Longing for Transcendence
Our restless hearts searching for Him
The Creation of Adam by Michelangelo (1512)
“The man who knocks on the door of a brothel is looking for God.”
— G.K. Chesterton
Brittany, a 32-year-old single woman and Quantitative Risk Analyst, recently moved to the city. She loses herself completely at the Abstract Expressionism exhibit, captivated by the bold, chaotic brushstrokes of Jackson Pollock.
James, a 53-year-old husband and father of three, leaps to his feet at the basketball arena, frantically waving his arms and shouting at the top of his lungs, urging his team toward a critical defensive stop in the final minutes of the championship game.
Susan, a 64-year-old wife, mother, and grandmother, savors her Manhattan as she settles comfortably into a back booth at The Velvet Note, drawn into the rich, flowing melodies of a local jazz trio performing Herbie Hancock’s Maiden Voyage.
What do Brittany, James, and Susan share in common? And more importantly, what do each of us have in common with them?
At the core of every human heart is a profound longing for transcendence—a deep desire to connect with something greater and more meaningful than ourselves. Whether it's getting lost in the breathtaking beauty of art, feeling unity in a stadium full of cheering fans, or becoming swept away by the intoxicating power of music, we live for these moments that seem to transport us beyond our ordinary experiences. It's in these moments that the space between heaven and earth grows thin.
As I write this, I’m listening to a vinyl record I just unwrapped—Wide Awake by Haevn. Their music is a blend of cinematic atmosphere and indie-pop sounds that take me somewhere beyond the ordinary. The vinyl insert contains these words:
"With this album we want to transport you to a colorful inner space of acceptance and peace, free of judgment. Our wish is that this music helps you discover the same sense of pride, love, kindness, and empathy that we found in creating it, empowering you to face the world with confidence and grace."
You and I share this deep longing for transcendence. It manifests in our pursuit of meaning, purpose, beauty, and ultimately, connection with the divine. We ache for those moments when the mundane, broken, and trivial fade away, leaving us fully aware that we're meant for more than this world can offer.
In Acts 17:22-31, the Apostle Paul brilliantly taps into this universal human longing when he speaks to the Athenians:
He recognizes our universal human impulse to seek the divine (Acts 17:22-23).
He points us to God as the source and sustainer of life (Acts 17:24-25).
He acknowledges that every human is fundamentally a seeker and worshipper (Acts 17:26-27).
He connects human intuition and philosophy back to the truth of God (Acts 17:28).
He ultimately invites people to repent and turn toward the risen Christ, the only one who fully satisfies our longing (Acts 17:29-31).
I love how Paul doesn't dismiss this human longing as misguided. Instead, he gently redirects it toward its true fulfillment. C.S. Lewis famously observed in Mere Christianity:
“If I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world.”
Perhaps the longing we feel—the fleeting joy of beauty, the overwhelming passion in cheering our team, the emotional depth of music—isn't accidental. Perhaps these are echoes of eternity, whispers inviting us into something greater. Could it be that at every intersection of transcendence and wonder, our Creator is gently calling us closer, inviting us into a life of deeper relationship, vulnerability, and profound intimacy with Him?
Maybe the ache we feel in those moments isn’t merely sentiment—it’s an invitation, lovingly offered by our Creator, into a story richer and more beautiful than we could ever imagine.