It is midnight on
Yahweh: I AM WHO I AM.[1]
The air crackles excitingly. Presently, toga-clad gods and goddesses descend, wearing gaudy colors, laughing and jabbering away in Greek. They glance towards the bush, suddenly hushed for a moment, then burst out laughing.
Athena: A burning bush! I’ve never heard of a more ridiculous manifestation for a god in my entire life. Why not appear to the beings face to face? The least you could do is to meet them in disguise!
Aphrodite: I don’t know, the burning bush has a certain charm to it. She bats her eyelashes flirtatiously. Perhaps the burning is the burning of passion, and after all, bushes serve many purposes.
Yahweh: Athena, that’s a good question; I’ll get around to it eventually. If I appeared to them face to face now, it would kill them. I love them too much to do that to them. As for disguises, well, doesn’t this count? Moses seemed to like it.
Zeus: Ha! You’re so ridiculous, Yahweh—why do you care for those little creatures called men? Aren’t they just pesky flies in our skin?
Yahweh: To you, maybe, but I’m rather fond of them. Looks affronted at first, then eyes Zeus quizzically. How can you say that when you’ve become so, ah, close to their women?
Zeus: Um. . . er. . .
Hera: Oh, don’t get me started on that! Eyes blaze menacingly. I would be quite happy to see every mortal woman on the face of the earth wiped out, in one fell swoop! I mean, after all, isn’t it Eve, a woman, who caused you so much grief, Yahweh? And goodness knows we’ve had enough of Pandora!
Yahweh: Of course, the humans have their faults—they can’t help it, can they? I suppose that is sort of my fault, what with giving them free choice and all—
Zeus: Yeah, gee thanks; they’ve been giving us issues ever since.
Poseiden: Punks! I mean, look at Odysseus, even having the gall to blind my poor Cyclops. Why? Because you gave them the choice to do it.
Athena: Tartly. He was only defending himself, and your Cyclops deserved what was coming to him.[2] Odysseus was a good man.
Yahweh: We digress. As I was saying, I gave them free choice because I love them. It’s that simple. Naturally, I want them to love me, too, but it just wouldn’t feel right if they were doing it just because I told them to. Don’t you agree?
Aphrodite: As if! It’s so much fun to see what happens when they are forced to love each other, struck by my good little Cupid’s arrows. I mean, is it not incredibly fascinating, what Medea did out of forced love? [3]
Yahweh: Would you want to be in her shoes?
Aphrodite: Well, no, but—
Yahweh: I rest my case.
Aphrodite: But we won’t ever be in their shoes! Those mortals exist for our amusement, nothing more. What does it matter to me if a few mortals have miserable lives? It just makes for more entertainment—after all; they continue to perform these stories today.
Yahweh: There’s your problem, guys—all of you! You don’t care what happens to them because you’re never going to take responsibility for what you claim to have created. You just mindlessly create race after race as you get tired of them or as they do something you don’t like, and that just drives me crazy. [4] We’re not going to have a repeat of the race of gold, silver, or bronze—these people are mine, and I’m going to treat them right!
Poseidon: Haven’t we been treating them right? Don’t they, after all, exist to worship us? Don’t human beings exist for our own vindication? Your followers say that often, you know.
Athena: With a start. Wow, Poseidon said something I agree with for a change. How are you any better than us if you’re just using them to win your cosmic disagreement with this Satan guy? Aren’t you just doing the same thing I do when I help wanderers like Odysseus and Jason?
Yahweh: They don’t exist solely for that purpose—they exist because I love them, and I want them to be happy. Satan’s issue is that he really can’t handle happiness and neither, it seems, can you.
Aphrodite: Hey, I’m plenty happy! Considers. Though there are times, I suppose, when I wish that there was something more than the sacrifices and the empty amusements. . .
Athena: Something to reward me from my attempts to help the poor mortals. . .
Hera: Something to fill the emptiness of a heart devoted to a god who cheats on her. . .
Poseidon: Something beyond the anger at those who trespass against my kingdom of the sea. . .
Zeus: Something beyond these infernal divine politics. . .
There is a moment of silent sighing, and then all look towards the burning bush inquisitively. The bush continues to flicker warmly, and Yahweh’s voice becomes soft as he delivers this speech.
Yahweh: As you might have noticed by now, immortality is empty without a purpose. That is why you have turned man into your playthings, your toys of amusement and sources of ego-stroking through worship. I have found a purpose, though: to love my dear mortal creatures, whether or not they worship me. This has given me so much joy in my infinite life, and I want them to experience the same thing. But love is not love if I force them to love me, isn’t it?
Aphrodite: Yes . . . no?
Yahweh: Without choice, there is no love. Without love, life is miserable, as you might have noticed. Consider my servant David.
Athena: I always did like that one—he reminded me so much of Jason and Odysseus.
Yahweh: They have a lot in common, don’t they? My servant David was a man after my own heart. He did his best to follow my ways, and loved me like few of my servants ever have—though he did disobey me quite frequently. I’m sure you’re aware of the situation with Bathsheba.
Aphrodite: Er . . . sorry about that one.
Yahweh: He may have made some huge mistakes in that regard, but he still came back to me. I only wish that there had been some way to keep the end of his life from being so miserable. Unfortunately, we still operate under the laws of cause and effect.
Zeus: Yes, David came back to you, but wasn’t that only after you killed his child?
Yahweh: Every mortal has to die sooner or later—haven’t you noticed? The child would have had to die sooner or later, and in many cases, death at birth would be better than a lifetime of misery. What I do, I do out of love.
Aphrodite: How is death love? I’ve never heard of anything so ridiculous!
Yahweh: Death isn’t such a bad thing, you know. . .
Athena: Snorts. How would you know? You’ve never died. You never will. You’re immortal—like us. How can you call yourself a god of love and still allow death into the world when you’ve never tasted death? Love! Ha, it never did anything for me, and I despise you for claiming it has any value whatsoever!
Yahweh: That’s where you’re wrong, Athena. You have walked among the mortals yourself, yes?
Athena: Nods.
Yahweh: Worn their clothing?
Athena: Nods once more.
Yahweh: But have you ever truly become one of them, living with them, rejoicing with them, mourning with them, and dying with them?
Athena: Quietly. No, Yahweh. That would involve giving up my power, and why would I want to do that?
Yahweh: To show those wretched mortals love, and to finally be able to speak with them face to face. They lie, they cheat, they are irreverent, they murder and kill—and yet, I love them. For that reason, I will go to them, get off this mountain, and be a part of their lives. I will be their God, and they will be my people.
Athena: Surely you don’t mean. . .
Yahweh: I do.
The burning bush’s fire rages even taller and hotter for a moment, then the flames swirl into the shape of a man, humble and poor—Jesus Christ, the Messiah.
Zeus: That’s crazy. It’ll never work. Why bother?
Yahweh: Haven’t I told you enough for you to get it? Enjoy your pesky little political games, I’ve got mortals to save! Disappears.
Zeus: Well, that was interesting. Anyone want to watch the Festival of Dionysus tonight? They’re performing Oedipus the King, a real treat.
Poseidon: That’s the one where the mortal stabs his eyes out because he tries to mess with us? I’m game!
Hera: Count me in!
Aphrodite: You know me, any excuse to party!
They all turn to face Athena, who is silent for a moment, staring at the spot where the burning bush had been. Sensing their eyes on her, she turns to them and shrugs.
Athena: I. . . guess I’ll go, too. Aside. Thought he might be on to something, but I guess I’m just fooling myself.
All vanish, leaving the mountain empty and dark.
