The sock that taught God about free will
an old religious story of mine.
Once there was a sock that got lost in the washing. Nothing special about it, apart from the fact that this sock belonged to God (God has a giant washing machine, the size of the Pacific Ocean. He creates hurricanes when He’s running it. And just imagine the size of underwear that gets washed in it!)
So the sock got lost. To God, that was a serious offence, since not one hair would fall off the head of even the most important of humans without His will, and here was His own sock refusing to obey Him.
The sock, meanwhile, set off travelling. God’s unmarried brother who lived with Him said he saw the sock lying on the beach in Goa, in India. A couple of angels were flying over the Swiss Alps and reported that he was hanging off the rock, halfway up to the top (since the sock performed unspeakable, the angels started referring to this piece of clothing as to “him” and not “it”). God Himself thought he’d seen the sock flying over Paris but He was not sure because the student rioters were burning the cars then and produced so much smoke that even God could not see things properly.
And just when the Almighty decided to wash up his robes again, he found the sock lying peacefully on the table in the cabinet.
‘What are you doing here?’ asked God, astonished.
‘I’m preparing to be washed,’ answered the sock humbly.
‘Where you’ve been before?’
‘In the washing machine… Where else?’
Now if you’ve lost a sock in the washing and in a week you find this very sock on your table, TALKING to you and claiming that he was in a washing machine all the time while you are absolutely, 100%, I mean really, totally sure that there was nothing left in the tumbler after you emptied it, you’ll get angry even if you are have God’s forbearance.
‘You liar!’ screamed God, grabbed the sock, threw it into the washing machine and turned the settings to the hottest and most dizzying cycle. Then He realised it would be silly to waste so much water and energy for one single sock, so He stuck the rest of the washing in, banged the door closed and pressed “start”.
Pheew. That was rough. God’s washing machine - no joke for the sinners.
By the time the washing, by action of God, was done, the Almighty relaxed a little bit, had some beer and wondered if humans ever lost their socks the way He did. You see, He never watched over those things - when you have a few billions of humans (number constantly increasing), and each human has 110 000 hair on his or her head on average, and you’ve got to watch every single hair, because none of it, naturally, can fall to the ground without your special permission - you can’t watch over human socks as well.
God had another drink, then He walked to His washing machine, opened the door and pulled out the washing. The weekday robe. The Sunday robe. The spare weekday robe. Underwear, underwear, underwear. Socks: after careful digging in the warm washing, pairing, counting and recounting there were six pairs and one single white holey Sunday sock.
‘Shshi…’ God was about to swear, but then remembered what sort of example He should be setting, and hissed instead.
Meanwhile, the matching Sunday sock was somersaulting in the air in joy, flying towards Scotland’s Speyside, single and carefree. He decided to go on a whisky tour and get soaked.
And it all was very well, apart from God did spot His sock this time.
‘Where do you think you’re going, eh?’ He asked from above.
‘To Munroes, to be closer to you!’ the sock answered quickly.
‘You did not have to leave Me to start with. Then you’d be closer to me than you would be if you climbed the highest mountain in the world!’ God retorted.
‘How about freedom to roam?’ the sock asked.
‘What do you want to do more - to roam freely or to be with Me?’.
‘Can’t I do both? You are everywhere anyway, or so they say!’
‘Yes, but even if I’m everywhere, I can’t get properly clothed when one of my socks is roaming somewhere on his own free will!’ God explained and suddenly realised that he just have said something that contradicted with His divine status. If he was Almighty and everywhere, how comes he couldn’t get the grip of his own socks? That was a philosophical dilemma. Moreover, it was a shame.
The sock was silent - very delicate of him. He sensed that God had had enough already.
‘My left foot is cold without you,’ the God finally broke the silence. ‘Honestly, you better not escape that often. Appear at least sometimes!’
‘Okey-dokey. I’ll come home tonight.’
And the sock kept his promise: at night he sneaked under the God’s duvet and pulled himself on God’s left foot. He was soaked in whisky, but God was so happy to find him again that he did not mind. In fact, it helped His rheumatism.
Since then, when God was losing socks in washing, he wasn’t too upset about it: he knew that the stray has his own free will and might come back one day if He were good to him.
The story was inspired by Mark's oral wisdom.
Once there was a sock that got lost in the washing. Nothing special about it, apart from the fact that this sock belonged to God (God has a giant washing machine, the size of the Pacific Ocean. He creates hurricanes when He’s running it. And just imagine the size of underwear that gets washed in it!)
So the sock got lost. To God, that was a serious offence, since not one hair would fall off the head of even the most important of humans without His will, and here was His own sock refusing to obey Him.
The sock, meanwhile, set off travelling. God’s unmarried brother who lived with Him said he saw the sock lying on the beach in Goa, in India. A couple of angels were flying over the Swiss Alps and reported that he was hanging off the rock, halfway up to the top (since the sock performed unspeakable, the angels started referring to this piece of clothing as to “him” and not “it”). God Himself thought he’d seen the sock flying over Paris but He was not sure because the student rioters were burning the cars then and produced so much smoke that even God could not see things properly.
And just when the Almighty decided to wash up his robes again, he found the sock lying peacefully on the table in the cabinet.
‘What are you doing here?’ asked God, astonished.
‘I’m preparing to be washed,’ answered the sock humbly.
‘Where you’ve been before?’
‘In the washing machine… Where else?’
Now if you’ve lost a sock in the washing and in a week you find this very sock on your table, TALKING to you and claiming that he was in a washing machine all the time while you are absolutely, 100%, I mean really, totally sure that there was nothing left in the tumbler after you emptied it, you’ll get angry even if you are have God’s forbearance.
‘You liar!’ screamed God, grabbed the sock, threw it into the washing machine and turned the settings to the hottest and most dizzying cycle. Then He realised it would be silly to waste so much water and energy for one single sock, so He stuck the rest of the washing in, banged the door closed and pressed “start”.
Pheew. That was rough. God’s washing machine - no joke for the sinners.
By the time the washing, by action of God, was done, the Almighty relaxed a little bit, had some beer and wondered if humans ever lost their socks the way He did. You see, He never watched over those things - when you have a few billions of humans (number constantly increasing), and each human has 110 000 hair on his or her head on average, and you’ve got to watch every single hair, because none of it, naturally, can fall to the ground without your special permission - you can’t watch over human socks as well.
God had another drink, then He walked to His washing machine, opened the door and pulled out the washing. The weekday robe. The Sunday robe. The spare weekday robe. Underwear, underwear, underwear. Socks: after careful digging in the warm washing, pairing, counting and recounting there were six pairs and one single white holey Sunday sock.
‘Shshi…’ God was about to swear, but then remembered what sort of example He should be setting, and hissed instead.
Meanwhile, the matching Sunday sock was somersaulting in the air in joy, flying towards Scotland’s Speyside, single and carefree. He decided to go on a whisky tour and get soaked.
And it all was very well, apart from God did spot His sock this time.
‘Where do you think you’re going, eh?’ He asked from above.
‘To Munroes, to be closer to you!’ the sock answered quickly.
‘You did not have to leave Me to start with. Then you’d be closer to me than you would be if you climbed the highest mountain in the world!’ God retorted.
‘How about freedom to roam?’ the sock asked.
‘What do you want to do more - to roam freely or to be with Me?’.
‘Can’t I do both? You are everywhere anyway, or so they say!’
‘Yes, but even if I’m everywhere, I can’t get properly clothed when one of my socks is roaming somewhere on his own free will!’ God explained and suddenly realised that he just have said something that contradicted with His divine status. If he was Almighty and everywhere, how comes he couldn’t get the grip of his own socks? That was a philosophical dilemma. Moreover, it was a shame.
The sock was silent - very delicate of him. He sensed that God had had enough already.
‘My left foot is cold without you,’ the God finally broke the silence. ‘Honestly, you better not escape that often. Appear at least sometimes!’
‘Okey-dokey. I’ll come home tonight.’
And the sock kept his promise: at night he sneaked under the God’s duvet and pulled himself on God’s left foot. He was soaked in whisky, but God was so happy to find him again that he did not mind. In fact, it helped His rheumatism.
Since then, when God was losing socks in washing, he wasn’t too upset about it: he knew that the stray has his own free will and might come back one day if He were good to him.
The story was inspired by Mark's oral wisdom.