God Lives In Mysterious Ways

Bit of a strange story on the Beeb the other day about a US judge throwing out a court case brought against God on the basis that the defendant doesn’t have an address (and therefore legal papers can’t be served). Perhaps a better reason would be because the defendant doesn’t actually exist, but there you go.

I’m not entirely sure I agree with Judge Marlon Polk’s reasoning though, as technically therefore, any homeless person is free to commit crime without fear of retribution. Additionally, as any good Christian will testify, God is omnipotent and is thereby surely a resident of every domicile worldwide, from the lowliest straw hut to the most opulent mansion. You could pick an address at random out of the phone book and he’s bound to be living there, no doubt helping himself to tea and biscuits in front of The Antiques Roadshow when everyone’s out.

I’m not sure where God lives in my house cos I’ve never seen him, but I suspect he’s under the stairs where we hang our coats and kick off our shoes. On the other hand, maybe he doesn’t exist at all and we haven’t got an imaginary lodger capable of raining down fire and brimstone upon our heads when his godly duties are interrupted, which is just as well given the amount of pairs of wellies or leather brogues constantly belting him in the face.