The Night Stephen Fry Met God

One night, after a long day, Stephen Fry went to sleep. He expected it to be a typical night's rest, one without any particular dreams he remembered. But this wasn't to be.

As soon as he closed his eyes, he woke up again. He wasn't in his bed though, he was in a small wooden booth with screen around the sides, sitting on a comfortable chair.

"Why, I do believe I'm in a confessional box!" He said to himself.

"Of course you are, Stephen." said a voice from the booth next to him. It was a calm voice, and it seemed familiar to him, though he couldn't place where he knew it from.

"And who are you?" he demanded. Stephen Fry was not the sort of man that appreciated being abducted by strangers in the middle of the night. I suppose he was rather typical in that way.

"I heard you had something to say to me. I am Jesus Christ. I am God."

The stranger with the familiar voice said this so matter of factly, with such self assurance, that it took Stephen back for a moment. Then, he laughed.

"Oh, very funny. I know for a fact that there is no God."

"Then how do you explain me?" The voice asked, a hint of amusement in his tone.

"You? I can't even see you! Typical, I should say. Maybe you really are God!"

"Oh Stephen," Christ laughed. "Always the comedian. Even before you were born you could always make me laugh."

"Before I was born I was a bundle of cells. And before that I didn't exist, just like you."
Stephen said with a smirk. 

"Before I formed thee in the belly I knew thee; and before thou camest forth out of the womb I sanctified thee..." Christ said, sufferingly.

"What was that?"

"Oh, something I told an old friend of mine."

"You know, 'God,' you still haven't told me who you really are."

"I have, you simply don't believe me. But your belief doesn't change the truth."

"And you still haven't explained why I can't see you."

"Most of the time I would say it is because that would spoil the test if you knew all the answers-" Christ started.

"A test?" Stephen interrupted. "Is that all this life is to you? Just pulling strings to see how we react?"

"No," he responded. "The children of my Father have a very important destiny in the eternities, but first they must prove to themselves and to all of creation that they are worthy of the power and glory that awaits them."

Stephen laughed. Since he is a fine British gentleman he considered it more of a chortle.

"If you looked upon me with your heart in that condition, you would die." Christ said.

"Yes, well, other men claim to have seen you, or, the Being you claim to be. The Bible is full of those stories. Moses said he saw your face."

"Trust me, if you saw what they saw, we would be having this conversation postmortem. Everything I have ever done is for your own good."

"Is that so? You know what, for the sake of argument, I'll humor you for a while. I'll repeat myself from the interview I did on the telly, which I'm sure you are referring to," Stephen began. The stranger in the next cubicle waited patiently.

"How dare you?" He started. "How dare you create a world in which there is such misery that is not our fault? It’s not right. It’s utterly, utterly evil. Why should I respect a capricious, mean-minded, stupid God who creates a world which is so full of injustice and pain? Bone cancer in children? What’s that about? Because the God who created this universe, if it was created by God, is quite clearly a maniac, utter maniac. Totally selfish. We have to spend our life on our knees thanking you?! What kind of god would do that?

Stephen continued, "This world is splendid, yes, but in it there are insects whose whole lifecycle is to burrow into the eyes of children and make them blind. They eat outwards from the eyes. Why? Why did you do that to us? You could easily have made a creation in which that didn’t exist. It is simply not acceptable. It’s perfectly apparent that you are monstrous. Utterly monstrous and deserves no respect whatsoever. The moment I banish you, life becomes simpler, purer, cleaner, more worth living in my opinion."

Stephen was boiling inside at this point, feeling very smug and content with having cornered this man claiming to be God. This line always worked, it always stumped those gullible Christians.

After a few moments of silence, Stephen began to grow uncomfortable.

"Hello?"

"It is very painful, Stephen." Christ said, solemnly.

"What is?"

"River-blindness, caused by Onchocerca volvulus. Bone cancer is extremely painful as well. So is being burned alive, and being drowned. I haven't quite decided which is worse. Probably burning."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"Can I show you something, Stephen?" Christ asked.

"I suppose so. You've already drug me out of bed, what is it?"

A little door on the side of the confessional box opened, and a hand emerged and covered his eyes. The palm seemed rough, the hand of a working man.

Clearly not the hand of a 'god,' sitting high and mighty on his throne looking down at us. Stephen thought. He did notice a large scar in the center though. Could that be...

Stephen's world shifted, it was enough to make him dizzy.

"What... what happened?" The small cubicle was gone, and he found himself sitting in a garden.

It was a lovely place, he could appreciate that much. A cool breeze touched soft blossoms, sweeping a faint scent in the air. Stars and a full moon lit the sky, and the only sound was Stephens on heartbeat.

"Well, this is quite peaceful. Perhaps I'll get some rest after all." Stephen said out loud. No answer came. Perhaps he was dreaming that he was awake. That would certainly explain how he kept jumping around from place to place.

Just as he was settling against one of the short, mangled looking trees he heard voices approaching. A group of 10 or 12 men approached, stopping at a the gate of a little fence, and then proceeded to enter the garden. That is, most of them sat inside the gate, while one came deeper in, alone.

The man came forward, he was walking right towards Stephen.

"Um, hello." He said, uncomfortable at how close this man was getting. "Can you go to another part of the garden?"

The shadows danced on the man's face, but at one point a gap in the branches lit his entire face.

Stephen gasped. He knew this man! From... somewhere, long ago! Curiosity drove out discomfort, even while the man drew closer.

The man knelt, his arms resting on a stone. He was only a few feet away.

"Father, the hour is come; glorify thy Son, that thy Son also may glorify thee..."

Stephen knew that voice...

"And this is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent."

It was the same as... but it couldn't be!

"Jesus?" Stephen asked. The man ignored him, as though he could neither see nor him him, and continued to pray.

"I have given them thy word; and the world hath hated them, because they are not of the world, even as I am not of the world.

"I pray not that thou should take them out of the world, but that thou should keep them from the evil."

The words shocked Stephen back to his concerns. "Yeah, about that, Jesus! If you are so benevolent, how come terrible things happen to good people, innocent children, even your own worshipers! And don't give me that, 'I never said it would be easy I only said it would be worth it" nonsense. You never said that, it's not found in the Bible."

Jesus had stopped praying. Stephen didn't hear all of it, being consumed with his questions and accusations, but he had heard Jesus pray extensively for unity between himself, his followers, and his Father.

Something hand changed. Jesus wasn't holding himself the way he had before, he was straining somehow.... As Stephen watched the details seemed to be magnified better than he should have been able to see in the dim light.

 

Jesus' hands were clenched. His knuckles turned white. He clutched his side, and began to tip over, spilling onto the ground in a heap.

"Jesus?" Stephen asked, his brow furrowed in concern. He move forward to catch the man, but it seemed Stephen was here only as an observer. Jesus fell on his side and began to weep. Clearly in great pain, Christ began praying again, though this time it came out almost as a plea.

"O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me." Jesus's voice grew resolute, firm, and altogether meek. "Nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt."

What is happening here? Stephen thought.

Time passed, Jesus the Christ moaned as if in horrific agony, a terrible cry ripping from deep in his throat. Stephen moved to help again, knowing that he was unable to physically affect this poor man, but equally unable to stand idly by during such torture.

This time, however, his hand came away wet.

"Is that..."

"Blood." a new voice finished.

Stephen jumped. He thought he was alone here, and yet from a portal of light in the sky came a man in a pure white robe.

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" Stephen asked.

"I am Michael, though you would know me as Adam."

"Adam? As in Adam and Eve, Adam?"

"The same." He continued to move towards Jesus, who now lay prostrate on the ground, seeming too tired to care about his face mingling with the dust and stone. He was quieter now, it seemed the pain had subsided.

Stephen and Adam watched him for a few moments, and soon he got up and made his way back to the gate and started speaking with the other men. Stephen moved to follow, until Adam said, "Don't bother."

"Why not? Is he going to be okay? It was almost like watching a man die and return over and over again, that was unbearable just to watch!"

"He's not done."

"He... You mean he has to do that again??" Stephen yelled incredulously. Jesus had returned.

A tear escaped the Angel's eye. The look on his face was adoring love, but with a hint of something else. Could it be... guilt? 

"I don't understand."

"You will. At least, you will have the opportunity to understand. I hope, for your own sake, Stephen, that come to you understand."

"What does that mean?" Stephen asked cautiously.

"If you make decisions that prevent yourself from being taught by the Spirit, you will not understand. In that case, the word of the Lord must be fulfilled."

"And which word is that?"

The angel finally broke his gaze from the scene of his God and said,

"For behold, I, God, have suffered these things for all, that they might not suffer if they would repent;

"But if they would not repent they must suffer even as I;

"Which suffering caused myself, even God, the greatest of all, to tremble because of pain, and to bleed at every pore, and to suffer both body and spirit—and would that I might not drink the bitter cup, and shrink -

"Nevertheless, glory be to the Father, and I partook and finished my preparations unto the children of men."

Stephen stood, transfixed for a moment. Then, slowly turned back to watch Jesus Christ.

"Do you mean... if I don't repent, I would have to go through... that?"

"I don't mean anything. It is not my word, it is the Lord's. He is, at this moment, paying the price for you, so that you don't have to. Every pain of guilt from sin, temptation, and affliction of every kind, He is suffering it all for you. If He didn't, you and I would never have deliverance from these things. You could never be cleansed from sin, and never be with God and live in heaven. No one would. All of us would be damned to eternal pain and torment. Therefore, He sets the terms of our redemption. And thankfully, He is a merciful God."

Jesus' voice hoarse from crying, blood and dirt stained his robe and marred his skin. He began clawing at his eyes.

"River-blindness..."

Adam nodded slowly. "The greatest of all has descended below us all. And tomorrow, He will fulfill all hope."

"How will he do that?" Stephen asked. If there was anything the 21st Century needed, it was hope.

"He will die. And then, He will break the band's of death and be raised from the dead. All of our afflictions, though every loss is terrible for us to pass through as mortals, is but a small moment in the eternities."

"The eternities?"

"Yes." Adam answered. "Each eternity is billions of years. Your spirit is as old as creation itself, and will continue through worlds without end."

"But why do we have to pass through such sorrow? Innocent children suffering terrible deaths for no reason!"

"As my wife once said, 'It is better for us to pass through sorrow, that we may know good from evil.' She is a very wise woman, always has been." He smiled, obviously thinking of her.

He then continued, "Imagine if you were born in a world of light, where no variance or shadow was ever detected. What would be the point of seeing if there was nothing to see?"

"Okay...."

"Similarly, what would be the point of feeling if there was nothing to feel?"

"I see...."

Adam could tell the wheels were turning in Stephen's head.

Some time had passed now, and the pain seemed to finally subside. Christ stood, and began to return to the other men. They were sleeping again.

"Finally," Stephen said, "I'm glad that's finally over, this is more than I can bear to watch!"

"He's still not done."

"No! You must be joking!" Stephen exclaimed. "How can he continue?!"

"Because He loves us. The little girl with bone cancer, or the little boy with river blindness. The mother who lost her child, the children who lost their parents. How can they continue?"

"But he just keeps going back! Willingly! What's the point?! Hasn't he suffered enough?"

"No. Not until Mercy has more than satisfied the demands of Justice."

"I don't understand..."

"That's alright, Stephen, this part you don't need to understand at this time."

Jesus had returned. He went back to his position of prayer, but the pain must have hit him like a wave. He fell again, fingernails digging tracks into the dirt, totally overwhelmed by soul ripping agony that would have utterly destroyed lesser men.

It was more than Stephen could watch. In shame, knowing that he had part in God's suffering, he turned away, and hid his face.

More time passed. Finally Stephen asked, "Tell me this then. What does He get out of all this?"

"I'm not sure I understand." Adam said.

"What's his motive? Why subject himself to so much pain?"

"Power."

"Ah ha!" Stephen said, both victoriously, but... also a little disappointed.

"No, not that kind of power." Adam said. "He said it this way: 'For behold, this is my work and my glory—to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man.'"

"So literally everything he does is to bring about our immortality and eternal life?"

"Correct."

"Then again, why trials?! Why all this unnecessary suffering?! Couldn't the people come to Christ without such terrible suffering?"

"I think this quote has the answer you seek: 'I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them.'"

Stephen was quiet for a long time. "So, it's all to bring us back to Him? Every trial, every pain and affliction we have is to direct us to Him, to bring us to this point, the time in this garden where he suffered to gain the power to overcome sin and death, so that we can live eternally in Heaven?"

Adam smiled. "I have to go now, there is something I've waited thousands of years to help make restitution for."

Adam walked over to the Savior, lying on the ground. Jesus was clearly exhausted now, pain streaked his face. He was visibly shaking on the ground, a man consumed in pain.

How much longer could He go on? Stephen thought.

Adam knelt down beside the Savior of the world, and Christ looked up, eyes squinting through blood, sweat, and tears, directly into the eyes of the angel. Adam gripped his hand, and whispered, "As in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive."

Something changed in the Redeemer's countenance. The resolve had returned. Some form of power flowed into Him, inspiring Him in ways Stephen didn't fully understand. He stopped shaking, though the pain clearly continued. He rose again to His knees, and in the midst of the deepest pain He didn't curse God.... He prayed more earnestly. It was as though the Messiah remembered something....

Us. Stephen realized. He remembered us.

And with that, Stephen awoke.

But Stephen, a voice said inside his mind. That same familiar voice.... Will you remember me?

"I...."