We can think of love and light as a beautiful, transcendent part of existence — something bigger than just you or me. But here’s a question that’s might have been on your mind: can something so vast and cosmic also be something to do with the idea of what is human? Is there a human side to transcendence? You know, conscious, embodied, able to form relationships, warm, kind, close-to-home? Let’s dig into that — and maybe wander through a few myths, a bit of religion, and what it means to be human in all this.
Let’s start with love. Not the mushy, heart-shaped-box kind — but an affection that gives, that wants to be with someone. I’ve always felt that love and wisdom are like two sides of the same coin — they’re just better together. Affection without good sense can go a bit off-track, and clear thinking without love? Cold, inert. But the two in harmony? Now that’s the good stuff. That, to me, is the universal essence — the source of what makes us truly humane.
When people try to speak about this spirit of humanity, they often get stuck for words. As the Hindus say, what is real often hides from us because we immerse ourselves in appearances. Similarly, I would suggest if there is an infinite truth about existence, our limited mind is in difficulty comprehending it.
Yet, even when not committed to any faith tradition, many people seem to appreciate new ways of knowing and loving. For they have noticed a guiding light that inspires hope and confidence.
Whether or not you use the word God, maybe you’ve felt a higher spirit inside you — a sort of divine humane presence you can trust.
What Is Humane, Anyway? To figure that out, it helps to think about its opposite — inhumane. Think war, cruelty, genocide. That’s the absence of love and light. Being humane, then, is about having a wise and kind heart. Not just random acts of niceness, but thoughtful, intentional care for others. It’s about sensing a connection — a kind of “we’re in this together” vibe. And maybe that vibe isn’t just ours. Maybe it flows into us from something greater.
Every religion seems to have its own way of picturing the Big Mystery — usually as a kind of person. An all-seeing, all-powerful Being, ‘Supreme Spirit, or more often just ‘God’. These figures often look and act suspiciously human — wreaking justice and forgiviness – having a human touch albeit being a bit mysterious.
Now, you might wonder — are these just cultural creations? Wishful thinking wrapped in myth? Some folks say yes. Others believe that so many people across time and space claim to have experienced something transcendent, that maybe there’s more to it than just fantasy.
Take the psychologist-mystic Wilson van Dusen, for example. He said all those gods and goddesses — from the Hindu Kali to the Buddhist Kuan Yin — aren’t lots of gods, but different faces of one reality. As if the Divine is wearing different costumes depending on who’s watching.
In Buddhism, especially in its more devotional forms, people connect with the eternal through images of the Buddha. Like Amida — the Buddha of Infinite Light. Japanese Buddhists might not think of him as a literal guy in the sky, but they still feel his compassionate presence. It helps them through tough times, gives them something to hold onto. It’s a human face for something bigger.
Let’s be honest — the word God can stir up mixed feelings. For some, it’s comforting. For others, it’s a no-go, too loaded with baggage. Some folks feel spiritual but want nothing to do with religion. Maybe they’ve seen too many conflicts where religion was the excuse, but the real issues were more about power, money, and culture.
And let’s talk gender. A lot of people today — especially those tuned into feminist thinking — aren’t so keen on the idea of God as the ultimate man in the sky. And fair enough. If God created all of us, why would God be only male? Some theologians say God isn’t gendered at all — the male imagery in scriptures is symbolic, not literal. Others point to passages where God is described in ways that are gentle, tender, and yes, maternal.
So maybe the humane face of the Divine isn’t an individual man or woman, but something deeper beyond our limited ideas of what is really human.
Here’s the thing: life gets tough. Change hits us. We lose jobs, get sick, feel lost. And in those moments, we need courage, patience, kindness — all those good, strong human qualities. Sometimes we look for them inside ourselves. Other times, we hope there’s something out there that can give us a boost.
Philosopher Roger Scruton put it beautifully. He said that when we look into someone’s face — really look — we see more than flesh and bone. We see a spark, a consciousness, something lit from behind. He believed the human face gives us a glimpse into the Divine.
I once saw a woman trip and drop a fluorescent tube at the local rubbish tip. It smashed, there was a loud pop, and her friend behind her shouted, “Oh God, God!” She wasn’t quoting scripture. She was scared. But wasn’t she also instinctively reaching for help from somewhere? Sometimes, even without meaning to, we call on a powerful spirit from beyond us. Perhaps the plea was answered for although she was a bit shocked, the fallen woman got up and dusted herself down. It turned out that she had suffered no injury.
If you’ve ever looked into the Twelve Steps from Alcoholics Anonymous, you’ll know that one of them is about asking a Higher Power for help — help that sheer willpower alone can’t provide. People in recovery say it’s not about waving a magic wand. It’s about surrender, humility, and being honest about our own limitations. It’s saying, “I can’t do this all by myself.” And that’s not weakness — that’s wisdom.
Sure, some of us turn to the Divine only when we hit rock bottom. But others just want help with being human — with the everyday slip-ups, the impatience, the self-doubt. You don’t have to be in crisis to want a little extra strength. Or a little more kindness. Or a bit more light.
Maybe transcendence isn’t some distant, cold force beyond the stars. Maybe it has a heart. A face. A voice that whispers, “You’re not alone.” Maybe the light that shines on us is also the love that lifts us. And maybe — just maybe — the most divine thing of all… is to be fully, deeply, compassionately human.
Copyright 2025 Stephen Russell-Lacy
Author of The Great Questions of Life
