God on a Harley

by Joan Brady

Okay, now I was annoyed, not to mention slightly intimidated. Of course, the annoyance is what I chose to display. “Look, ‘Joe,’ ” I said in a very sarcastic tone, “I don’t really care how you got here. I was just making pleasant conversation, that’s all. I really don’t need this ‘Mr. Mystery’ act you’re giving me.” I turned dramatically on my bare heel and stomped back through the sand toward the safety of the boardwalk.

  His voice wafted through the sticky night air again, sweetly and ever so softly, and his words landed on my heart as much as on my ears.

  “Still a frightened little girl who has to show the whole world how tough she is, aren’t you, Christine? Still afraid someone might see through to the little cream puff inside.”

  I wanted to think I heard sarcasm or hostility in those words, but there was nothing but truth in them, and that truth penetrated my heart and momentarily turned me into a quivering jellyfish. I stopped in my tracks but kept my back to him. Who was this guy?

  “Come out of the shadows,” he invited softly. “You’ve already spent far too much time hiding in shadows.”

  I had this overwhelming urge to cry. How could anyone else possibly know what I thought only I knew, that I’d spent my life living far below my potential, afraid of stepping into the spotlight, afraid of truly blossoming? How could this man know all of this and why did he care?

  I quickly decided that no matter how much he might think he knew about me, he couldn’t possibly have a good motive. What man did? I glanced back at him one more time with every intention of walking away from him. Every horror story I’d ever heard of women being attacked in the dark of night, flashed through my mind, and every ounce of good sense I had told me to run far and fast. Yet something in my heart was drawn to him, and my feet began walking toward him without permission from my brain.

  “That’s better,” he said, grinning.

  “I don’t understand,” I murmured through a tightened throat and eyes brimming with tears. “Who are you and how do you know so much about me?” I hated the pleading tone I heard in my voice.

  “You’ll understand everything eventually.” He smiled. “I’ll answer all of your questions, even the ones you don’t know enough to ask right now. Don’t be afraid. I’m only here to help you.”

  His voice had me mesmerized, but something within me hated that I believed him. I knew I still needed to put on a show of toughness. “What makes you think I need any help? How could you, or anyone else for that matter, possibly know what I need?” I didn’t like his superior attitude.

  “Sorry about the superior attitude,” he said, smiling a bit sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to come off that way. You see, the point is that nobody else could possibly give you the kind of help or teach you the kinds of lessons that I’m about to give to you. No one else would even guess how much you still have to learn. Your act is actually quite good.”

  That made me feel both a little better and a little worse. I was terribly confused but, surprisingly, not at all frightened. There was a gentleness and humility about this man that even a bitter and resentful cynic like me couldn’t help but sense. He had an air about him that made me feel safe. Something very deep inside of me knew that this man was not here to hurt me, that he wasn’t even remotely capable of it.

  He continued in his low and soothing voice. “You need to trust me, Christine. I know trust isn’t something that comes easily for you, and that’s no surprise considering all the near-fatal wounds your heart has sustained over the years. But if you don’t give me your trust, even a mustard seed’s worth, there’s not much I can do for you.”

  The biblical reference wasn’t lost on me, and I wondered if this guy was some kind of religious fanatic who thought he was God or something.

  He chuckled good-naturedly, almost as if I had said the words aloud, which I was certain I hadn’t. And then he told me things about my childhood that no one could possibly have known. He described in vivid detail the fear I’d had of Sister Mary Michael, my second-grade teacher in parochial school. He knew how hard I had prayed one night after losing my homework assignment that she would have a heart attack and die by morning. He described in frightening detail all the traumas of my rocky road through adolescence. He knew about the two times I’d experimented with drugs, and he knew that I now liked to relax with a glass of Chardonnay before going to bed at night. He spoke of all my old neurotic and destructive relationships with men and of the bitterness they had left in my aching heart. He knew about my love affair with Greg Anderson and how my heart had exploded into tiny pieces earlier tonight when I’d spotted the shiny gold wedding band.

  He knew every detail of my life, every character defect that I had, every prayer I’d ever uttered, and every one of my heart’s desires. When it seemed that finally he was through telling my life story, with details that even I had forgotten, I felt hot tears erupting from my eyes. I didn’t feel so tough anymore.

  “Who are you?” I asked again, in a mystified whisper.

  He said nothing at first as graceful hands emerged from his jeans pockets and wiped the tears ever so gently from my face. “I am the ‘God’ you’ve been running away from for all of these years.” He used his thumb to catch an unusually large tear that tried to slip down my face. “Some people really get turned off by that ‘God’ thing,” he said, smiling, “so they use words like ‘Higher Power’ or ‘Universal Force.’ You can take your pick of what you want to call me. You can even make up your own name if that’s what you’d like. Whatever you’re most comfortable with.”

  “I thought your name was Joe,” I said through my tears.

  “I did. It is. At least that’s the name I’ve chosen for this trip to this place. I took it from the man most people think was my earthly father. You know, Joseph of Nazareth. I try to leave off the Nazareth part though. It tends to make people a bit suspicious.”

  “I’m terribly confused,” I whimpered. After all, I am a card-carrying atheist and I’d had too many old hurts and wounds and tragedies in my life to believe that there is any such thing as “God,” especially a kind and loving “God.” I knew better.

  “It’s okay,” Joe said soothingly as he placed his forefinger in the little hollow above my upper lip. “Your reaction is only natural, but you’ll get used to all of this. After all, you’ve been running in the opposite direction for a lot of years.”

  “Why do you keep saying that?” I insisted. “If you really are some kind of Mystical Being or Universal Force, you’d know that I’ve been praying to you for a long time. And that you haven’t been listening,” I couldn’t help but add.

  “Then how did I know about everything I just described to you? Especially all the prayers I just told you about?”

  I stared mutely into his peaceful and lovely face. “You’ve got a lot to answer for,” I said.

  He smiled patiently and nodded. “We all do. We’re all always evolving, getting better and getting closer to the real truths. Even me,” he admitted.

  “Even you?” I didn’t get it. How could this supposed “God” person, or Mystical Being, or whatever he was, still be seeking answers and higher truths?

  “I know what you’re thinking,” he said, “but no one is perfect. Perfection is just an illusion, a way of making you aim higher.”

  “You can read my mind, can’t you?” I said.

  “I prefer to say I can hear what you are thinking.”

  “Well, now hear this,” I began with a little of the old spark of defiance back in my voice. “I want to know why you let so many of my prayers go unanswered. I want to know why you made life so hard for so many people, you know, starvation and disease and things like that. And furthermore, why did you lay down a bunch of rules that no one could possibly follow one hundred per cent of the time and then sell us a load of guilt when we broke those rules?” I was on a roll. I couldn’t stop.

  “You’re referring to the Ten Commandments, I assume,” he said with a pained expression on his lovely face. I couldn�
��t help but notice that this man had the kind of good looks that sneak up on you. I really hadn’t noticed them at first, but the more he talked, the more handsome he became.

  “You bet your ass I am!” I’d been wanting to use profanity in front of God for a long time now, and it was worth the wait. It was immensely satisfying. Encouraged by his lack of rebuttal, I went on. “Those commandments were pretty rigid, you know. You left no room for being human or for extenuating circumstances. You know, times when a person has to at least bend the rules.”

  That said, I felt much, much better, even if I wasn’t going to get any answers. The questions had been burning inside of me for a long time, and just the opportunity to vent them was almost enough.

  Joe stared out into the night sky, both hands jammed deep into the pockets of his jeans. “This is gonna be a little more involved than I thought,” he said.

  Neither of us spoke for a few moments. I was thinking about how he didn’t seem to feel a need to answer any of my questions or to defend himself against the heartfelt accusations I’d hurled at him. Then a funny thing happened. The ocean waves stopped rolling up to the shore and the people on the boardwalk became silent and immobilized. Someone turned up the brightness knob on the moon, and Joe and I were bathed in a spotlight of moonglow.

  For the first time during our encounter, I was truly frightened. “I don’t understand what’s happening,” I said, leaning closer into Joe and his Harley.

  “It’s simple,” he said. “I’m getting you ready to live. I mean really live. Meaningfully.” He turned his architecturally perfect face to the moon and continued almost absently. “You’re right about the Ten Commandments. I was still new at this Universal Force business when I came up with that idea. I didn’t realize I was being a little inflexible. Honestly, I just didn’t understand then that one set of commandments can’t possibly serve as a guide to everyone. We’re all at different levels of our own development and evolution. What works for one person, certainly doesn’t have to work for everyone else. I didn’t know that then.”

  He turned to face me and I noticed that his eyes had taken on the same dark, murky color as the moonlit ocean. If I had doubted him before, I knew for certain now that this man was undoubtedly connected with the universe.

  “That’s why I’ve come back,” he continued. “I want to reach everyone again and give each person their own customized set of commandments. You know, guidelines that will work for the individual, not the masses.”

  He placed his graceful, slender hands on my shoulders and locked eyes with me. “Right now it’s your turn, Christine. That’s what I’m doing here. I’m sorry it took so long to get to you, but I’m sure you understand the volume of work involved.”

  I stood there mutely, unable to respond to what I was hearing. I even began to wonder if someone had slipped something into my drink earlier and perhaps all of this was a hallucination.

  “It’s time now for you, Christine, to start a new life. I am the ‘God’ you’ve so desperately been searching for. I am the ‘God’ you sometimes think doesn’t exist. I am the ‘God’ you think judges and punishes you. But you don’t know me . . . and that’s mostly my fault. Perhaps I didn’t always make my presence known, but you must believe, Christine, that I am the God’ who watched you grow up and watched you become discouraged. I tried to help you many times, but instead of trusting me and accepting my help, you chose to become angry and defensive. I understand that, but I hope you understand that I never stopped loving you and I never deserted you.”

  The earth remained completely still and silent, as if waiting politely for my answer. But I wasn’t quite through chastising him. Talk was cheap. “So why now? Why did you stay away all those times when I really needed you? Why show up now? Now when I don’t care anymore. Now when I’m not in a crisis of any sort. Now when I’ve learned to live without you.” Then a terrible thought struck me. “Am I gonna die or something?”

  His face brightened with amusement when he answered me. “Hardly,” he said, grinning. “You’re finally going to live. I’m going to show you a peace you’ve never known before. A peace so beautiful and fulfilling, you’ll probably forget all about what your life has been like up until now.”

  “Good luck,” I said sarcastically. I noticed an almost imperceptible frown cross his expressive face, and I regretted the words immediately. In spite of my determination not to concern myself with men’s feelings anymore, I couldn’t bear to see him hurt. “Look, Joe,” I started again, “religion doesn’t work for me. I spent too much time in parochial school and in church to have any faith left.”

  He smiled patiently. “I know how you feel about religion, and I admit it’s probably my fault. That’s where I got a little off track all those years ago. But people messed it up too. They misinterpreted almost everything I said and then even waged wars over who was right. It all really got out of hand.” He looked at me solemnly. “That’s why I’m here. To try to straighten out the whole mess.”

  “That’s a pretty big job,” I said, noticing that the world continued to stand still and probably would remain so until he had finished what he had come here to say. It was really impressive, actually. There was nothing to distract me from our conversation. I didn’t have any idea how he’d done it, but it certainly was an effective communication tool. “Just how do you plan to accomplish all this?” I asked, completely taken with him.

  “On an individual level, of course,” he answered without hesitation. “Take you, for instance. I’m going to give you your own set of commandments to live by. Commandments that will make sense to you and that will lead you to the greatest peace you’ll ever know. I have a separate list for everyone. Some people need more and some need less. It all depends on how complicated they’ve made their lives.”

  I was glad to see the old enthusiasm back in his eyes. “How many do you have written up for me?” I wanted to know.

  “Six,” he answered, almost before I finished the question.

  “I guess I’m not as multifaceted as I thought,” I said, trying to make light of it all. “Don’t tell me you have them carved on two stone tablets and that I’m gonna have to climb a mountain to get them.”

  He didn’t get it. “Oh, no,” he said quite seriously. “It will be much harder than climbing any mountain. You see, I’m going to stay with you for a while. You know, hang around in your life till I’m convinced that you understand them. I’ll watch you practice them a few times, and then I’ll be on my way to the next person. That’s how it works.”

  His face was boyish and adorable, and I couldn’t bear to disappoint him. I was no longer doubtful about who he was. In spite of all my skepticism, there was only one person I could think of who could stop the waves in the ocean, brighten the moon, and immobilize the people on the boardwalk, and it wasn’t anyone from this planet. “So how long have you been at it so far?” I asked. “—giving people their own set of commandments, I mean.”

  “Apparently not long enough. The work has really piled up. But I’m always learning, always improving—trying to get more efficient at what I do.”

  “Are you efficient enough now that I don’t have to worry about you ignoring me again?” I asked earnestly.

  “Christine, I know it’s hard for you to comprehend, but it was you who walked away from me.” His face remained soft and kind, but his words were firm. “Suffice it to say that I have never and will never leave you, no matter what.”

  I tried to digest it all as I looked down at his motorcycle and at the worn white, high-top sneakers. “Why did you come to me on a Harley?” I had to know.

  “I had to get your attention,” he answered simply.

  “Why the T-shirt, the leather jacket, and the great body?”

  He smiled easily. “I needed a new image. People today don’t relate to the sandals and long hair anymore. They haven’t since the sixties.”

  “So, just to make sure I understand you correctly,” I began, “what you’re tel
ling me is that you are God, right?”

  He understood my wariness. Apparently he had seen it many times before. He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully so that my suspicious mind and hardened heart could comprehend. “I’m all that is good and kind and strong in the universe. I am the energy that makes seeds turn into flowers and flowers turn their lovely faces to the sun. Though I may be quiet and subtle, my presence is not to be underestimated. I am you and you are me. If you want to call me ‘God,’ that’s fine with me. If you’re more comfortable with a different name, that’s fine too.”

  “I’m definitely not comfortable with ‘God,’ ” I answered quickly. “I’ve spent a lot of time being angry and resentful of him.”

  “I know.”

  “I need a new image of him. One that doesn’t automatically get spelled with a capital letter.”

  “Here i am.”

  “How did you do that? Talk in small letters, I mean.”

  “Christine, your mind is capable of understanding so many wonderful things. Don’t squander that capacity by concentrating on old resentments and negative thoughts. There is so much good out there for you to learn. Trust me. Believe in me. We have a lot of work to do, but it won’t feel like work, I promise. It will feel quite wonderful.”

  I was still reticent. Though my brain was completely convinced, my heart wasn’t so quick to believe anything anymore. It had been disappointed and fractured and stomped on too many times for me to just naively trust anyone. Even someone who claimed to be, and certainly seemed to be, a Mystical Being. I still couldn’t say the word “God.” Of all the men who had let me down in my life, God had been the biggest offender. The biggest disappointment. I had never once felt that he had ever been on my side. No, even if this guy were God, I was still annoyed with him. I still had to make dumb, defensive jokes just to give my heart time to catch up with my brain. “Well, I’ve known a lot of guys who think they’re God, but you’re the first one who has me almost convinced,” I said, smirking, thirty-seven years of sarcasm dripping from my voice.