Looking for God’s Resume

“Nobody’s perfect.”—anonymous

“I’m an agthetic: I don’t know and don’t care whether God exists.”—college flat-mate

 

So, Where's the Resume That Covers This?

Assuming that if God submitted a job resume, it would be perfect, reviewing it as a job applicant or as a recruiter would prove to be a very useful and instructive exercise.

However, it is one thing to be open to the idea of gleaning something from The Ultimate Resume,  and quite another to even imagine getting one’s hands on it.

That would, nonetheless, be the greatest windfall and breakthrough in the history of job hunting ever since Adam and Eve were, we are told, banished from the Garden of Eden and forced to create or find jobs for themselves.

Imagine: a glimpse of the Ten Commandments of resume writing implicit in the perfection of the Creator’s CV. Sure, none of us could match the content or the exemption from references—but the form! Think of the form! Obviously, since any resume standards that we mortals could possibly aspire to adopt could be no better than that one, all we would have to do is to do our best to emulate, i.e., crib, as much of it as we could.

As for an omnipotent God’s possible motivation in submitting a resume, despite no evident need for one or for a job, it can be argued that such a CV would be analogous to the revelation of the Ten Commandments—a revealed set of guidelines to steer us in the right direction, especially given that we, most of our ancestors and descendants— immediate and remote— will have at some time been pushed into work as a result of the push from Eden. (Who knows?—Maybe God’s resume could tacitly be an apology and helping hand to those of us who have had to look for work and validation for the rest who have not.)

The obvious problem is that it seems that no such Divine resume exists. Or does it? Surprise!  Here is a proof that God’s resume does indeed exist. (What follows may have a familiar ring for those of you who have ever heard of St. Anselm. If not, enjoy the perfect freshness of the proof and Google “St. Anselm” later.):

STEP 1: Imagine (or, with less effort, conceive) a perfect resume than which none greater can be conceived…..(Try very hard. OK?)

STEP 2: Now imagine that perfect resume does not exist. (That should be easy.)

STEP 3:  But then, consider that if that perfect resume does not exist, it follows that it is not as perfect as an identical resume that in fact exists and can just as easily be conceived—since the hard part was conceiving the perfect resume in the first place. (A pizza that actually exists is more perfect than one that does not. Call this “the Perfect Pizza Principle”.) That is to say you can conceive or imagine a perfect resume that does exist and also understand that it is more perfect than a so-called “perfect” one that doesn’t exist.

STEP 4: Accept the fact that the than-which-no-greater-exists, truly most perfect resume must exist. (That’s because existence is a form of perfection—as the PPP (Perfect Pizza Principle) illustrates and because you can conceive that perfection. Besides, if you claim you can’t, someone else can. If you don’t mind the subtle circularity, it can be argued that God can.)

STEP 5:  Accept the fact that since God is the most perfect being of all, that resume must be His…or Hers…or Its. (This conclusion seems inescapable.)

STEP 6: Try to find it.

You may be tempted to counter that even if this proves God’s resume has existed, it’s still possible that it doesn’t exist anymore—on analogy with the “God Is Dead” notion. Once was, now isn’t.

Sorry, that line of argument won’t work—neither for God nor for The Resume.  The non-existence of either is inconceivable. That’s because not only does God’s resume exist, it must exist,—forever, as well as now and in the past.

Here’s why: If a perfect God’s perfect resume could somehow be destroyed—not by a perfect God, since there would be no reason to destroy anything perfect, it would not be as perfect as a resume that could not be destroyed. This concept is very similar to the idea of a Superman who cannot be destroyed by kryptonite, or by anything else, being more perfect than one that could.

If you think this is mere wordplay, try to conceive the non-existence of space….OK, try again. You don’t have to try to imagine it; just conceive it. Conceiving is easier than imagining, e.g., conceiving a shape with 24,236 sides is easier than  imagining it. Still can’t do it, right? Empty space is not the same thing as no-space. Neither is a vacuum. Nor an infinitesimally small Big-Bang mass point. Nor absolute darkness. That won’t work either, since the darkness is an expanse and an expanse defines a space.

God and The Resume apparently are just like space: nonexistence? Inconceivable. (For those of you philosophically-minded or well-versed, think “Kant”.)

That said, all that remains is for someone to find That Resume–the one that is perfect and therefore indestructible.  Can it be found? Of course.

…by the perfect resume hunter than whom no greater can be conceived.