My Final Chat with God
…based upon a premonition…
Me: I died in the war. The one my nation lost.
God: Tell me more.
Me: I don’t quite know where to start.
God: Why not start at the end and work backwards from there?
Me: Oh! Kind of a Revelations thing.
God: I don’t know. I didn’t finish Revelations.
Me: Why?
God: Seemed a bit far-fetched to me. Now wait a minute. Who’s asking the questions here?
Me: You are.
God: So tell me what happened.
Me: The doorbell rang about two in the morning one morning. When I opened the door, somebody shot me.
God: For a person who just died – sounds like murdered – you seem pretty nonchalant about it. Why is that?
Me: Well, look, I lived well into my seventies. In the history of mankind, that’s quite old, isn’t it?
God: Yes. But not if you only consider recent history. If you consider recent life expectancy, you had another eight or ten years coming.
Me: Yeah, well. But I’d been doing some reflection and decided my life had been pretty good. Better than I deserved, in fact.
God: Still, isn’t there anything you regret? Something you’re going to miss?
Me: Well, as things were evolving – if I may use that word – not much.
God: You may. It was always a part of the plan.
Me: I will definitely miss my wife. I don’t know what she saw in me, but she was always there for me. Talk about your angels!
God: A good partner is priceless. From what Adam told me, Eve was a pretty good wife except for that apple thing.
Me: And my dog, Jethro.
God: The Biblical Jethro?
Me: No. The Harbor Seal Terrier, Jethro. He’s such a good boy. Warm. Loving. Forgiving. Funny.
God: Yes. For those very reasons, dogs are the one creation I’m proudest of.
Me: Out of so many wonderful things, you’re proudest about canines? Dogs? How would your children know?
God: That’s simple. Do this: Spell my name backward.
Me: D. O. G.
God: See?
Me: Yeah. Jethro was a good one.
God: People should be so righteous.
Me: Yeah. How’d you screw that up?
God: I sorta did, didn’t I? I’ve thought about that quite a bit. I think it might have something to do with giving them free will. Or the internet.
Me: You gave us the internet?
God: Hell no! I know very little about it.
Voice: You want something?
God: No, Beelzebub, no.
Voice: You sure? You just said “hell.” Kinda out of context.
God: Sorry. But Beezy? There is one thing.
Voice: Yes.
God: Could you turn down the heat a little.
Voice: Okay. But only a little.
God: A little would be fine.
Me: Was that…?
God: Yes. Beelzebub. Actually a pretty good guy. A little misunderstood.
Me: You seem pretty accepting of the Devil. What’s the word you just used? Nonchalant?
God: What choice to I have? He is my landlord.
Me: Your landlord? Why’s that? More important: why are you – I mean we – here? Why aren’t we in heaven?
God: That new-fangled internet.
Me: You said you don’t know about the internet.
God: No, I said I don’t know much about the internet. Just enough to get me in trouble. Like so many of you made in my image.
Me: Care to explain?
God: Well, you see, I was fiddling around with Stephen Hawking’s computer one day.
Me: He brought his computer with him?
God: No. He built another one.
Me: Built one? Outta what?
God: How would I know? He’s Hawking! Anyway, I was fiddling around with his computer and I ran across a sports gaming site.
Me: Sports gaming? You bet on an athletic contest?
God: Worse. An American football game.
Me: You made a wager on a football game? Isn’t that a sin?
God: Not that I’ve found in the Bible and I know that book pretty well. I was working on it myself until I got busy jobbed it out to a Roman bigwig named Constantine and his buddies.
Me: Busy? What could be more important than working on the Bible?
God: Gus Holtz needed some help composing “The Planets.” He asked me because he thought I had some experience in that area.
Me: So you took a flyer on a football game. But there’s no money in heaven. That’s part of what makes it heaven, right? What did you put up? Wait a minute…
God: What else did I have to put up?
Me: You lost heaven to an online sports bookie?
God: Serves me right for betting on the Saints.
Me: And now the Devil is getting his due…
God: Yes. That’s the way it appears.
Me: So we’re stuck here in H E double-toothpicks.
God: But unlike others here, as you just saw, I get to choose the temperature.
Me: Because?
God: Well, you know that people adage “Honor among thieves?”
Me: Yeah.
God: Well we live by an older one, a better one, I think: “Honor among deities.” When Constantine’s scribes were editing the Scriptures, they left that one out.
Me: I see. I guess.
God: Enough about me. But before you go on with your story, I’m afraid I’ve been a little bit insensitive. You are a weary traveler. Your journey has been long and hard. May I offer you something to drink. Perhaps some holy water or maybe some Kentucky bourbon?
Me: You wouldn’t happen to have Angel’s Envy, perchance.
God: Angel’s Envy it is.
Me: Wait! I almost forgot! Isn’t envy one of the Seven Deadly Sins?
God: Not in this case.
Voice: We’ve also got Devil’s Cut from that Jimmy What’s-His-Name.
God: Swill! My guest requested Angel’s Envy and that will be that…
[Pause: Drinks are poured.]
God: Now tell me about yourself. How’d you get the name David. Were you named after one of my Prophets?
Me: I don’t know. My mom called me David. I don’t think Dad got a vote after he named my older brother Beebo.
God: Beebo, huh? That sounds a hell of a lot like Beelzebub.
Voice: What now?
God: Nothing!
Me: I’m sure Beebo’s name was just Dad trying to be cute.
God: Not much cute about it. Like naming your kid Satan or Donald or something like that.
Me: Well, I don’t think I’m named after a Prophet or anyone in the Bible.
God: Have you read the Bible?
Me: Selected parts.
God: Hmmmph. Just like everyone else. Which ones?
Me: Oh the Beatitudes. You know, the “Blessed are the…” passages.
God: Oh! Not like everyone else…
Me: And the love your neighbor stuff. I particularly liked “Jesus Wept.” It’s the easiest to memorize.
God: And yet the Ten Commandments get all the press. Damn that Charlton Heston!
Me: You damned Charlton Heston?
God: Why, yes. I did. Cece DeMille, too. He was the director. They’re rooming together…
Me: You damned them because?
God: Once again, this interview isn’t about me. It’s about you. Did you attend church regularly?
Me: No. Not once I got a bit older and did a little figurin’ for myself.
God: Good for you.
Me: Good for me?
God: Sure. You must have been a good person or you wouldn’t be here.
Me: But we’re in hell.
God: Yes. But we’re in the cooler part of hell.
Voice: Can you two quit bugging me?
God: Hey, Beezy! We’re just havin’ a conversation here! Chill out.
Voice: I don’t do chill out.
Me: What about the people who attended regularly?
God: Oh! Many of them are consigned to the hotter regions.
Me: I don’t understand.
God: Well, in centuries of observation, I found that many people who’ve gone to church embraced my message of goodness and love. Others decided that going to church would make it appear as if they embraced messages of goodness and love. But, in watching ‘em, six days out of the week, their behavior said, “to hell with that.”
Voice: Yes. What now?
God: Nothing! Jesus!
Jesus [cameo]: Yes, Dad?
God: NOTHING!
God [to Me]: You see, more important than what one professes is what one actually does. That message didn’t seem to resonate, now did it. And, well, you’ve seen what happened.
Me: I’m here because of what happened.
God: Tell me more.
Me: Well, I said I answered the door and then somebody shot me.
God: Yes.
Me: As you might imagine, there’s a bit more to the story than that.
God: As I might…
Me: Let’s go back to when I was in high school.
God: Let’s do.
Me: Back then, they taught a course called Civics.
God: Civics?
Me: Yeah. Civics. Actually, they still do, but it is incorporated into something bigger called Social Studies.
God: Social Studies?
Me: Yeah. Social Studies. But the lessons and the concepts are still there. I think some of the big, really important ideas – the foundational ones – might be getting lost, what with all the other curriculum there is to teach these days.
God: What big lessons and concepts are you speaking of?
Me: Governance being derived from the people not from a king or, well, God. No offence.
God: None taken.
Me: That’s indeed a big one. Maybe the biggest. But there’s also freedom of speech and assembly and of dissemination of the news through something called the press.
God: I know of the press. Gutenberg’s a friend of mine. Printed the first batch of Good Books, as I recall. I think I still have a few copies. I’ve been told they’re collectable.
Me: Freedom of the press, freedom of speech: the idea that people can say pretty much what they want and not get in trouble.
God: Pretty much?
Me: Yeah. For example, you can’t yell “Movie!” in a crowded firehouse, but other than that…
God: Steve Martin, right?
Me: You know him?
God: I know everybody. The quick. The dead. Everybody.
Me: And, in Civics Class it was hammered home that with rights come responsibilities. Like being honest. Being fair. Caring for others. Not being afraid to make your voice heard…
God: Sounds sorta religious.
Me: Yes. But it wasn’t supposed to be. One of those freedoms was to be allowed to believe whatever you wanted, churchy-wise, and the government couldn’t force somebody else’s beliefs on you.
God: The Ayatollahs didn’t quite grasp that, did they? Neither did some of the early Popes.
Me: Nor some of our latter day leaders. I blame the Pat Robertsons and the Joel Osteens of the world.
God: That’s a good start. But there have been many false prophets over time. You know, Adolph Hitler was one of ‘em. And that Jim Jones fella.
Me: I’ve read about a lot of despots. History is full of ‘em. Reminds me of one thing my Civics teacher really emphasized: “Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.”
God: Truer words would be hard to find.
Me: Hang on a second! You’ve got power. You’ve got the power. But you’re not corrupted, are you?
God: I’d like to think not. I’d like you to trust me.
Me: Trust?
God: Yes. Trust. Trust used to be the proverbial coin of the realm. My whole ministry – the entire universe, for that matter – is based upon trust. Trust and love.
Me: Trust and love. In Proverbs?
God: Trust and love in everything, along with a little science.
Me: Trust and love.
God: Be not afraid, David. I gave you free will here, so you’re kind of on your own as to whether you want to continue with your… your… account. But I would like you to trust me. In fact, I’d be honored.
Me: Honored?... Whew!... Well, okay! Where was I?
God: Freedoms. Something about losing them. Charlatans and despots…
Me: Oh, yes. You see it came to pass that more than a few politicians, with the help of some unfettered blather-mouths on the radio, convinced folks about something called “the right.” They said the right had God on their side with all your power and all your glory and all your forever and ever stuff. Therefore, they said, true believers needed to vote for whoever they told ‘em to. Then they sweetened the pot by adding something about a path to heaven.
God: Heaven? The fools! That of which they know so little…
Me: How do you mean?
God: Well, to start with, here you and me are sitting in H E double-toothpicks, as you refer to it, having a conversation.
Me: But that’s just a recent occurrence, isn’t it?
God: Yes, but using heaven as a marketing tool is about as blasphemous as putting a giant example of your national flag over a used chariot lot to encourage patronage.
Me: Car lot. Not chariot lot. Used car lot.
God: Whatever…
Me: I get the picture. I mean, it turns out I became part of the picture. As the political landscape moved further and further away from the tenets that were foundational to my country, I got a wild hare and decided to actually write down my thoughts and criticisms and send them to the folks in charge.
God: Sermon on the Mount stuff! That sounds like a good idea.
Me: “It sounded like a good idea at the time but wait until I tell you.” O. Henry.
God: “Ransom of Red Chief.” You know, Hank’s another friend of mine. Such a grand talent for using irony to expose truths.
Me: Yeah, well, the truth ain’t exactly what it used to be. Although irony might. See, I made the mistake of not only writing missives to the corrupt and the powerful but by broadcasting my thoughts and grievances to the masses on the internet using its spawn Social Media.
God: Tell me more about is this internet and social media thing. Clearly, I only know enough to get me in trouble on the damned thing.
Me: I thought you knew all.
God: Perhaps you weren’t listening to my little gaming experience.
Me: Oh, I was paying attention. But I learned early on that, when it comes to finances and personal stuff, it’s pretty easy to lose your ass monkeying around on the internet.
God: Not your ox and your ass? Just your ass?
Me: Well, you sorta proved you could lose more than just your ass.
God: Oh, yes. Money being the root of all evil.
Me: If I may correct: The love of money...
God: Aha! You do have command of the Scripture.
Me: I wouldn’t be so bold as to say “a command.” I have read a few things. Forgotten many more, I’m certain.
God: Better than simply ignoring what you’ve read. Or being told by someone else what’s in there. But we’ve digressed. What was the big point of this social media thing? What’s the great thing it was supposed to do. American football, I’ve found, isn’t it.
Me: Well, God, the social media was supposed to enable people to say things to one another without actually being together in the same room.
God: Enhanced communication!
Me: Not exactly. As it turns out, it’s mainly just people saying things. Talking past one another. Communication implies listening. Looking someone in the eye. Like we’re doing right now. That doesn’t seem to happen on social media.
God: That may be true, but it seems more efficient than, I don’t know, carving things in stone like we used to do.
Me: Yes, but things carved in stone seem to be remembered.
God: Like the Ten Commandments? Big deal. Nobody seems to follow them anymore. I see that even K-Mart is open on Sunday.
Me: K-Mart died a while ago.
God: Hmmm… Perhaps K-Mart should have stayed closed on the Sabbath. Anyway, looking back on them, some of my commandments seem a little self-serving. Like that no other Gods one. And now, here I am living in Beelzebub’s basement.
Voice: And your rent’s due first of the month!
Me: Still, I’m thinking you put a lot of thought into them.
God: I did.
Me: Well, as your children have advanced, it feels as if we moved beyond putting much thought into things.
God: Moving beyond thought?
Me: Yep. Right into action.
God: Why do you suppose that is?
Me: I don’t know. Expediency, maybe. Thought – remembering history, knowing the mistakes of others, understanding consequences – all of that takes time and time is something the people don’t have time for. Too expensive. Not able to be monetized.
God: Monetized?
Me: Think moneychangers. Made money from. Your son might agree, I’d opine.
God: Opine. That’s such a good word.
Me: Perhaps. But perhaps not such a safe practice. By putting my opinions to the large-and-in-charge out there for others to see, apparently, I pissed off some of his followers, his believers.
God: What is this urinated off?
Me: No. Pissed off. Pissed off. Made them angry.
God: So many of the words my children use seem to have no connection to what those words mean…
Me: My thinking was that folks whining about one thing and another to each other was a waste of time. Better we bring our concerns to the people in charge. And by writing a letter to ‘em, someone was going to have to open the envelope and someone was going to have to read the thoughts be they praises or concerns. Maybe I could model something others might decide to do as well.
God: Speaking truth to power. You know, my kid tried that.
Me: It seems my fate was sealed when some bastard named Donald…
God: Donald? Synonymous with Satan, Donald?
Me: Apparently. …somehow ingratiated himself into the body politic and was risen…
God: Risen?
Me: Risen indeed! …to the ultimate leadership position in my country.
God: And…
Me: Well, by using social media and claiming to be one of your children, one of your followers, claiming to be chosen by you…
God: My goodness! Social media sounds like the internet’s evil spawn. Who could have created such a thing?
Voice: Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha.
God: Beezy! Shush!
Voice: Say please…
God: Please.
Me: Anyway, he set to tearing things down. Bringing chaos and disorder. Destroying institutions. Dictators do that, you know. In fact, some of us started referring to this guy as Donald the Dictator. Or just Don the Dick.
God: Now, now, David. Name calling rarely works to the benefit of anyone. Constantine should have seen that that was included. He didn’t like his subjects calling him names, as I recall.
Me: Yeah, well, Donald the Dictator banished folks who were broken and less fortunate. Or simply looked different. He turned his back on those yearning to breathe free. He even took action that will ultimately destroy your garden because it would enrich him and his pals. Money changers in the temple, indeed! And he co-opted social media to tell people over and over and over and over…
God: I get it. A lot.
Me: …that this was righteous and it was okay. And he wasn’t going to take any shit from anybody about it.
God: Shit? You mean excrement?
Me: No. Shit.
God: No shit?
Me: No shit.
God: Your continual reference to bodily functions is a bit confusing but go on. Is there more?
Me: Yes. You see his rise to power was his second rise to power. Sound familiar?
God: Just tell the story.
Me: The first go round he was learning the ropes. The second time he began using those ropes to hang folks. That is, those he didn’t free.
God: So he freed people! Good for him!
Me: Not so fast. The people he freed were wicked criminals – Sodom and Gomorrah wickedness – but contemporary with technology thrown in. Social media made things so much worse.
God: So much worse?
Me: Yes. At one point, we the people voted Don the Dick out. But he used the internet to churn up a bunch of people, convinced ‘em to storm the seat of our government claiming the election was stolen. His believers, a really gullible lot, laid waste to the capitol, killed many sworn to protect our freedoms. But they were ultimately arrested, charged and convicted of crimes. Some of seditious conspiracy! You know what that is?
God: Of course I do. My kid was charged with it a couple of thousand years back.
Me: Indeed he was.
God: [sighs]
Me: But Don the Dick was somehow returned to power and immediately freed those malcontents and convicted insurrectionists. Referred to them as hostages. Said they were really patriots. Then, essentially, he called them to arms, invoking your name.
God: Holy shit!
Me: Quoting thyself: “Truer words would be hard to find.”
God: I should smite the internet and social media. In fact, I think I will!
Voice: Too late. That ship’s already sailed. That Genie is already out of the bottle. That’s a bell you just can’t unring, I don’t care who you are! Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha.
God: All right! All right! [sigh] So what happened to you?
Me: Well, there was that late night knock on the door. Jethro alerted me. When I opened up, Jethro squirted out barking, saying “Hi! Hi! Hi!” like he always did with people, and waggling his tail. The bastard kicked Jethro with his heavy boot, knocking him against the wall.
God: Bastard indeed! Thou shalt not kick a dog!
Me: That pissed me off. I tried to push by the man, but in his heavy jacket – maybe armored – I couldn’t budge him. It broke my heart to see Jethro lying there whimpering and gasping… He was such a good boy.
God: There, there. You know we have a special place in heaven for dogs. And Aloysius tells me it’s still there.
Me: Aloysius? The Biblical Aloysius?
God: No. Aloysius, the escrow gentleman holding my deed.
Me: Anyway, I asked this thug what he wanted and he asked me if I was David. I said who wants to know and he said none of my business and then he asked me some things specific enough that I knew he’d read some of my letters to the Donald the Dictator and some of his minions. I said I have a right to say what I want and he said, “Not anymore.”
God: Oh for God’s sake!
Me: Wait! Aren’t you God?
God: Yes! Yes! It’s just an expression! Go on!
Me: In that instant after he said, “Not anymore,” I saw the flash, but I didn’t hear the report. All I remember thinking was, “This should hurt more.” But then that seemed real selfish… Still does… I should have been more concerned about my wife… I hope the bastard didn’t hurt her.
God: Well, I’m not sure if this is much consolation, but she’s okay. I checked when I saw you were coming. Your country however...
Me: Oh, I knew that was going to happen. My country, with its great experiment in self-governance, died before I did. It died the day the Donald the Dictator was returned to office; the day he loosed all the seditionists like the Witch of the West’s flying monkeys.
God: Ah! Frankie Baum. I know him. He’s a wizard at telling stories...
Me: So you do know everybody. Just like you said.
God: I do indeed.
Me: And you know Donald the Dictator.
God: Of course I do. He just doesn’t know me.
Me: And I suspect he never will.
God: No. He never will.
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Church of the Open Road Press
