Socrates, a philosophical agitator in ancient Greece, was taken to court on two accusations: first, that he had corrupted the young with his philosophies and, second, atheism toward the Gods recognized by the State. Despite an impassioned defense, Socrates was convicted of these charges and executed.

Upon death, Socrates finds himself (or rather, his spirit) at the Gates of Heaven. Here he meets his maker, Yahweh.

Socrates: Where am I?

Yahweh: If I may borrow an allegory of yours, you escaped the cave. You’re in Heaven, Socrates.

Socrates: Oh, hey! Aren’t you the god of the Israelites?

Yahweh: That’d be me, yes. My name is Yahweh.

Socrates: So what brings you here?

Yahweh: I own this joint, actually. I’m just manning the gates until Saint Peter gets back from his lunch break.

Socrates: By Zeus! This beautiful place is yours? That’s wonderful.

Yahweh: Meh, it’s nice. I run it on the cheap, though. I employ child laborers from Limbo; they do the jobs angels won’t do and for a lower wage. Oh, and don’t let the streets paved with gold fool you—it’s only like 8 karats.

Socrates: Still, you must have worked hard to get where you are.

Yahweh: Actually, this God business was a self-appointed deal, what with my being uncaused and all. There was no job application, no election, no arbitrary Supreme Court fiat—nada.

Socrates: Wow. Lucky break. You say you run Heaven; do you preside over the Pantheon of gods, then?

Yahweh: Nope. Those pagan gods don’t exist—your atheism toward them was warranted. Good on you, Socrates. But I’ve got some bad news: I still have to send you to Hell. You didn’t believe in me, and that’s my biggest pet peeve. I’m a jealous god.

Socrates: In all due respect, that hardly seems fair. I was a lover of many virtues. Why do I deserve Hell?

Yahweh: How dare you question God Almighty, the Alpha & Omega, the Big Cheese! Look, Socrates, I call the shots here. And everything I decree is just.

Socrates: That begs the question: what exactly is justness?

Yahweh: This old shtick? I’ve heard of your rhetorical skills, Socrates. But I refuse to be your philosophical punching bag. Your lowly debate tricks are ineffectual here in my Kingdom.

Socrates: I meant no offense. I genuinely just wanted to drink from your well of wisdom.

Yahweh: You mean that?

Socrates: I do.

Yahweh: Well alright. What is just? Hmm. As I said, all I decree is just. So justness, I suppose, is whatever I decree.

Socrates (mumbling): Dumbass.

Yahweh: What’d you say?

Socrates: Oh nothing, nothing. I’m having a difficult time following you. Forgive me. So can you decree lying to be just?

Yahweh: Of course. I could conceivably do anything. But I would not make lying just. After all, I forbade my chosen people to bear false witness. That commandment is even written in stone!

Socrates: Why wouldn’t you make lying just, though? It would spare a lot of people the fires of Hell—politicians, lawyers, used car salesman, et al.

Yahweh: Ha! That’s funny because it’s true.

Socrates: More to the point, what moral reservations could you have against sanctioning dishonesty?

Yahweh: Oy Vey! You’re kidding. That’s easy, Socrates—dishonesty is obviously unjust.

Socrates: Only because you decree it to be so. Perhaps I misheard you, but I thought you just taught me that whatever you decreed to be just is just.

Yahweh: And I stand by that statement. There’s more to my argument, though.

Socrates: Enlighten me, Lord.

Yahweh: It’s like this: I am, by my nature, just; my decrees are in accordance with and an expression of that justness. So to make lying just would be to contradict my very nature.

Socrates: By Zeus, I think I follow you now.

Yahweh: Ahem! Thou shalt have no gods before me. Drop this “by Zeus” bullshit, please.

Socrates: I will; I swear on “The Odyssey.”

Yahweh: Ugh. I’d really rather you didn’t, but whatever. Continue.

Socrates: It is your nature to be just. I understand that. But we have yet to define justness. To say that you are justness and justness is you is to utter an empty tautology.

Yahweh: Huh? Tautology? I may be omniscient, but I’m not omnilingual—speak English.

Socrates: In other words, if justness equals you, then it makes no sense to say you are just. You’re simply saying that you are yourself. You devoid the word justness of its meaning and reduce it to a mere synonym for yourself. Surely there is a better way to demonstrate your justness.

Yahweh: Look, I freely admit that this is all very confusing, Socrates. Remember that the wisdom of this world is foolishness. I cannot expect you to fully comprehend these things.

Socrates: Thank you for tolerating my ignorance. But would you please try—for my sake—to explain your justness?

Yahweh: Okay, but my patience and interest in this discussion are wearing thin. It’s becoming increasingly apparent that you do not seek truth, but contention. Out of my infinite mercy, however, I will nonetheless educate you. When I say my nature is just, I mean to say that I am measuring up to standard of justness.

Socrates: Interesting. So justness is something all by itself, apart from you?

Yahweh: Uh, I guess it would have to be in order for me to measure up against it.

Socrates: What assurance do I have that you are constrained to follow this objective standard of justness? Why should I trust that your damning me to Hell is just?

Yahweh: Again, it is my nature to be bound to the standard of justness.

Socrates: To what exactly are you bound? The question persists: what is justness?

Yahweh: Socrates, you are too dense to understand it were I to tell you. Can we please set this issue aside?

Socrates: Very well. I did want to explore one last thing, though: your nature. To have a nature is to mean that you are defined and therefore constrained—that you are one way and not another. Right?

Yahweh: Exactly. I could not, to revisit your example, make lying just.

Socrates: I remember you saying that you could make lying just, but would not.

Yahweh: Maybe I misspoke. I don’t know; I don’t care. This is just a silly exercise in semantics. The fact is that I could not make lying just—it is contrary to my nature.

Socrates: If you cannot make lying just, as you conceded, then, you are not all-powerful. But you, the Judeo-Christian God, must be all-powerful. It, too, is integral to your nature. And given that you are not all-powerful, you cannot be God.

What’s more, a person is just, in large part, by choosing justice over injustice. However, you do not have this choice as per your nature; you have to be just. In what way, then, can you be called just? In what way can you even be called God?

Yahweh: Perhaps I don’t have a nature at all. What now, Einstein?

Socrates: That is equally problematic. Without a nature, you have no limits. Without limits, you have no identity. And to be without an identity is to not exist at all.

Yahweh: Certainly, I exist! “I think, therefore I am.”

Socrates: Frankly, it would be generous to call what you’ve been doing in this discussion “thinking.”

Yahweh: You are as aggravating as you are ugly, Socrates! I can understand why you were executed. If sending you to Hell is unfair, it is unfair only to Satan! Enjoy your eternity in torment.