5.22.2012

Helen Meager vs the State of Creation: part 3

Darrow and his team surveyed the large room that housed the Most Supreme Court.  The floor, such as it was, bowed slightly with its highest point just at the center of the oblong room.    Darrow mused that it was fortunate the the Turtle on whose back the walls had been placed was as big as he was. 

Helen Meager quietly took her seat on the left side of the court (of course).  Darrow’s team of younger souls with more recent courtroom experience were muttering about the sights they had beheld on the way to court.
“I don’t know. It’s all too perfect. Clean and mess free.”
“Sterile.”
“Like Disneyland.”
“ Yeah!  That’s it!  Just like Disneyland.  Nice but clearly fake."
"Everybody acts so friendly but in that robotic zombie way.  Gives me the creeps.” 
“Something that a child would enjoy if they weren’t too observant.”
“A lot of the people don’t seem too bright either.”

“Ok boys and girls, here come our adversaries.”

God had demonstrated a hint of whimsy by selecting none other than William Jennings Bryant to head the defense team.  The old foes meeting this way after all these years seemed appropriate.  Byrant had accepted without question.  This despite the fact that he knew nothing about the rules of order amongst those of the highest order.  He had left the details of the case to his many assistants.  After all, this case should never have been heard.  Just how far from Kansas he really was started to become very clear to him once he stepped through those imposing doors to the courtroom.

Bryant was immediately flummoxed by the selection of the judge.  That large turtle.  A very large turtle as it turned out.

Darrow, catching site of his old nemesis first,  surmised the source of his opponent’s frustrations and piped up. “The ultimate judges are always turtles in these cases.  Something to do with eastern religion or some such thing.”

“Turtles!?”

Yep, turtles.  Turtles serve in all the levels of the courts. It’s turtles all the way down...”

Darrow reached out his hand, “How are you Will?”

“I have been glorious. Simply glorious!  How have you been holding up?  I cannot of course imagine what you have been through.”

“Don’t be modest Will, I’m sure you have been gleefully imagining my fate from time to time.  No doubt reveling in having proven me wrong.”

“Well as it says in John 11:26, And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall...”

“Save that, will you.  I’m already in hell and this is my only time away so I’d prefer not to waste any of it on Scripture...”

Bryant, smugly self-assured as he ever was in life, pompously continued. “Well, Mr Darrow, are you sure you’re up to this?  After all you’ve missed out on a lot of deep and serious theological discourse in the past few years.”

“No matter.  I don’t care how many times you shake or squeeze a cow pie, it’ll never turn into a diamond - current company excepted of course (Darrow nodded in the direction of God’s throne) , so I doubt I’ve missed anything substantive.  Unless, of course, you guys have finally moved on from Aquinas and Augustine.  Rehashing the classics.  That’s sophisticated theology for you.   I see that they still have enough idiots around to keep our old debate alive despite the overwhelming body of evidence.“

“Now see here Darrow,”

BAAAAAAARRRRRUMMMMMPHF!

People toppled and papers scatted due to the intensity of that sound.  It came from one of the smaller Turtles.  A slight attention getter.  Gabriel’s trumpet would have sounded like a kazoo in comparison. 

“I call this session to order.”

God assumed his throne and Bryant knelt before him to ask permission to speak.  The permission was reluctantly granted for God knew how windy Bryant could be.   Bryant launched into his opening monolog and went on for hours.  At this rate it would be days before Darrow was able to make his opening.

But that didn’t really bother Darrow because he slept through the whole thing and even started to snore.

God stopped Bryant for a moment and turned to Darrow.  “Are we boring you Mr Darrow?"
“No more than when I was kid in Sunday School, Sir.  Bryant’s bit is just the wind up and the background.  Everybody knows this part and frankly it’s of no consequence to the question before the court.  but please, don’t mind me, continue.”

“The theological history of your world is unimportant to this proceeding?”

“Sir I will gladly stipulate that you are God, or at least close enough to make no difference, and therefore have the power to do whatever you want with us lowly creatures.  I will also stipulate as to the Bible obviously setting down what you expect of us based upon what we’ve all seen and experienced.”

“Then are we done?”

“Hardly Sir.  WE know what you expect of us.  The issue today is what we should reasonably be able to expect from YOU.”

“I am that I am.  I need not reveal myself to the likes of you.”

“But you do sir.  You already have.  The Bible sets down a lot of things it says about you.  How you are perfect.  How we are created in your image, yadda yadda.  If the Bible is true, then you have to be better than us.  No man nor any woman should be more kind, more empathetic, more merciful than you. That’s the whole point of it, no?  That we are pond scum and unworthy of anything good.  We are completely undeserving of your great LOVE for us.  Lowly imperfect beats that we are, we are nothing without you.  

But here’s the rub: there are men and women who would never have created hell. Particularly for the misdemeanors that get you cast into the pit.   To torment some poor soul forever?   For what?  Failing to keep the Sabath, cursing when you stub your toe?   That’s a theological crisis in the making.”

Bryant jumped to his feet and attempted to lecture his adversary, “Very naive of you, Mr Darrow.  I can point you to some deeper discussions in theology that address these far more complex issues.”

“Really?  Should it be that hard to understand?  This excuse about us all being naive when we point to glaringly obvious inconsistencies seems like misdirection.  I’ll gladly dive in deeper if you address my simpler concerns.  If the basic stuff is senseless why on earth would we bother to dive any deeper?  Please excuse my metaphor but, why should we waste the time of a Yankee’s pitcher when you can’t even hit a slow pitch softball.”

“I am not constrained by your level of understanding and concepts of perfection.”

“But you are.  You say so in your book.  We are created in your image, etc.  The book tells us what’s good and what’s not.  If you aren’t described by the ideals in this book (He held up a copy of the Bible in his left hand) then it’s all a lie.   All of this would be a lie.  And If it’s a lie, then your behavior is better described in this book of psychiatric diagnoses. (His right hand held a copy of the DSM V) which describes actions such as yours as those of a bully or abuser!” 

As they waited for the expected reaction one of the lessor turtles leaned to his comrade and whispered, “This guy must clank when he walks to say something like that.”

“Course that’s what we’ll talk about when Mr Bryant is done anesthetizing the gallery.  I can wait.”

Bryant tried to mouth words but no sound escaped.  He looked rather like a fish thrown on the deck.

God’s eyes actually relaxed a bit and he even showed a subtle smile.

“Ok hotshot.  Let’s cut to the chase.  Bryant!  Sit down.  It’s time for Mr Darrow to have his day in court.”

Satan was slack jawed watching all this on court TV in hell.  If Darrow wasn’t obliterated before this was over, Old Nick would set him up in the best flat in hell. 

“LIZZY!  Popcorn!  The main event is starting early!”



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