Picture this: a space-age, robotic factory. White walls and floors. Glowing indicator lights. You see pulleys, levers, platforms, and robotic arms—all working together around a little white box. You walk closer to see what sort of factory you are in: it is so clean for a factory! You peek over the edge of a little box to see what is being manufactured with such precision. Surprise! It’s a baby!

This isn’t a futuristic factory at all, but a hospital nursery from the 1940s. The scientific opinion of the day was that a baby would be healthiest with limited human contact in a sterile environment. Each baby’s crib was tended by a system of pulleys, platforms and robotic arms to change diapers, administer bottles and cover with blankets.

The system allowed just one nurse to tend a room full of babies! Brilliant! So why aren’t automated nurseries a part of every hospital and home now? Why don’t we all have robot nannies like the Jetsons? Well, there was one problem…

This marvel of medicine and engineering was killing a lot of babies.

How? It didn’t drop them, smother them or malfunction in any way. It tended to every physical need of the children—or so it was thought. It was a sin of omission, if you will. The robots couldn’t snuggle.

Human touch was the only thing lacking from these babies’ lives, and that lack was killing them. Modern medicine was learning the hard way that people—from the beginning—have a desperate need for intimacy.

In the short time since these unfortunate revelations, more and more evidence has been found to support the profound impact of touch in our lives. Our mental health, intelligence, emotional health, even the strength of our immune systems are directly related to the amount and quality of touch we receive as babies.

Intimacy as God’s children

If human intimacy is so vital to our physical lives, I wonder: How important is spiritual intimacy in our religious lives? Do we have a loving, trusting, personal relationship with God? Or do we seek perfection in ritual over connection with our Creator?

The story that sparked this idea for me was the story of Job. Job feared God. He went above and beyond in keeping God's commandments, making sacrificial offerings, and avoiding sin. He even made regular sacrifices to God in order to intercede for potential sins his children might have done without his knowledge (Job 1:1-5).

To me, the book of Job is the ultimate theater experience. We see the dialogue between God and Satan regarding Job on the heavenly stage (Job 1:6-12). God sees the best in Job: his obedience, his service and his righteousness. Satan sees the worst: Job's pride and stubbornness. Satan tries to expose Job's faults with unbearable trials, and predicts that Job will curse God to his face. God agrees to the test, but puts boundaries on Satan's power over Job. Job maintains his composure when all of his wealth is stolen and destroyed. He even withstands the deaths of all seven of his children. But when Satan ups the ante and destroys Job's health, Job blames God for his hardships, and demands an explanation (Job 6:4, 7:19).

As the "audience," we are able to see both "stages," and we know that when Job feels abandoned by God, God is actually right there with him, believing the best about him. We see that Satan is the architect of Job's misery, not God. God allows Job to wrestle with who he believes God is, and why a good God could cause him so much pain. Then God does give Job an explanation. When I put myself in Job's place and read the exchange, it makes my hair stand on end. Go ahead and read it in Job 38-41. Job's final recorded words are humble and contrite: "I had only heard about you before, but now I have seen you with my own eyes. I take back everything I said, and I sit in dust and ashes to show my repentance" (Job 42:5-6, New Living Translation).

Is there room for God in your religion?

This brings me to my question: Is there room for God in your religion? Or are you like Job: so wrapped up in ceremony and ritual that you don't actually connect with your Creator? Are you just "hearing about God," or are you seeing Him?

I came to the realization that I am Job. Maybe you are, too. We do our best to follow the rules, as we should. We respect and fear God, as we should. But we spend more time learning about God than we spend connecting with God. God is not a historical figure from a textbook; he is real, alive, and present.

What is the solution? How can we stand in trials with integrity and security? I think the lesson of Job's story is the same as the lesson of the automated nursery: Relationship is key. If we make time to strengthen our relationship with our Father, we will be able to trust in his purpose and his goodness, even when we do not understand our circumstances.

We cannot mechanize our spiritual lives and expect to thrive.