Uncommon Curiosity

An old man was walking alongside God in the clouds.

God spoke, “So…er…Benedict was it?”

“Yes, Sir…Your Grace, God, Ma’am,” the man answered nervously.  God shined with such brilliant, beautiful light, it was hard to make out God’s true shape.

“Benedict, my people tell me you claimed to be my messenger down on Earth.  Is this true?”

The man smiled, “Yes, the cardinals agreed that I was graced with perfect knowledge of Your true will.”

“Really?  MY will?”  God looked at the man in amazement.

The smile on the old man’s face faded a little.

“And you admonished them to hate each other MORE, in my name?”

The smile on the old man’s face disappeared completely.  “Well, it was Your will…”

“And they believed that it was MY WILL that they judge and hurt each other for being the magnificent creatures I created them to be?”

Looking down at his feet, the man nodded miserably.

With a pained expression, God placed an arm around the old man, squeezing his shoulder tightly.  Immediately the full weight of the man’s life flashed through his head – all the pain he had caused with his words and deeds, and the suffering around the world he could have easily prevented from his position of power, but had obstinately refused to, in the name of God, no less.  The man collapsed in a heap, screaming, and God mercifully let go.

The man got to his feet, shaking, nearly mad from the visions still echoing in his head.

“Well, you’ve got your work cut out for you now, don’t you?”  God looked at the man with a kind sadness, but full of infinite hope, and kissed his forehead.

And, in an instant, the old man was a newborn child in a mother’s arms, crying as the last tiny memory of heaven slipped from his head.