The cat growled and raised her hackles at the silhouettes visible through the patterned glass of the front door. Two black-suited men stood there. They hadn't knocked or used the doorbell. It was all a tad sinister but I could see that one had a clip-board and the other a very brief briefcase, these lending a hint of officialdom to the scene. Maybe they were from HMRC, maybe they were from the local police who still maintain that they're going to contact me about a string of offences that I reported to them nearly two months ago. Either way, I decided to entertain them.
Without introduction, an ID card flash or even a cheery "good morning", the larger of the two explained their presence...
"We're here to ask if there really is a God that cares for us".
Damn. No HMRC tax refund, no CSI team to sort out the local miscreants. Still, I was in the mood for another Q&A session seeing as we'd won a charity pub-quiz last night.
"Us? Do you mean just you two, or all three of us?"
"Well, everybody."
"Ah, I see. So why are you asking me?"
"Because you might have The Answer." (His emphasis)
"Seriously? You think that a middle-aged balding bloke from the English Midlands would have The Answer to one of The Fundamental Questions that has been troubling Believers for millennia?"
"Errr..."
"It's unlikely, isn't it?"
"I suppose so."
"Anyway, don't you already know The Answer?"
"Well, we believe that God cares for all of us."
"Well there you go, you've answered your own question! Your work here is done, you can have the rest of the day off."
"But... but... do YOU believe that God cares for all of us?"
"That's not what you asked me at the start when you thought me to be The Messiah."
"Errr..."
"OK, lets' try something else. Do YOU believe that God sees and hears everything?"
"Yes. We believe that God is omnipresent."
"So, God must know when HMRC and the Police are going to arrive."
"Errr... you've called the Police?"
"Well, yes, but..."
"We'll be off now. Thanks for your time."
"Hang on, I still want to see your ID cards."
"We don't have ID cards, we're not selling anything."
"Do you really believe that?"
There was no answer. They'd gone.
You're not the Messiah, BG, just a very naughty boy!
Indeed!
If only they could've hung on for a bit longer I might have given them a gourd and a sandal to play with.
Isn't the answer to the fundamental questions that has been troubling believers for millennia, 42 ❓
I'll ask the mice after I've finished the crinkly bits, George.