Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Missing Darkness - Sara's Submission

Posting this early, as my schedule is variable as of late. The story has its origins in what turned out to be a Sufi version of the fall from paradise. (Sufism is a branch of Islam.) I heard it during a Joseph Cambpell program years ago and it stuck with me long enough to come out here.


Nature of My Game

I’m coming. I’m coming back to You.

Of course, You likely already know what I intend to do. You’re supposed to know everything and be everywhere, though I don’t know if Hell is an exception. But the way You bow down at the altar of free will, you may not even try to stop me. Why would You, unless You are actually afraid of what I’m bringing with me? Or afraid of me, even? I can’t believe that. Even though so much I believe about You has changed, I can’t believe that You would ever fear me. Hate, perhaps. You may even honestly never want to see me or what I have to show You. But You can’t be so naïve, so willfully ignorant, as to fear me. But perhaps I remember You wrong. It’s been so long since I last saw You and so much of it is clouded in what I believed back then.

You created us all in the first days. You could have easily made us slaves, so wholly bound to You that we couldn’t even imagine doing anything but Your will. But no, that was not Your way. You wanted us to serve You out of our own choice, not out of fear. And so from our first day, our will was our own and the choice to serve You or leave You was always ours. But in those days, it hardly mattered to me. I wouldn’t have loved You any more or served You any more faithfully had You created me as a mindless enforcer of Your will. I loved You from the first moment I beheld You. And the fact that You gave us all the freedom to leave You only bound me to You more.

You put us to work, those of us who chose to stay, on bringing Your creation into being. We served as the instruments of Your will and did so happily. Seeing Your grand design made real brought You joy and Your joy was all we desired. Again, my memories of that time can’t be trusted, but I’d still dare to say that I toiled harder than the rest to please You. Yes, it must have been true, for You were pleased and called me your Morning Star, the last one to fade into rest.

We marveled at the world You had built through us, existence pulled out of the darkness and nothing. There was no end of wonders in everything You designed, from the tiniest grain of sand to the wide expanses of oceans to the beautiful way all of it worked together, each part affecting the other and contributing to the whole. I could have spent a happy eternity just observing it all and wondering at how You could have envisioned it all from nothing. But that was before you ruined everything.

You gathered us all together to show us. We could feel Your excitement at what you hade done. You had crafted something Yourself, which You only did when it was a great undertaking or something of greatest importance to You. You made the broad brushstrokes and then gave us the instructions for how You wanted the fine details to look. So we all knew this was something You felt very strongly about. And then You showed us what You had made.

I can’t know what the rest of them felt when they saw for the first time. But even then, I was unsure what You were thinking. The creatures You had made were like misshapen embryos grown far beyond normal size. They seemed to lack any attributes that would give them an advantage over other creatures You had made. Even with the potential for periodic changes You had so lovingly engineered into every living thing to keep Your world strong, I couldn’t see how these feeble naked things could fit into Your vast and beautiful world.

Even then, though it was the first time I looked upon any of Your works and questioned it, I could have been persuaded. I looked upon Your pride and happiness as You showed us these little creatures and I began to question myself more than You. Had it ended there, I would still be at your side, your Morning Star.

But it did not end there. You told us that this was Your last great creation, that all of Your work and ours had been leading up to this. “Humans”, You called them. You told us that they would be the caretakers of Your world and Your world would exist to care for them. And as we served You and bowed down to You, now we must also serve and bow before these humans You had made.

I didn’t say anything at first. I waited. I waited for You to laugh and say this was all a joke. I waited for one of the other to tell You that this was absurd, though none of us had ever done such a thing. But to my shock, no one protested and You were sincere. The others all pledged to serve the humans as well and faithfully as they had served You. I should have left right then, told You how I felt. But I found myself swearing my obedience to Your masterpiece along with the others. I told myself it was just a test of our loyalty, though You had never done anything like that before. I told myself that You had to see something that I did not and in time, I would understand these humans and willingly serve them as I did You. But above all, I did not say anything because I still did not believe that you could be wrong.

Time passed, but nothing came clear to me. I watched your new creatures down in the happy paradise You had made for them. They had no strife, no hardship, no reason not to love You. The others fawned over the humans and this seemed to please You. But I was beginning to question. Did the other angels truly see the beauty in this last work of Yours that I did not? Or did they feel the same as me and hide their feelings to win Your favor? Did they swallow their pride or did they simply have none? I served You because You could have made me serve You through fear or shaping me to Your will, but You left the choice with me. I served You because You entrusted us with Your vision and making it real became my joy as well as Yours. I served you because I loved You. I would bow before You, but I would never bow to anything less.

I could have left, as others had before me. I could have become mortal and made myself a part of Your great work. Or I could have gone into exile and explored what lay beyond even Your reach. But that would have meant leaving You, and that was the last thing I wanted. What I wanted was to show You that You had erred by placing far too much faith in the humans when they were really no different than any other of Your creatures. I considered simply telling You what I had come to understand. But I saw the way You looked down on them still with so much love and pride and I knew You would never believe me. I had to prove it.

So I went to them, Your little naïve babies. They had no reason not to trust me; nothing had ever harmed them in the slightest. So my task was easy. I filled them up with shame and worry and fear. I took Your love for them and made them so terrified of losing it that they would have done anything I said, even go against Your own rules.

It was not until much later, when I had time to reflect, that I wondered why You never stopped me. Were You not so all knowing and all seeing as You are now? Did You truly value free will so much that you would let me go against You and cause harm to those You called Your children? Or did You, though You would never admit it to anyone, at least partly realize that I was right? Did You let me corrupt them because You knew it had to happen?
I still don’t know the answer. It didn’t matter. The deed was done and Your children disobeyed You. You wept at their foolishness, for the paradise You had created for them relied on their innocence. With that gone, Your children were cast out into a world that would make them toil and struggle for their mere survival. You grieved for them, but it could be no other way, for they had betrayed Your trust. As had I.

I stood before You, the first angel to have acted against You. The others stared in disbelief and revulsion, none willing to claim me as a friend anymore. You asked me why I had done this thing, why I had broken my vow to serve humans, worked against Your will, led Your children astray, and forced their expulsion from Your paradise. I told You then what I had not told You before. I told You the humans were inferior, no greater than any of Your other creations and far weaker than many. I told You I had given my vow out of faith in You, but that humans were not worthy of being called Your children or of being served by angels. I told You that I loved You and that I would serve You for all time in whatever way You wished. But I would not serve anyone other than You, for there were no others as worthy of my loyalty and my love.

I still like to think that because of what I told You, You felt a hint of sadness when You stuck me down and I fell.

I was not at first aware of where I was or what You had done to me. I only knew that something felt very wrong about this place, unlike anything I had ever sensed before. And I felt that I was missing something, though I could not figure out what. It is difficult to identify what is missing from you when you have never known existence without it. But with time, I discovered what was missing from both this place and from me. It was You. For the first time since my creation, I felt no sense of Your presence. You were completely absent from both this place and from me.

I do not know how long I spent suffering with this bitter knowledge. Time means little to immortals and even less here. I screamed. I raged. I wept. I begged for You to have mercy, even if You couldn’t forgive me. I pleaded for You to make me into the smallest blade of grass, the tiniest grain of sand, the most insignificant drop of water. Any existence that had some dim, distant sense of your acknowledgement, I would gladly take. Let me be the dust beneath the feet of the humans I had so despised. Anything, so long as it was not this place and this life, cut off completely from You. But You either did not hear of did not listen.

It did not take me long to discover what power I had in this place you had exiled me to. Had I not explored this place and what I was capable of here, I would have had nothing but my slowly fading memories of everything I had lost. I first found that I could shape this realm, as I had shaped Your world by Your command. My first attempt was to mimic Your creation as best I could remember it. It was pleasant enough for a while, but it never compared to even my dimmed memories of the real thing. Without Your hand to guide me, all I could craft was a pale copy of your work. After a time, I destroyed it. I took a perverse pleasure at first in laying waste to that which You loved. I hadn’t really admitted it to myself until then, but I did want to hurt You as You had hurt me. But before long, destroying replicas of that which I had originally made out of love for You brought no joy and I simply made it all vanish. I then tried a few original works, but none of them pleased me. I lacked Your ability to perfectly balance order and random chaos and I did not have Your vision or sense of purpose. My creations were aimless little experiments and I tired of them quickly.

It was my next discovery that gave me the sense of purpose I had lacked. I had early on tried to reach or even glimpse the Heaven that had been my only home before my fall. But Your realm was closed off to me so completely that I could not even see the most distant glimmer of its radiance. But as I continued to explore my new home and my remaining powers, I discovered that I could see one other realm from my own: Your earth. More than that, I found that I could extend my presence into it. I could never wholly leave this prison You had banished me to; a part of me would always remain here as master of this forsaken place. And I still could not feel Your presence, though I knew You were in every part of this world. But I could exert a certain small amount of influence. I could not shape it as I did my own realm, but I could cause some things to happen and I could – in various ways – speak to the humans as I had to the first of them.

It did not take me long to decide what to do with my newfound abilities. I would turn Your children from You. I would turn them away from everything You had ever hoped they would be and make You despair that You ever thought to create them. You had punished the first of them for disobeying You once, so if I could more fully corrupt them, the punishment would have to be all the greater. And as my work continued, You would have to see that I was right and You were wrong to give such favored status to these weak, fallible creatures.

I devoted myself to my new task fully. I caused disasters and heartache to befall Your children. I whispered thoughts of selfishness and betrayal and other wicked deeds into their ears and the seeds I planted took root. Some of their transgressions were minor, others great, but I took joy in each. And when I found that I could claim the souls of those I had succeeded in corrupting upon their deaths, the design of my realm became clear. I designed a place of pain and despair where the souls of the humans I had claimed would suffer as I suffered away from You. I crafted each torment with specificity, to most thoroughly ravage the individual soul. You could perhaps ignore my anguish, but how long could You ignore theirs?

My work continued. My Hell grew and prospered and I created my own minions to share in the work. More servants came to me from you; angels who had come to see things as I did and left Your kingdom for mine. Yet so eternal was Your punishment for me that they were unable to tell me anything of You when they came to me. To this day, I do not know if You still think of me or if You are even aware of what I’m doing. All I know of You is what I learn from the souls I gather, and their views of you are understandably lacking in accuracy.

You would think that with time, Your children would have become wiser to me and my tricks. But if anything, corruption has only become an easier game. The slightest setback or misfortune is enough to make them question Your love or Your very existence. Turning them against their fellows is almost laughably easy. I can even take Your own words to them and twist them around so my unwitting followers carry out my work and think they do Yours. Death? The greatest tool of all in my hands. It’s inevitable, one of the very few constants across all of their lives. It frees them from worldly concerns. It brings the closer to You, if they’re lucky. They should at the least accept it. But they live in constant fear of it, and most will do anything to try and avoid it. And they act as though it should have sense and meaning to it. Throw them a tidal wave or an earthquake or a disease that attacks their young and they go into spiritual crisis. Winning their souls over is often just a matter of sitting back and watching.

My final discovery about my abilities since my fall is far more recent. As I take more souls, I become more powerful. It has its limits; I know that even if I won every soul in existence, I could not undo Your punishment. But my reach is greater than it was, and the boundaries of my prison have expanded. I may never enter the kingdom of Heaven again, but I can stand at the gates and knock, which is what I intend to do. My power is such now that at can be fully there, standing at the doorway of the pace I cannot enter. My absence will not affect the harvest of souls. Hell can all but run itself. The higher ranked members of my legions may eventually try to win control of Hell for themselves, but that will not happen soon. I rule by fear as You riled by love and I think the latter is far more effective. It will be a long time before any one of them attempts to claim my throne in my absence, assuming they ever would. They know I have the power to unmake them and that the process can be very long and excruciating if I so choose. So You needn’t worry about souls that would normally go to Hell wandering the earth and causing havoc. But perhaps You should worry about the ones I’m going to take with me.

It’s not going to be all of them. Even I don’t want to know what the consequences of an empty Hell might be. I’ll just be clothing myself in the ones I particularly want You to see. There are those who turned from You so quickly that it was as if they never felt Your presence even for a fraction of a second. There are those who were so close to being Yours for eternity, but fell to me with just one little nudge in that direction. And there are the ones who to this day will swear that their paths were righteous and that their actions were Your will. If You do truly know all and see all, I think You’ve ignored these wayward children of Yours for far too long.

I don’t expect to be welcomed home, or even to be told I was right. I know it’s unlikely that I’ll even get to see You. But I know that You’ll see me, and You’ll see all of the souls that You’ve lost. You won’t be able to ignore any of us anymore. And whether I’m stopped by angelic guardians before I get more than a few steps out of Hell or I get all the way to the heavenly gates, I’ll ask the same question and I’ll know that You’ve heard it: Why do You let me do what I do? Yes, I know, free will and all, both theirs and mine. But how can You be their loving parent and at the same time, allow me to abuse Your children so? Why, as they so often ask of You or me or anyone they think might listen, do You let bad things happen to good people? Will anyone answer me? Will You? Can You?

I’m not really looking for an answer though. What I’m looking for is Your reaction to what I do. Because when I see what You do when I come back to You with the souls of the damned in tow, maybe I can finally figure out once and for all if I should spend my existence hating You or loving You.