On God: An Uncommon Conversation by Norman Mailer, Michael Lennon Page B

Thomas said you have to look inside yourself, John said, “Forget what’s inside yourself, look to the Gospels.” So you’d have a natural animosity to John.
    I do—and the Flesh was transmogrified into the Word. Most of us by now live with the Word, not the Flesh.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 
    But don’t you find the Gospel of John superior in its writing?
    The writing is better, yes, which is why people love John and why, of the four, he’s the most important. But he is tethered to the word that he helped to create—those loud-voiced, lying, Bible-thumping exhortation disseminators on TV who are also ready to sweep up your dollars, dear fellow Jesus lovers, fellow servants to the Word and the Book, just send it to me here at blank-blank dot com.

V

    Saints
    MICHAEL LENNON:
I would like to take up again the question of saints. I think you need to say more. In most religions, saints do play a tremendous role. They intercede for lesser humans. They give witness to God’s greatness. They are models for humanity by their ability to withstand suffering. Indeed, some of their suffering is self-imposed. Do you see saints in the same way as in the traditional religions?
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 
    NORMAN MAILER: You reach me on a weak point. I don’t know that I have a good deal to say. It does make sense to me that there are certain people whom God would feel close to. I suppose the subtext to such a remark is that God may not feel equally near to each one of us. In truth, I would doubt that He does. After all, the Devil is always doing His best to obfuscate the divine venture. So it’s not easy to reach us. Very few of us ever get a message directly from God or the Devil. (Of course, hysterics receive several a day.) Most of us are obliged to live with a subtle smudge upon our senses. Spiritually speaking, we inhabit a complex and contradictory environment. Theologically speaking, spiritually speaking, we may not be as near to ultimates as perhaps we were centuries ago.
    Now there are people who succeed, one way or another, of divesting themselves of most of the Devil. It’s hard for me to believe, however, that a saint can exist with nothing of the Satanic still residing in him or her. I can assume that saints are
relatively
pure, but the notion that they are absolutely so—well, given my temperament, it begs too many questions. It makes everything too easy. Because if saints are perfect, why the Hell do they fail so often? Does the Devil overtake them? Or—let me advance an essentially medieval argument—is the saint so good that the Devil has to use extraordinary and exhausting efforts to create a defeat, and so the saint serves God’s purpose by wearing the Devil out?
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 
    But not all saints are defeated.
    Give me an example of some triumphant saints.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 
    St. Peter.
    St. Peter! He deserted Christ three times.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 
    But then he redeemed himself and started Christianity.
    Yes, and Christianity may still be laboring under the fact that it was Peter who commenced it. You’ve got a three-time treacherous associate there—
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 
    There are other saints….
    I won’t say that people can’t repent, that they can’t restore their spirits back to something finer, but nonetheless renegades do have to remain under suspicion.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 
    That, in a way, brings me to my next question. Your God and your Devil are limited, and I assume—
    Not limited but finite. Certainly not infinite.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 
    I assume that human perfection is truly impossible for you, as you just said. If there were a human being who was All-Good, she or he would be better than God. And if we found an absolutely perfect human being, your theology would be hard-pressed to