(continued from previous post)

“Well, to tell you the truth, I don’t feel satisfied. I’m almost embarrassed to be a human.”

“I don’t blame you. Having never been human, I really don’t know how to help you. I can’t imagine how you must feel to be so flawed. Wait! Here comes one of my sons – he was human once, maybe he can help.”

A man in his mid-thirties was approaching. He looked quite gaunt, especially in the oversized bathrobe and fuzzy slippers he was sporting. He carried a coffee cup in one hand and was scratching his beard with the other. “Hi, Pop!” he said. “What’s going on?”

“I was just discussing human nature with this creature here. She’s getting quite depressed, though, and I thought maybe you could help her.”

“I’ll try. What’s your name?”

She stared at him, her mouth hanging open. “Um, a…”

“Hi, Uma. I’m …”

She recovered. “I know who you are. So you really were the son of God?”

“Not ‘the‘, ‘a‘. There’s a difference.”

“You mean that there’s more of you?”

“Of course! Christ, you don’t believe all of that bullshit from Paul, do you?”

“Well, no. But I thought that you did.”

He blew through his mustache, making a motor-boat sound. “No way. That was all Paul’s doing. I had a simple message, he took it and twisted it for his own purposes.”

At this point, God interrupted. “Well, I’ve heard this story before…” he said to no one in particular. Then, to His son he said: “Lock up when you’re done, eh?”

“Okay.”

“Oh, and toss this one into hell before you leave.”

Her hand came to her mouth and she involuntarily took a step or two back.

And God said: “Just kidding! Hah, you’re so gullible! That’s what I like about you humans!”

His son was laughing. “He’s such a kidder!” She suddenly found herself at the summit of a medium-sized hill; God was gone, only the son remained.

She spun around, walked one way, then another. “This is too much…am I dreaming?”

“How the hell should I know?” he said, taking a sip of coffee. “And if I did know, would you believe me if I told you?”

“I don’t know what to believe…”

The son took on an oratorical voice. “He that believeth me shall never perish.”

“Isn’t that: he that believeth in me shall never perish?”

“Nope; it got messed up in the translation. Damned oral traditions!”

“So it’s okay that I didn’t believe in you?”

“Sure – no skin off my back. Well, there was, but I’d rather not talk about it…Anyway, I never wanted people to believe in me, I just wanted people to believe me.”

“What’s the difference?”

“People who believe in me are missing the point; I was the finger pointing to the moon, not the moon itself. Too many people concentrated on the messenger and not on the message.”

“And what was the message?”

“How much plainer could I have been? ‘The kingdom of God is within you!’ I said. ‘Be one with God as I am one with God’ I said. But did anyone listen? No.”

“But what does that mean?”

“Each of God’s creatures participates in the divine; you – we – are all part of God. The eye with which I see God is the eye with which He sees me.”

“I’m God?”

“Don’t let it go to your head – but, yes.”

“And so are you?”

“Exactly!”

“And my mother-in-law?”

He hesitated, then answered: “Well…, yeah.”

The woman shuddered. “Not my idea of God, that’s for sure…”

“That’s because you want to make God in your own image.”

“Isn’t that backwards?” she asked.

“Right. That’s your problem. You want to make God into what you think God should be, rather than recognizing the reality of God.”

“That guy we just left…”

“That ‘guy we just left’ isn’t really a ‘guy’ at all. You saw him, it, in that guise because that is what you expected.”

Her eyes widened. “You think that’s what I expected God to be like?”

“Well, more or less. No one’s perfect,” he chuckled.

“Well then, what is He – it – really?”

The son paused for a moment. “It has no form, it has no color, it has no personality…”

A voice boomed from the sky: “I resent that!”

The son laughed. “Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain of fog! Anyway, God is beyond imagining.”

She shook her head. “There we go again with the ‘you poor limited humans’ argument again…”

“I said that God was beyond imagining; I didn’t say that God was beyond your imagining. Stop being so sensitive.”

“Sorry. But, if I am God, then how can God be beyond my imagining?”

“There is nothing in creation which understands its own nature. You don’t expect it of a slug, or even of your pet dog – why should you expect it of yourselves?”

“But we humans have the capacity of thought…”

He spat out his mouthful of coffee. “Oh, big deal. Big, bloody deal. So what? What do you think thought is?”

“I’ve already been down this road with your father…”

“Then you should know better.”

Coming soon, Part 5!

IMAGE SOURCE:
 commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:The_Sermon_on_the_Mount_-_William_Brassey_Hole.jpg
ATTRIBUTION:
 William Hole [Public domain]