God Is Disappointed In You Page 11

  What’s that? You’re sorry? You want God to forgive you? Well, too bad! God doesn’t want to hear any of it. There’s nothing you can say to change his mind. You’re dead men. You might as well break it to your kids that they’re orphans. Or pre-orphans, to be more accurate. Say goodbye to your homes, your crops, and your little pre-orphan kids. Your day of reckoning is coming. And when it comes, Israel will be rebuilt, we will all be high and dry, and living the good life. No thanks to you, assholes.

  Your Loving Cousin,

  Obadiah the Prophet

  Jonah

  God was sick to the teeth with Assyrians. They conquered Israel, looted its wealth, and scattered its people to the wind. Assyria was totally being a pill. So God sent a prophet named Jonah to their capital city, Nineveh, to tell the Assyrians that God was going to kill them all in forty days’ time.

  Jonah worried that they might not be entirely receptive to that idea. In fact, he worried that they might make balloon animals out of his testicles. So when he got to the docks, Jonah tried to give God the slip. Instead of going to Nineveh, he boarded a ship to the city of  Tarshish.

  But God is not easily fooled.

  He sent a storm to intercept Jonah’s boat. Massive waves battered the ship, threatening to sink it. The storm was so bad that the sailors figured the supernatural might be at work. They drew straws to figure out who was to blame for the storm, and Jonah drew the short straw.

  “What kind of god did you have to anger to cause a storm like this?” the sailors demanded to know.

  “I’m a Jew,” Jonah replied, “Our god created the ocean. Come to think of it, he also created the land.”

  “What is wrong with you? Why would you ruffle a god like that?” the sailors scolded. “What do we have to do to calm this god of yours down?”

  “If you throw me overboard, everything will be fine,” Jonah informed them.

  As angry as they were with Jonah, throwing a passenger over the side of your ship wasn’t really done, so the sailors persevered, bailing water and paddling for the shore. But when the storm worsened, and the whole ship seemed on the verge of sinking, they reluctantly tossed Jonah into the sea. The storm immediately stopped, the sun came out, and the ship sailed on its merry way.

  Jonah, meanwhile, sank into the ocean and was swallowed whole by a giant fish. While trapped inside the intestinal tract of the fish, Jonah had time to take a moral inventory of his life.

  “Why did I think I could cheat God?” he wondered. “For that matter, why should I be afraid of the Assyrians if God is on my side? If anyone so much as tickled me, God could have them swallowed by a fish, or beaten to death by an orangutan— or something.”

  It wasn’t long before the fish lost its taste for minor prophets and vomited Jonah up onto the shore. Jonah, for his part, was no longer worried about what might happen to him. Smelling like a bucket of chum, he proudly marched into Nineveh. He wandered the city streets stinking of fish and telling everyone about the trucker-beating God was about to lay on them.

  The Assyrians didn’t try to kill him. They didn’t even laugh at him. To his shock, the entire city fell flat on their faces and began praying for forgiveness. The king ordered everyone to roll around in the dirt and wear sackcloth as a sign of their humility. They even dressed their animals up in cute little sackcloth outfits.

  “That’s right,” Jonah said, smug with power, “you should be afraid!”

  Having delivered his message of doom, Jonah triumphantly marched out of the city, found a nice shady tree under which to sit, and waited for the fireworks to begin. Only the fireworks never came. God’s deadline came and went and still Nineveh stood, every brick in place.

  Jonah sat there, disappointed. “God, you told me you were going to destroy Nineveh. You brought me out here specifically to tell them that. I came hundreds of miles, INSIDE A FISH, goddammit! You’re totally leaving me hanging, here.”

  “I changed my mind,” God shrugged. “They were all so sad and apologetic. It made me feel sorry for them.”

  “Fine, but just so you know, I don’t appreciate being made to look like an idiot.”

  God smote the shady tree Jonah was sitting under, causing it to whither, die, and topple over.

  “Oh great!” Jonah said. “It’s like a hundred degrees out here. Just kill me now. This is the worst day, ever.”

  “You’re upset about the destruction of a single tree?” God said.

  “A tree you did nothing to plant, a tree you never watered, or nurtured in any way? That city over there has a hundred and twenty thousand people, every single one of whom I created and care about. Are you telling me their deaths shouldn’t bother me?

  “Just because they chose the wrong religion doesn’t mean that I don’t love them just as much as I love you.”

  Micah

  God is coming, and he doesn’t look very happy. He’s melting mountains and tearing up valleys, and if he catches you with some other god, something’s going to get smashed. And when God gets all smashy, nobody wins. Samaria and Jerusalem will be reduced to rubble. Your children will be sold off as slaves. Your hair will fall out. Not a very nice vision of the future, is it?

  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not gloating. When this happens, it’ll be the saddest day of my life. I’ll cry like a jackal and moan like an owl. You can just imagine what that will sound like. I’ll be so depressed that I’ll walk around town naked for a few days.

  I love our country, I really do.

  I just can’t kid myself about the sort of things that are going on here anymore. We used to be a nation of people who treated each other like family, now the rich and powerful are snatching up everything. The rest of us have no choice but to work their plantations or starve. If God wanted his people to be slaves, he would have left us laying bricks in Egypt.

  At least there we had cucumbers. You know, it used to be that when you heard that your neighbor was in danger of losing their orchard, you would go over to lend a hand. Now, the only reason you stop by is to get a good deal on plums.

  I realize that saying these things isn’t going to make me a very popular man. But then, I’m not one of those prophets whose predictions get sweeter the more you put in his tip jar. If I wanted to be liked, I’d prophesy the coming of free wine. But I want you to know the truth of God’s anger, even if you hate me for it.

  Most of you seem to think that you can escape judgment so long as you ply God with sacrificial rams and olive oil. And maybe that’s the problem— you simply think of God as one more public servant who needs to be bribed. But God doesn’t need any more boar meat or lamp oil. In fact, there are only three things God wants from you. Are you listening? Here it is, the entire Jewish religion in a nutshell:

  1. Build a just society where the rich and powerful don’t get to treat the rest of us like livestock.

  2. Don’t get all too cool for school whenever God tries to tell you something. Be humble. You’re never so holy that you can’t improve a little.

  And finally,

  3. For gravy’s sake, help each other out once in a while. Don’t you understand? We’re here on Earth to make life better for each other.

  Nahum

  The Lord’s not a hard guy, but don’t fool yourselves, he will not let the nation that destroyed Israel go unpunished. You Assyrians think you’re pretty hot corn, don’t you? Well, let me tell you what’s going to happen to your capital city: Nineveh will run dry. God will dry up all the wells, and your water will turn to sand. Your people will be parched. The cedars of Lebanon will wither.

  Then, just for a dash of irony, he’ll send in a flood to destroy you. Your idols will be smashed. Your children will all drown. Meanwhile, the people of Judah will celebrate your destruction with some extremely cool festivals and dances.

  Then God will send soldiers dressed in red to plunder your city. Their chariots will buzz up and down your streets, and the soldiers will go door to door, looting your sil
ver and gold and making your slaves moan like doves. Dead bodies will clog the gutters. This is what you’ve done to other nations, so now it’s your turn. God is going to lift your skirt over your head and laugh at your naked body while he pelts you with shit.

  You think your walls will keep you safe? You’ve destroyed walled cities before. You know that’s not enough to keep you safe. The clouds are nothing but the dust God kicks up when he walks. Rocks shatter when he walks past. God is going to shake your fortresses like a tree and watch your soldiers fall out like loose figs.

  And do you know what the worst part of all this will be? The fact that nobody’s even going to miss you. When the world finally sees the Assyrians getting annihilated, people will cheer with joy. Maybe even do a backflip.

  Habakkuk

  Q: Dear Lord, how long are you going to goddamn ignore me? Every day I pray for you to stop the Babylonians from killing us, and every day passes without you doing anything to help.

  A: Dear Habakkuk, why would I stop the Babylonians? I’m the one who sent them. I found the nastiest, least trustworthy people in the world, and raised them to become the totally bad-ass nation they are. Their horses are as fast as leopards and as mean as wolves. They laugh at fortified cities. They take prisoners like they’re scooping up sand with a bucket. Their strength is their only god and their will is their only law. Totally bad-ass. They’re going to run through you guys like bread through a goose.

  Q: Dear Lord, so you’re using the Babylonians to punish us? Okay, I get that. But if you’re going to punish us for being bad, doesn’t it strike you as a tad unfair to use people who are ten times worse than we ever were? I mean, come on, that’s like letting a serial killer pass sentence on a jaywalker.

  I was brought up to believe that you are a just god who rewards the righteous and punishes the wicked, but now I’m starting to think that’s a crock of shit. Everywhere I look, I see prophets hiding for their lives while the corrupt rule. Have I been misinformed? Is justice simply not all that important to you? I eagerly await your reply.

  A: Dear Habakkuk, who says I’m not going to punish the Babylonians, too? You’re right, they’re much worse than you are. They are idolatrous, blood-thirsty and as greedy as death. If they’re the punishment for your sins, just imagine what kind of crazy shit I have in store for them. Don’t worry, by the time I’m done, everybody will get the punishment they deserve.

  Q: No, no, you misunderstand. I’m not asking you to punish them, too. I’m asking you to ease up on all of us. To be honest, I’m not going to care if they’re punished if I’m a severed head sitting on a pike somewhere. Sigh. Forget it. Look, I don’t mean to tell you how to run your Universe, Lord. I guess you know what’s best.

  You’ve done amazing things for us in the past, and I’m sure you will come through for us again. And there’s certainly no question that you have the power to do whatever you want. If you wanted to, you could split a mountain in half. You could beat up a river. You could kill the moon with a spear. You’re the greatest thing in the Universe and everyone everywhere should bow down to you as the Almighty God. But if I could just make one humble request of you before I go, it would be this:

  Don’t rely entirely on your power to prove your greatness. Mercy can be an act of greatness, too. So if you could see your way clear to saving me from disembowelment, I sure would appreciate it.

  Zephaniah

  I’ll kill anything that moves,” sayeth the Lord. “And those who survive will be living in shabby little mounds of rubble. I’ll swat the birds right out of the sky. I’ll beat up on fish for no good reason. That’s how furious I am. The only reason I created human beings in the first place was so I could have some company, but since day one, I’ve been ignored, belittled, and jilted for hipster gods, like Baal or Moloch.

  “I’m saving my worst revenge for you, my ‘Chosen People,’ because you are always cheating on me. I’m going to run through the streets of Jerusalem at night with a lantern, so I can flat-blast you while you sleep. I’ll dropkick your princes and smoke your merchants like cigarettes. I’ll knock people out just for wearing foreign clothes. If you don’t like it, ask Baal to save you.

  “Don’t think I’m joking, either. When I dish out my revenge, people will bleed like torn sandbags and shit out their entrails. You’ll try to bribe me to make it stop, but guess what? I don’t need your money!

  “And it’s not just the people of Israel who need to be worried, either. You’d better watch your ass, too, Philistines. You don’t want me coming over for breakfast. And you Moabites have been talking a lot of smack lately. Ever hear of Sodom and Gomorrah? When I’m done, there will be nothing left of you but weeds and salt. Good luck convincing people to come live on your weed and salt farm!

  “Don’t laugh, Ethiopia. You’re next on the list. And listen up, Assyria, because I am going to shake you up. Hard. When I am done with you there won’t be a single owl left standing in a tree.

  “Then I’ll be sorry I hit you. I’ll come around with flowers and try to take you out for brunch. I just don’t understand why we have to keep going through all this. If you human beings would just be the friend I created you to be, I’d take care of you just like I did in the old days. I’d heal the sick and pamper the healthy. I’d massage the old and tickle babies. I guess I don’t know what else to do. Maybe a few earthquakes and lightning attacks will get your attention. I just hope that when I’m done with all this killing, we can be cool. I really do want you to like me.”

  Haggai

  After thirty years in exile, the Jews were back home in the Holy Land, rebuilding their houses, spackling their walls, and fixing their endtables. The prophet Haggai was troubled by the fact that, even as the nation was rebuilt, the Temple of Solomon still stood in ruins. He made it his personal mission to convince the people of Israel to return the temple to its former glory.

  “Listen, O Israel,” said the prophet Haggai. “Now that the Lord has delivered you back unto the land of your fathers…”

  “You mean Darius,” someone interrupted.

  “What’s that?”

  “It was the Emperor Darius who let us return to Israel.”

  “That’s right,” someone else chipped in. “I remember. It was all over the news.”

  “Ah,” Haggai replied, “but who do you think made up Darius’ mind to do so?”

  “Darius.”

  “Okay let’s call it a joint effort,” Haggai conceded. “God and Darius have allowed you to return to Israel. The point is this: You’ve all been building your panel houses, and don’t get me wrong, some of them are really cute, but now that we’re back, thanks in some part to God, shouldn’t we rebuild his house, too?

  Remember that drought we had? I bet God would’ve spotted us some rain if we had asked him in his clean new temple.

  “Are there any old people here? You may remember what the old temple looked like. Was it covered in rubble and rat shit? Is that the way you remember it? Me neither. You may also remember what a picky eater God was. If we tried bringing him a steak, and it touched his peas or his bread, we had to throw it out and start all over again. Does that sound like the kind of god you want eating in a pile of graffiti-covered ruins?”

  Haggai turned to the governor, Zerubbabel, and said, “God told me that some day, very soon, he is going to conquer all the kingdoms of the Earth and rule the world himself from right here. From his temple. And you can be the man who makes all that possible.

  Now, that’s the sort of favor God doesn’t forget.”

  Taking the hint, the governor immediately put construction crews to work, rebuilding the temple.

  “I can’t tell you how happy I am at all the progress you’ve made rebuilding the temple,” Haggai told the governor. “And believe me, God notices. In fact, he told me that when he does come back to rule the world, you’re going to be his right hand man. You’re going to rule the world together.”

  “Really?”
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  “Oh, yes. Trust me, the day will come when everyone in the world will know the immortal name of Zerubbabel. But, for now, get back to work on the temple.”

  Zechariah

  I know Haggai’s already gone over this with you, but we need to really to step it up on rebuilding the temple. Let’s set the whole reconstruction effort on rhumba beat and get it done as soon as possible, okay?

  Once you get the temple built, God will send us a Messiah—a leader who will free our nation of foreign rule. A king who will gather all the Jews scattered around the world, bring them home, and set up the Kingdom of God here on Earth. But God can only send the Messiah AFTER the temple’s finished. Don’t ask me why, that’s just what he told me.

  And it’s not enough to rebuild the temple, either. You have to really be into it. You can’t just fake-it-until-you-make-it the way we used to. God wants our obedience, but more than that, he wants a people who genuinely love him, and treat each other with respect. It doesn’t work to sing inside the temple and curse the widow begging on the steps. It’s because we didn’t listen to him when he commanded us to be decent people, that he didn’t listen to us cry for help when we were getting stabbed in the ass by Babylonians.

  In the old days, the temple was a happy place, somewhere we could go to slay some goats and apologize to God. A healthy source of guilt and remorse, always there to remind us that we were being watched and shamed. And we need some shaming, to be frank. We need the temple to inspire us to behave like God’s chosen people, or he won’t even bother with us. No Messiah, no Kingdom of God— nothing.