For Lack of A Higher Purpose

A divine drama by Thorin N. Tatge

CHARACTERS

 
SYDNEY: A crabby but open-minded existentialist.  Male or female.
BIRCH: A mostly friendly male guardian lizard.  Must be able to read on all fours.
GOD: A confused and wishy-washy diety.
NIFF: A cheerful angel.
JAMIEL: A steadfast angelic guard.

NIFF and SYDNEY start offstage left.  SYDNEY enters and walks to center stage.  He looks around in befuddlement for a few moments.

SYDNEY (anguished): Why am I here?  What for?  What is my purpose?  What is it all about?

NIFF (offstage left): The hokey-pokey!  That’s what it’s all about!

SYDNEY (panicked): What?  Oh God, you can’t be serious!  Not that stupid little dance!  I lived my life all wrong!  Oh, God!  (Leaves to stage right.)

NIFF (running on stage): Hey wait, I was just kidding!  And I’m not speaking for God, I’m just an ordinary angel on my off hours.  You can call me Niff.  Wait up!

NIFF runs off after SYDNEY.

Enter JAMIEL.  JAMIEL goes to center stage and stands tall, pretending to hold a staff, and stands guard proudly.  After a moment, enter BIRCH, who remains on hand(s) and knees whenever possible.  JAMIEL does not look at him much even during their conversation.

BIRCH: Ho, Jamiel.  All’s clear?

JAMIEL: Yes, all’s clear, lizard.  Not a demon in the realm, nothing bleak in my sights, nothing getting past me.  But what about our Lord, eh?  What’s got to him?

BIRCH: It’s sad, really.  We may be witnessing the end of an aeon.

JAMIEL: What, how’s that?

BIRCH: We may be done with.  God’s been saying the great experiment of existence may be complete.  Saying he may have figured out what he wanted to know.

JAMIEL: Oh no, you don’t say?  Is he serious?

BIRCH: Is he serious?  What kind of a question is that to ask about the Lord God?

JAMIEL: Oh, come on, Birch lizard.  I know the fellow as well as you do.  He’s been reading a lot of Nietzsche lately.

BIRCH: Yes, well… all right, no, he’s not serious.  He’s just saying things to provoke us.  You know how it’s been.

JAMIEL: I pity the One mind, all tangled up with something so high we can’t guess at it.  His productivity’s suffering, that’s one thing I’m worried about.

BIRCH: Well, look at it this way.  Productivity is only a good thing because once upon a time, God declared it was.  And ever since then, companies have been hiring efficiency experts and streamlining processes, and Satan got a hold of the idle-mind market… not that it’s my place to criticize, of course, but—

JAMIEL: No, that it’s not.

BIRCH: Well.

Enter NIFF, who bows to each in turn.

NIFF: Jamiel.  Birch.

JAMIEL: Well met, Niff.

BIRCH: What is it?

NIFF: There’s a freed soul who wants to see God.

BIRCH: What’s new about that?  Half the dead people who come here want to meet their maker, at least for a little while.  Send it to the God-lookalike in some department store.  That’s what they’re there for.

NIFF: No, I won’t do it.  I’ve deceived billions of souls to save good old God a patch of wear and tear, but this time I won’t.  This soul is truly anguished.  (He/she) is existentially racked, and it’s not just posing.  (He/she) deserves answers, good answers, to the important questions.

JAMIEL: Clear off, Niff.  You’re overstepping.

NIFF: I shall not.

BIRCH: Jamiel, this might be good for everyone.  It’s all right, Niff.  Send the freed soul in.

NIFF: Right then.  (Calls offstage): Sydney!

Enter SYDNEY.

SYDNEY: This is where God lives?

NIFF: God doesn’t need to live.  He’s above that.

SYDNEY: Oh, right.  So… can I go right in?

JAMIEL: First you must state your business to me.

SYDNEY: Oh yeah?  Who are you?

NIFF: Trust me, Syd.  You don’t want to mess with the guard.

SYDNEY: Or what?

BIRCH: Or you get punished.

SYDNEY: I’m already dead!  What punishment would you give me?

BIRCH: Maybe I’d just eat you.

SYDNEY: But I’d still be here, right?  I can’t die again.

BIRCH: Are you so sure?

SYDNEY: What are you, anyway?  Some big komodo dragon?

BIRCH: I’m an archangel.  I was created in the image of lizards, but fiercer and stronger.  (Leans threateningly.)  See my teeth?  They’re sharp, and they can’t be chipped.  Not by anything.

SYDNEY: They’re indestructable?

BIRCH: Perfectly so.  God went all the way when he made me.  Back then he really cared about his security.  But nowadays it looks like anybody can get in to see him.

JAMIEL: Not without stating their business first!

SYDNEY: Who’s this?  Your fellow guard?

BIRCH: That’s Jamiel.

SYDNEY: Well, has Jamiel got any special powers?

JAMIEL: I am a Power.

BIRCH: Jamiel is a Power.

SYDNEY: And I’m a fruit-bat.

NIFF: No, you’re an angsty little soul.  I think you’re cute.

JAMIEL: The Powers are the sixth rank of angels.  We protect the world from the forces of evil, and show uncertain souls the true light.

SYDNEY: What’s the true light?

JAMIEL: When you lived on Earth, did you own a multideck sound system?

SYDNEY: Um… yeah.

JAMIEL: Well, you know that little light that goes on when you turn the power off?

SYDNEY: Yeah?

JAMIEL: That’s the true light.

SYDNEY: That’s the true light?

JAMIEL: That’s right.

NIFF: No, that’s just the Bud Light.

BIRCH: Don’t listen to them, Sydney.  Let me see if I’ve got you straight.  You’ve come here to talk to God because you want to know what the universe is for, right?  What the purpose of life is, and all that?

SYDNEY: Yeah, that’s right!

BIRCH: Right… the thing is, God’s been feeling a little existential Himself recently.  I happen to be one of his better friends, and He’s been asking me the same sort of thing.  “Why do I do it?” he asks.  “What’s it all for in the end?  Should I start over?  Should I give up?”  It gets really nerve-wracking sometimes.  I don’t have the answers… maybe he’s right, and it’s all pointless.  But can I really advise Him to destroy everything in creation, including myself and everything I’ve ever known?  Could that possibly be the right thing to do?

NIFF: What about you, Birch?  Do you feel like your existence has a purpose?

BIRCH: Of course I do!  I’m an archangel—I watch over the angels and supervise the transmission of information… and I keep God company in his darker hours.  I’m proud to do all that… I have a purpose.  Don’t you feel that way, Niff.

NIFF: Sure do!

JAMIEL: And I.

BIRCH: Any healthy creature learns to feel that way over time.

SYDNEY: I don’t think that’s true at all.

NIFF: Well, maybe you’re not entirely healthy.

SYDNEY: Granted… but what about God?  Are you saying the supreme being of the universe isn’t healthy?

BIRCH: It doesn’t mean anything for Him.  He’s not a creature.  He wasn’t made for any function or purpose, since He was never made.  So how can anyone know what it is for Him to be healthy?

SYDNEY: I see your point.  But can I go in and talk to him myself?

BIRCH: What do you think, Jamiel?

JAMIEL: Sure, go on in.  See if you can do better than Birch lizard at cheering the old codger.

SYDNEY: Fine, I’ll do my best.

All leave stage.  Enter GOD.  GOD sits center stage and plays games by tangling his fingers together.  After a few moments, enter SYDNEY.

SYDNEY: Um… excuse me.

GOD (not looking): Yeah?

SYDNEY: Are you the Lord God, ruler of all the world?

GOD: Yep, that’s me.  Got some questions for me?

SYDNEY: Well, yes.  Mind if I sit down?

GOD (looking at SYDNEY): Do you really think I would mind?

SYDNEY: Well, you know, maybe it wouldn’t be respectful.

GOD: Be respectful.  Be disrespectful.  I don’t care.  I’ll make a note of it and lose it somewhere.  I’ve seen respectful at it’s best.  I’ve seen reverent.  I’ve seen awed, glorious, venerating… I’ve seen disrespectful too, a lot more disrespectful than you.  So don’t worry about it.

SYDNEY: Well… okay.  (Sits down near GOD.)  But I guess that’s kind of one of my questions.  Do we get treated better if we worship you in the way set down in your Scripture?

GOD: Oh, heck, I don’t know.  I haven’t honestly decided yet.

SYDNEY: You haven’t?

GOD: No, not really.  I mean, Satan claims some souls, but the rest all come here.  Some are just as evil as you please, but I take all I can get.  I just drop them wherever I’ve got room and put off thinking about what I’m going to do to them.

SYDNEY: Will there be a Judgment Day?

GOD: Well, I’m thinking maybe, yeah.  I mean, that’d be cool, right?  We could get all kinds of silver tinsel and ribbons and everything strewn over the skies, and play trumpets and fire cannons and stuff like that, and then make a big ordeal out of judging each person.  I could maybe get some famous personalities to be Judges.  What do you think of Kathleen Turner?

SYDNEY: Oh, God, I hope you’re not for real.

GOD: What’s more real than me?  I mean, honestly.  Who are you to be questioning me?  What’ll you ask me that I haven’t already asked myself?

SYDNEY: What’s the purpose of the universe?  Why did you create it?

GOD (sighing): Right, right.  Well, to begin with it was about good and evil.  I wanted to create beings who had wills apart from my own, to see what they would do and whether they would worship me just the same.

SYDNEY: And?

GOD: Well… duh, you know?  Some did and some didn’t.  So there was my answer.

SYDNEY: Didn’t you have other questions?

GOD: Well, not really, but after I’d gone to all that trouble, I started getting fond of some things I’d made, so I played around a little bit… began to dabble.  Some things make me curious, you know?  But in the end… what’s the point?  Now I have all this information about people and stars and things… what do I do with the information?

SYDNEY: I don’t know… what do you feel like doing with it?  Replacing all of existence?

GOD: I don’t know, maybe.  If I do, what do I replace it with?  I mean, what is there besides existence?  I came up with that one cool idea… but I’m not sure I could do it again.  So I’m afraid to destroy everything.

SYDNEY: Well, this is just great.  Somehow, I knew it.  God’s a putz.

GOD: I am not a putz!

SYDNEY: You putz around all the time, you’re a putz.

GOD: Get real.  What am I supposed to do?

SYDNEY: Well, what do you even want?

GOD: I don’t know.  I guess… I want something for me to hang onto.  I want someone to give me a goal…someone to tell me what to do when I don’t feel like doing anything.

SYDNEY: Well, damn.  You want a god-damn self-motivated father figure.

GOD: I guess you could say that.

SYDNEY: Well, I’m sure as  hell not it.

GOD: I can see that.

SYDNEY: But you’ve made plenty of people like that!  I bet lots of people would do anything to be in your place.  Why don’t you ask one of them for advice?

GOD: Yeah… yeah, I guess that’s not such a bad idea.  Whatever.  Niff!

Enter NIFF.

NIFF: Yes, your Omnipotence?

GOD: Do you know anyone on Earth who has a purpose that doesn’t depend on anyone else?  Someone who can tell me the answers?

NIFF: Gee, I don’t know… well, I hear there’s a pretty smart bartender in St. Louis.  He’s called Clem.

GOD: Okay, good enough.  Go get him.

NIFF: You want me to kill him so he can come here?

GOD: Um… Do you have to do that?  Can’t you just bring him here still alive.

NIFF: I don’t think so… probably not.

GOD: Hmph.  Well, don’t kill him.  Just wait for him to die naturally, I guess.

NIFF: Okay, Lord.  I’ll tell you when he does.

GOD: Thanks, Niff

Exit NIFF.

SYDNEY: Well.  I guess we’ll be waiting here a while.

GOD: I guess so.  I’m used to it, though.

SYDNEY: Uh huh.  (Pause.)  Just one thing I’m wondering.  You know that lizard guard out there?  Your friend?

GOD: Archangel Birch.  What about him?

SYDNEY: You gave him really spiffy teeth.  White and sharp and indestructable, according to him.

GOD: Yeah… I thought a lizard ought to have good teeth.

SYDNEY: He seems to like them a lot.  Did you give them to him to make him happy?

GOD: I guess that was part of it.

SYDNEY: Why do you think they make him happy?  I mean, they’re just little white objects.  Why should anything like that make someone happy?

GOD: Sydney… I wish I knew.  (Faces audience.)  I wish I knew.

The End.