Eavesdropping on God

I'll never forget the Sunday we listened in on God by accident.

I mean, usually church is - well, church, you know? You know what to expect: a good, hefty sermon to chew on for the rest of the week, some prayers, some music, yada, yada. Sometimes things get a little exciting, like the time the Christmas tree fell over on Muriel Sturmendrang when she was singing 'O Holy Night', or that time the Bell Choir was playing, and Ernest Bryson let the low C bell go flying and knocked the conductor, old Sam Krepsbok, out cold. He always used to tell them to play with feeling, but I noticed he kinda stopped saying that from then on.

So anyway, it was a normal Sunday, see, and Pastor Kate was just getting started on her sermon, and she was talking about how we oughta listen more for God's word, and do God's will and all that, when something kinda went screwy with the sound system. First there was a squawk that made everyone grab their ears, and then voices started coming in, like someone was turning up the sound, and then we could hear what they were saying.

The first voice was nice enough, but it was the second voice talking that really made you strain to listen. It was this low, smooth voice, that made you feel good just to hear it - but it sounded a little impatient, just then.

"Good morning, Your Worship, Wonderful Counselor, Righteous One - "

"Gabriel, I've told you over and over, you don't have to go through all the names every time you report in."

"I'm sorry, O Great One, I just can't help myself..."

(sigh) "Oh, that's all right. Let's get started. We'll have to keep this short - I've got four million, three hundred thousand other galaxies to check on today."

(sound of papers rustling) "Well, O Honored One, Great Spirit - sorry - things - well, they're not going well, all in all, down there. Here are the numbers."

"Wait - what?! Are you sure these are right?"

"Yes, I've checked them several times."

(another sigh) "I tell you, Gabriel, I'm about at my wit's end with those kids of mine. You do your best to raise them right, and they go off and drive too fast, and they forget to call, and the next time you check they're destroying the earth. Sometimes I wish I'd never given them free will, for Heaven's sake."

"Now, Great One, You know You don't mean that. Why, just a few hundred years ago You were saying how pleased You were at how well they were doing. And You know You like their hymns - and that da Vinci fellow has done some very nice work."

"Yes, yes, I grant you, they have their good days. And I love them, every one of them, Gabe, but what am I to do? I mean, I really want them to pull themselves out of the primordial slime and all, but maybe it's time to bring in the four guys on horses and start over. Or let the dolphins have a try instead. All they need are thumbs and they could go far..."

"I really don't know, Your Worship - I mean, You're in charge."

(a long pause) "I think we'll just have to wait and see, Gabriel. I keep thinking of that story about the prodigal son. Maybe they'll get it right before it's too late."

There was another pause - we were all frozen, just stunned. And then, suddenly the voice said loudly, "Wait - Gabriel, is that thing on? Oh, cripes. How many times have I told you not to set your coffee mug down by the intercom switch? How long have they been listening? Turn it - "

And then there was silence. We all stared at each other, our mouths hanging open. There was a long, long silence, and then Pastor Kate gulped a few times and finally said, "Amen."

So. You tell me - is it going to be us, or the dolphins, or nothing at all? For now, at least, I guess it's up to us. I just hope we can figure it out before it's too late.

And God, if You're listening, don't give up on us just yet, OK?