The Game Show

The Game Show

We are led through a series of nondescript doors and passageways; down, then up echoey stairwells, through a curtain and finally to a line of people; a very long line. As we inch forward the deep resonant tones of a professional announcer rumbles back to us. The pace and tone sounds upbeat and even exciting even if the words are indistinguishable from this distance. The people immediately around me are mumbling questions to each other, wondering what this is all about, what’s going on?
Finally I move through velvet ropes into a cavernous arena where a cheering and laughing audience fills thousands of seats. All lights and eyes are on the huge stage area where our line is filing up stairs to a gaudy, flashing set complete with blinking lights, silver sequins and waving flags. My fear was soothed a bit by the huge, boisterous almost celebratory affair. Maybe this will be fun, like a circus.
The smarmy voice was booming now, apparently announcing the name of each person as they moved in front of him. The central figure was clothed in a dazzling, somewhat garish suit with silver and metallic diagonal stripes that reflected the spotlights back to the crowd in shafts of white light that made it difficult to view him directly. Through the flashes I made out a white-blond pompadour piled up to a ridiculous height of six or seven inches. I could see no evidence of a microphone and yet the powerful voice seemed to clearly project to all reaches of the room. He had all the trappings of a daytime game show host guiding people along and advancing the proceedings in a smooth efficient manner. He was a pro.
When finally I stepped in front of him I was dazzled by his presence. Whatever bearing and confidence I had before melted away by his dazzling smile and piercing eyes. It was almost unbearable. I found myself stunned like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming semi-truck.
He announced my name to the mass of humanity without reading from a card or teleprompter.
He returned his gaze to me and said in deep, warm tones, “Hello, how are you James. I am God and I am hosting today’s game.”
He motioned towards a game wheel that stood 30 feet tall next to him.
“Jim,” He continued, “I want you to spin the wheel and try to win the game. It will be great fun.”
I couldn’t quite process whether I had caught his name correctly. I looked at the wheel directly for the first time. The enormous wheel had thousand of pegs evenly spaced around it. Beside each peg was a small window with a few words in each. I leaned forward a little to read a few at a quick glance: “Zoroaster’s, Philadelphia Evangelist Church, The Jains, Shintoism; middle period, Coptics.” , and so on.
“Ah, you’re wondering what the game is.” He said before I could ask.
“Well, you have one spin of the wheel and if by chance you land on the One Correct Religion, then you will abide with me in Heaven for eternity.”
“And if I don’t?” I said unable to hide the disbelief in my voice.
He leaned forward slightly and still smiling, spoke in low, friendly tones, “If you get a wrong one, any on of the thousands of wrong ones, you will immediately drop through the floor, fall for miles and miles to the infamous burning Hell where perfectly horrible little demons will begin to pull your skin off with red-hot pliers. Molten lead will be poured into your anus and large rusty nails will be pounded into your head for all eternity. And you know what? They are really good at their job. Ready to spin?”
The world began to close in on me. The room was listing back and forth. I could hear the crowd chanting “Spin, spin, spin!’
I gasped, “But that’s not fair.”
God leaned forward again and whispered in a smooth voice, “True. It’s not fair. But always remember, I love you.”