Friday, October 17, 2014

Where is Everyone? Four: Harold Meets God

Black Jesus used his flashlight to lead Harold to a latrine. Once Harold took care of business, Black Jesus walked Harold to a two-person pup tent. They had turned away from the bonfire and hopped over the ditch surrounding the inner circle of tents. Harold noticed that the revelry around the bonfire had ceased. The fire was smaller now, giving off less light.

Black Jesus opened the flap of the pup tent and said to Harold, “Duck inside. God wants to speak with you.”

Harold’s eyes widened. “God?”

Black Jesus said, “Yes, God. Don’t be intimidated. God’s just a being like any other, the only difference is the manifestation of being. You’re worthy as is each being no matter how manifested.”

Harold nodded his head and thanked Black Jesus. He ducked down and crawled into the tent. There was an upright flashlight covered in a pink handkerchief, giving the inside of the tent a pleasant glow. An old Native American man with a white beard sat cross-legged behind the light at the back of the tent. He held a potted cactus in his hands. His eyes were closed and he was humming a tune Harold did not know. Harold sat just inside the tent and assumed a cross-legged position as well.

The old man opened his eyes and placed the cactus on the ground in front of him. He reached down on his right and picked up a canteen. He handed it to Harold. Harold accepted it and drank from it. He extended his arm to hand it back, but the old man gestured for Harold to keep it. The old man reached down to his left and picked up a tray with chips and salsa. He handed the tray to Harold. Harold accepted it and placed it on his lap. He grabbed a chip, dipped it, and put it in his mouth. He chewed and swallowed it and then grabbed another chip.

The old man spoke, “Welcome Harold. I am pleased to meet you.”

Harold responded, “Thank you, God. I’m a bit overwhelmed.”

The old man laughed. “Oh, Harold, no. I am not God. I am the vessel God chose to talk to you.”

Harold asked the old man, “God’s not here?”

The old man said, “God is everywhere. God is manifesting as a peyote cactus in the potted plant in front of me.” The old man picked up the potted cactus and handed it to Harold. Harold put the tray of chips and salsa to the side and gingerly grabbed hold of the pot.

Harold asked the old man if he should hold the pot or put it down in front of him. The old man said it didn’t matter. Harold chose to hold the pot.

The old man smiled and said, “God is pleased with you, Harold.”

Harold said, “Really? Why?”

The old man said, “God loves you. God enjoys sitting in your lap.”

Harold shifted his position a bit. He felt a bit awkward holding God in his hands. He had a brief moment of doubt and thought to himself, “I’m holding God in my lap? This is …” He stopped himself from thinking that it was ridiculous. He remembered his realization when he was with the Bigfoot, Yeti, and Sasquatch Jesus’s, that he had too often been critical, judgmental, and not considerate of others. He let out a deep breath, calmed himself, and looked down at the peyote cactus. He asked the old man, “Should I talk to you or to God?”

“We are both present so we will both be able to hear you. You can look anywhere you please as you talk.”

“Are those your words or the words of God?”

“All words are God’s words, even those you speak.”

Harold nodded solemnly. He was intrigued. “Does that mean these words I’m speaking are God’s words?”

“Do you think they are?”

“I don’t know.”

“God said that your words are God’s. You don’t believe God is telling you the truth?”

“I don’t know. Before yesterday, which I guess would be today, I didn’t know whether or not I believed in God.”

“And yesterday?”

“Yesterday is so strange that I don’t know what or how to think.”

“You are confused.”

Harold sighed. “Yes, I am.”

“Perhaps if you worry less you will feel less confused.”

“I’ll try.”

The old man suggested Harold eat more chips and salsa. Harold did so. As he ate, the old man said, “God doesn’t want you to worry, Harold. God loves you and provides for you. Yesterday, anyway.”

“Does God love me today?”

“Yes.”

“Does God provide for me today?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

The old man took a deep breath and exhaled. “Today is a difficult time to be. Yesterday and tomorrow are much easier; more relaxing, more fun. The sex is better, too. God loves today but cannot provide help to any manifestations existing in the moment.”

“Why not?”

“God isn’t allowed to help today. The manifestations within now are resistant to God.”

“How so?”

“The manifestations choose not to let God help.”

“How do they do that?”

“By making decisions.”

“What kind of decisions?”

“The kind of decisions that reject God’s presence.”

“But what about religion and spirituality?”

The old man asked, “What about them?”

“Well,” said Harold, “Most religions preach that God is real, that if people place their faith in God then God will help them. If people pray or meditate then they’ll commune with God and God will be with them.”

“God doesn’t believe in faith. God doesn’t answer prayers, either. God prefers text messages. As for communion, God is always in communion with each manifestation of being, but in today God communes so thoroughly that each manifestation of being is God.”

Harold asked the old man, “Is that what is meant by the phrase, 'look within yourself'?”

The old man responded, “No. ‘Looking,’ even as a metaphor, has nothing to do with communing with God. God is in communion whether a person of today pays attention or not. Think of it this way: If God is communing with the manifestation of your being as Harold today then whatever you provide for yourself today God has provided you.”

“That’s pretty much meaningless.”

“Yes, that’s why God said that God does not provide for today. God provides for yesterday and tomorrow, though. I like living in yesterday. Tomorrow is good as well. Today? Eh, it’s an unfortunate time to be manifested. Be thankful you’re free from today; it’s much better yesterday.”

“I’m still getting used to it. I didn’t like it when my house burned down, I couldn’t find any neighbors, and I had to sleep in Wal-Mart, but once I met the Jesus’s in the parking lot things have been going better. Weird, but better.”

“Yes, Jesus’s make living better. They are funny.”

“Are all the Jesus’s your sons ... and daughters?”

The old man said, “Huh? Oh, that old gag! Ha! The Jesus’s make up a lot of stuff. Most of them are comedians by nature of their manifestations. Not all of them, though.”

Harold was simultaneously angry and amused. “Well, if they’re not … I mean, if … I don’t know what I mean.”

The old man laughed. “Ha! You are funny, too. You have a strange sense of humor, Harold, but God likes it.”

Harold asked God, “How many Jesus’s are there?”

The old man responded, “God does not know. God cannot count that high.”

“I thought God was omniscient.”

“Who told you that? Wait, never mind. The Jesus’s, right?”

Harold nodded his head and the old man laughed. “Can I ask you something, God?”

“You’ve been asking questions for some time. Why stop now?” The old man laughed.

Harold brushed off the laughter. He was annoyed, but tried to suppress it. “There are peyote cacti, ayahuasca, psychedelic mushrooms, and other plants with mind-altering, consciousness-expanding properties. Is that where God really is today?”

The old man stroked his beard with his hand as he sat quietly in contemplation. “God can understand why you would ask that question, but the answer is no. Those plants do make today much more interesting, though. Harold, God is sorry, but the conversation must end for the night. Take the peyote cactus with you. Arab Jesus is waiting for you outside the tent.”

Harold was surprised. “God wants to accompany me in the form of a cactus?!”

“Huh? Oh. Ha! I was fucking with you. I’m God. You’re just holding a potted peyote cactus. Ha ha ha ha! Oh, I enjoyed talking with you, Harold. You make me laugh. Have a good night. I’ll see you soon.”

Harold turned around and opened the flap of the tent. He carefully stood while holding the potted cactus. Arab Jesus stood in front of him. She was holding a lantern. Harold noticed a twinkle in her eye.

“Come to my tent, Harold. I have something to show you.”



What will happen next?

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