God never drinks coffee after lunch because coffee late in the day makes him feel jittery. God worries that if he were ever to set foot on solid ground after having an afternoon cup of Joe, he could cause a series of earthquakes so powerful that they would threaten the destruction of human civilization. Such a thing has never happened, mind you, but that doesn’t stop God from worrying about it. Besides, God doesn’t feel like himself if he fails to get a good night’s sleep.

Dear God,

I like to buy a bottle of clean, cold water every morning to bring to work so that I can be confident about what I put in my body, and feel replenished. However, I have a lot of friends who say that I shouldn’t buy bottled water at all. They say that making the bottles and shipping the water adds to air pollution that comes down and makes water around the world a lot dirtier.

I’m confused. Should I buy bottled water or not?

- Anniston

Anniston,

I refuse to drink bottled water, myself.

I eat it. Bottled water is a lovely treat - crunchy on the outside, smooth and refreshing on the inside.

Why waste the bottle?

- God

A little-known fact about God:

God has decided to allow the human species to survive. However, this decision was not made out of compassion, but because God realizes that humans might one day be the source of a new generation of medications that could cure diseases like avian flu. God hates to see chickens with the sniffles.

Dear God,

I was reading this web site called Christian Odyssey, and they had a web page about how to tell if a person has really been genuinely called by you to go do missionary work. One of the things that they said was that, “One of the reasons we crave to do something ‘great’ for God is that we are unsure of how we stand with him, and we hope that if we do something ‘great’ like move to a faraway corner of the earth and be a missionary, God will like us more and we can feel better about our relationship with him.”

Is it true, God? Do you really like people just fine as they are, or do you like us better if we do something ‘great’ and move to a faraway corner of the earth?

- Stan

Stan,

Yes. I admit it. I would like you more if you would go away, Stan.

- God

Dear God,

I am taking a class at my college in which we learn about classical Hinduism. It’s fascinating, but it’s leading me to ask many questions I never could have imagined - questions about you.

In the Mahabharata, the great spiritual epic of the Hindu tradition, there is a passage that describes a supreme, ultimate being: “Isana, to whom multitudes make offerings, and who is adored by the multitude; who is the true incorruptible one, Brahma, perceptible, imperceptible, eternal; who is both a non-existing and an existing-non-existing being; who is the universe and also distinct from the existing and non-existing universe; who is the creator of high and low; the ancient, exalted, inexhaustible one; who is Vishnu, beneficent and the beneficence itself, worthy of all preference, pure and immaculate; who is Hari, the ruler of the faculties, the guide of all things movable and immovable.”

God, this sounds a lot like you. What’s the difference between you and Isana?

- Penelope

Penelope,

I’m saddened that you have to even ask this question. There are lots of differences. Isana has red hair, whereas I’m bald. I love sardines, but Isana doesn’t. I’m shorter than Isana, but Isana has more of a belly. That’s just for starters.

Incidentally, did you notice that the description of Isana that you cited doesn’t call Isana “both corrupt and incorruptible”? There’s a reason for that. Isana had a little run-in with the IRS a few years ago. Some say it was just an indirect way to try to bust him on charges of drug dealing.

- God

Dear God,

I have been going through some difficult times in my life, and I have tried to turn to you for help. So far, though, you have not helped me. I have refused to be discouraged, and I keep on searching. My quest has been to understand, as I suffer, what God really wants from me, and why he has made me endure such suffering.

Then, yesterday, I came across some writings by the Reverend Earnest Anderson. Reverend Anderson writes, “God wants us to have a spiritual growth spurt. He wants us more mature like His Son so that we can play a bigger part in His eternal purposes.”

Well, that told me all I needed to know. But, now I’m angry at you, God. It seems that you only value us human beings as some kind of livestock, so that you can fatten us up for the slaughter.

You feed us hope, so that we can have a “spiritual growth spurt”, but in the end, you intend to treat us just like you treated Jesus. You’re going to kill all your followers, in one form or another, through automobile accidents, or cancer, or alzheimer’s, and you’re going to get your spiritual nutrition from our suffering as we parish.

God, you are like a vampire. I’m on to your schemes. So now, I want you to tell me what I have to do to fend off your sadistic sacrificial plans. Tell me, or I’ll spill the beans.

- Andrew

Andrew,

Well, it’s the same thing as with vampires, really. Garlic.

If you want to be free from the curse of suffering and death, you must wear a clove of fresh garlic around your neck at all times. Never let yourself be free of that clove of garlic, however - not even for a second, even to take a shower. The minute you let your guard down, you will be subject to my curse again.

I’ll be watching and waiting, Andrew, for you to let that garlic slip out of your grasp. I’m going to get you, Andrew, and then your spiritual growth spurt will be mine to feast upon, slowly, savoring every last morsel.

- God

Dear God,

I am studying agriculture, and one of the things that’s being discussed is interplanting. The idea is that a field will be more productive if more than one crop is planted in the same field. The idea is that insect pests and plant diseases will have a more difficult time getting a strong hold and devastating an entire crop if one plant is mixed in with others. The fertility of the soil is also supposed to be preserved, and soil erosion is decreased.

In spite of all of this, I read in the Book of Leviticus that you forbid interplanting in agriculture. You prescribe monoculture, just one kind of seed planted in any field. This is one of those commandments that’s never included in the popular list of the Ten Commandments, but there it is: “Thou shalt not sow thy field with mingled seed”.

Why not? Why are you so strongly opposed to anything but monoculture?

- Bart

Bart,

The essential issue is strip malls. I like strip malls. I really like it when you can go between different cities and find the same store in similar strip malls. The consistency is really nice. One store looks pretty much like another, and that’s soothing to my sensibilities.

You have to understand the historical context of Leviticus. Back when Leviticus was written, humanity was not technologically or culturally prepared for strip malls, so I had to prepare the way for the coming of the strip mall.

Agriculture was a great way to train people, to get them ready to build strip malls, when the time was right. Getting all one kind of plant grown in one field at a time, in row after row of identical plants, got rid of all the nasty unexpected scattering found in nature. It was a preparation for factories to mass produce the items to fill up the dollar stores and chain stores all over the world, just one item from one factory, sent out everywhere.

If you have fields with interplanted crops, well, you might as well just have merchants setting up booths to sell whatever they’ve got wherever they can find a place to sell it. Do you know what that leads to?

It leads to haggling. Haggling is next to godlessness.

- God

Dear God,

I’m a bit confused with this nun thing you’ve got going on.

I was reading The Golden Bough, by James Frazer, and a passage gave me pause: “Mukasa, the god of the Victoria Nyanza lake, who was propitiated by the Baganda every time they undertook a long voyage, had virgins provided for him to serve as his wives. Like the Vestals they were bound to chastity.”

I read that, and I thought, “Well, why doesn’t the Christian God have virgins like that?” Then I realized that you do. All those nuns, the Christian virgins that are described as the wives of God.

What do you want a bunch of virgins for?

- Ted

Ted,

It’s a little vanity piece, really. When we gods get together, we like to compare our collections of virgins.

For example, last night, I had Nodutus over for dinner. Not a lot of people know who Nodutus is. He’s the god of tying knots in the stalks of wheat plants. No kidding. Go look it up.

Well, naturally, our conversation turned to virgins. “I’ve got a new set,” Nodutus said to me, “over in the Ukraine. They’re dancing virgins, and they’ve all had breast enhancement surgery. They’re chaste - lap dances only - but man, are they built.”

Nodutus is, in my opinion, rather coarse in his taste of virgins. Nonetheless, he knows where my vulnerable spots are, and he hit hard last night. We were having custard for desert when Nodutus asked me, right out of the blue, “How come all your virgins wear sensible shoes?”

I didn’t know what to say. Here I am, the creator of the universe, and I’m supposedly all powerful, but I still can’t get my virgins to wear anything but comfortable shoes. One of these days, I’m going to trade my nuns in for something more up to date, but the truth is that I have a lot of trouble keeping track of the latest fashions in virgins. I suppose if you’re a god who doesn’t have anything to do but tie knots in the stalks of grain, then you can spend most of your days going virgin shopping. Me, I’m more busy than that.

- God

Dear God,

My family always goes down to Florida on vacation in April, but this year we are having a difficult time deciding where exactly to go. My son wants to go to the Florida Keys and go snorkeling, but my daughter wants to the Universal Theme Park in Orlando, which has a new ride, Revenge of the Mummy. Here’s what they say about the ride: “Plunge into total darkness as you face fireballs, scarab beetles, and an army of warrior mummies on a psychological thrill ride totally unlike anything that’s come along in the past 3,000 years!”

I’m having a hard time choosing. Where would you go?

- Denise

Denise,

As God, the all-powerful ruler of the Universe, I have to say that theme park rides don’t amuse me very much. Facing fireballs, beetles, or even an army of warrior mummies is no big deal to me. I can always just snap my fingers, and they disappear. What’s the point?

Of course, you’re not a family of divine beings. You’re human. That makes me want to ask you: Why would you pay to go someplace where you’re going to be attacked with fireballs, swarms of beetles, and be chased by an army of warrior mummies?

I do have to give this much credit to the Universal Theme Park, however. They’ve got their history down pat. They’re absolutely correct when they call the Revenge of the Mummy ride “totally unlike anything that’s come along in the past 3,000 years.” 3,000 years ago, in ancient egypt, there was a roller coaster thrill ride just like the one they’ve made in Orlando - down to the last detail.

So, if you’re in the mood for historical re-enactment, go to the Universal Theme Park. Otherwise, go snorkeling in the waters of the Florida Keys. I had to provide sneak peeks into the future, but I am willing to tell you that the coral reefs there are only going to last another 20 years or so, and then they’ll be bleached into oblivion by rising ocean temperatures. See the little fish while you can.

- God

Dear God,

A lot of people are saying that Eliot Spitzer did the wrong thing by paying a prostitute over four thousand dollars for a sexual encounter. A lot of people say that what Mr. Spitzer did was against God’s laws.

Well, God, is it true? Is what Eliot Spitzer did against your moral laws?

- Marvin

Marvin,

Consider the advice I gave to Hosea, which was written down in the following story:

“Said the LORD unto me, go yet, love a woman beloved of her friend, yet an adulteress, according to the love of the LORD toward the children of Israel, who look to other gods, and love flagons of wine, so I bought her to me for fifteen pieces of silver, and for a homer of barley, and a half homer of barley, and I said unto her, Thou shalt abide for me many days.”

You see, prostitution itself is clearly not against my moral laws. I told Hosea to go and buy a woman, and he did so, and that was fine with me.

My problem with Eliot Spitzer is that he had no sense of proportion. He did the wrong thing because he wasted money on that prostitute of his. I clearly set the holy price for a prostitute: Pay 15 pieces of silver, and a homer and a half of barley, and not a homer of barley more - and that’s for “many days,” not just a one-time encounter.

Eliot Spitzer couldn’t keep his homers to himself, and now look what’s happened to him. If he had just gone and hired a cheap hooker, he never would have gotten in trouble. The IRS never investigates an ATM withdrawal of 100 dollars.

- God

Dear God,

Last year, my husband and I moved into our neighborhood because it seemed like such a friendly place. What we didn’t know is that the neighbors would be so friendly that we couldn’t have a social life of our own.

Every evening, one of our neighbors stops in to say hi. Usually, it’s just around the time that we’re about to eat, or to go to sleep, or just sit down and watch the television. They knock on the door and then come right in, as if they’re welcome.

Now I wish that we had never moved here. How can we avoid our friendly neighbors so that we can finally have some peace?

- Etta

Etta,

There are many options available to you.

1. Lay tacks on the sidewalk leading to your door.

2. Don’t talk when your neighbors visit. Just put your hand to your throat, and then shrug, and just look at your neighbors while they talk, until their leave.

3. Put a sign on your door reading “Emergency sewage problem”.

4. Make sure that your husband calls every female neighbor who visits “pretty lady”, while he smiles at you knowingly.

5. Don’t mow the lawn. Ever.

6. Whenever you see your neighbors coming toward your door, get out your cell phone, and put it up next to your ear. Whenever your neighbor tries to say anything, put your finger up in the air.

7. When talking with your neighbors, end every sentence with the phrase, “In a manner of speaking”.

8. Institute a mandatory visitor water balloon fight policy.

9. Offer your neighbors something to drink, and then hand them a glass full of tabouli.

10. Every five minutes, interrupt the conversation by holding up your hand, cocking your ear to the side, and saying “Hold on a minute”.

11. Whenever your neighbors ask you a question, get out an Eight Ball and shake it for a response.

12. Tell your neighbors, “I’m just going to check my email,” then go get in your car and have a drink at the local bar.

You get the idea

- God

- God

Dear God,

In the Song of Solomon, you left some work undone. You wrote, “Love is strong as death”, but you never said how strong death is.

I’d like to know more about the true nature of love, and so I need to ask you: How strong is death?

- Peter

Peter,

Many people read that passage incorrectly. They think that I mean that love has a grip that is as strong as the grip of death, but that’s not what I meant. Anyone who has witnessed the way of love over time knows that.

Death is not truly strong. It is a passive state of perfect weakness. Think of it this way: When was the last time you ever saw a dead man get up and do a hard day’s work, or even something as easy as washing the dishes?

Love is as strong as death, yes, which is to say that it is weak, a state of passive decay that smells worse the longer that it persists.

- God