Does God really have eyes?

“God is Spirit, and those who worship Him must worship in Spirit and truth” (John 4:24).

After several ‘proofs’ that God must be pure Spirit, Charnock asks, “How come God so often has members like our bodies ascribed to Him . . . ?”

God is said to have eyes and ears, arms and hands. Charnock says He is described this way in condescension to our weakness. Finite people cannot understand an infinite, invisible God. He wants to make Himself known to us, so He describes Himself in terms that we can understand. The more familiar those terms, the easier it is for us to grasp what He is trying to show us.

God calls Himself ‘Father’ and because I had a loving father, I better understand God’s care for me. The body parts: eyes, ears, arms, hands, cannot belong to a spiritual, invisible being, but by using these descriptions, God shows me that He sees what I do (and what others do to me), hears my prayers and my praises, holds me in loving safety, pulls me back when I am going the wrong direction, and touches my life to bless and encourage me.

I cannot see or understand God as a pure spiritual Being, so He reveals His love for me by stooping to my level, humbling Himself so I can know Him. The significance of His humility is easier to grasp if I consider what it would be like to desire a worm to know me. I don’t know if (or how) worms communicate, but do know that in their world, I’m huge and foreign, an incomprehensible entity. How would they know whether I meant well or wanted to destroy them? I’d have to describe myself in worm-terms so that the worms could understand me. I’d have to learn worm-talk and find out what descriptions make sense to worms. In fact, to be truly understood, I’d have to love worms and greatly humble myself. I even might have to become a worm and crawl among them.

In a world where people separate themselves into classes and some groups are perceived better than others, the idea of becoming ‘one of them’ is uncommon. Yet God became a man so that I might know Him. Surely I have no right to exalt myself above anyone else. Instead, to be like God, I must willing allow others to see me for what I am. Humility moves my protective pride out of the way — so that the God who lives in me perhaps can give others a small glimpse of Himself.