Imagine for a moment, the weight of the cosmos settling on your shoulders. Suddenly, inexplicably, you are… God. Omnipotent, omniscient, and undeniably in charge. The world, with all its beauty and brutal imperfections, lies before you, a vast canvas ripe for divine intervention. The question isn’t can you change things, but what would you change?
It’s a question humanity has grappled with for millennia, embedded in our religions and philosophies. We look at the world – a breathtaking symphony of nature juxtaposed with a relentless discord of suffering – and wonder: why? And if we had the power to orchestrate things differently, how would we tune the instruments?
This isn’t about theological debate; it’s a powerful thought experiment that forces us to confront our values and prioritise what truly matters. If we shed the constraints of earthly limitations and embrace the boundless possibilities of divine power, what aspects of our shared reality would we choose to reshape?
Perhaps the most immediate and visceral response is to eradicate suffering. The cacophony of pain, both physical and emotional, echoes across the globe. Disease that ravages bodies, natural disasters that decimate communities, the gnawing ache of loneliness, the sharp sting of betrayal – a divine hand might instinctively reach out to smooth these jagged edges. Would we eliminate all illness? Silence earthquakes and hurricanes? Wipe away tears with a celestial cloth?
Many might argue for the abolition of poverty and inequality. The stark contrast between opulent wealth and abject destitution is a glaring stain on the human story. A truly benevolent deity might ensure a fair distribution of resources, guaranteeing basic needs are met for every soul, eradicating hunger, homelessness, and the desperation that breeds crime and conflict. Imagine a world where opportunity is as abundant as air, where potential isn’t stifled by circumstance.
Then there’s the thorny issue of free will. If we were to simply fix everything, would we be robbing humanity of its agency and growth? Perhaps the divine redesign wouldn’t be about eliminating hardship entirely, but about mitigating its harshest edges and equipping humanity with the tools to overcome challenges.
Instead of wiping away all discord, maybe we would focus on amplifying harmony. Imagine imbuing every heart with an unshakeable sense of empathy and compassion. What if understanding and kindness were as fundamental as breathing? Would wars still rage if leaders felt the pain of every soldier lost? Would prejudice persist if we truly saw ourselves in the eyes of every stranger?
Perhaps the changes wouldn’t be grand, sweeping gestures, but subtle nudges. A divine hand might gently guide humanity towards greater wisdom and understanding, fostering a thirst for knowledge, a love for truth, and a profound respect for the delicate balance of our planet. We could instill an innate understanding of interconnectedness, reminding us that the well-being of one is inextricably linked to the well-being of all.
And what about the environment? Seeing the Earth, our beautiful blue marble, grappling with the consequences of human actions, a divine creator might feel a pang of regret. Perhaps we would rewrite the laws of nature to be more resilient, or, more likely, we would instil in humanity a deep, unwavering commitment to stewardship. We might inspire a global awakening to the fragile beauty surrounding us and the urgent need to protect it.
Ultimately, the answer to “If you were God, what would you change?” is deeply personal and revealing. It reflects our own values, our own pain points, and our hopes for a better world. Some might envision a paradise of perfect peace and comfort, while others might see a world sculpted for growth and resilience, accepting challenges as integral to the human experience.
This thought experiment isn’t about achieving divinity, of course. It’s about holding a mirror to ourselves, examining our priorities, and recognising the power we do possess, even within our human limitations. We may not be able to conjure miracles, but we can cultivate empathy, fight injustice, and strive to leave the world a little better than we found it. And perhaps, in that striving, we find a spark of the divine within ourselves, working towards the kind of world we would create if, even for a day, we held the power to shape it all.
Worldwide Temple of Aurora 