Yesterday, in response to Steve's comment that "[God] isn't worth having a discussion over; waste of time and breath," I commented that "on the contrary, it's endlessly entertaining! Surely the biggest joke anyone ever told." Being a slow-witted writer, I of course failed to take advantage of the opening to say instead,
the greatest joke ever told. But it did put me in mind this morning (on my walk with Siegfried) of the 1965 feature film directed by George Stevens and released by United Artists (after a lengthy pre-production period
involving 20th Century Fox and a cast of characters almost as numerous as the credited actors).
I'd forgotten that John Wayne played the Roman centurion who comments on the crucifixion, "Truly this man was the son of God." Yes, I'm sure that I saw the film. Must have. Who didn't?
And given the year of my life, I probably watched it believingly, or at least trying to do so. Steve also commented, "You believe or you don't." I don't know whether he allows for beginning to believe, ceasing to believe, or trying to believe, but people do come to crossroads where they decide to believe or stop believing, or stop trying to do one or the other. I remember somberly reading as a teenager C.S. Lewis's conversion memoir,
Surprised by Joy, the very copy given me by my high school English teacher. And there was my own decision, almost two years ago (I may comment on the anniversary on September 9).
If God isn't worth discussing, then so much greater is the joke on all of us who once believed—and perhaps even greater on those who still do. But not at all of course on those who never wasted any time or breath on the subject. I guess it would be a joke on them only if God actually did exist.
