The grain of mustard and the eternal mote
I’ve mentioned this before, but it’s worth restatement: effectiveness derives from restriction, the more restrictions you impose upon yourself the more effective you become—therefore, the most effective entity in existence is that which has most radically restricted itself, hence God is that which is most radically restricted; and so the most creative entity in creation, most effective in its creativeness, would also be the most difficult to perceive. This is why the grain of mustard is alluded to by Jesus and the Hindus as being related to “the kingdom of heaven” and why a rabbi remarked that people cannot find God today because they cannot bend low enough (it sounds like he wants you to humble yourself, but actually he means people literally cannot bend over—as if they searched for a contact lens on the ground).
I have, in effect, stated St. Anslem’s ontological proof in reverse, viz.: God is the being than which none greater can be imagined; we cannot imagine anything greater than God—therefore, God exists (I knocked out a few intermediate steps, but this contains the essence). I’ve gone in the opposite direction; far from being the greatest thing in existence, God is the smallest thing in existence—it’s a requirement for him to create anything at all, he’s smaller than a grain of mustard. This also conforms to the common theological assertion that God withdraws himself in order to create—restriction is creation.
I appeal also to abductive logic; in particular, the fact that man has always thought—in one way or another—that there was some “thing” behind existence (and this entity’s existence has been suggested by ghosts, holy men, and numerous paranormal events throughout history). The persistence of this “invisible yet all-powerful entity” makes sense if that entity is utterly constrained so as to be almost beyond perception, save suggestive paranormal events—it is, given the reports throughout history, the most likely explanation in abductive terms. God isn’t great, he’s tiny—the eternal mote.