Secretary: Mr. Jefferson, the Lord will see you now.

Thomas Jefferson: Splendid, I suppose. So just—

Sec: Second door on the left.

God: Tom! Good to…can I call you Tom?

TJ: Sure. I mean, it’s your party, right?

G: Yes, yes. Indeed it is…

TJ: I’m a little surprised you have an office.

G: I can’t seem to get any work done out there. Everywhere I go, people gather and worship. I can’t hear myself think, what with all the praising. “Thanks,” I tell them, “but you’ve already made it to Heaven. You can relax now.”

TJ: I see. May I ask, if you don’t mind terribly, why I’m here?

G: In Heaven, or in my office?

TJ: Both, I guess.

G: Not long after our Grand Opening, it became quite clear to me that my guest list was, how shall I say, lacking in character? There are quite a few sadists and masochists, but that’s to be expected. The real drag are your everyday pious folk. You probably noticed an abundance of sweater vests adorned by my flock.

TJ: I wasn’t going to mention it, but yes, I did.

G: Hideous things. I tell them they can wear anything they want. They ask if I’ve got any sweater vests in pastels. Oh, and they ask for bridal gowns, which is super awkward, because I’m supposed to be the husband. I mentioned something about them being the bride of Christ once, as you well know. Weird, the things they latched onto. It’s pretty clear to me, as I re-read it, that “wife” is clearly among the least desirable roles in the Bible.

TJ: Certainly so. But…

G: Right, sorry, I rarely get to vent. Anyway, I desired more entertaining company, folks who might challenge me—at least play Devil’s advocate. I called Satan, who said he can advocate for himself, thank you—he can be touchy—but would send non-believers my way every once in a while. Whence comes Tom.

TJ: Well, I’m honored.

G: As well you should be. Now, I called you to my office because I got a chance to read your book…or, rather, your edits to my book. “The Life and Morals of Jesus of Nazareth.”

TJ: Ah, good.

G: Let me make sure I’ve got this right: You took the New Testament, literally cut out, with scissors, anything and everything supernatural or contradictory, then pasted the remaining parts together, sans my miracles?

TJ: Yup. What did you think?

G: My first thought was that you’d be exiled from modern America, not elected to lead it.

TJ: Ha, I know, right?

G: My second was, “Damn. That’s a much better book than mine.” It’s downright moral and good. It’s the book I’d write today, if I could. I wrote mine when I was young and impulsive, you understand.

TJ: I know how it feels to write things you’re not entirely proud of. Want to see contradiction? Read the Declaration of Independence and anything I wrote about slavery.

G: Remember who you’re talking to, Tom. Nothing did more for the cause of slavery than my books. So, listen. I called you in here because I want to reintroduce myself to the world. I’m losing credibility and influence. I want to write moral screeds, get rid of the stonings and wholesale slaughter. Lose the flood, the creation myth, the plagues, the whole lot, including Lot.

TJ: Jeez, God. I truly am honored that you read and liked my edits. But…I just…I’m not the man for the job.

G: Why not? You’ve used the term “Creator” in your most influential writing. You recognized the value of my work in your Jefferson Bible.

TJ: I was a Deist, ‘tis true, in that I believed in the laws of nature. Before Darwin, or modern physics, that was about as close to “atheist” as one could get. But I was never an advocate of yours, and I can’t see being one now. Surely, as I sit in your presence, I find it rather difficult to deny your existence. But your existence concerns me much less than your influence.

G: How so? And could you answer my questions using things you wrote while you were alive?

TJ: Sure. My opinion is that there would never have been an infidel, if there had never been a priest. The artificial structures they have built on the purest of all moral systems, for the purpose of deriving from it pence and power, revolts those who think for themselves, and who read in that system only what is really there. (To Mrs. Samuel Smith, 8/6/1816.) History, I believe, furnishes no example of a priest-ridden people maintaining a free civil government. This marks the lowest grade of ignorance of which their civil as well as religious leaders will always avail themselves for their own purposes. (To Alexander von Humbolt, 12/6/1813.) In every country and in every age, the priest has been hostile to liberty. He is always in alliance with the despot, abetting his abuses in return for protection to his own. (To Horatio Spafford, 3/17/1814.)

G: OK, I get that you don’t dig priests. We can downplay the clergy. But You’ll help me advance the faith, right?

TJ: Man once surrendering his reason, has no remaining guard against absurdities the most monstrous, and like a ship without rudder, is the sport of every wind. (To James Smith, 1882.) The general spread of the light of science has already laid open to every view the palpable truth, that the mass of mankind has not been born with saddles on their backs, nor a favored few booted and spurred, ready to ride them legitimately, by the grace of God. (To Roger Weightman, 6/24/1826. The last letter Jefferson wrote before his death on July 4 of that year.)

G: Can I at least get a blurb?

TJ: I’d really rather not.

Dave Balson is a senior journalism major.

He can be reached at 581-7942 or DENopinions@gmail.com.