Few ideas have accompanied humanity as faithfully as the idea of God. Yet across cultures, one curious pattern emerges: the more vividly people imagined their gods, the more human those gods became. In the case of very ancient times, before the first farmers, historians, archaeologists, and related scholars believe that animist religions existed. However, as humans developed their ability to imagine, we find that most gods began to resemble humans not only in form but also in behaviour. Today, we are here to discuss what I like to call “humanizing gods.”

This process makes supernatural beings closer to humans and, therefore, more relatable.

In the Mediterranean and the Near East, the earliest literature shaped gods in the mould of human emperors, complete with volatile tempers and political anxiety. As described by Homer and Hesiod, the Greek gods behaved very much like humans. For instance, let us consider one of the most popular epics of all time. In the Iliad, the gods engage in petty arguments like a fractious family; they revolt against one another and, to everyone’s surprise, feel pain and even bleed like human beings in battle.

This act of anthropomorphism is not only unique to Greece; it also appears in one of the oldest literary traditions of Mesopotamia, The Epic of Gilgamesh. The gods are portrayed as short-sighted: when they unleash a flood to wipe out the human race, they later regret their impulsive decision, much as humans do. The rest of the epic is, of course, widely known. Even in the Hebrew Bible, the divine is shown experiencing human emotions.

Even in the East as well, we find similar examples. In Wu Cheng’en’s Ming-dynasty classic Journey to the West, the Jade Emperor rules Heaven not as an omniscient, all-powerful deity but as an overworked and highly bureaucratic monarch. He depends on ministers who often make mistakes and is easily flustered by Sun Wukong. The gods can even be promoted or demoted according to their performance reports, a situation strikingly reminiscent of the corporate world.

In the cradle of the Western philosophy, Xenophanes, a pre-Socratic philosopher, criticised Homeric anthropomorphism, arguing that if oxen and horses could draw their gods, they would create them in their own image. Later, Plato argued in The Republic that Homer’s depictions of warring and deceitful gods could negatively influence the moral education of citizens and therefore should be excluded from the curriculum of the ideal state.

In Hinduism, too, we find gods such as Indra, who fears losing his position and therefore disrupts the peaceful meditation of rishis in order to preserve his status as king of the gods.

Furthermore, the supreme divine being Vishnu often takes human forms and lives a human life. These manifestations are described by the terms Avatar (divine descent) and Lila (divine play), through which he experiences the full spectrum of human emotions and human problems.

Finally, the humanisation of gods reveals a fundamental truth: that we cannot easily worship or relate to an abstract void. Whether it is the Western tradition of Homer, the grieving avatars of Hinduism, or the bureaucrat deities of Chinese lore, early literature presents a human face as necessary for making sense of the divine. By shaping gods from the raw material of human flaws, sorrows and emotions, storytellers across cultures have not sought to diminish their sacredness; rather, they have made the universe feel less lonely for their fellow human beings.