Light Unapproachable: Divine Incomprehensibility and the Task of Theology
By Ronni Kurtz
IVP Academic | 2024 | 224 pages (paperback) | $24.00
Of all the requests a human has made of God, none has been more audacious than the plea of Moses to see God’s glory (Exod. 33:18). The reply he received was as strange as the request was bold. The Lord promised instead to reveal his goodness to Moses, but warned him, “You cannot see my face, for man shall not see me and live” (Exod. 33:20). Nestled in the cleft of a rock, Moses was only able to view God’s back. What does it mean to see God’s back instead of his face, or his goodness instead of his glory? What can we know about God, if indeed we can know anything at all?
The answer lies in the mystery of divine incomprehensibility, the topic taken up by Ronni Kurtz in his newest book, Light Unapproachable: Divine Incomprehensibility and the Task of Theology. It may seem an odd choice for a person who has devoted himself to the study and explanation of theology to release a book focused on what we cannot know about God, but as Kurtz is at pains to explain, the doctrine of divine incomprehensibility is not an empty doctrine leading only to endless negation, but an essential component of a full and vibrant theology proper. This is because the Christian God is a speaking God who reveals himself in a manner humanity can grasp.
“God’s incomprehensibility is a revealed incomprehensibility,” Kurtz explains. “The one who shows up in a burning bush and tells the prophet he is to be called ‘I AM’ has chosen to make himself known. In making himself known, he has revealed that the creature will never fully comprehend his essence or articulate his glories” (16).
Kurtz spends the opening portion of the book demonstrating the scriptural basis for the doctrine. He argues that our inability to comprehend the fullness of God is chiefly due to our limitations as creatures in relation to our Creator—limitations that were present before the Fall. Kurtz writes, “it is not because we are sinners that we cannot comprehend God; it is rather [because] we are creatures that we cannot comprehend God” (122). Our minds simply cannot conceive of that which is so much greater than ourselves.
Nevertheless, God wants to be known by us, and as such he has revealed himself in a manner accommodated to our limitations. The very existence of sacred Scripture, according to Kurtz, is proof of a divine desire for relationship and understanding. “God’s being given to the process of self-disclosure…means that the creature can be confident that God wants to be known. In fact, God demands to be known” (136-7). Therefore, it is right and proper for humans to pursue the study of God’s nature and attributes, but we must always do so “as receivers of accommodated glory and not creators of intellectual reality” (5).
Having established these basic principles, Kurtz moves on to examine the historic background of the doctrine of divine incomprehensibility, from early figures like the Cappadocian Fathers and John Chrysostom all the way to modern Reformed theologians like Herman Bavinck. Among the conclusions Kurtz draws from these historic writers is the distinction between comprehension and apprehension. He writes, “Christians ought to affirm some form of knowability of God. In the end, this will call for a careful distinction between comprehension and apprehension. While God remains ever incomprehensible, due to his gracious accommodation in his self-revealing, he is apprehensible” (36).
In other words, we can have true knowledge of God, but only by means of analogy and accommodation. Nowhere have we seen God’s nature revealed more fully than in the Incarnation of Jesus Christ, but Kurtz sees two potential errors lurking in this area. “We must avoid both an idea that the coming of Jesus of Nazareth in the flesh means we can disregard divine incomprehensibility while also avoiding the idea that the incarnation does not really reveal something special, positive, and significant about the Lord” (12).
So what can we rightly say about God? To merely equivocate would lead to theological despair, Kurtz argues, while to proclaim his virtues in a univocal manner—as if God were ‘good’ in the same way we are ‘good’—would lead instead to theological idolatry (19). The answer, as argued by theologians like Pseudo-Dionysius and Aquinas, is to employ analogical language. Therefore, when we say God is ‘good,’ it bears some resemblance to what we mean in deeming a human ‘good,’ but they are not exact synonyms. “Analogical language allows us to meaningfully predicate attributes and names while not attempting the fool’s errand of trying to traverse God’s transcendence” (157).
The final portion of Kurtz’s book focuses on specific implications of the doctrine of divine incomprehensibility, finishing with a look at how it should affect our corporate worship, prayer, and other aspects of the Christian life. The constant struggle to know the God who is both hidden and revealed creates a paradoxical situation for the believer, but our experience of the beatific vision in eternity will allow us to move ever deeper into knowledge of God, even as we never comprehend all that he is. “We wrestle like Jacob, laying hold of God through prayer in hopes that he will permit us to obtain the awe of Moses” (184).
This book is rightfully termed academic and includes some advanced terminology and concepts that may be difficult to understand for the layperson with no previous knowledge of the subject. Nevertheless, the writing style is straightforward and accessible, and unfamiliar terms are always defined. It is therefore a suitable volume for the seminary student, pastor, or layperson seeking to dive deeper into theology proper. What began as a personal reflection on Kurtz’s part (as he explains in the book’s introduction) has expanded into an excellent meditation upon God’s attributes and acts. As always with theology proper, we are led back to the praise of our Creator when we see a glimpse of who he is, even if only from the cleft of a rock.
