Idle Musings - 1: Divine Mysteries Explained - Natural Disasters

A natural disaster occurs. Quite naturally - without rhyme or reason. We, the Humans, yearn for an explanation. God does not owe Us one. Naturally - He has His own methods. And His own secrets to keep.

Since God would not provide Us with a ready explanation, We, in Our Finite Wisdom, set out to seek one. We ponder. We speculate. We rationalize. We come up with answers. The wrong ones, as is Our wont.

To Err is Human, they say.

===

A huge Wave comes crashing on a coast, taking thousands along, and generally spewing disaster in its wake. "Oh, and what had the innocent done to deserve this," We lament. "Where is the Divine Justice in this?"

"Must be the wages of sin of that Society," We decide.

Never mind that the sinners of "that Society" are safe, untouched in lands afar, separated by oceans wide. It is always the innocent who must die for the sins of others. For theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.

Never mind that "other Societies" in the vicinity suffer equally. For such are the mysterious ways of God.

But some do survive. Sure, they lose a parent here and a family there, but they survive. "It's a Miracle," We conclude. "Those must be God's Chosen People!" Isn't God Great?

"Repent, All Ye! Surrender to God, and You shall be Saved," We sermonize.

===

It has been a warm, lazy Sunday afternoon. I have been idling around the house, as usual, maintaining my state of rest. Newton's First Law of Motion must be obeyed.

An external, unbalanced force acts upon my body, setting it into a state of motion. She, like me, is a staunch Newtonist. "There is work to be done," she declares. "The lawn in the backyard needs to be mowed."

"Not on a Sunday afternoon," I protest, exercising my Third Law rights. But my equal and opposite reaction is soon quelled by the Superior Force. My inertia having thus been destroyed, I accelerate to the backyard, albeit reluctantly, with a vehemence directly in proportion to the force applied. After all, Newton's Second Law cannot be sidestepped, either.

===

I approach the looming task with gloom. I survey ahead of me a tall, vast and unruly growth of grass, weeds, anthills, insects and the like - the usual flora and fauna to be found in a backyard long neglected. And frogs, a value addition thanks to the lake nearby. "Could take ages," I realize. "A beautiful Sunday afternoon gone to waste."

I curse. Not any good. The task still needs to be done. So I set about, determined to finish it in the shortest possible time. Possibly, something could still be saved from the afternoon. "Got to take the path of least resistance," I strategize.

===

My lawnmower whirs in an otherwise quiet afternoon, decimating everything in its path. As I follow it, I sight upon an anthill in the midst of a thick patch of grass. The ants go about their usual business, unaware of the doom that is to befall them.

"Should I or should I not," I soliloquize. What have these ants done to deserve merciless destruction under my lawnmower? Poor things, all they want to do is work hard to provide for their families, and all they ask is to be left alone to do so. They do me no wanton harm. Sure, they do sting when I happen to stumble upon their abode, but then, in that situation, who wouldn't?

"They should be spared," I decide. But then, the surrounding grass needs to be cut. There is no way I can avoid the anthill, I realize.

"Sorry, folks! Couldn't be helped!" I say, as my lawnmower reduces the ants, and the entire world that they have hitherto known, to nothingness.

"They were intruders, after all. They had no right to be here - not in my backyard," I rationalize.

"I would have poisoned them, anyways. What difference does it make?" I philosophize.

===

An hour passes by. The lawn is almost done; only a little remains to be mowed. I look forward to the resumption of my now well-earned state of rest, when I spot a frog ahead of my lawnmower.

I have no affinity for frogs. Harmless creatures, no doubt. But that cannot be cause enough to want to love them. I can easily dispatch the frog after the ants.

On the other hand, to spare it is not so exceedingly difficult either. I prod it out of harm's way.

"Enough killing for the day," I decide.

===

As I ponder upon the relative fates that befell the ants and the frog, my thoughts go to the victims and survivors of the Wave. And then the Truth dawns upon me.

Perhaps, God is just a landowner, trying to maintain His property. The Earth is His backyard, and We, the Earth-dwellers, are just creatures that live therein.

Perhaps, We are not God's Chosen Ones. Perhaps, We do not even count in His scheme of things.

Perhaps, We do not hold tenancy rights upon His property. Perhaps, We are not tenants, but just pests that defile His backyard. If We happen to be in His way, He may choose to destroy Us or spare Us, based purely upon a whim.

Perhaps, it is futile to pray. For God is not bound to listen to our prayers. He does not even hear them - the din of the lawnmower deafens Him. In any case, He is not interested.

Perhaps, Our only way to survive is to avoid being in the way of His lawnmower. For, once there, there is no appeal.

To predict the course of that Divine Lawnmower, of course, is the tough part.

===

Tailpiece: But perhaps, there is Hope for Mankind, after all. Perhaps, there is an Appeal.

Perhaps, all God is really interested in is to get back to His state of rest. As soon as possible.

Perhaps, in the first place, He started this maintenance task only at the behest of a Superior Force. Such a Force must exist, for behind every God, Successful or otherwise, there must be a Woman.

That Woman needs to be found, contacted and appealed to.