God

One time, God asked me a question.

It wasn’t a question about self-realization or commitment or obligation,

it was a question about salvation.

Because when the moment that marked the 6th day of battle in Jerusalem

met the moment Che raised his last fist

met the moment Lee Harvey Oswald pulled that November trigger,

God felt shame.

Shame for not being able to construct a world free of hostility with his not-so-pliable children,

shame for being the foundation of hatred and genocide, shame.

And when he whispered in my ear to ask his question he stood on tippy toes

because in that moment, his ego was suppressed.

I felt his question in the form of warm breath on the back of my neck and it sounded like this:

“Can you save me?”

The same words were spoken in that fateful summer

on the corner of Haight and Ashbury

where Bob Dylan kissed Cass Elliot but didn’t actually feel anything.

Stains of novacaine appeared on her forehead at the coordinates where his lips touched,

but he didn’t actually feel anything.

Maybe it was because she was playing a role.

You see, her name wasn’t really Cass Elliot

it was Ellen Cohen and she was a Jewish American Princess turned nonconformist folk voice.

Maybe she felt shame like the rest of us.

Ashamed of the time spent in the synagogue

or the burning flame of the Shabbat candle on her table

and maybe she felt more like a mama and less like a papa.

Above all else she was ashamed of this world and the brutality within it,

so this one time, she asked God a question.

She asked in the form of a sandwich stuck in her throat in the bathtub

or secretly in the form of a needle in her arm and it sounded like this:

“Can you save me?”

The same words were spoken by my friend

who once prayed to an electric lightbulb mistaking it for heaven.

A short circuit in his intention to interact with a higher power

extinguished his plea and it went unheard.

From what are you seeking salvation, my friend?

I assume claustrophobic anxiety

and unexplained acts of injustice

and homosexual more-than-tendencies.

But he’ll be remembered as someone who walks with God.

And God will tell him in the form of warm breath on the back of his neck

to feel no shame in his desire.

And as they walk together, they will ask each other the question:

“Can you save me?”

(PS - I don’t believe in God)