God is not an old man. Of course it would be quite ridiculous to expect demiurge to be anything resembling classical image from Dore woodcuts. Beard? Toga? Come on! But who is He then? There are some people who could be considered experts in that matter for various reasons. The Death, because he knows everything. Angel Castiel because he spent three years recently searching for his father, before trying to replace him. Chuck Shirley, because he is the last true Prophet to walk the Earth and because he is God. But saying that Chuck equals God would be just as erroneous as imagining Him as white bearded man in closes that went out of fashion two thousand years ago. Mainly because he is one third of the whole and there are two other unaccounted parts of God walking around, messing with creation and generally rooting for free will. There is the Word, watching his children making bad choices and good choices and stupid choices. There is the Father cheating in the game he sent in motion at the beginning of time: stray resurrection there and a pinch of luck here. And of course there is the Son. The only one who can’t help himself but mingle down in the mud, the one who never could leave humanity alone, the one who always ends up sacrificing himself because if not him, then who? His second coming was hot topic since he went upstairs. Thousand upon thousand books and debates and prophesies – and all of them wrong. Because ultimately it was his choice and his choice alone, when Heaven started to lose faith and Earth stood on the verge of burning in the War that wasn’t its own. How he could do nothing? He left Heaven; he fell on Earth to humanity like he had two thousand years before that. He didn’t want to rob his favorite children of they free will, so he embraced humankind tighter than ever before, leaving behind everything that wasn’t mortal in him. He was born to a simple girl named Mary, well, some habits die hard. She had a husband. John this time. He was her second child and no one noticed Immaculate Conception. They named him Sam, a family name. Twenty seven years later he was in Hell again, only this time he didn’t remember the way out, he was for all intent and purpose just human and there were two angry archangels right there with him. His children, his brothers, his tormentors. They hate him, but not for things that truly deserve it. He hates them too, when he is the one to blame in the end. And there is no place for love between the three of them. They cut his human soul, and they punishment for him is the worst that Heaven or Hell or Earth ever could come up with. Years upon years of blood and tears and violation. Word drinks himself under the table. And Father… In end Father calls favors with Death and gives Righteous Man more luck then he deserves. It’s too late.
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timeasmymeasure
hi! long time no.. e-er... fill!
Date: 2012-03-29 08:41 pm (UTC)Trinity
God is not an old man. Of course it would be quite ridiculous to expect demiurge to be anything resembling classical image from Dore woodcuts. Beard? Toga? Come on!
But who is He then?
There are some people who could be considered experts in that matter for various reasons. The Death, because he knows everything. Angel Castiel because he spent three years recently searching for his father, before trying to replace him. Chuck Shirley, because he is the last true Prophet to walk the Earth and because he is God. But saying that Chuck equals God would be just as erroneous as imagining Him as white bearded man in closes that went out of fashion two thousand years ago. Mainly because he is one third of the whole and there are two other unaccounted parts of God walking around, messing with creation and generally rooting for free will.
There is the Word, watching his children making bad choices and good choices and stupid choices.
There is the Father cheating in the game he sent in motion at the beginning of time: stray resurrection there and a pinch of luck here.
And of course there is the Son. The only one who can’t help himself but mingle down in the mud, the one who never could leave humanity alone, the one who always ends up sacrificing himself because if not him, then who? His second coming was hot topic since he went upstairs. Thousand upon thousand books and debates and prophesies – and all of them wrong. Because ultimately it was his choice and his choice alone, when Heaven started to lose faith and Earth stood on the verge of burning in the War that wasn’t its own. How he could do nothing? He left Heaven; he fell on Earth to humanity like he had two thousand years before that. He didn’t want to rob his favorite children of they free will, so he embraced humankind tighter than ever before, leaving behind everything that wasn’t mortal in him. He was born to a simple girl named Mary, well, some habits die hard. She had a husband. John this time. He was her second child and no one noticed Immaculate Conception. They named him Sam, a family name. Twenty seven years later he was in Hell again, only this time he didn’t remember the way out, he was for all intent and purpose just human and there were two angry archangels right there with him. His children, his brothers, his tormentors.
They hate him, but not for things that truly deserve it. He hates them too, when he is the one to blame in the end. And there is no place for love between the three of them.
They cut his human soul, and they punishment for him is the worst that Heaven or Hell or Earth ever could come up with. Years upon years of blood and tears and violation.
Word drinks himself under the table.
And Father… In end Father calls favors with Death and gives Righteous Man more luck then he deserves.
It’s too late.