[ WP ] You have just died and are now face to face with God . You ask him if what we know about him and the Bible is true . He says no not at all . Document the conversation .

`` No, not at all.'' 
 
 `` Not at all? What do you mean?'' 
 
 `` I mean the whole Bible, totally wrong. Old Testament, New Testament, Pseudepigrapha, Apocrypha,'' God ranted, his aggravation clearly expressed in wild gesticulations, `` And all the more modern interpretations that have come out of spiritual syntheses..and pipedreams..and the ravings of cult leaders and schizophrenics. All completely bonkers!'' He softened after a moment and brought a hand up to stroke his beard. `` A few of them have gotten close though,'' he mused. `` It's funny, really. Science gives me less and less places to hide, and so do the faithful, and they're both wrong.'' He sighed a small chuckle and wistfully gazed out across the landscape. 
 
 All of a sudden he seemed deep in thought, and I forgotten. I hesitated to break the silence, yet as I tried to remain patient I wondered awkwardly how long it might take until a god broke their own silence. It could be forever. On the other hand, I did n't appear to have anything else to do, or anywhere else to go. Truly, this is what being dead felt like. 
 
 `` So, what's your best guess then?'' God spoke in the direction he gazed before turning to look back at me. `` I'll tell you how close you get.'' 
 
 My awkwardness was now compounded tenfold. `` I, er, have n't really given it much thought.'' 
 
 `` Well we have all the time in the world. Or out of the world. Just give it your best, that's all I ask.'' 
 
 `` Ok, but wait.'' God raised his eyebrows indulgently, a small smile on his face. `` If everyone has always been wrong, does that mean that whatever answer I can come up with will be wrong too? Is it possible to be right?'' 
 
 `` Not at all. People have described me before as being ineffable. Which, as the logic follows, means that I can, in fact, be effed. It's just that no one has hit the nose yet.'' 
 
 `` Ok,'' I mumbled, and tried to muster some confidence. Then I had another question. `` What about when people refer to you metaphorically, does that count?'' 
 
 `` If we're thinking of the same thing then no. Much too vague.'' 
 
 `` Ok. Interesting,'' I drew myself up, to convince myself more than He. `` So, if, if everyone has always been wrong about you, that would mean that you're neither all-powerful nor not-all-powerful, and the same with your omniscience. You are not the Creator, nor do you comprise some essence of the universe, you do not represent truth or goodness, nor do you have any special covenant with man. Oh, wait, that means you did not make us in your image either. So why do I see you like that?'' 
 
 `` Ah, there's a trick to that but I'm not giving you any hints.'' 
 
 `` Oh. Ah, you mean, you did not make us, someone else did. And they made us in your image. Which would explain Jesus not being your son either.'' 
 
 `` Hm, you are clever. Go on.'' 
 
 `` No, I think I've got it.'' 
 
 `` My my! Slow starter but clearly not just a pretty face!'' 
 
 `` Well it all came together when I remembered Acts 17:25, which says: **'Nor is He served by human hands, as though He needed anything, since He Himself gives to all people life and breath and all things.'** I mean the second part is clear enough, just look at the world as it is, it's pretty miserable. But the first part would mean that you are served by us, and you do *need* something. So, taking everything else together, here's my idea.'' 
 
 `` Yes, I'm listening.'' 
 
 `` The Universe was created for you by someone else, and all of the things inside it as well. You were placed here, and left alone, which means that you are all-powerful here but that's only relative because it's your universe and whoever created it for you is actually more powerful but they're not here. Furthermore, they gave you the Earth and humanity in your image and left you alone to care for us. You do n't have a covenant with us, but you are beholden to the one that put you here. My Lord, you are *doing time*!'' 
 
 God's lips were pressed together in a grim expression, his eyes narrow and hooded. I hesitated to continue, but realised that really, I had nothing to lose. 
 
 `` The universe is your prison. You have to take care of us, for how long I do n't know. Maybe forever, as long as forever lasts here. We look and act just as you do because that makes you identify with us, you ca n't help but be involved with our progress. If you do n't take care of us, and learn from all our faults, and reconcile yourself with whatever crime you committed or other reason why you were put here, then you'll never get out. Whatever happens to us after that, I do n't know.'' 
 
 I stopped then, having run out my train of thought. God, with the same expression on his face, nodded, stepped closer, and put a hand on my shoulder. He leaned forward and murmured in my ear. 
 
 `` Almost.'' 
 
 And he sent me on my way.
