To Infinity and Beyond
Part 2: The Correction
Great and mighty God, We thank you for our desire for Truth. We know that it is Your Son who is the Truth. Help us that we may see Him truly, that He may point us to You, and correct our errors. Amen.
This is the second in a three-part series establishing theological foundation for systematic Kingdom theology. Part 1 identified the problem. Part 2 presents the correction. Part 3 traces the transformation that follows.
In Part 1, we diagnosed how treating God’s transcendence as a quantitative superiority (endless time, boundless space) rather than a qualitative difference produces a three possible errors: Gnosticism (emphasizing distance), pantheism (emphasizing immanence), or panentheism (attempting to hold both). All three emerge from the same foundational error. The correction isn’t complicated, but its implications are comprehensive.
Three simple statements: Eternal does not mean endless time. Infinite does not mean boundless space. Omnipresent does not mean spatially everywhere. All three are quantitative extensions of temporal and spatial categories. True transcendence means God is beyond these categories entirely—not “more” of them but qualitatively different from them.
The Correction: What Transcendence Actually Means
Eternal = Transcendent to Time (Not Endless Time)
The standard view: God is eternal means God exists in endless time—duration extending backward and forward without termination. God is very old (infinitely past) and will never die (infinitely future). Eternity is the timeline stretching forever in both directions.
The problem: This keeps God trapped in temporal succession. God would experience moments sequentially—an infinite number of them, but still one after another. God would have a past, present, and future, just vastly longer than ours. This makes time fundamental and God subject to it.
The correction: God’s eternity means God transcends temporal categories entirely. Not “time without end” but “beyond time.” God doesn’t exist for a very long duration—God exists in a mode that isn’t temporal at all.
What this means practically:
God doesn’t experience temporal succession. There’s no “before” and “after” for God in His eternal nature. All moments are present to Him simultaneously—not because He’s existing through all moments in sequence, but because He transcends the sequential nature of time itself.
Think of it this way: A novelist exists outside the timeline of their story. From the author’s perspective, all scenes exist simultaneously—opening and ending, beginning and climax. The characters experience events sequentially (first this, then that), but the author holds all of it in a single creative act.
Similarly, God’s eternal mode of existence transcends our temporal experience. He created time, He can enter time (Incarnation), and He acts within time. However, His own being isn’t bound by temporal succession.
Biblical support:
God says “I AM” (Exodus 3:14), not “I was and will be”—it’s present tense, eternal present. Before Abraham was, “I AM” (John 8:58)—not past tense but eternal present.
“With the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day” (2 Peter 3:8)—not because God experiences time differently but because temporal measurements don’t apply to eternal being.
Eternal life, then, isn’t “living forever” (quantitative duration) but “participating in God’s eternal mode of being” (qualitative transformation). Not endless time but timeless presence.
Resurrection as Entrance into Eternal Mode
Resurrection isn’t an endless continuation of temporal life, it’s a transformation into an eternal mode.
Consider the difference between living through a story and completing it:
While reading: You experience events sequentially. This happens, then that, suspense about what’s next. You’re inside the timeline, moving through it moment by moment. The end hasn’t happened yet from your perspective.
After finishing: Suddenly you can see the whole. Beginning, middle, and end exist simultaneously in your understanding. You grasp how early events foreshadowed later ones. The pattern that was invisible while living through it becomes clear when you see it complete. The ending recapitulates and reframes the entire story. This is the difference between the temporal and eternal perspective.
Before resurrection, we experience life sequentially—birth, growth, crisis, suffering, death. We’re inside the timeline, we can’t see how it all fits together. We don’t know the end. We’re living Stage 1-7 linearly.
But resurrection (Stage 8) is entering God’s eternal perspective. Not living endlessly through more sequential moments, but seeing the whole pattern at once. Your entire life—every moment, every choice, every suffering, every joy—suddenly visible as a unified whole. The meaning that was hidden in sequential experience becomes clear when you see it eternally.
This is why Paul can say we’re already “seated with Christ in heavenly places” (Ephesians 2:6) while also waiting for resurrection. From God’s eternal perspective, your Stage 8 is already accomplished. From your temporal perspective, you’re still moving through Stages 1-7 toward it. Both are true from their respective vantage points.
And here’s the promise: when you enter that eternal mode (Stage 8), you don’t lose your temporal experience (1-7). You see it transfigured—every moment redeemed by being seen in relation to the whole. Suffering makes sense, your joy multiplies, and the seemingly random becomes clear.
This is what Jesus meant: “I am the resurrection and the life” (John 11:25). Not “I will cause you to live endlessly” but “I AM the eternal mode—enter me and you participate in seeing all things whole, even now.”
The resurrection life doesn’t begin after death. It begins the moment you start participating in the eternal perspective through relationship with the Eternal One. And it will be fully realized when your temporal experience completes (S7) and you enter fully into that eternal mode (S8) with a transfigured body capable of bearing that perspective.
Infinite = Transcendent to Space (Not Boundless Space)
The standard view: God is infinite means God is boundlessly big—unlimited spatial magnitude, measureless extension. God fills all space, present in every location by covering infinite territory.
The problem: This makes God and space coextensive. If God fills all space, then where God ends, space ends—or space becomes infinite and God fills infinite space. Either way, God becomes spatially located (everywhere is still a location).
The correction: God’s infinity means God transcends spatial categories entirely. Not “very big” or “everywhere extended” but “beyond space.” God doesn’t occupy locations—God is the ground from which space itself emerges.
What this means practically:
God isn’t “in” locations the way objects occupy space. When we say God is “here,” we don’t mean He’s spatially present the way a person is in a room. We mean He’s relationally present, choosing to manifest, making Himself known. His presence is dimensional—breaking through from the transcendent ground into spatial reality—not distributional.
Think of it this way: The sun doesn’t occupy the same space as the plants it nourishes, yet its presence is undeniably real to them. They exist in continuous relation to that life-giving source, oriented toward it, and sustained by it. But sunrays and the plant aren’t in the same location. The sun transcends the plant’s environment while remaining intimately connected to it.
Similarly, God’s infinite nature doesn’t mean He’s “in all locations.” It means He’s the transcendent ground from which all locations emerge and to which all locations relate. Not spatial distribution but ontological foundation.
Biblical support:
“The heavens, even the highest heaven, cannot contain you” (1 Kings 8:27)—not because God is too big to fit, but because He transcends spatial containment entirely.
“Do I not fill heaven and earth?” (Jeremiah 23:24)—not spatial filling like air fills a room, but sovereign presence, sustaining power, comprehensive awareness. His rule “fills” all reality without requiring spatial distribution.
God’s infinity isn’t about size. It’s about being the source from which all space emerges and the goal toward which all creation moves—beyond the categories we use to measure creation.
Omnipresent = Transcendent to Spatial Limitation (Not Everywhere Spatially)
The standard view: God is omnipresent means God is simultaneously present in all locations—spatially distributed throughout reality, equally present everywhere at all times.
The problem: This conflates God’s transcendence with spatial distribution. It makes “omnipresent” mean “fills all space,” which is essentially pantheistic—God becomes coextensive with creation.
The correction: God’s omnipresence means God transcends spatial limitation entirely. He’s not bound to any location, not absent from any location, but also not spatially distributed across all locations. His presence is relational and particular, not geographical and universal.
What this means practically:
God chooses where to manifest His presence. Throughout Scripture, God’s presence is particular: the burning bush, the pillar of cloud, the Temple, the Incarnation, the indwelling Spirit. These aren’t locations where God “happens to be” versus other locations where He’s not. They’re moments where God chooses to make His presence known in specific, manifest ways.
This doesn’t mean God is “absent” from other locations. But His awareness, power, and sovereignty (which are comprehensive) are different from His manifest presence (which is particular and relational).
Biblical support:
Consider how often Scripture describes God’s presence as particular rather than universal:
God walking in the garden (Genesis 3:8)—specific location, specific time. The burning bush (Exodus 3)—”the place where you are standing is holy ground”—particular sacred space. The Tabernacle and Temple (Exodus 40:34-35, 1 Kings 8:10-11)—God’s glory dwells in a specific place. Ezekiel’s vision of glory departing (Ezekiel 10-11)—God’s presence leaves the Temple. The Incarnation (John 1:14)—”The Word became flesh and dwelt among us”—God present in specific body, specific location. Indwelling believers (1 Corinthians 6:19)—”Your body is temple of the Holy Spirit”—particular presence, not universal.
Why would any of this matter or be special in any way if God was equally present everywhere?
Scripture emphasizes God’s particular, relational presence:
“Draw near to God and He will draw near to you” (James 4:8)
“Where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them” (Matthew 18:20)
“I will come and make my home with him” (John 14:23)
What Scripture teaches instead of spatial omnipresence:
God’s awareness is comprehensive: “The eyes of the Lord are everywhere” (Proverbs 15:3)—He sees all, knows all
God’s power is unlimited: “I know that you can do all things” (Job 42:2)—He can act anywhere, nothing is beyond His reach
God’s sovereignty is absolute: “He does as he pleases with the powers of heaven and the peoples of the earth” (Daniel 4:35)—He rules all
God’s presence is particular: He chooses to manifest relationally, not spatially
God is not “everywhere in everything.” God is the source and the goal—all emerges from Him, all depends on Him, and all moves toward Him. This describes an ontological relationship, not spatial location.
The Limits of Our Understanding
All this said, as finite, temporal, and spatial beings, we cannot fully comprehend what it means for God to transcend these categories entirely. We can state more clearly what God is NOT (not endless time, not boundless space, not spatially distributed) than what God positively IS in His transcendent nature.
This isn’t theological defeat—it’s proper humility before the incomprehensible. The apophatic tradition (negative theology) has always recognized this: we know God more truly by what we deny of Him than by what we affirm about Him. Gregory of Nyssa taught that the true vision of God consists in never reaching satisfaction—that God’s infinity means there’s always more to know, always further depths of mystery.
But here’s the critical point: we must resist the urge to translate transcendence into terms we can fully grasp. We easily find ourselves trying to make God comprehensible by making Him endless (time we understand, just extended forever) or boundless (space we understand, just unlimited) or everywhere (location we understand, just all of them). This feels humble—”at least I’m making Him really big”—but it actually dishonors God by reducing transcendence to quantity. And it confuses us by keeping God trapped within categories He created.
It’s the difference between saying:
“I don’t know exactly how far away the moon is” (admitting limited knowledge within comprehensible categories)
“I don’t know what it would mean to exist outside space entirely” (acknowledging incomprehensible categories)
The first admits ignorance, the second acknowledges mystery. Mystery isn’t just “things we don’t know yet”—it’s realities that transcend our categories of knowing and it’s better to acknowledge mystery while rejecting false clarity. We don’t know what eternity fully IS, but we know it’s not endless time. We don’t know what infinity fully IS, but we know it’s not boundless space. We don’t know what omnipresence fully IS, but we know it’s not spatial distribution. The limit of our comprehension doesn’t justify compression into comprehensible-but-wrong categories.
This is the boundary: We can state what God is (source, telos, transcendent) without fully comprehending the mode of that transcendence. Like a character in a novel can know the author exists, matters supremely, and is beyond the story’s world—without being able to comprehend what it means to be outside the narrative. The character’s inability to fully understand “outside the book” doesn’t mean the author is “just at the end of more pages.”
And we trust that God reveals Himself sufficiently for us to know Him truly, even if not exhaustively. The Incarnation is God’s answer to our comprehension problem—the transcendent One entering our categories so we can encounter Him. We meet God in Jesus not because we’ve figured out transcendence, but because He has condescended to our finitude.
Three Helpful Analogies
When we say God isn’t “far away” but transcendent to space, and isn’t “everywhere” but transcendent to spatial distribution, we must be careful. We’re navigating between two errors: Gnostic distance and pantheistic diffusion. Let me clarify what we mean through three analogies:
The Painter and Paintings
You recognize an artist’s hand throughout their work. The style, vision, technique are evident in every brushstroke. The paintings participate in and reveal the artist’s creative presence. You can point to a painting and say, “That’s unmistakably a Rembrandt.”
But the paintings aren’t the painter. You can’t point to a brushstroke and say, “Here is Rembrandt himself.” The work reveals the artist without being identical to the artist. The presence is undeniable yet distinct.
Similarly, creation participates in and reveals God. “The heavens declare the glory of God” (Psalm 19:1). His fingerprints are everywhere, but creation isn’t God. We worship the Creator, not the creation (Romans 1:25).
The Sun and Plants
Plants exist in continuous relationship with the sun. They’re oriented toward it, nourished by it, and shaped by it. They reach constantly for what sustains them. Without the sun, they die. The sun’s presence is undeniably real to them—it’s their very life.
But plants aren’t the sun. They don’t contain the sun. The sun remains distinct, transcendent to the plants’ environment, yet intimately connected as their source of life.
Similarly, we exist in continuous relationship with God. “In Him we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28). We’re sustained by Him, and oriented toward Him. His presence is our life, but we aren’t God. We participate in God’s life without being identical to God.
The Seed and Tree
An acorn contains the pattern of the oak. As it grows, it moves toward actualization of what it already is potentially. The mature tree is the fulfillment of the seed’s inherent design. Seed and tree are the same organism at different stages—the potential moving toward actualization.
But the seed and the tree aren’t identical at any given moment. The seed participates in the pattern of the tree without yet being the mature form. The actualized form is both continuous with and distinct from the potential.
Similarly, creation is moving toward its fulfillment in God. We’re made in God’s image (Genesis 1:27), bearing His pattern. We’re growing toward maturity, “until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ” (Ephesians 4:13). Creation moves toward fulfillment in the new heaven and new earth. But we aren’t yet what we will be (1 John 3:2). We participate in God’s life, moving toward completion, without being identical to God.
What these analogies establish:
God is source (Stage 0∞)—all emerges from Him, like paintings from a painter, plants from the sun’s energy, a tree from a seed’s pattern.
God is telos (Stage 8∞)—all moves toward Him, like paintings revealing an artist, plants reaching for the sun, a seed actualizing into a tree.
And God is distinct—Creator and creation remain separate even as relationship is intimate.
This is neither Gnostic distance (painter in a different world than paintings) nor pantheistic identification (paintings are painter). It’s the biblical relationship: distinct yet intimate, transcendent yet present, other yet near.
Historical Agreement and Divergence
This understanding isn’t novel. It’s a recovery of ancient Christian insight that got obscured by philosophical categories we borrowed but never fully examined.
Irenaeus Understood This
Irenaeus of Lyons (130-202 AD), one of the earliest church fathers and combatant against Gnosticism, articulated transcendence properly. According to scholars, he maintained “God’s nature as spirit, thus maintaining the divine transcendence through God’s higher order of being as opposed to the use of spatial imagery (God is separated/far away from creation).”
Irenaeus “removes spatial language and a time element from the concept of divine generation.” He understood that true transcendence means being beyond spatial and temporal categories, not being far away in space or distant in time.
His anthropology also preserved a proper understanding:
“The perfect man is a mixture and union of the soul who has received the Spirit of the Father and who has been mixed with the flesh modeled according to the image of God.” Body + Soul (receiving Spirit) = Complete human. Not soul imprisoned in body (Platonic dualism) but unified organism participating in God’s life.
Early Church Held Trichotomy
The tripartite view—body, soul, and spirit as distinct components of human nature—was “considered an orthodox interpretation in the first three centuries of the church.” Many early fathers taught this: Irenaeus, Tatian, Melito, Justin Martyr, Clement of Alexandria, Gregory of Nyssa, Basil.
This matters because it preserved proper relationship between material and spiritual without collapsing them or opposing them. Body and spirit together constitute the human soul (unified person). Neither component is superior or inferior—both are necessary.
Augustine’s Overcorrection
Augustine (354-430 AD) rejected trichotomy in his fight against Pelagianism. Semi-Pelagians were using the three-part distinction to argue that the spirit remained exempt from original sin, implying free will to initiate salvation. Augustine collapsed spirit into soul, creating simple body-soul dualism to ensure all human nature was affected by sin.
His intentions were orthodox—defending grace against works-righteousness, but the effect was reintroducing Platonic categories he was trying to avoid. By making humans “souls inhabiting bodies” rather than unified body-spirit-soul organisms, he reinforced the dualism that enables Gnostic thinking.
This is why even careful theologians like Tozer, fifteen centuries later, still use categories that produce the problems they’re trying to solve. The Platonic framework became so embedded through figures like Augustine that it feels natural, biblical, orthodox—even when it isn’t.
Contemporary Recognition
Many scholars now recognize body-soul dualism isn’t biblical. N.T. Wright has argued extensively that “the early Christians did not believe in ‘going to heaven when you die.’” Oscar Cullmann distinguished Hebrew holistic thought from Greek dualistic categories. There’s growing awareness that something’s wrong with our inherited frameworks.
But recognition of the problem often remains piecemeal—recovering bodily resurrection while still thinking of eternity as endless time, affirming creation while treating infinite as boundless space. What’s needed is systematic correction at the foundational level.
The pattern we’re discovering here provides that framework. Not as a new revelation but as a tool for seeing the pattern that was always there—a pattern the early church glimpsed, that got obscured by philosophical accommodation, and that can now be recovered and articulated with contemporary precision.
Why This Changes Everything
Three simple corrections:
Eternal = transcendent to time (not endless time)
Infinite = transcendent to space (not boundless space)
Omnipresent = transcendent to spatial limitation (not spatially everywhere)
Here’s what happens when you get these right:
If God transcends temporal categories: Then bodily resurrection makes sense—we participate both now and in the future in a different mode of being.
If God transcends spatial categories: Then the Incarnation makes sense—an infinite God can fully dwell in a finite body. Not God “cramming in” but dimensional presence manifesting materially.
If God’s presence is relational, not spatial: Then material reality matters ultimately—bodies can be temples, bread can be body, creation can be sacramental. God manifests through matter without matter becoming mysteriously divine.
Every doctrine downstream shifts from Gnostic escape to material redemption. Not because we’re changing what Scripture says, but because we can finally see what it’s been saying all along.
Part 3 will trace this cascade systematically: Incarnation, anthropology, soteriology, ecclesiology, eschatology, ethics—watch how everything transforms when the cornerstone is properly placed.
Because if the foundation is corrected, the entire edifice can be rebuilt soundly.
The cathedral rises when the cornerstone is solid.
Excellent, but a lot to digest. I almost disagreed with you about omnipresence but then read the whole post and did not lean on my own understanding.
I'll probably come back to this one for more contemplation