Einstein called it ‘spooky action at a distance,’ but the phenomenon he mocked may illuminate the divine By Michael Guillén April 12, 2026.
For millennia, the concept of an omniscient God — a deity who knows every sparrow that falls, every thought that forms, and every star that burns across the vast expanse of the cosmos — has boggled the human imagination. How in the world can any entity, no matter how supreme, know everything that’s happening everywhere, all at once, in real time, and with atomic-level intimacy?
To the strict materialist, it sounds like an impossibility, a wondrous but completely illogical relic of ancient philosophies and religions. Yet, when one plumbs the depths of modern physics, one discovers something utterly profound: The concept of divine omniscience is not just plausible; its mechanism is woven into the very fabric of spacetime.
This deeply mysterious mechanism is called quantum entanglement. It was first acknowledged in 1935 by physicists Albert Einstein, Boris Podolsky and Nathan Rosen; verified theoretically in 1964 by physicist John Stewart Bell; and validated experimentally in 1972 by physicists John Clauser and Stuart Freedman.
Here’s how it works.
Two objects — for example, subatomic particles — that are intimately related and then widely separated somehow maintain an invisible, intimate and unbreakable connection. One object might be in a lab on Earth and the other might be clear across the universe, billions of light-years away, yet whatever happens to one is known and felt by the other instantaneously, without any delay whatsoever.
Einstein was none too pleased with quantum entanglement because it violates a sacred principle of his theory of special relativity: Nothing — not even information — can travel faster than the speed of light. He mocked the idea that two widely separated objects could communicate infinitely fast, calling it spukhafte Fernwirkung, German for “spooky action at a distance.”
Even though he was ultimately proven wrong both theoretically and experimentally, Einstein was right to call quantum entanglement spooky. To this day, the instantaneous signals passing between entangled objects are like nothing we can explain. They’re something totally different from radio waves and light signals.
Indeed, one would be justified in calling the connection between widely separated, entangled objects “otherworldly.” I say that because quantum entanglement clearly offers us a stunning scientific explication of the age-old belief in an omniscient God.
Many people carry with them the image of a deity who is far removed from human affairs, peering down on his creation through a cosmic telescope, waiting for the light of our actions to reach him in heaven. Quantum entanglement offers us a radically different image: A God who is strongly entangled with the whole of creation — right down to the very atoms of our being — by virtue of his being the source of the universe and everything in it.
In other words, the existence of quantum entanglement offers us a fresh perspective on God’s omniscience. It suggests that God’s awareness of the universe is not obtained through observation; it’s acquired via an intimate, instantaneous, “spooky” connection.
Just as an object instantaneously knows and feels whatever happens to its entangled partner clear across the universe, God instantaneously knows and feels everything that happens to every single atom anywhere in the universe — and beyond. There’s no distance too great, no darkness too deep, to sever that deep, fundamental connection between Creator and creation.
As fellow travelers on this journey called life, we’re tempted to maintain a firewall between the realm of science and the realm of the spirit. We’re mistaught that the former deals in cold, hard facts, while the latter deals in blind faith. But when we look closely at the invisible, underlying architecture of reality, that wall crumbles.
Science does not erase the majesty of the divine; it illuminates it. It shows us that we live in a universe filled with unseen forces, deeply interconnected and governed by mysteries that should leave us filled with awe and wonder.
So, then, the next time you look up at the night sky, I encourage you to resist the impulse to look upon the cosmos as nothing but a collection of isolated, distant stars. Instead, allow yourself to behold it for what it really is: a grand, entangled tapestry!
Above all, consider this: The same invisible architecture that instantaneously and intimately connects physical objects across the cosmic void is of the very same design that connects you — instantaneously, intimately, and eternally — to the mind and spirit of God.
Michael Guillén