God, limitation, imagination [STUB]
TL;DR: When God makes itself a pig, it is not God within a pig. It is simply just a pig.
A common atheist talking point is the question "can God create a rock too heavy for God to lift?" We've all heard this before. The idea is that if God can create the rock, his strength is limited by his will. 1 If he cannot his will is limited by his strength. The flaw being that both are simply will, the laws in the first place are will. Earlier this week I was asked this question in person, and it has prompted a deeper though.
I responded by saying God can certainly limit itself, yes. According to the German philosopher Fichte, both God and humans identify the world by limiting their Self.2 For God to know any experience is to limit itself. God knows what it is like to be you, but only by ignoring everything else. It's selective ignorance.
To God every rock is entirely too heavy, and every rock is entirely weightless. Really, it's not a great question for an atheist to ask. For (almost) everyone God and the natural world are two different entities that aren't bound by the same law. I think of it like this: in your imagination can you picture a rock too heavy for you to lift? Well, you can imagine both situations! It wouldn't make sense to say that either change anything about your your own ability/will. The only limitation is if you can imagine it in the first place. It's the same thing for God, it's a matter of will. Will is the predicate.
To make this point I'll give a (rather long) quote:
"In an allegorical story, it is said that once Lord Indra, became a pig in his dream and he miserably suffered from itch and other troublesome diseases. Other gods were deeply concerned at this condition of their king. They entered his dreaming state and reminded him, "How is it Sir! Have you forgotten the nymphs of the heaven? Do not you remember the taste of nectar? Have you no idea of your own golden throne studded with precious stones?" But Indra in his piggish tone said, 'No, no, no. Your nymphs, nectar and golden throne are no match to my she-pig, excreta and cushion like mud in the ditch. I enjoy greater pleasure in rolling in this mud than in sleeping in the bed of roses." 3