Truth and Judgment by Gregory Harvey

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You haven't shown you're God. All you've shown is that you can resurrect the image of my wife, and plaster it on a wall," James said.
"Does not this show you my power?"
"No."
"What is it then that a God must do? What action would prove to you that I am God?" the voice said, still without any hint of irritation.
"Show me the universe."
Suddenly the walls of the ruby palace faded away, until James was left standing (floating?) in the darkness's crescendo. But then things changed again. The stars began to poke through into the fabric of space. Suns and planets and moons. Asteroids and comets. And then James was moving. His body was hurled through the galaxies, one after another. James' eyes were bombarded with colour as he slipped through a nebula. And then he was back, in the ruby palace, standing exactly where he had been before.
"You have seen but a portion of its infinity. Do you now accept?"
"No. Even if that was the universe, I have no way of knowing it. And even if that was the universe, it only proves you are capable of showing me it. Not a God," James said.
"You think I lie?"
"What motivation could I have?"
"You constructed a world of lies. How would I know?"
"I did not construct a world of lies. I constructed a world of humans."
"Humans. Your creations, who lie."
"The blacksmith may create a sword, yet never kill."
"But he needs to know how to kill."
There was a silence.
"It is a matter of belief; the most pure of human thought."
"I prefer knowledge."
"Knowledge is reliant upon perception, but belief relies only upon the human heart, the human soul."
"But does not belief rely on perception?"
"Does not perception rely on belief?"
Another silence followed.
"Bow your head James Martin," the voice said.
Reluctantly, James did as he was commanded. He could feel it before it struck him. His head began to swell with knowledge. Billions of facts swam through his mind at once. God. The universe. Humanity. James now knew everything he possibly could know. Yet he still was not satisfied.
"Now you know," the voice said.
"Perhaps. But how am I to know that the facts in my head are true? I did not discover them for myself. I have never seen instances of their implications. Perhaps my head has been filled with lies."
"Perhaps you let distrust cloud what it is that you know. Perhaps you have done this for your entire life. Perhaps you are one of many who have done so."
"How have I misplaced my trust?"
Silence.
James continued, "It is just on this instance that I cannot trust what my senses are telling me. You could be fooling me."
"But you were willing to believe that the sun rose in the east, and set in the west. You were willing to believe in four seasons, twelve months and three hundred and sixty five days."
"All those things I witnessed."
"Did you?" the voice said, and then, "So willing to place your belief in science, but so determined to discard the unknown out of hand. Science could never disprove me, because no one could ever prove science.