Why Would a God Want to Be Human?
Why would God want to be human? Seriously, if you had the ability to take on any form, to exist in any way, would you really pick a body that sweats, farts, gets cavities, and needs eight hours of sleep just to function properly? Let’s be honest, the human body is far from some flawless masterpiece of design. It’s a high-maintenance, injury-prone, aging pile of meat that requires constant upkeep. So why do so many religious traditions insist that God—this supposed limitless, all-powerful being—has a form that resembles ours? The Hare Krishnas take this further, claiming that Krishna’s human-like body is not subject to the flaws of ordinary flesh but is instead a "perfect" form, eternal, blissful, and beyond decay. But that raises even more questions.
If Krishna’s body is perfect and beyond decay, then why does he have bodily features that seem functionally unnecessary? Why have a digestive system if he doesn’t actually need to eat? If he eats, does he still have an anus? If he does, does he use it? And if not, then why have it? Why would a divine form mimic the design of human biology while being exempt from its flaws? If his body is immune to suffering, fatigue, or injury, then what’s the point of having muscles, bones, or a nervous system? These aren’t just trivial details; they expose the contradiction in claiming that God takes on a human form while simultaneously insisting that this form is above the basic biological realities that make it human in the first place.
The argument often goes that humans are special because we are the only creatures who ask, who seek, who wonder why we’re here. And because we do this, it must mean we are somehow reflections of God himself. The logic is basically: we think about God, therefore, God must be like us. But that’s some real self-important, human-centric thinking. If dolphins had developed philosophy first, they’d probably argue that God is sleek, aquatic, and enjoys swimming in large pods. If ants had developed theological texts, they’d probably assume God is a collective intelligence operating for the good of the whole. But no, humans think God must be human, because we’re at the top of the food chain and we have self-awareness, so that must mean we’re the blueprint for all things divine.
And let’s talk about those forms God supposedly takes. The Hindu pantheon is full of gods with multiple heads, extra arms, and, in some cases, straight-up animal features. Ganesh has the head of an elephant. Vishnu has four arms. Brahma has four heads, which, frankly, just sounds exhausting. Indra is sometimes depicted with eyes all over his body, which seems like a sensory nightmare. These aren’t elegant designs; they’re the ancient equivalent of someone saying, “Wouldn’t it be cool if our hero had, like, six arms so he could carry more weapons?” It’s comic book logic, not divine necessity. If having multiple arms was actually efficient, evolution would have made it a thing by now. But no, we get stuck with two arms, two legs, and a bunch of vulnerabilities that make life harder than it needs to be.
Even within human depictions of God, there are cultural shifts. Krishna is often painted clean-shaven, but in certain dynastic periods in India where mustaches were fashionable, suddenly Krishna has a mustache. Jesus, originally depicted as a Middle Eastern Jew, somehow morphed into a blonde-haired, blue-eyed guy in Renaissance Europe. God’s image isn’t fixed; it’s molded by cultural preferences, meaning that what people call "divine form" is really just an aesthetic choice based on current human fashion trends.
And then there’s the issue of movement. Human bodies are awkward. Our joints wear down. We’re clumsy. We have a very limited range of motion. If God wanted to have a body, why not go for something with infinite adaptability? A fluid, shape-shifting form that doesn’t get tired, doesn’t ache, doesn’t suffer the indignities of aging? If we assume God is human-shaped but doesn’t suffer any of the drawbacks of having a body, then why have a body at all? Why maintain the illusion of needing to eat if digestion isn’t necessary? Why blink if your eyes never dry out? It’s like putting fake wheels on a spaceship just so it looks like a car. If God takes human form but doesn’t need to deal with any of the limitations of being human, then it’s just cosplay.
All of this points to one thing: humans invented the idea of a human-shaped God because it made them feel special. They wanted a God they could relate to, one that shared their struggles, looked like them, and reinforced the idea that being human was the pinnacle of existence. But the more you actually think about it, the more ridiculous it becomes. If a truly supreme being exists, it’s far more likely to be something completely beyond human comprehension, not a glorified version of ourselves with perfect hair and a celestial six-pack. The human body is a biological accident shaped by evolution, not the ideal form of a limitless cosmic entity. So if God exists, one thing is pretty clear—he definitely wouldn’t want to be human.
