My Two Cents: Finally, God Spoke To Me!
By Dom Serafini
I’ve done it. Finally I
was able to talk with Him. Yes, I’m talking about God. It was getting frustrating.
U.S. TV Christian fundamentalist Pat Robertson does it. President Bush has
regular daily conversations with Him. Mel Gibson did it. Hell, even CBS commentator
Andy Rooney managed to talk to God.
First, I tried getting His attention in church, but it was too noisy, what with
the organ blasting and the choir in full octave. Then I went to the cemetery
- I figured it would be quieter yet appropriate, but nothing happened. He simply
wouldn’t talk to me.
I couldn’t figure out why He would talk to Robertson, right in the middle of
a TV studio, with the applause sign flashing and the cash register clinking,
and not to me.
I wondered if it could be that, in the past, I was timorous of God and, out of
respect, wouldn’t bring myself to be too chummy with Him, nor would I say his
name at every occasion. Indeed, He instructed us not to say his name in vain.
Perhaps, I thought, he was displeased with my attitude, preferring that of Reverend
Robertson and President Bush.
I even acted like a Christian Fundamentalist and stopped drinking wine with my
meals. I listened to speeches by neo-cons; watched Fox News, read The New
York Post and listened to commentator Bill O’Reilly, the populist TV host.
Still nothing. God did not want to talk with me.
The other day, though, it finally happened. While I was walking from the Century
Plaza Hotel to the Park Hyatt Hotel in Los Angeles, I heard a voice coming from
behind, calling me. Yes, it was He.
“What took you so long?” I protested after a brief hesitation and,
frankly, feeling rather agitated. “Sorry,” he said, “but I’ve
been too busy in the Middle East.” “Yes, but you find the time to talk
to Robertson!” “Well, he tends to exaggerate. But he has a business
to run,” he confided. ” And he tells me things he thinks I don’t know.
I feel like his agent. However, I talk with President Bush regularly. I’m sure
you understand why.”
“OK, OK. As a journalist, I need to verify a published story. Is it true
that you told Rooney that Robertson and Gibson are crazy as bedbugs?” “Well,
that’s privileged information,” said God, “but I can assure you that
no one is going to blacklist Gibson at the studios.”
“So, The
New York Times erred in reporting it?” “Perhaps,
the fact that the paper went against its own rules of not quoting anonymous
sources is because it believed that Gibson’s movie is anti-Semitic. As you
know, I don’t get involved in these matters, I let the people run their lives,
I only make my judgment at the very end.”
“Do you think that Gibson’s movie, The Passion of the Christ is
anti-Semitic?” I asked. “Here, we have two elements: on one side, the conviction
by the Christians that the Jews harmed one of their own and, on the other,
Jews are too sensitive. If they hadn’t made the movie into an international
case, it would have died of natural causes.” “But, how do you know when something
perceived as propaganda can actually turn out to be harmful? In the past, many
thought of Nazi propaganda as harmless until it became deadly!” “This is something
that I’d rather humans figure out by themselves. In a certain way, I’m against
the ’big brother’ concept of controlling everything.”
“What’s the story with
music director John Debney of Spy Kids fame,
who reportedly claims that while writing the score for Passion the devil
messed up his computer?” “Ah, helel! Who the Romans called Lucifer.
I’m not interested. I didn’t speak with the guy since, as you’ve read in Isaiah
14:12, he fell from heaven.”
“Please tell me, do you find Gibson’s movie too violent?” “Only
if you watch it on the big screen,” He said. “If you watch it on TV,
the violence is less disturbing.” And with that, he disappeared inside the
nearby Fox Plaza. There wasn’t a goodbye and no prospect for another chat.
In a way I’d be envious of Rev. Robertson if weren’t for the fact that envy
is one of the capital sins, but then again isn’t that what motivates Hollywood?
Dom
Serafini
