Ibn, Arthur, and Holmes, for Their Probable Conflicting Views of Religion

Ibn, Arthur, and Holmes, for their probable conflicting views of religion

The world is changing, constantly changing; a melting pot of ideas and culture to form what we know. We know so little. Our knowledge is a room, and glimpse of what lies outside what we know is fleeting; we are afraid of what we don’t know. There is so much outside of our room, we try to imagine what lies beyond, but who can imagine God? I will tell you a tale of three men who tried to explain what is outside of our box, and it all started in a tavern, and that tavern was my box.

It was dreary weather that day, not a speck of sunlight shone through the dense clouds and the trees hung heavy, their limbs sagging towards the ground. Despite the poor weather, there was a sense of magic in the air, as if the sad forest was ready to shake off the rain and walk. If there was a day for fantasy to become reality, and heroes and legends to walk the Earth, it would be today.

My tavern sat on the edge of the woods, not much business except for travelers looking to rest before braving the forest. There were tales of ancient creatures ready to rip the flesh from the bones of unsuspecting explorers; of course most of the tales were created by me, but what’s the harm in a little extra cash from selling some cheap weapons from the nearby smithy? I’d never imagine a day when those tales came true.

It started with the woods, trees had changed from slumbering, lifeless stalks of bark to animated giants, each of their ancient limbs creaking with their movement. But what was more troubling, is what followed. Humans, dragons, trolls, and too many beasts too count came out of the woodwork. Many of the beasts stayed in the forest, some of the trolls got into a fight with the trees, Ents as I now know they’re called, the dragons took flight, and the humans and humanoids came straight to my tavern. It was a very weird day.

All my tables had been filled, and my barrels nearly empty, the Nordics and Dwarves were particularly heavy drinkers. Around me were short, angry men who spoke in gruff voices, tall, pale skinned people with pointed ears, old Vikings, some more short people who refused to wear shoes, but most peculiar were the three men sitting at one of my corner tables. At the table sat a man of nobility, a king perhaps, a tall man with a far off look in his eyes, who seemed to be taking in every last detail of my tavern and the people in it, and an older, Arab man, who had seen much on his travels. These were the three men who spoke of God, and these were the three men who have seen the truth.

I found myself drawn to these men, and sat at the table with them; however, by the time I had waded through the sea of fantastic peoples, they had already begun conversation. The Arab was describing his journey with Vikings when I arrived.

“They had lost a good man when I had arrived, and I was able to see the parting ritual” explained the Arab “They put the body on a boat, along with his possessions, and a slave girl. They light the boat and push it out into the water, to carry the warrior into Valhalla to be united with Odin and the other gods in paradise.”

“Blasphemy!” exclaimed the great king, “There is only one true God. The one who sent his only Son to die for us, and when we die, we will join in his Glory in heaven!”

“We do not need a savior from a death we do not experience, from a sin we do not have. Your Christ was a prophet, made from the Word of God, nothing more.”

The king was prepared to draw his sword, while the Arab was not much one for fighting. Before this dispute could turn bloody, the other man spoke. His far off gaze replaced by glint in his eye

“You are both wrong” retorted the Brit, “There is no God. There is no evidence for a god, and there never shall be. God is something humans created to explain something that they cannot explain.”

“By God’s bones!” Cried Arthur “What lies you speak you foolish man! If God is simply not real, then how do we exist? God is our divine Creator, our Lord, and Christ is our savior!” He slams a golden chalice encrusted with rubies onto the table. “God had given me a divine quest, to find the Holy Grail, the same grail that Jesus Christ himself drank from. Now tell me, if God is not real, then how do I have his cup?”

` “That could be anyone’s cup, you have no proof that your god had a child, and said child drank from this cup” replied Holmes “Once