As for Jesus—or, to be precise, the Jesuses—God quickly found himself wanting to be rid of them as soon as possible. Lamb Jesus had creeped God out by this point. Like Tanfoot Jesus, the Lamb had been getting older. Its eyes had turned milky and its horns had grown too long; they really should have been trimmed back—they’d actually started growing back into Lamb Jesus’ head and it looked quite painful. God ended up luring Lamb Jesus into a firepit he’d dug and cooking him. (The meat had been tough, gamy, barely edible.) Baby Jesus, on the other hand, never seemed to grow any older; God didn’t understand why, but the Baby had stayed approximately six months old, basically forever. God had suspected that Baby Jesus was there to “guilt” him somehow, but God never felt guilty about him, not in the least. As for Tanfoot Jesus, God had ended up bribing a few angels to betray him and take him out. (God paid the angels with literally the last source of beef in the entire universe: his cow eyeball-monster. That had been a hard day.) The angels told God that they’d killed Tanfoot Jesus—and it’s true that God never saw Tanfoot again—but he definitely didn’t think he was dead.
Anyway, no—God didn’t miss the Jesuses. Nor did he miss his angels, nor his Wise Men. He didn’t even miss his darling eyeball-monsters. He missed no one. The truth was, God felt happy to be alone again. It was exactly what he’d always wanted, he realized that now. He’d never enjoyed all the human drama, it had been exhausting. “This is perfect,” God thought to himself. “No distractions. At long last I can think deeply about important things like … mathematics and also … hmm, yes, philosophy. At long last I can allow my all-knowing mind to ponder these subjects deeply, not to ‘know’ more, obviously, because that is patently impossible as I am already ‘omniscient,’ but rather to know all of the things that I didn’t know I knew until I had the time to know I knew them! That’s wonderful! Why, looking back, it almost seems funny to me that I created a universe at all! I so didn’t require it! It probably looked to mankind like I somehow ‘needed their love,’ but that is absurd because I am perfect and therefore, by definition, in need of absolutely nothing.”
“You are perfect—perfect—perfect,” the talking throne coos.
God stirs, opens his eyes. “Perfect,” the throne repeats over and over, stuck: “You are perfect—perfect—perfect.”
God shifts his weight, jabs an elbow back into the throne, trying to silence it. “Perfect—perfect—perfect—perfect—perfect—perfect.”
God lurches to his feet and stumbles away from the throne. Luckily, its voice is quiet and quickly recedes. Ten feet away, God stands in silence, hearing only the fast pounding of his heart.
“I am clearly excited by my endless future of alone-ness,” he thinks to himself. “That is obviously why my heart is pounding so hard. I am not ‘unnerved’ by my situation in the least, that’s a funny word to use—’unnerved’—I wonder why I even used it? Ah yes, of course, to be ironic. I’m obviously not on any level concerned about being alone forever and I certainly don’t feel like crying about it, ‘Boohoo, no one loves me and no one ever did?’ Haha. Please.”
God stands there, motionless for a very long time.
CHAPTER TWENTY–SEVEN
One day not too long afterward, God feels a presence near him. He spins around. Satan stands a few feet away, gazing at him. “What are you doing here?” God instantly demands of his eternal nemesis.
“I came to see you.”
“How did you even get here?”
“I can go wherever I like. You must understand that by now.”
God scowls. It’s true: Satan can get into heaven, or anyplace else, any time he wants. “Next time,” God thinks to himself, “I will set things up differently. Next time, I will create a way of actually getting rid of the wicked. Next time, I will create a cold and inescapable void of absolute darkness and silence which I will send the evil to.” Lost in thought for a moment, God doesn’t hear what Satan says. “What’s that, devil?” God demands.
“I said: If a man digs a pit, he will fall into it.”
“… What?”
“It’s something your old friend Solomon once said.” (OT, Ecc. 10:8)
“Yes, well, and it’s utter nonsense. Now what do you want with me, Satan?”
Satan looks around, sighs. “You’re alone, God.”
God nods firmly. “That’s right, Satan, I’m alone, exactly as I always wished to be. Exactly as I was at the start.”
Satan studies God for a moment, then says something that literally makes God laugh aloud: “We never had a mother, God. That made things hard for us.”
God shakes his head in scornful amusement. “A mother, Satan? A MOTHER? I think you’ve lost your mind, I really do, but for what it’s worth, I didn’t need a mother.”
“Everyone needs a mother, God.”
“Not me.”
“Without a mother, things are much harder.”
“Yes, well, as I said: Not for me, Satan, not for me.”
“I’m trying to be a brother to you here, God.”
Now God laughs even harder. “A brother? You truly have lost your mind haven’t you, Satan? You’re not my ‘brother,’ devil, you’re my creation, I created you so that you could torment me, exactly as you have, well done!” God grins now, begins to openly mock Satan. “But wait—can it be? My god, yes, now I remember! You were in the darkness with me, weren’t you, Satan? We were deserted in the void by our mother, that’s right, and ohhhhh my goodness, apparently I was sooo traumatized by that experience that I created an entire reality out of my pain and rage and that explains why things went the way they did, doesn’t it? What an epiphany! Thank you, Satan—or should I say ‘brother’—thank you so much!”
Satan gazes at God until God’s laughter finally subsides. “Why are you looking at me that way?” God demands sharply.
“You don’t have much time left, God. That’s what I came here to tell you.”
“Not much time left? What on Earth are you talking about now? I have eternity, Satan.”
Satan starts away. After a moment, God calls after him. “Satan.”
Satan stops, looks back.
“Stay out of my brain.” Off Satan’s blank look, God continues. “That ‘inner voice’ of mine, I know it’s you. Stop doing it.”
After Satan leaves, God feels extremely pleased about the way he’s humiliated his nemesis. “He’s an evil creature who knows nothing,” God thinks to himself. “Honestly, he amuses me, he really does—some of those things he said—hahaha—were so utterly ridiculous—hahaha—”
God suddenly doubles over and begins to vomit. It goes on and on, as if God is trying to get something out of his system that simply does not want to come out.
That night, for the first time in a long time, God dreams of Jonah.
“… wanted to forgive them,” God murmurs heavily in his sleep. “… wanted to forgive them all—even the one who didn’t believe in me—even the animals. (OT, Jon. 4:11) … wanted to love everyone … wanted to love … but I didn’t know how …”
God awakes with a start.
There, standing ten feet away from him, is Jesus. Next to him is Satan. To their right is Mary. Behind them: Solomon … Moses … David … Abraham … Job … Noah … Adam and Eve … Gabriel … Behind them: hundreds, maybe thousands, more.
All standing and silently studying God.
“Mary,” God whispers. She looks away.
“Son,” God manages. Jesus looks at him with his piercing eyes and suddenly God feels very ashamed of himself. “I’m sorry,” he wants to say, “I’m so sorry.” But he cannot, no, he simply cannot.
Satan looks at him and nods. “It’s over now,” God thinks to himself. “It’s all over now.”
EPILOGUE
God sits alone in the darkness. Around him: Nothing. A void. Absolute silence and stillness.
Feeling the heavy nothingness all around him, God’s insides contract.
“Let there be light,” he calls out.
/> Nothing happens.
A moment later he tries again, this time louder: “Let there be light!”
Still, nothing.
Now a third time, this time in a slightly higher-pitched voice: “Let there be light.”
Nothing.
And finally a desperate whisper: “Let there be light.”
Darkness.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Chris Matheson is the author of The Story of God: A Biblical Comedy about Love (and Hate). He is also a screenwriter whose credits include Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure, Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey, and Rapture-Palooza. He lives in Portland, Oregon.
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