No thoughts. Just quotes.
God – A man had 3 boxes. Each box weighed 5 pounds. The man weighed 190. The bridge could only support 200. How did the man make it across the bridge with all his boxes?
Joan – This is just cruel.
God – How did he get across, Joan?
Joan – (she moves her arms and glowing balls around in the air) He juggles. Yes, ok. I get it. He keeps one box in the air the whole time. Yes, I get it. What are you saying? That–that if I juggled boxes across a bridge I’ll see Judith again?
God – Joan, the bridge is life. The boxes hold your feelings– your love, your joy, your pain, your loss. Everyone is crossing a bridge with more weight than they can bear. So you juggle.
*
God – Well, there’s so many different people. They all need a different way of relating to me. And that’s what religions are– different ways to share the same truth.
*
People who changed the history of the world because of their unique and singular vision and their belief in that vision and not because of a diploma.
*
God – Want to play, Joan? (chess)
Joan – What, now God wants to beat me, too?
God – You have to stay in the game.
Joan – I am, as a decorator. There’s nothing wrong with that.
God – No, if that’s what you really want.
Joan – (sitting down) You know, I have a very good color sense. Even Adam thinks so, and he’s an artist, even though he hates me right now.
God – I know you’ve had a difficult time lately, losing Judith, questioning me. But you’ve learned so much. Use it.
Joan – How? Every time I think I’ve learned something, something else gets thrown at me. You know, Adam or Roger or feeling like a loser. Just makes me feel clueless again.
God – That’s because you see each event as an end in itself. But they’re all just small parts of something much greater, something that never ends.
Joan – You’re very matrix-y today.
God – You do everything that I ask without knowing where it’ll lead because you have faith. Have some in yourself. Other people do. I do. Joan – You’re being really nice to me. That’s weird.
God – Because I want you to see how much stronger you are than you think. Failure and disappointment– you’ve been through it before. It’s all part of the game.
Joan – But this isn’t a game. This is my life.
God – Every act you undertake– working at the bookstore, helping someone, even playing rock, paper, scissors– each of those choices is a move, and every move informs the next and changes you and everyone else like moves on a chess board. So there has to be a way to win. Sure. By playing.
*
God – Don’t be frustrated, Joan.
Joan – Why not? Things are a little bit out of control, don’t you think?
God – From where you stand, it may seem that way. But from my viewpoint, everything’s perfect.
*
God – When someone shows the world what people are capable of, they become an inspiration.
*
God – People don’t really belong to each other, Joan, regardless of what contract they sign. They choose each other every day
*
Little Girl God – And they all lived happily ever after. There’s a surprise. You guys really like that ending.
Joan – Yeah, well, you have a better one?
God – They all moved towards spiritual growth and enlightenment?
Joan – Yeah. That’s gonna work with the kids.
God – Ever notice that the guy always has to risk his life and the girl is nearly dead when he finds her? It takes a kiss to wake her up, and they ride off together. It’s a nice metaphor.
Joan – For what?
God – Death and resurrection.
Joan – Yeah, well, that’s a fun party game.
God – It happens all the time. The illusion dies so that something deeper can take its place. Joan – Are you saying that… Adam and I are an illusion?
God – Romance serves a purpose. It’s a meditative state. It puts logic to sleep so that people can come together. Otherwise, you guys probably wouldn’t risk it.
Joan – Why did you have to make love so complicated? I mean… couldn’t that one thing have been easy?
God – Love is big. It’s a bright light in the universe. And a bright light casts a big shadow. So what do you want to do, Joan? Joan – How am I supposed to know?
God – By looking at it. Real love is hard work. You have to decide if you want it in your story. Or…if you’d rather just stay in the dream.
*
God – Falling into silence just makes it impossible to survive. Your existence depends on the relationships you have with other people, Joan. Just as matter can’t exist in the absence of energy. See, it’s how I made the world.
*
God – Seeing the results of your actions is not important. Only the actions are. Like a recluse who wrote poems she never published… and here they are, touching people 100 years later. Your work is out there, Joanie. You just got to have faith.
*
Joan – God feels guilt?
God – Such an interesting question. Of all the life on earth, only humans experience guilt. Or innocence, or that matter. Dogs don’t. Birds don’t. Fish don’t.
Joan – Ok, I got it.
God – You see, you’re the only creatures with a conscience. The only ones able to distinguish between right and wrong. Recognizing it is the real problem, though, isn’t it? Don’t you love exploring such a complex issue? You should join mock trial. They love talking about these things, too.
*
God – Preparing the case, Joan?
Joan – Yes. Does god want to sit second chair?
God – This one you’re gonna have to figure out for yourself.
Joan – Oh, well, there’s a first. I can’t believe they’re going for self-defense. He so killed that guy.
God – Everyone has their own rationale for why things happen.
Joan – Yeah, and sometimes things are either wrong or right. You said so yourself. God – Yes, but figuring it out can be a real trial.
Joan – Cute.
God – [Chuckles] Thanks. You see, a trial is just an outward representation of what goes on inside people all the time. The moral debate: Am I good or bad? How do I behave in this or that situation? It’s a state of examination where hopefully, you find the truth.
*
Joan – You knew and you didn’t tell me. That’s your idea of justice?
God – I don’t interfere. You know that.
Joan – Yeah, well maybe free will wasn’t such a great idea. I believed in him.
God – I know. That’s what makes it hurt so much.
Joan – What did I do to deserve this?
God – Nothing. This isn’t punishment, Joan. It’s simply part of being alive, of being involved, of loving.
Joan – Yeah. I’m not doing that anymore. I’m never doing that again.
God – I know how painful this is. But what you and Adam had was beautiful, too. And that was every bit as real as the pain that you’re feeling now. You experienced how deeply two people can be connected.
Joan – So what do I learn when someone I trust destroys all that, huh? Maybe it was never real. Maybe you’re not even real, you know? This whole morality thing, right and wrong, it’s all just junk. We’re all just animals, taking what we want.
God – Do you know what innocence is, Joan?
Joan – You know, I don’t want a mock trial right now.
God – Well, it’s more than an absence of guilt. It’s having faith that there’s goodness in the face of cruelty and pain. Someplace, you still feel that way. And that’s me. And I’ll always be there. Oh, honey.
*
God: The Persians make the most beautiful rugs in the world– not that I play favorites. But on each rug, no matter how intricate and exquisite, the artist makes sure there’s some small defect. It’s called a Persian Flaw. It’s a recognition that perfection exists only in me, an acceptance that life can never really be lived exactly the way you expect. I love the colors. Nice.
*
God: You feel how painful it is to try and sever a connection, but they can never really be broken. All of creation shares a common thread, like your scarf. How you use that thread becomes the pattern of your life.