There’s no doubting this hippie on the beach

I was walking along the beach the other day when a bearded old hippie with an unlit cigarette in his mouth asked if I had a light. When I said no, he shrugged as though it didn’t make any difference anyhow and snapped his fingers. And suddenly, the cigarette lit on its own.

It was a surreal moment, I kid you not, until an aura around the man began to brighten and I realized it was God. He pops up once in a while in strange places and in different forms to keep in touch with us errant humans. This form surprised me until I remembered that it was the way he appeared to Julia Sweeney. She said he’d be an old hippie with a cigarette in his mouth.

Sweeney, whose comedy talents are rooted in “Saturday Night Live,” wrote and stars in “Letting Go of God,” which is playing to packed houses at Hollywood’s Hudson Theater. Saying it’s about a woman raised as a Catholic who becomes an atheist doesn’t do the performance justice. It’s too funny for that, too profound, too introspective and too good to dismiss it as just a plot line.

It has been a terrific year for God, what with a new pope, a German, rising from the midst of a gentle and peaceful people to assume the throne of St. Peter, and the religious right enjoying new prominence in American politics. Both situations have suddenly made us all aware that God, like Santa Claus, is watching our every move to eventually decide who’s been naughty and who’s been nice.

I guess I was thinking of God the day I meandered along the beach, which is where I occasionally go to think things through, as Winnie-the-Pooh used to say. There is nothing like walking by the ocean to make one realize how insignificant and vulnerable we are.

The first thing I said to God when I realized it was, you know, Him, was that he shouldn’t be smoking, it would make him short and reduce his life span. An ex-smoker, like an ex-drinker, is not unlike a born-again Christian in that respect, always advising others in a smirky kind of way on what’s good for them.

“Whoaaah,” God said, “you’re talking to the Big One here.” He raised a finger in a gesture of comic pomposity. “I am the height of eternity with the life span of forever.” Then he wiggled his nose, the way Elizabeth Montgomery used to in the TV series “Bewitched,” and the cigarette turned into a stogie. “Want a cigar?” he asked, adding with a conspiratorial whisper, “They’re Cubans.”

He asked how things were going and I said, “Poorly.” But how could they be going poorly, he wondered, if he seemed to be more popular than a new edition of “Harry Potter”? I said that was part of the problem. “Everyone is using you to justify what they’re doing,” I said. “Therefore, whatever they’re doing is right, and nobody is wrong. Thinking has shut down in the face of faith.”

I realized after I’d said that that he put the words in my mouth. It reminded me of a line in Sweeney’s play when she comes face to face with the idea that she no longer believes in God. She feels free. Now, she says, “I can think and do and wonder and love.” Peggy Lee’s “Is That All There Is?” plays in the background.

When I asked God what he thought of the play, he paused for a moment and said, “I liked it.”

I didn’t ask him if he saw it, because he sees everything, even the evil in the hearts of those who use him as a source of power to subdue the masses. He senses false motives and hidden truths. He knows what the wind whispers and what the rain brings. He gave us the wisdom to doubt, he said on that sun-blessed day on the beach, because creation is built upon reason. He reminded me of a quote I learned in college, that faith is comfort but doubt is education.

In her performance, Sweeney races through time, technology and the Bible to support her contention that we’re just another species of animal and “when we die, we die.” There is no heaven or hell or any other kind of afterlife, she tells us, no bright light at the end of the tunnel or dead relatives gathering for a picnic.

God said it was all right not to believe in him. He imbued us with the need to make decisions that fit our own courses through life, but hoped that a sense of altruism might creep into our decision-making process. “You don’t need churches, temples or mosques to house your beliefs,” he said. “Believe in yourself, and all things will make sense to you.”

Then the cigarette reappeared in his mouth, and as he started walking toward the water, he said, “Say hello to Sweeney for me. And

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Al Martinez’s column appears Mondays and Fridays. He can be reached at al.martinez@latimes.com.