An Interview with God Page 3

  Paul draws upon his Old Testament knowledge. “Yeah, a burning bush, pillar of fire, giant cloud. Then there’s the booming voice, flood, plagues, parting the sea.” With a mild laugh, he adds, “And there was that whale incident. I bet You’ve seen a lot of people freak out over the centuries.”

  “Well, yes, certainly many did, many have, but those things you mention also got their full attention.”

  “No burning bushes today though?” Paul comes back.

  God pauses a moment, looking at his new young friend. “Is that what you really want Me to do? What would you like to see burst into flames? Something here in the park perhaps?”

  Realizing the reality of God’s words, Paul quickly regrets his flippant question. A bit embarrassed, he tries to move on. “Sorry. No, that’s okay. Won’t be necessary.”

  “Anyway, why create a distraction like that on such a beautiful day?” God offers in a playful manner. In a more serious tone, He continues, “I agree there’s no need for that sort of sign or proof. You’re here. I’m here. And we’re already talking. And, equally as important, listening too.” He raises his arms, gesturing at the beautiful summer surroundings of the park. “I chose this setting for you because I thought you might like it. Very beautiful. Very public. And, to use your own words, you don’t seem too ‘freaked out’ by Me speaking with you.”

  Paul manages a half smile. “No, so far, so good. So . . . getting back to my question, is that why You’re here? Am I a prophet? I mean now because of this conversation . . . this interview?”

  God is taken aback by Paul’s need to define what’s happening between them. “Let’s just say we’re talking. There’s a discussion. That’s where any relationship begins, right?”

  Paul suddenly feels a bit uncertain of where to go next, even though he thought he was sure only moments before. He nervously taps his pen on the table quickly, then continues, “Okay, we’ll circle back to that. So you’re God? The God . . . as in Almighty. The One who created everything, the heavens and the earth in six days?”

  God takes on a more serious look. “Yes, that’s right. And then I rested on the seventh. But if you’re familiar with the Torah, the Old Testament, as you seem to be, you also know that things didn’t stay that way for long . . . resting, peaceful, I mean.”

  Paul spreads out his arms, indicating everything around them. “Regardless, I have to say, nice work.”

  God beams back. “Thanks. I try.” But then He zeros in on the young man’s motives. “Is this really what you wanted to know, Paul? Just basic information about Me and creation? You know, I’m sure you can get the answers to what you’ve asked so far in a . . . Book . . . somewhere.”

  Feeling challenged, Paul takes on a stern, somewhat defensive bravado. “Well, sure, but you know, my readers are going to expect me to fact-check my work. After all, with the furor about what’s legitimate reporting and what’s fake news these days, especially with the nature of this interview, I have no choice but to cover my bases.”

  God quips, “Ah yes. Facts. Indisputable evidence. Of course. Then please continue.”

  Paul gathers his thoughts, checks over his notes, and presses on, “How old are You?”

  God, realizing Paul is going to stick with the bio line of questioning, knows He must qualify His answer. “Well, time is different for Me than it is for you. I exist outside time and space, this realm. I created it. Therefore, I can move in and out of both history and your reality. Like right now, for instance, I am here with you, but I’m not only here with you. Age is determined by some form of chronology, and I am not bound by such limitations.”

  Paul’s eyes widen a bit. He attempts to process that thought, then moves to his follow-up. “Okay, so where do You come from?”

  Taking a deep sigh, God pauses with the wise patience of a loving father to consider Paul’s position and maturity. “I think this interview will be far more productive and much more interesting if we don’t waste time on questions to which you really do already know the answers for yourself.”

  For a moment, Paul forgets to whom he is talking and shoots back, “I’m just asking questions. But you don’t have to answer.”

  “God is the answer. That’s not just some bumper sticker slogan or a religious catch-all phrase.”

  “Point taken,” Paul says, “but in the few minutes we’ve been talking, You could have just answered my original question . . . how old are you?”

  “I think I well covered that one.”

  Paul tries to mask his growing frustration, but it’s becoming quite obvious. “Okay, all right. Let’s just move on.”

  God feels compassion for the young man’s obvious struggle. “Paul, I’m not trying to be difficult or even evasive, but I think you of all people should know why My answers, though very truthful, might appear confusing. Why, if the nature of God was obvious . . . well, just look at the world, and you will see that not much seems to be clear these days.”

  A thought strikes Paul and he starts to write on his pad. “So while we struggle here on Earth to know You, I assume You know all the questions as well as all the answers, right?”

  God takes on a grateful he’s-starting-to-get-it look. “Of course! But does that make you uncomfortable?”

  Paul seems to be keeping up now. “Well, then You would know the answer to that question too, wouldn’t You?”

  “Yes, but a divine perspective is not required for such understanding. Try to see this from My point of view. This is certainly not an easy process.”

  Paul considers the new concept. “No, I get it. Knowing all the questions and all the answers has to make conversations with humans kind of difficult.”

  God smiles, seeing an opportunity to interject humor again. “Well, no one likes a know-it-all . . . do they?”

  “Right.” Understanding full well the irony of much of the interview so far, the journalist feels the need to rewind. “But I want to circle back to something. You just said, ‘I think you of all people should know why My answers might be confusing.’ What exactly did You mean by ‘me of all people’?”

  Feeling like they are finally starting to get somewhere, God explains, “You have a degree in religious studies and another in journalism from Loyola University, Paul, where you graduated at the top of your class. You started working at The Herald in their online division straight out of college, where you now write about the important matters of faith and theology for a mainstream audience. And all that before your twenty-eighth birthday! And to top it off, you also feel the need to communicate to the culture in which you live the value of connecting, engaging with, well . . . Me.”

  “So You memorized my online bio?” he asks, surprised by the quite specific and very personal answer.

  God ignores the obvious and takes Paul into the deep end. “I also know about your marriage.” The Almighty stops and waits for the young husband’s response to the game-changing statement.

  Paul hadn’t seen this coming, and the comment echoes in his head. After a moment to regain composure, he says the only thing he can come up with. “Excuse me?”

  “Your marriage, Paul. I know all about your marriage.”

  He misses the depth to which God is referring and simply holds up his left hand to show his wedding ring as if to say, Yeah, anyone can see I’m married. A bit smugly, he says, “You had me going there for a second.”

  God looks puzzled. “Sorry, what do you mean?”

  “My marriage. My ring. The omniscience thing. How you would even know I’m married? You got me.”

  God realizes the young man is missing the point but smiles and plays along. “Yes, I did, didn’t I?”

  Paul thinks he might have the upper hand here. “You’re waiting for me to ask, aren’t You?”

  “Ask what?”

  “For proof . . . proof that You are who You say You are.”

  God holds his gaze. “Tell me, Paul, each time you pray, do you first ask for proof that I’m listening to You before you open
up to Me about your life? Or do you just begin talking about what you need or want?”

  “Of course not . . . No, I don’t. I just pray.”

  “Okay, then. I’m right here. I showed up. Exactly when you requested. I’m answering your questions. I believe I have been very cooperative. And patient. And personal.”

  Paul relents, “Yes. Yes, You have.”

  “And most journalists would consider this the interview of a lifetime,” God interjects. “Don’t you agree? So why don’t you just ask what you’re thinking?”

  “Because this is an interview, not an interrogation. I think it would be rude and inappropriate. In this context, I ask the questions and You answer them. For example, I didn’t ask the soldiers I met in Afghanistan how they can shoot people when God . . . well, You . . . has a clear commandment about taking another’s life. Regardless of how anyone wants to interpret killing others in war, I’m fairly certain you still prefer we not.”

  God nods. “I do. While war does become unavoidable at times because of mankind’s choices, I always prefer life, which is why I gave the commandment in the first place.”

  Paul decides to open up his heart—a little—confessing, “And plus, I have faith. I’m a believer in You. And it would be hypocritical, or worse, to call myself a Christian and then deny the existence of the very things I believe.” He pauses to gather more thoughts. “But I’m also no one’s fool. You’re right. If belief in God were obvious, they wouldn’t call it faith. They’d call it—oh, I don’t know—stats or facts or something else.”

  God smiles, glad that Paul is now comfortable enough to say what’s on his mind.

  “So what do I tell the people who say You don’t exist?” the young man asks.

  God leans forward and clasps his hands in front of Him, then answers with compassion and strength, “Tell them that I understand. But the world they see . . . is just that. What they see. And all too often that’s exactly the problem . . . that’s only how life looks, how things appear to be. Not necessarily reality.”

  With a mix of fascination and surprise, Paul compliments, “That’s a really good answer.”

  “Why, thanks.” God sounds like a proud father. “I’m glad you understand. You conduct an excellent interview, Paul. You’ve established rapport and invited trust. You’re not at all condescending. And, the best part about you, you want the truth, above all.”

  Paul smiles. “Thanks. Yeah . . . and You’re right. The truth is what I’m looking for.”

  “That’s My specialty.”

  Paul reviews his notes and glances at his phone for the time and the recording status. “I do have more questions.”

  “More biographical queries or—”

  “No. We’re done with the bio. I think we’re ready to move on.”

  Ready to dig deeper, God leans in to listen.

  Paul habitually pushes his tuft of hair back and reads from his notepad. “Okay, time for the lightning round. So to speak, not literally.” He grins. “Here we go. In no particular order. First question. What is the meaning of life?”

  Without a moment’s hesitation, God answers, “To live in the struggle, love Me, love your neighbors, love yourself, and also ask questions like ‘What is the meaning of life?’”

  “Okay, makes sense. Next question. Is the Bible the Word of God? Your Word?”

  “Yes, of course. But as understood by man and translated by man.”

  “So there’s some wiggle room there?” Paul asks.

  God shakes his head. “No. Everyone is on their own journey, but there’s only one path.”

  “Question number three. Was there ever a time when You didn’t exist?”

  God flashes a smirk. “I think we’ve covered that, but I can give you the same answer I gave Moses, if you like?”

  Completely intrigued, Paul looks up and raises his eyebrows to indicate that God should indeed continue.

  With an added dramatic flair, He says, “I Am . . . that I Am!”

  “Right. I know that one. Exodus 3:14.”

  God continues, “Yes. And it’s just as true today as it was back in Moses’ time. That’s actually the timeless point of the statement.”

  Satisfied, Paul moves on. “Question four. Is there a Heaven?”

  “Oh yes, certainly, but don’t limit it as merely a place like you think of your physical home with walls, boundary lines, and borders. There’s a far, far bigger picture to grasp.”

  Paul nods. “Wow. Cool. Okay. . . . Moving along, question five. If Heaven is real, then is Satan also real?”

  “Yes, but frankly he’s overrated.”

  “Overrated?” Paul is a little surprised by the answer. “That’s an odd description. How do you mean?”

  “Well, Satan only has power to the extent that you allow him. He can’t force anyone into anything. He can only manipulate what he is given access to. He’s an accuser, not a creator.”

  Paul likes the explanation, as well as the rhythm they have found—direct questions with concise, understandable answers. No wasted words. “Question six. What happens to us after we die?”

  “You will pass into eternity.”

  “So my soul is immortal?”

  “Wouldn’t be much of a soul if it wasn’t, right?” God quips.

  “Question seven. Can an atheist be a moral person?”

  God chooses to offer an analogy. “Sure, because morality is a choice. Just as a relationship with Me is a choice. You can decide to build a home with a solid foundation, or no foundation, or a faulty foundation. And if you choose the latter two, you just better hope the ground beneath you never shakes.”

  “Ah, Matthew 7, the wise and foolish builders parable. Good. Understood . . . Question eight. Is God love? . . . Are You love?”

  God likes the personal touch. “To quote another Paul in his letter to the Corinthians, ‘Love doesn’t boast.’ But yes, absolutely.”

  Paul takes on a sly look, deciding to change direction, go off the trail, and test a bit. “What is two thousand four hundred and twenty-seven times six hundred forty-eight?”

  “One million, five hundred seventy-two thousand, six hundred and ninety-six,” God immediately fires back.

  Paul is quiet. Since he just made up those numbers on the fly, he has no clue if that answer is correct.

  God peers at him with a seriously? look on His face. “If you’d like to check Me on your phone calculator, I’ll wait.”

  Paul looks sheepish. “No, not necessary. I trust You. Sorry.”

  “I forgive you.” God grins at him. “But interesting twist to try and keep Me on My toes.” Before the reporter can move on, He adds, “Paul, you’ve asked a lot of good questions here today, but you haven’t asked Me the one I hear almost more than any other—always in the top three, for sure.”

  Paul looks over his notes and gives up. “Okay, what’s the question?”

  God leans back. “Come on, Paul. You’re an investigative reporter. Take an educated guess. I know for a fact you’ve wondered it yourself countless times.”

  Paul settles back in his seat as well, thinks hard for a moment, then offers his best try. “Um, I’m going to go with ‘Why do bad things happen to good people?’”

  “Nice! That’s the one.”

  Paul shakes his head. “No, I didn’t have that one on my list. And to be bluntly honest, I don’t like that question very much at all.”

  “Oh no? Why not?”

  “Because it’s not really a question.” The young man grows more intense than he has been the entire interview. “It’s a complaint. What everyone who asks that question is actually communicating is, ‘Why do bad things happen to me?’ or ‘to the people I love?’ And then the person asking always assumes that he or she is a ‘good’ person. That all just seems so arrogant to me. While we often think it to be justice when bad things happen to bad people, we never include ourselves on the ‘bad person’ list.” Paul pauses. “All right, moving on now.”

  But God is
not yet ready to change the subject. “You know, Paul, bad things do happen to some very good people. And to the other side of that question, good things happen to evil folks as well. To quote, ‘He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.’”

  Paul stares at God, his mood obviously darkening.

  “I know it’s a huge question, and I’ll answer it for you if you want Me to.”

  Paul slowly scans his eyes upward, then shakes his head. “I’m good for now. Let’s just move on.”

  God looks into Paul’s heart, hoping he’ll relent and deal with the struggle at hand. The young man just can’t seem to face it—or won’t.

  Paul clears his throat, staring hard at his notes as if second-guessing himself. “Question nine. Do dinosaur fossils and quantum mechanics contradict Scripture?”

  A bit amused by the strange twist in direction, God settles back in His chair again, deciding to accommodate Paul no matter the question. “I’m glad you asked, because modern science is truly an amazing thing. Look how far humans have advanced in all manner of technology. You should all be proud of the things you’ve learned. But just because certain truths from the animal kingdom all the way down to electrons are not mentioned in the Bible is not an indication there’s a credibility issue. Allow me to explain.

  “The owner’s manual that came with your bike didn’t cover the physics of forward motion or the molecular structure of the invisible air in the tires, but that doesn’t make you doubt, distrust, or degrade the manufacturer, does it? Or keep you from riding the bike, for that matter? Most people don’t understand how their smartphone performs all the functions it does, but that doesn’t stop them from using one every waking hour of the day and night, right?”

  “Since there was not a yes or no in there, the answer must be . . .” Paul makes a flourish with his hand at the trail-off of his question to accentuate his sarcasm.

  God continues, “There are many things that exist in the universe that are not mentioned in the Bible. But answer this: Do the countless discoveries scientists have made make My universe seem less impressive or more impressive?” He offers a slight smile and waits, indicating to Paul that He did not intend a rhetorical question.