Rethinking Divine Hiddenness: God's Accessibility in an Age of Doubt

In an era where atheism and agnosticism are on the rise, the age-old question of why God remains hidden—if S/He exists at all—continues to perplex believers and skeptics alike. The "problem of divine hiddenness" argues that a loving God should make His presence unmistakably clear, especially to those earnestly seeking Him. Yet, excerpts from a forthcoming book by Michael C. Rea, the Rev. John A. O'Brien Professor of Philosophy at the University of Notre Dame and Director of the Center for Philosophy of Religion, challenge this notion in profound ways. Drawing from his work on the hiddenness of God, Rea posits ideas that could reshape how we understand faith, seeking, and divine relationship. As someone fascinated by the intersection of philosophy and spirituality, I find these insights not only intellectually stimulating but potentially transformative for a world grappling with spiritual disconnection.

Rea's first striking claim is that "strictly speaking, there is no such thing as THE concept of God." This isn't a dismissal of theology but a recognition of the diversity in how humans conceptualize the divine. God isn't a monolithic entity confined to one cultural or religious framework. In Christianity, God might be the Trinitarian Father; in Islam, the singular Allah; in Hinduism, Brahman manifesting in myriad forms. Even within a single tradition, personal experiences shape unique understandings. This pluralism undermines the hiddenness argument's assumption that God should reveal Himself in a universally recognizable way. If there's no singular "God concept," then divine hiddenness isn't a failure of revelation but a reflection of human diversity. It suggests that God meets us where we are, in the conceptual languages we speak, rather than imposing a one-size-fits-all manifestation.

This leads to Rea's optimistic assertion: "I think that there is no reason to doubt that everyone who seeks God is guaranteed of finding God in a salvific way." At first glance, this seems audacious, especially in light of countless testimonies from seekers who feel abandoned or unheard. But Rea isn't promising instant epiphanies or miraculous interventions. Instead, he reframes seeking as an accessible act, not reserved for the spiritually elite. In a detailed passage, he explains that "trying to seek God, then, is remarkably easy. It requires receptivity to a relationship with God and either a desire to find something that one conceptualizes by way of a concept of God, or an intention (motivated by a desire to find God, or not) to take actions that one believes to be directed toward the goal of finding something that one conceptualizes by way of a concept of God." Breaking this down, seeking boils down to openness and intentionality—qualities available to anyone capable of forming relationships.

Consider the implications: You don't need a theology degree or a crisis of faith to seek God. It could be as simple as meditating on the beauty of nature with a vague hope for transcendence, or performing acts of kindness with an unspoken longing for meaning. Rea argues these conditions "can be satisfied by anyone capable of having the relevant desires and forming the relevant intentions—anyone, it would seem, who is capable of participating in personal relationships at all, and who has and can entertain a concept of God." This democratizes spirituality, making it inclusive rather than exclusive. In a society where mental health struggles and existential angst are rampant, this view offers hope. It counters the narrative that God plays favorites, hiding from some while revealing to others. Instead, the guarantee of finding God salvifically—meaning in a way that leads to redemption or wholeness—rests on the seeker's receptivity, not on God's capriciousness.

Perhaps the most revolutionary idea in Rea's excerpts is that "it is possible to participate in a relationship with God without knowing that one is doing so and, indeed, without knowing or even believing that God exists." This echoes the concept of "anonymous Christianity" proposed by theologians like Karl Rahner, but Rea grounds it in philosophical rigor. Imagine an atheist who lives a life of profound compassion, unknowingly aligning with divine love. Or a skeptic who pursues truth through science, inadvertently engaging with the Creator's order. Rea suggests that divine relationship isn't contingent on explicit belief or knowledge; it's about participation in goodness, truth, and beauty—attributes that, in many traditions, emanate from God.

This perspective has profound ethical and social ramifications. If God can be found unknowingly, it bridges divides between believers and non-believers. It challenges religious exclusivism, where salvation is tied to doctrinal assent, and promotes a more universalist view. In politics, this could foster greater empathy across ideological lines; after all, if even the staunchest atheist might be in relationship with God, judgment becomes less appealing. Yet, critics might argue this dilutes faith, reducing it to vague moralism without the transformative power of conscious belief. Rea anticipates this, emphasizing that while unconscious participation is possible, conscious seeking accelerates the journey toward salvific encounter.

Skeptics of divine hiddenness often point to suffering as evidence of God's absence. Why doesn't an all-loving deity intervene more visibly? Rea's framework suggests that hiddenness preserves human freedom. If God were overtly manifest, seeking might become coerced rather than genuine. By allowing diverse concepts and unconscious relationships, God respects our autonomy, inviting us into partnership rather than domination. This aligns with philosophical traditions from Kierkegaard to contemporary thinkers, who see faith as a leap, not a certainty.

Of course, Rea's ideas aren't without challenges. Empirical evidence for such guarantees is scarce, and personal anecdotes of unanswered prayers abound. Moreover, in a pluralistic world, how do we discern true divine encounter from self-delusion? These questions warrant further debate, but Rea's contributions push us beyond binary atheism-theism debates toward a more nuanced understanding.

In conclusion, these excerpts from Rea's book offer a refreshing antidote to spiritual despair. By dismantling the myth of a singular God concept, assuring seekers of divine findability, simplifying the act of seeking, and affirming unconscious relationships, he paints a picture of a God who is hidden not out of indifference but to honor our humanity. In an age of uncertainty, this philosophy encourages us all—believers, doubters, and everyone in between—to remain open. After all, if seeking is as easy as desiring connection, perhaps God is closer than we think. The hiddenness, then, isn't a barrier but an invitation to a deeper, more personal revelation.