I try to comprehend what must be the gap in complexity between man and God. Certainly the gap is huge, right? Surely more so than the gap between, say, human and amoeba.
So I look at my relationship to the amoeba. Suppose I created a safe environment for the amoeba and his incestuous family (damn sinners!) in their own petri dish universe. I would supply them with a base of agar nutrition and initial protection from enemies, ensuring maximum odds for survival.
What would I expect to gain in my relationship to these primitive creatures? I don’t know, probably nothing more than the excitement of looking at them in the microscope, maybe pointing them out to the kids – “Look at that goofy-shaped one!” – until I became bored with them and moved on to something else, possibly a new Wii game. I definitely don’t think they could keep my attention for thousands of years.
And I certainly can’t fathom the necessity of making any kind of rules for them to live by:
No reproducing without first marrying yourself!
No flagellating on Sundays!
A nuclei for a nuclei!
Honor your mom, because well, you’re her.
And I can’t possibly see what I would gain from any sort of worship from them. They’re dumb one-celled organisms! What could they possibly offer me?
In a word: Dysentery