A Job Well Done
Satan was feeling depressed. There was entirely too much peace
and happiness in certain locations.
Furthermore, even in some of those areas where war or hardship
prevailed, there were an alarming number of people who were
becoming interested in spirituality. The situation was desperate.
He assembled his troops. The troops trembled because they could
tell by Satan’s body language, as well as the anger which shone from
his eyes, that he was in one of his really foul moods – the kind which
made his normal demeanor seem almost angelic.
He began talking with an almost overpowering intensity and
urgency. The walls, floors, and ceiling shook in resonance with his
every word.
“I’m entirely dissatisfied with your efforts,” he said accusingly
to the companions, associates, affiliates, followers, and newbies who
had gathered at his behest.
He continued by saying: “More and more, I am hearing gut-
wrenching reports about human happiness, or human spiritual
realization, or human acts of forgiveness, generosity, and kindness.”
With tears in his eyes, he stopped, blew his nose with a red, heat-
resistant hanky, and as he was replacing the specially treated cloth
in a back pocket, he said: “I don’t know if you properly understand
how such reports eat at my heart and cause me great anguish. When
human beings are happy with God or engaged in seeking Divinity,
then, for me, it is like existence has lost its purpose.”
Thoughtfully, he scanned across the crowd. Here and there his
gaze stopped, flowing into the eyes of an individual, then, moved on.
He shook his head in a dejected manner and said: “You know
better than anyone what ensues when life loses its purpose ... despair,
depression, and emptiness are not far behind.”
He raised his arm and extended his forefinger into the space
above and proclaimed: “And, when it comes to issues of despair,
depression, and emptiness, I say – better humans than us.”
The crowd broke into a thunderous ovation. Like hockey players
paying tribute to a star player, the sound of pitchforks reverberated
throughout the room.
After several moments of bedlam, Satan signaled with his hands
and the noise gradually abated in compliance with his command.
Playing the gathering as he had thousands of times previously, he
smiled in his uniquely charming manner and said in his most
entreating way: “If you care about me, if you have love in your heart
for my mission, if you are desirous of my peace of mind or even your
own, then, please, double, triple or quadruple your efforts –
according to your capacity and circumstances – and lets see if we can
bring some real misery into the lives of human beings.”
He extended his arms in front of him as if he were embracing the
crowd and broke into a broad grin: “So, are you with me on this?”
His question immediately brought a resounding “Yes!”
He laughed and cupped a hand near his ear, saying: “What, I
can’t hear you?”
The sound of “Yes” became deafening. Satan beamed his
appreciation, and the gathering began to disperse as individuals and
small groups left the room with determination etched upon their
faces.
As they marched from the gathering, many of them secretly were
hoping that she or he would be able to come up with something which
was ... well, devilish clever – because they all longed to be honored
with an eternal membership in the coveted Hug of the Month Club
when some lucky denizen among Satan’s cohorts would, as a reward
for the most Satanically inspired strike against the enemy -- namely,
humanity -- be embraced, at a public assembly, by the oldest and
most infamous of those who sought to lead human beings away from
God and spirituality. The task which lay before them was a daunting
one, but Satan, once again, had fired up the troops into a state of
feverish, delirious dedication and abandon.
Quite some time passed and the occasion finally had arrived
when the winner of this cycle’s Hug of the Month award was to
bestowed. The finalists were seated on the stage, one on either side of
Satan’s brimstone throne, and there was a current of electricity
running through the atmosphere of the Hall in anticipation of
hearing about the stirring deeds, stratagems, and courage of the
nominees’ own stories.
The MC for the evening was someone who, apparently, once had
worked in television as a game show announcer, so he knew exactly
how to warm up an audience – not that there was much need of this
given the nature of the place where the celebration was being held.
After the MC had laid out the groundwork for the evening’s
program, he turned to his left and shouted: “Now, let’s here from
Contestant Number 1,” and as he said this, he urged the crowd to
lend a nice round of applause.
The individual stood up somewhat tentatively, peered into the
extremely bright, and very hot, flood lights which bathed the stage,
and nervously walked to the floor mike. Quickly finding his
confidence, he said: “Simultaneously, I have managed to start up five
different wars on four different continents, including, believe it or
not, Antarctica.”
A murmur of delight and awe rippled through the audience. The
man at the mike raised his hand indicating he was not through, and
when the crowd had settled down, he said: “And early reports
suggest there have been numerous deaths and casualties, as well as
the displacement of rather large population segments. The grief of
those affected, I have been told, has been nothing short of breath-
taking – at least from our point of view.”
The man gave a farewell, triumphant salute to the crowd with
both of his hands clasped above his head and returned to his seat.
The audience thundered its approval.
The MC returned to stage center and announced: “Without
further delay, let’s bring on Contestant Nuuuummmmbbber
Twwwwwwwwooooooo, and he turned and pointed in the direction
of his other left. The individual being pointed to by the MC bounded
from his seat and practically ran the short distance to the
microphone. He was anxious to tell his tale.
When the drama of the moment had built to an appropriate
level, the man paused, and, then, merely said: “I have spread
dissension between husbands and wives.” He was filled with pride for
his accomplishment and started to return to his seat.
Satan commanded him to stop. He ordered the contestant to
approach him. When the man came to within a few feet of the throne,
Satan rose and embraced the man, and in doing so, he had
announced this month’s winner of the Hug award with its eternal
membership perk.
There were shouts of protest from the audience. Sounds of
disapproval could be heard rising up in different parts of the Hall.
Satan glanced at the audience with nonchalance. He said: “So,
you think someone who starts five wars on four different continents
and, in the process, helps generate hundreds, if not thousands of
deaths, casualties, and refugees should be the winner?”
The audience was in a defiant and rebellious mood, and normally
Satan found this becoming in an individual, but not tonight. The
crowd clearly did not understand the significance of the
accomplishment of this month’s winner.
Satan requested silence and the very act of making a request,
instead of a demand, was such an anomaly, the gathering was
shocked into silence. Satan had a million and one tricks up the sleeve
of his smoking jacket.
“Look,” he said in a somewhat impatient manner, “wars always
come to an end, and, furthermore, wars rarely encompass the whole
world but tend to erupt in limited theaters of operation. Moreover,
although some people do die in wars, the people who are wounded or
the individuals who are displaced eventually get to resume their lives
– although, perhaps, with some degree of difficulty which is, of
course, an added bonus for our side.”
Satan let his words sink in, and, then, continued on: “But when
someone spreads dissension between husbands and wives, every
community, every city, every nation on the face of the Earth is
affected. The quality of human life goes downhill, children often are
abused and neglected, families – the bedrock of community life -- are
in constant chaos, disharmony, and misery as a result of such seeds
of dissension, and, quite frequently, the wounds inflicted through this
dissension never heal, remaining raw and painful for a lifetime and,
therefore, are able to infect numerous generations with enmity and
heartache.
In fact,” he concluded, “if the truth be told, the work of the man
you all wanted to win tonight, the guy who helped start the wars, his
work is made infinitely easier through the efforts of tonight’s real
hero,” and he hugged the winner again.
The audience erupted with elation and thunderous roars of
approval, regretting their earlier outbursts of immaturity. Man, they
thought, this Satan really knows his stuff.
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