In Exodus 3:14, God says to Moses, “I AM who I AM.” This verse always puzzled me because I felt as if its meaning was hollow, as if God were refusing a substantive description or definition of Himself. But as I grew in my knowledge of literary theory as well as the Bible, I came to understand this verse as actually meaning the opposite. God, simply put, is.
He is pure presence, precisely what post-structuralists reject under the reasoning that it is entirely too substantial, that knowledge and being cannot exist outside of discourse. This difference is illustrated in the implications of the postmodern term “notion” versus its counterpart, “concept.” God is sure. He is eternally–past, present and future–existent.
God is not defined by our perception of Him or his difference in contrast to another social thought or religious tradition. He is alive, whole, full presence, and the substance of God is Himself. He remains untarnished by the corruptive nature of sin that seeks so hard to unravel the fiber of being, of purpose, the core inside the apple. And instead of remaining in this broken system of difference, God allows us the opportunity to enter into the wholeness for which we were created through the blood of Christ.
If you’ve picked up SciendaQ Spring 2012, you might have found that Zelda in Erased is tragically unaware of her self. The relabeling of library books bothers her so much because she locates their meaning on their spine, which can be equated to the social realm that structures our dialogue with the world in which we live. But what Zelda has yet to discover is that there is still hope. There is more to life than a cosmic Dewey Decimal System.
There is a story. Inside.