By Travis K. Kircher
What would you do if you were God?
You’re not of course. And neither am I. But let’s say you were.
I mean, let’s admit it: Deep down, there are times when we want to be. There are times when we act like we are. There are times when I want to “set the world straight” – when I’d love to have things turn out exactly the way I want them to go. And when they don’t go that way, I have a god-sized temper tantrum.
So let’s imagine for a minute that you are God. (It’s not that hard, in a world full of Marvel movies.) Imagine that you are omnipotent. That you have all power over the space-time continuum, and that you can speak anything you want into existence. Anything you desire is at your disposal. What would you do? What would you create? What would the world be like?
It’s fun to think about. Here are some basic ideas I came up with:
- I would have my own airplane. Nothing too fancy – just my own Cessna 172. And Citation jet. Maybe even a Piper Warrior. (I’d like to have both a high-wing and a low-wing.) Of course I’d have to maintain it, but that’s what mechanics are for – and I’d create a bunch of them.
- My own fishing boat, complete with unlimited amounts of waxworms and a tackle box filled with the latest and greatest lures. Not to mention a big lake filled with fish that spawn year-round. I’d create someone to clean and maintain the lake, and tie my boat off when I’m done.
- Perfect weather. And I mean 70 degrees, with sunshine all the time – except for the occasional exciting storm here or there.
- I wouldn’t mind a horse. Maybe even a few horses. And some stablehands to run my barn.
- I would create an army of chefs who would make my favorite foods for three meals a day. There would be lasagna, spaghetti and meatballs, fettuccini alfredo, turkey and dressing, lots of fried chicken. And chocolate cake. Lots and lots of chocolate cake.
- Directors who would make hundreds of new Star Wars movies – but all of these movies would be good. No more “Phantom Menace” experiences. Jar Jar Binks would be eliminated from the space-time continuum – all memories of him erased.
- I’d resurrect J.R.R. Tolkien and have him write more Hobbit books.
- A sportscar. And a tank.
- Since we’re going full-out – this is a hypothetical after all – I’d create a rocket big enough to take me to Mars. I’d create a whole staff of mission controllers who could oversee my Mars mission, and even a cadre of media folks with laptops to interview me when I make my victorious landing. Come to think if it, I’ll probably need a biographer as well, to emphasize my humble beginnings and self-deprecating humor.
You get the idea. Life would be great! I’d have everything I wanted – and all of the people I would need to make it happen. In fact, I would be the life of the party! Everyone would laugh at my jokes! They’d give me whatever I wanted, whether it be companionship, technical expertise, art, humor, good food, or just plain good service.
It would be all about me.
It’s fun to think about. In fact, there was a Twilight Zone episode made about this.
Anyway, that’s what I would do if I was God.
I’ll tell you what I wouldn’t do.
I wouldn’t create an entire race of people completely dependent upon me.
I wouldn’t put up with millions of voices constantly crying out to me for help or guidance. I wouldn’t listen to tearful prayers desperately uttered over and over and over again in darkened hospital rooms, or lonely foxholes in the dead of night. That would give me a headache.
I wouldn’t protect a group of people as I led them into the wilderness, feeding them water from a rock and manna from the sky — Every. Single. Day. — just so they could come to know me personally.
I wouldn’t call them my children. I’d call them my slaves. (Oh – did I actually SAY that out loud? I meant my employees.)
I wouldn’t count the hairs on their heads. Ain’t nobody got time for that.
I wouldn’t say things to them like, “Oh Jerusalem…how often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings… (Matt. 27:37).” I’m not a bird.
I wouldn’t put on a waistcloth and wash their feet.
I wouldn’t heal their sick and feed their hungry. I wouldn’t be “moved with compassion” for them.
I wouldn’t weep for them.
And I sure as heck wouldn’t die for them.
No. No way. Not in a million years.
Now stop and think for a minute. All the things I just listed that I wouldn’t do? That’s exactly what God did for us.
My edicts – the commands I would give if I was God – say a lot about me. Things I don’t like to think about.
But, much more importantly, what God has already done for us says a lot about Him.
Be thankful that He is God, and I am not.
I’m not joking. That truly is a blessing – because if I were God, your life would be a living hell. Assuming you were born at all. (That would depend on whether I could find a “use” for you.)
Life would be all about me. And as such, it would be excruciatingly boring. Both for me, and you.
That’s not false humility by the way. I’m glad you’re not in charge either. No offense, but you’d make a crummy god too.
Who would YOU want to spend eternity with? The God who loves you so much he laid down EVERYTHING for you? The God who deserves all worship and honor and praise, but who instead came to earth to serve? The God who humbled Himself, took up His cross and led? The God who takes time to be intimately aware of everything happening in your life, down to the number of hairs on your head and what breakfast cereal you had this morning? The God who promises to one day – personally, individually – wipe every tear from the eyes of his children?
Or the god who would cheerfully throw you a washrag and tell you to wipe down his fishing boat?
Someone – I wish I could remember who – once said that the most unselfish thing an omnipotent, all powerful being could do is to create a bunch of beings totally dependent on Him.
A billion mouths to feed.
That’s what God did for us. And if I were able to step out of myself and see myself in the third person – if I could see Travis Kircher standing next to the God of the Bible – I know who I would rather spend eternity with.
In the plan of salvation, there’s no doubt about it: I come out on top. I get to spend eternity with Jesus. I get the better end of the deal.
Conversely, Jesus “gets” to spend eternity with me. In fact, He died to make that happen. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why. I’m not that amazing. I certainly wouldn’t die for me – and if you were honest, you wouldn’t either. But I’m so glad He did.
You know what? I’ll take it. In a heartbeat. To be honest, I think He’s getting the short end of the stick, here. He’s not exactly breaking even in this deal.
Don’t tell Him, okay?
Copyright 2019 by A Log by the Fire. All rights reserved.
P.S. – He died for you too. There’s something you should know about that.