Dear God

by Lloyd Harrison Whitling

SML146  

Dear God,

The universe is a crazy, mixed up place, unsafe from all the kinds of hazards you can imagine. Our lovely world is no better. In fact, it might even be worse than most places in a lot of ways. I'm not complaining, mind you. I'm enjoying living here a lot, in spite of knowing more than I like to about all of that.

What I am complaining about is all those people blaming you for this defective creation. They claim you designed it that way, our world and all the rest. I can't believe that about you, and my doubts are not about you but about them. I want to admit something to you: I disbelieve 'most everything they say. I apologize, but when they say you exist, that has to include that assertion when they make it.

I'm willing to live with a body that hurts most of the time, and no longer does things the way it used to— not that it did stuff all that good to start with. I know you wouldn't have made something like that. You would have made it perfect, and fully capable of anything I could imagine if you had done it; and you wouldn't have given me urges that you knew to be sinful, the way they claim. I know you would have designed it the same way I design things, so they'll work, but only perfect. If I don't want something I design to do some particular thing, I simply don't build that capability in. You would have done it that way, only perfect.

One of those strange people told me how the universe looks "designed" to them. I look at the various features of it, and don't see that at all. It looks more like some gigantic infant went on a rampage, and made garbage out of it. Mind you, if you did do it, I don't really want to offend you by saying that, but I know that you are aware of that, and that I truly do see it that way. I mean, just look at our moon. Were you using it for target practice? Our own world shows signs that it got the same kind of treatment. Did you really hate it, and put us on here to finish it off? If that was your idea, it's working, but I don't think you would have done it that way. I think you would have said whatever magical godly words would apply, and it would have simply disappeared.

In fact, I know that. You are God, after all. Why would you use imperfect humans to do what you desire to accomplish? You could do it, "POOF!" We're taking too long, and we're apt to mess up and only look like that's what we're doing, because the crazy people aren't always the ones who are running things. That wouldn't be a perfect result, and I know you wouldn't stand for that.

And, as a final straw to break any belief I once had, take a good look at yourself: From the stories told about you, you seem almost as imperfect as the worst of all the kinds of humans. I hate to say it, but the words "bumbling idiot" come first to my mind. I hate to say it, yes, but I may as well say it if the stories about you are true, and you know what I'm thinking, said or not.

That's why I never worry about what I say to you, if the stories are true, then you know what I truly believe and that my intentions are honorable. You will understand, and you will also know what it would take to make me change my mind. I have no doubt you would do that.

If the stories are true.

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"To deny a right to the experience of pleasure is immoral unless that denial can be justified by a valid presentation of how pain will result from that experience in an amount that would render the expected pleasure regrettable; or, if it can be shown that pain will be induced in others innocent of any involvement. The role of science in moral issues should be to test that, predict that, and find harmless ways to demonstrate that."

— L. H. Whitling in the eBook, Secular Morality —