. The final hurdle had transformed into an opportunity to meet God.