You may as well call Everyman ‘Cliff Hanger’. God is into clichés and since the beginning of time God gets His jollies ogling at Cliff who forever hangs onto a small branch on a steep cliff overlooking a canyon. From His corner of Heaven, God romps around like a four-year-old with a towel cape draped over his shoulders superheroing next to his imaginary friend, who wears a red costume with a pitchfork and a handlebar moustache. Cliff, or Pauline his counterpart, face perilous and unforeseen circumstances and live just this side of Cynical City. Think Jesus, Billy Budd from literature, Job and Truman from the movie. Watch God raise the stakes like a manipulative paperback writer toying with protagonist’s feelings, suspending him like a spider dangling over a fire pit. Watch God pull trick after trick out of His sleeve. Perfect time for a miracle, you ask? Not just yet. Send in the locusts, drought, boils. May as well kill off Cliff’s family. Stay tuned as what’s left of his so-called friends judge and offer self-righteous advise, Jobian counseling at its best. Barbeque any semblance of ego. Watch Cliff don white shoes and scamper to old-time religion praying for deliverance. Observe Pauline in a red hat fervently searching for secret meanings in her suffering. Mercy! Not yet. The Master Storyteller is a drama queen. Nonplussed and nonchalantly, He interrogates the trembling Cliff, “Have you taken a close look at My sweet Behemoth? Can you thunder with a voice like Mine? Can you catch Leviathan with a hook and tame him? Teach him to beg, to roll over, to play dead?” Guess who is biggest and best? Abrahamic, our hero grits his teeth, takes his future, his very own inner Isaac, and lashes him to a cold slab for sacrifice. That’s what God wants, right? Humility and control. The Divine Trickster flexes His biceps and grins sardonically well aware of all of Cliff’s potential solutions stashed in His back pocket. Swiftly, the Master Magician produces a white hare. “Ta dum! Lookie here what I found! Just what you need.” After years of watching God in action, I can name that tune in three notes. That’s how God works. It’s Old Testament and He needs intervention, hint hint. From my little corner of the world, I wink at Leviathan in my goldfish bowl and sigh before beginning B-Mod.
CommentsPlease feel free to react to these essays and poems and offer suggestions, including potential topics. Thank You, Katie