There once was a man with a mission. It wasn't a grand mission on the face of it. Then again, no one but he who sought to carry it out even knew of it. That was the point. It was a test.

                He was, by choice, an atheist. He wasn't militant about it, not like those street-corner, soapbox preachers who screamed that everyone was going to hell. No, he was quiet about it, not trying to be overtly disrespectful, and yet feeling deep down inside that the whole concept of a great being was ludicrous.

                He satisfied his need to ridicule religion in a quiet, understated way. Wherever he went, and if one was close by, he would walk into an unoccupied church, look around to make sure it was empty, and then at the top of his lungs he would shout out;

“Can I talk to the man in charge?"

He never got a reply, though on more than one occasion he left just before the vicar, or priest, or minister, or whomever was there stepped out of  back room to see whose yell was echoing off the walls. After a few hundred times it got to the point it wasn't even fun for him anymore.

Because he never got a reply from the one he was calling for, he never gave up trying. HE was persistent if nothing else.

One day he was driving on the freeway and encountered a traffic jam. He figured out that if he got off the next exit, he could bypass the snarl and keep going, even if it meant taking the back roads. He did just that, enjoying the scenery that was going to be the only benefit from his forced sojourn from the expressway. This was going to put him hours behind either way, but it beat creeping along at a snail's pace for the next few hours.

Besides. He needed to get fuel for his car. Now, if he could only find a gas station.

He found one a good twenty miles away; in a little town whose corporation limit sign was so rusted and faded as to be unreadable. The pumps were old, the attendant decrepit, but gas was gas. He paid up; turned around to find a good route in the direction he was going and stepped on the gas. He had only gone a few miles when he saw it.

He had obviously passed it on the way into town, but he had somehow failed to notice it. It was a little white church, complete with a needle of a steeple, stained glass windows and all the coziness of a Baptist meeting house. It was clean, prim and at the moment, looking as vacant as the eyes of a dead man. Since it had a parking lot to one side that had once served horses and buggies in its day, he pulled in on the off chance the front door was unlocked. He doubted it, in this day and age, but you never knew until you tried.

He grasped the knob and gave it an experimental turn. To his mild surprise it turned. The door swung open into a small, pew-lined room with a high ceiling. It was as typical a church as you could imagine. There were hundreds if not thousands of them dotting the landscape from Maine to California. He stepped inside, looking for the presence of anyone at hand. He assumed there wasn't, for there were no cars out there outside of his own, and it was the middle of the week. Even preachers took a day off.

“Can I talk to the man in charge?"

His voice seemed to echo for a moment before fading to silence.

Then he heard it.

But what was it?

A sprinkling of dust drifted past his face.

He looked up.

“Hi there!"

There was a man sitting in the rafters. Only, he was falling…

Only to land softly on his feet in front of him.

“Who the hell are you?" ask the first man.

There was a chuckle.

“Funny you should ask that in that particular fashion. As it is, I've gotten tired of your persistence and decided to shut you up once and for all."

The man, if that's what he was, was not from around these parts. The Armani suit, if not a dead giveaway (no one here would recognize Armani from JC Penny), was glaring out of place in a rural setting. The Gucci shoes were also inappropriate for walking on farmland, and the Rolex Watch and Ray-Bans looked like they belonged poolside, not hog-trough-side.

The first man gulped.

“You're God?"

There was a snort of derision.

“You have been asking for the man in charge, not God."

“But I thought…"

“You thought what? Never mind, I know what you think. You think that the concept of God is silly. And yet, here you are, trying to test your hypothesis by going into every church you encounter attempting to find that which your mind tells you doesn't exist. Why are you wasting your time?"

“But…you came."

“Yes. I did."

“But you're not God?"

“Do I look like God?"

“Uh. I don't know what God looks like."

“Really? He's tall, short; fat, skinny; blue, red, green; has a beard, has no beard; is male, is female, is hermaphroditic; lives in heaven, lives under the ground, is full of love and pity, and yet is full of hatred and bitterness. Don't you know your world religions better than that Jonathon?"

“You know my name?"

The man let out a tired yawn.

“Really? You yammer and yammer about something long enough, everyone will know who you are, even when you give over to your weakness in private."

“Weakness?"

“Doubt. You are a smart man John – can I call you John? Yes? Good. You're a smart man. You delve into the world around you. You understand the concepts of determining the validity of an argument. You comprehend scientific principles. You can see through falsehoods as easily as looking through a storefront window. Why do you persist?"

“Wait, wait wait! Who are you?"

There came a deeply seated sigh.

“Names! Like I said, you're smart. Figure it out."

“But if you're not God…"

“Yes?" the man said sweetly.

“Then that would make you the Devil."

The man looked down at himself.

“Well I hope so. Can you imagine wearing white robes all the time and sporting a beard down to your waist? I mean, that's either so Middle Eastern or so very the nineteen-seventies that either way it makes me shudder…"

He paused for a moment.

“Oh lord. Now I'm sounding like a Christian."

“What?" said John, his mouth hanging open.

“Christians. They hate Middle Easterners now, and back in the seventies they hated hippies. I guess the clothes don't make the man. Still, why they like the thought of a decadent old man is beyond me. It just doesn't add up."

“Hold on. You're the Devil."

“If there's more than one, just let me know. I will assuredly sue him for copyright infringement."

“The Devil?"

Again with a sigh.

“Old Nick, Lucifer, Beelzebub, Satan…need I go on?"

“Really?"

“John, you're really slow today. Not on your best game. If you want to call me something I don't mind, call me the Great Deceiver."  

“Is that so? Then you're just here to deceive me?"

The man laughed.

“That's why I like the name. I don't do a damn bit of deceiving. I always tell the facts, and when I don't have all the facts, I do my best to tell the truth. It's people who are prone to deceiving themselves. I just willingly take the blame."

John stared at him for a moment.

“Let's say, just for argument's sake, that I believe you. Prove to me who you are."

“Prove it to you? John, you would need empirical evidence. I suppose you might want me to look more…demonic?"

“Well, your landing from the ceiling was clever enough, but yes, something a little more convincing would be in order."

The face of the man he was speaking to took on a reddish cast, and horns sprouted from his head. A rending sound could be heard as a six foot long spiked tail erupted from the backside of the trousers.

“I hope you're happy. I'm going to hear it from my tailor when he has to fix these again."

“Shit!"

“There's a privy around back if you need to go, but shall you at least verify for me that this is more than enough evidence for the time being?"

John sat down.

“Yes, I suppose it is. Even if this was a set up, I didn't even know I was going to be here at this moment. I should be sailing along on the highway right now."

“Yes, yes. Always places to go, people to see. You know, stopping once in a while and appreciating the world around you never hurts."

“You don't sound like the Devil?"

The voice deepened and became more menacing.

“I said; stopping once in a while and appreciating the world around you never hurts."

John actually had to suppress a guffaw.

“That's not what I meant and you know it."

“I know what you meant. What do you know of me? Hmmmm? Everything that's in the Bible or the Quran? Remember, history is written by the winners."

“Alright. You have my attention. What are you really?"

“Oh. Looking to get answers? Well, let's see what you know. Ever heard how I was once called the Angel of Light?"

“Yeah. I read that."

“Well, that should be amended to the Angel of Enlightenment. You realize of course that most of the entire Bible is baloney, right? I would say that a lot of it had a purpose a long time ago, for a select group of people in a specific portion of the world, but that most of it is completely irrelevant today. Digging a hole away from the city to drop a load? Come on, even this place has outhouses. You won't see anyone digging a hole each time they have to take a shit. Leather. And mixing it with cotton. Or whatever. Can you imagine how Happy Days would have turned out if the Fonz hadn't been able to wear jeans, a tee shirt and his jacket together? You did watch the show, didn't you?"

“Yes I watched it. And I don't disagree with you."

“But something is nagging you or I wouldn't be here talking to you when I could be poolside with a very lovely young thing in a French bikini."

“That sounds a little hedonistic."

“And you expected something else?"

 “No, I suppose not."

“Look John, you only live once. Other religions than the one you grew up with will tell you differently, but your mind has already told you the most important thing you need to know. There is nothing after death except rot and decay, and still people pump chemicals into their corpses to try to preserve them for some afterlife their body wouldn't be fit for anyways. I mean, it was bad enough when the Egyptians starting doing it, but now…look at all the real estate that could be farmland, or housing complexes, or hospitals."

“You don't sound like the Devil…errr…the Great Deceiver."

“That's because I'm not. People deceive themselves. Did you know that the so called Bible Belt watches the most gay porn? Did you know that marriages were only formally taken over by the Catholic Church in the year one thousand two hundred and fifteen? That sex between a married couple was only tolerated because it produced children? Look at all the scandals that happen today in churches; pederasty and child abuse by people who are supposed to know and act better than that. And who do they blame? Me. I have nothing to do with it. I mean seriously, like I'm going to take time out of my day for any Tom, Dick or Harry.

“But you did for me."

“Your name is John. Remember that."

“Touché."

“Look John, I like you, but really, your insistence on seeking out the truth has gotten a little skewed. Why must you persist in defying what you already know to be true?"

“I was doing fine until you showed up. Now I don't know what to think!"

“Meaning?"

“Well, if there is a Devil then there must be a God."

“Really? Why?"

“Because…"

His voice faded out.

“John, the problem with humans is that they still have a limited intellect. Not all of them, but many of them. A human mind must be molded carefully to allow it to continue to grow over the course of its useful existence. How many great minds, do you think, have been stifled from religious oppression? How much better could this place be if that had not happened?"

“Speculation."

“Yes. Speculation. But has it been religion that has built skyscrapers? Has it been prayers that put men on the moon? The answer is no. It has been intelligence. It has been by expanding ones view of what you see to include those things that you can conceptualize and then make real."

“Like me with you?"

The Devil tapped his foot in irritation.

“Look John. I exist and I have no doubts about that. I don't need faith to make me real. I drink, I smoke, I carouse and I am not sorry for any of it. When you've been around as long as I have, you find you get bored very easy. And speaking of bored, if you don't pick up the pace of this conversation I may just have to leave you with unanswered questions."

“No, no, don't go! Ok, let's go back to the Bible."

“Fine."

“There's the whole serpent thing, you know, in the garden of Eden."

“Are you calling me a snake?"

“No! But the whole thing about the tree and the apple."

“Oh that. You do know that story is a total falsehood, right? Think about the whole tale. God makes man. God makes woman from man's rib. Man has sex with woman. They have kids. The kids populate the world."

“Biologically speaking that's impossible."

“With God, all things are possible…"

“But you said…"

“Right. Think logically. Number one, why would he borrow a rib when he could have made her out of anything at hand; he is claimed to be all powerful after all? Subjugation of the female gender of course by a male hierarchy. Why do you think so many old white males still think females are beneath them? Because they're uneducated morons. And then there would be their kids. If all they had to mate with was a sibling, that would mean the entire present population of the Earth is the results of incest…which would go a long ways to explaining things like the present president you guys chose."

“I didn't vote for him."

“Many didn't. Doesn't matter. Now, as for the apple shtick; I really like how simple that made it. The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil! What that essentially says is; if you get to be too smart, you'll see the truth behind pretty much everything and everything that is a hoax will be revealed. This is why religious people are often the most gullible. They will believe in such nonsense as a children's book accumulated and edited over thousands of years, but yet won't believe facts laid down in front of them. And they call me the Great Deceiver."

“So you support…"

  “Support? I don't support anything John. I prefer to be left alone. I don't collect souls…"

“Wait. Why not?"

“I just told you that," the Devil answered sourly. “How can I collect something that doesn't exist?"

“So then there are no Pearly Gates?"

“None I have ever seen. You've traced the history back; you've done your investigations. You should know that modern religion is a refinement and distillation of centuries of tired rhetoric. I am the villain because intelligence is the enemy of ignorance, and religion typifies ignorance. It is far easier to herd sheep than to herd, oh say, cats. Why do you think that they say “the Lord is my shepherd?"

“I don't know."

“Duh. Baaaa. Baaaa. Baaaa."

“So stupid people are easier to deceive?"

“No. Uninformed people are easier to deceive. Everyone has a different level of learning ability. Each mind is a container. If you expand it early on, it will hold more information. Stifle it, and it becomes full and everything else falls out."

“Falls out?"

“A rigid mind cannot grasp any more than it has been taught to handle. How could all the wisdom of God fit into one little book written by the hand of men?"

“There is that."

The Devil replied in a mocking tone.

“There is that! Look at all of the accumulated knowledge of science. It is finite, but the capacity for learning is infinite. You could never in your lifetime read every paper, every journal, and every book that has already been published. And yet people rely on a single book to live their lives by. Doesn't that sound small and insignificant to you?"

“Yes. But since we are having this conversation, I would like to play Devil's Advocate."

There was a moment of silence.

“I thought better of you John."

“Bear with me. People need guidance. They need rules to follow, otherwise society breaks down."

“True enough. But having a philosophy to live your life by is no excuse to be an asshole to anyone and everyone who doesn't think like you do."

“Right. I agree. That has always been my biggest beef. How you either have to fall in line with everyone else or be labeled an outcast."

“Inclusionary and exclusionary practices have been around for a very long time, and across many cultures. Add to it rites and secret practices and religion is right up there with the Masons and a hundred other such organizations. Everyone needs some hoodoo to make it seem like they have the mojo, you know?"

“So what you're trying to tell me is that I have been right all along?"

“Right. Wrong. Good. Evil. Seriously? Is killing someone bad?"

“Yes."

“Quick answer on your part. Why is it bad?"

“Because…"

His voice trailed off.

“You know better. There is no right. There is no wrong. There is no good. There is no evil. Well, there is, but it only comes from inside each person, not from some outside influence. Do you really think I have time to go around promoting misery and strife all over the world? That would seriously be a drag. I've got better things to do with my time. And if killing is so bad, why is it that according to the religious book you know the best, it is God who has murdered the most?"

“Yeah, I did wonder about that."

“Yep. I'm blamed for Jobs' family, so since I have broad shoulders and can handle being a scapegoat; let's just say that I did. That was ten people and according to the good book, I had his permission. How many died in the great flood? Everyone but Noah's family. And according to the good book, he nitpicked tons of people to death. Lot's wife, for example. And yet he turned his back while Lot and his daughters got it on? I mean seriously, that's some messed up shit!"

“It doesn't make any sense to me."

“You're right. To someone thinking clearly and logically, it doesn't make sense. Which is why I say that religion is for the uninformed masses; they who have been taught to accept all matters given to them, instead of questioning them. But I think we both know the general truths behind this subject. Time changes everything. There is comfort in something that remains static. Like going back to your hometown after an absence of twenty six years and finding that the local drugstore still sells penny candy."

John looked thunderstruck.

“How do you know that?"

“Does it matter? You still have some in your pocket."

“No I don't…"

He reached in and pulled out a small handful.

“How the hell?"

“Hell has nothing to do with it John, I keep telling you that. Just because you can't make sense of something doesn't mean you give up trying to learn the ins and outs of it. Falling back on faith-based garbage makes you a loser in my book. Striving forward is what has gotten the human race to where they are, and while I will agree with your assessment of the need for a philosophy to give a person direction, I do not agree with it when it causes pain to others."

There was an extended silence. John finally spoke.

“You're not anything like what I was expecting."

“Of course not. You weren't expecting me at all so you were devoid of pre-conceived notions that would skew your views. The curious thing about me is that I am completely independent of this world. I have nothing against it, and there are so many wonderful things here that I find it difficult to believe that humans find so much wrong with it. Me, I say enjoy it. But, greed, hatred, and prejudice seem to have more staying power than generosity, love and acceptance."

“That sounds strange coming out of your mouth."

“Why?"

He didn't sound offended, only curious.

“Well, religious people tend to hate homosexuals, other religions, hell, even different sects of their own religion. To hear you talk you have nothing against anyone."

 “Why would I John? I garner no profit from someone else's misery. I do not need to elevate myself to feel superior. IF that were the case I would have called myself Schadenfreude."

“I still say it sounds strange coming out of your mouth."

“So maybe I'm lying. Maybe I do hate a lot of different people because of their skin color or their sexual orientation. Would the world be any different if I did? I'll tell you one last time; deception starts in the mind. And not my mind. Enlightenment was chosen as the enemy by those who sought to have power. And despite the best efforts of religion, science has largely prevailed. But there is the inevitable pushback; the dying throes of a concept that needs to go out the door like last week's trash."

There were a few more moments of silence before John spoke again.

“So I guess I should quit bothering you?"

“Yes please. But, if you are ever in California, look me up. You have my card."

“No I don't!"

“Check your wallet."

John went to pull it out but stopped.

The Devil smiled.

“Aren't you going to look?"

“No. I'll take this one on faith."