"Creation Story" by Frances Monro

Dearly Beloved,


In the beginning was the Word. And the word was with God, and the Word was of God, and the Word was God.

And after God had created the heavens and the earth, and the beasts of the field and the birds of the air, and after he had created the plants and the flowers and the fish of the seas and the creatures that crawl and burrow and slither beneath the earth He looked upon His work and he saw that it was good. God rested, but in his resting he became bored and unhappy because he was lonely. And he said let there be divine and radiant beings to be my servants that may dance and sing before me and please me with their beauty.

So God created the angels to be his servants and he saw that it was good and he was pleased. But after a time the beauty and light of these angelic beings began to pall and their dances and songs seemed not as sweet as it had been before. And God grew bored again, and he said Let there be beings of darkness and mischief, such that their evil may inspire feelings of awe and terror and they may do battle with my servants for my entertainment.

So God created the devils to battle his servants and made a fearsome evil devil with awful powers second only to his own and set them in a dark glittering kingdom of jet beneath the earth, and the infernal host ventured out to fight battle after battle with the heavenly host and courage and honor and hatred and war were created and God looked upon his creation and he saw that it was good, and he was pleased.

But after a time the battle between light and dark seemed not so novel as it had at first, and God grew bored and ceased to listen to the songs of his servants or the howls and jeers of his Enemy, and he fell deep into thought.

And God said the Earth and Love and Evil are my finest creations, but in excess their taste fades and is not so good as it was at first. Therefore I will create a being which partakes in all three, beauty, terror and the mortal dust, such that by it's changing nature it may always show me a new and novel face and thus serve to entertain me always.

So God created men and women.

God placed men and women into the garden he had created and sat back to watch their antics. He watched them chase down the animals of the field and slay them and consume them. He watched them hack down the trees and feed them into flames to make smoke.

He watched them build tiny houses for themselves from tree and rock and bone. He watched them fornicate and beget children. He watched them love their children and kill them. He listened to them singing and watched them dance.

He watched them make war and rape and kill and burn one another. He watched them speak and reason and deliver justice and good and charity. He watched them nail one another to trees and laugh at the victim's shrill cries of agony. He watched them burn one another in cauldrons and torture each other in a thousand inventive and ingenious ways.

He marvelled at their art and their clothes and their manners and their seductions and betrayals and politics. He delighted in their swords and spears and guns and bombs. He listened to their speeches and loved their arrogance and hubris.

He looked upon men and women and delighted in their glory, their brilliance, their earthiness and their evil. He looked upon his work and saw that it was good and he laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed until the tears ran down his cheeks.

~*~

Note:

This is not intended as a slight against God, poor guy. God knows, if he does truly exist in some conscious form like an old man with a beard who knows everything then he must be in incredible pain, and I wouldn't wish to add to his suffering. God is just collateral damage in this satire. Hell, they say, is the absence of God, of Love. This then, is a vision of hell.

Ultimately, Love, or God, as well as Hate and Despair exist inside each and every one of us. We could easily build a New Jerusalem. We could create Heaven on Earth. It wouldn't even be difficult, it would just require some love for one another.

There's a little ironic humor in that last statement too.

I love you,

Ché