The Reluctant Jesus: A Satirical Dark Comedy (28 page)

“They are in there, waiting for you,” said Bernard, in his monotone voice. It seemed Bernard would not be joining us further. He turned and headed back to the gate where he raised the drawbridge courtesy of a wooden pulley lever. Once he raised the drawbridge, he closed the gate. He turned and saw Bill and I had not moved.

“Go on,” he shouted, “what are you waiting for?” He gestured and pointed with his arm, motioning for us to move forward. Bill and I complied with Bernard’s zealous and enthusiastic pointing and gesturing, and walked forward, albeit slowly and pensively, toward the great hall.

“Who was he?” asked Bill as we both spun around to see Bernard removing his cloak and heading toward a small plastic chair that sat beside the drawbridge’s pulley lever.

“I have absolutely no idea,” I said and shrugged at the same time, “pretty strange character, though,” I added. Bill agreed that Bernard had indeed been an unlikely gatekeeper.

We were about ten feet away from what we assumed was the main entrance to the great hall when the bulky, large, double oak doors flung open widely. I immediately recognized the voice.

“You’re here, welcome, welcome,” said God as he stood at the entrance of the impressive building. “Found us ok, did you? Good. Did Bernard let you in all right? Fantastic. You are a little early, but that’s not a problem. Just glad you got here in one piece; well, two pieces, seeing as there is two of you.” God laughed at his observation.

So here at last was God. He stood with his arms outstretched as if about to hug both Bill and Me at the same time with a big, beaming smile spread across his face. I liked the look of him immediately. Sometimes when you see a person for the first time, you get the feeling if you are going to like them or not. I definitely had a good feeling from God.

We all have our own personal images of God in our minds, though no one, apart from Bill and I, that was, has ever seen him. Most people have an idea what God looks like. Whether that image resembles the painting by Michelangelo of God atop a cloud with his white hair and beard, or maybe they imagine a more personable appearance, I am not going to spoil anyone’s surprise, because sooner or later, you’ll find out what he looks like yourself. I will simply say he looked friendly and exactly how
I
thought he would look.

As Bill and I entered the great hall, God embraced me. He hugged me like an old friend I hadn’t seen in years or, as was the case here, as a father would embrace a son. He grabbed my shoulders and pulled back as if to inspect me.

“Let me look at you,” he said, and then turned to face Bill, “and you must be young Bill,” he said as he grabbed Bill’s hand and shook it vigorously. I supposed everyone was young to God: young Lincoln, young Churchill, and young Moses. I guess that when you were the one to get the ball rolling, and when you were however thousands of years old God was, everyone was younger than you.

“Welcome, welcome,” he said again ushering Bill and Me into the great hall. He looked around him and widened his arms, gesturing with his hands. “Welcome to HQ. Well, sort of HQ; this is more of a retreat from the hustle and bustle of our main office. We sometimes use it as a getaway, for weekends, and for senior staff.” I was curious no more.

“So, this is Heaven? I mean, outside the castle, the meadows, and the orchard?” I asked God as he led Bill and me into the great hall.

“Part of it,” said God, “you must realize that Heaven is more than a million times the size of Earth. It houses many, many residents from different time periods. This small area, and I mean the area outside the castle walls is pretty much undeveloped.” Undeveloped was right. As an architect based in Manhattan, to have that much open space to work with would be, well, Heaven.

God explained that time and other concepts, such as movement, were different in Heaven than on Earth; while he had duplicated a lot of man’s structures and buildings in Heaven, he had done so to acclimatize new residents. The castle, he explained to Bill and Me, was originally intended as a transitional resting place for knights killed during the crusades before they were transported to Heaven proper. The idea was to gently make them realize they would soon be meeting their recent foes, and when they discovered they all had been fighting for the same God, they wouldn’t be too traumatized. God beckoned Bill and I to follow him further into the hall.

“Everyone’s here,” he said, “everyone that needs to be, that is. A couple couldn’t make it, but not to worry,” he confirmed. “It’s a bit warm; we had to adjust the heat for your father,” he said motioning toward Bill, “but we have plenty of iced tea, wine, and water. The caterers have done a fantastic job; I got Saint Lawrence to head up that. Considering he is the patron saint of cooks, I thought he’d do a good job. I like to do that, allocate tasks and projects to the right Saint; kind of keeps their hand in, if you know what I mean.” God nudged me and flashed another one of his broad and beaming smiles.

He was not exaggerating about the heat. It must have been at least ninety degrees in the great hall, and a waft of warm air hit us as soon as we left the vicinity of the door. The great hall was just how Bill had described it to me during our journey; it was a massive room with a high ceiling, and I would say at least three hundred feet in length and about two hundred feet wide. The feeling I got was definitely medieval; I had seen movies on TV about Robin Hood and Ivanhoe, and I had to admit, it seemed Hollywood had got it right. There were doors to the rear of the room which I presumed led to the chapel, as Bill had explained. Hung on all four walls was shields and banners. If they were duplicates created by God or the real thing brought by the fallen knights who had once passed through, I could not tell. About halfway along and in the center of every wall were large, beautifully crafted stained glass windows, which emitted light into the hall. I noticed there were though a few additions that the knights of old would have not seen during their time on Earth. Vector heaters sat at various locations, turned high to accommodate Lucifer. On a table, situated alongside the left-hand wall, sat a table laden with food and drink containers. It reminded me of a franchised hotel’s complimentary breakfast buffet, with a microwave on standby, and pots that I presumed contained coffee and tea. I guessed this was the result of Saint Lawrence’s efforts.

In the middle of the room, taking center stage was a large, round table. I had never seen such a table before; it was approximately eighty feet in diameter and took up much of the floor space. It seemed to be made of oak or some other sturdy wood. It looked antique as if it had seen a lot of debates. As conference tables went, it had to be the most impressive I had ever seen. Spread around the table were ten chairs, evenly distanced from each other, which I guessed would have been from the same time period and designed by the same man who built the table. I noted three of the chairs were empty, but seven were occupied. God placed his hand on my shoulder.

“Admiring the table, eh, son?” he asked. “It’s not a copy; it is actually the original. I managed to get it up here just before Camelot disappeared forever and just after Arthur arrived. He was delighted to see it again.”

“You mean that this is
the
round table?” I asked, “The one from the Arthurian legend?”

God smiled and nodded his head. “Yes, but that was no legend; well, some of it was exaggerated. Merlin was no wizard, but the rest of it is true.” I was tempted to ask about the Holy Grail but didn’t. I would let someone else tell that tale. God led Bill and me to the table, and though nobody seated needed an introduction, God, being the congenial host that he was, introduced Bill and me to some of the most recognizable faces in the history of mankind.

“Ok,” said God, taking a deep breath and still smiling widely, “I’ll go around the table quickly and introduce everybody.” Bill and I stood open mouthed. Were we dreaming? It had to be the most surreal moment of my life to date, and I was the guy who walked on water!

“This is Mahatma,” Gandhi rose and shook my hand first, then Bill’s. “He doesn’t say much,” said God, “but when he does, we listen. Very resourceful, and he has great stamina. He was a little disappointed when he got here originally; expected to be reincarnated, didn’t you?” God playfully rubbed Gandhi’s bald head. Gandhi nodded, smiling. “But he soon got over it.” God led Bill and I to the next seat.

“Mother Teresa of Calcutta,” announced God.

“Please don’t stand,” said Bill as Mother Teresa began to rise. Mother Teresa gave a stern look and then smiled. She took my hand and shook it warmly even though her grip was not strong. She then took Bill’s hand at the same time.

“Now, you two boys,” she said in perfect English, “you be careful. You do know it can make you go blind?” Bill looked at her and tilted his head as if confused, and I felt myself blush.

“Next,” said God as Mother Teresa returned to her seat from half rising, “Saint Peter.” Saint Peter did not rise but nodded at both Bill and I.

“Hi,” we both said together and waved at the bearded gentleman who was dressed in a flowing white robe and sandals.

He dabbed his forehead with a tissue. “Phew, it’s hot,” he said, smiling, as he waved the tissue in the air in a mock attempt to fan himself.

Next up was Joan of Arc, clad in full body armor and sporting, as I had always envisaged, a ‘bowl haircut’. She too felt the effects of the heat, which surprised me. I would have thought she would have been used to the heat.

“Hello,” she said, smiling as she bobbed about in her seat. “Hot in this armor,” she said and gestured with her hand across her brow to emphasize the heat. “You’d think I’d be used to it by now!” She laughed loudly at her own joke. It wasn’t a typical laugh but instead sounded like a pig snorting. She bobbed even more in her chair. Bill and I smiled at her weakly and proceeded to the next seat.

“Over here we have my old friend and sparring partner, Moses,” exclaimed God. Moses was downing an ice tea when we reached his seat.

“Excuse me,” he said as he wiped his hand across his mouth and then offered it to be shook. “Just grabbing a quick refresher before we start.” I nodded my understanding. I was amazed at how much he resembled Kirk Douglas.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said as he circled his face with his finger. He smiled and winked, “They cast that movie all wrong. The funny thing is that Spartacus, the real one who lives on the same block as me, is a dead ringer for Heston!” Moses threw his hands up in the air as if the whole thing was an unbelievable oversight by Hollywood.

The next two attendees seated at the table certainly didn’t need any introduction. The one with the red skin, horns, and little goatee beard was obviously Bill’s Father. Lucifer rose as we approached, hugged Bill, and nodded at me.

“Good to see you, son,” he said in an accent that Bill had already placed as Texan.

“Hi, Dad,” said Bill, sounding like a schoolboy who had been kissed and hugged by his Mother in front of his friends. Lucifer looked pleased.

“Look at my boy,” he boasted to the seated ensemble, “a chip off the old block if I do say myself.” He playfully ruffled Bill’s slicked back hair, which, due to the amount of gel on it, made it stand up like porcupines.

I personally could see no family resemblance whatsoever, and I doubted the others in the room could either, but out of politeness, everyone implied they could see Bill was exactly like his father. Lucifer, or Satan as he liked to be called, gave me a nod and offered his hand.

“Lucifer,” he announced, “but I prefer Satan,” he said as we shook hands. “So what do you think of my boy?” he asked, still holding onto Bill’s shoulder with the hand I didn’t shake. “Ain’t he something?” I agreed that Bill was indeed something. “We’ll chat later, son,” said Satan as he finally released his grip on Bill’s shoulder and returned to his seat; he flashed me a smile and raised his hand “Good to meet you.” God led Bill and I to the final occupied chair.

“I think it is about time you met your brother,” said God.

“Half-brother,” I reminded.

“To be decided,” said Jesus as he rose from his seat.

CHAPTER

JESUS WAS AS I HAD
always imagined; well, facially anyway. He had long hair and a beard. His complexion was swarthy, and I could see that in his day, many would have considered him an attractive man. He was dressed as though he had just flown in from the beach. He wore flared jeans and a white, baggy T-shirt; on his feet he wore flip-flops. He was, for all intents and purposes, the original hippy, and would not have looked out of place at Woodstock. He, unlike the other occupants of the great hall, was not smiling. I took his reluctantly outstretched hand.

“No holes,” I said jokingly.

“What?” said Jesus, a stern look on his face.

“Your hands, you know, the crucifixion, the nails…there’s no holes in them,” I said gesturing to his palms, prodding my finger into the center of his hand. It was a silly joke, and considering the tension that already existed between us, in retrospect it was probably not apt. I remembered Harvey’s warning of not “jiving” up here.

“Oh, goody gumdrops,” exclaimed God cheerfully, “glad to see you two are getting along.” He put one arm around my shoulder and the other around Jesus’s. Jesus didn’t say anything, just looked me up and down with a look that I would describe as contempt, and took his seat. He gave a quick nod of his head in the direction of Bill as a halfhearted greeting. It was obvious he didn’t like me. Lucifer, meanwhile, had risen from his seat and was going around the table, like any proud father, showing off Bill to the rest of the group. I took my allotted seat as indicated by God, which was in between Gandhi and Saint Peter and directly opposite Jesus. Jesus eyed me suspiciously as he fiddled with his pen. I smiled at him, but he did not return my smile.

Once Lucifer had stopped showing off Bill, and they had taken their respective seats, God took his chair which was bigger than the rest. With his big smile spread across his mouth, he tapped a pencil on a glass in front of him to indicate he had opened the proceedings. All heads turned toward God and any chatter immediately ceased. He stood to address the table.

“Well, as you all know, the last few weeks, especially the last few days, have been very trying indeed.” He had both hands on the table, and he leaned forward, his head going around the table as if addressing everyone individually. “You have all met Bill and Seth.” He looked first at Bill, then me, “and I am honored to have them here.” There were murmurs of “here, here” from various places around the table. I noticed that Jesus was not one of those agreeing with God. “Of course, there is a reason for their presence at HQ today, and indeed, the presence of our old friend and dare I say ‘nemesis,’ Lucifer, who….” God drew his finger toward his chin and tapped it as if thinking, “now when it was it….” God pondered, “ah yes, who hasn’t been here for over fifty thousand years, isn’t it?” Satan smiled. It seemed he didn’t mind God calling him Lucifer, but I doubted he would allow anyone else to call him it.

“Fifty-two,” he corrected, raising his hand.

“Fifty-two!” shouted God, “It seems like yesterday.” A few around the table, including Lucifer, laughed at God’s words. Lucifer hadn’t been back to HQ since he fell from grace and started up his own “franchise.”

“Well, welcome back!” said God to Lucifer. “It’s good to have you here.”

As I had already gathered, God and Lucifer did spend time together but always on neutral ground. They seemed very friendly, and God was obviously delighted to have his old angel back in Heaven, if only for this extraordinary meeting. It was obvious to anyone that Lucifer still held God in high regard, and it seemed they had put their differences behind them regarding Bill’s abandonment and God’s extended travel plans thirty-two years before.

“I will now bring you all up to date on the full events leading up to today’s ‘pow-wow.’” God shuffled some papers laid on the table in front him and consulted what I assumed were prepared notes. I hoped whoever had prepared his notes was competent; I had heard so many horror stories about the admin department in Heaven, I feared that some inexperienced flunky might have passed God the wrong paperwork. I imagined he had plans for the building of an ark or how to slay a giant with a stone laid out in front of him. He produced from nowhere a pair of reading glasses, which he perched on his nose. Luckily, the notes were the correct ones. God cleared his throat before speaking.

“Originally, when the chapter Revelation had been written and included in the Bible, it seems I approved the final draft for publication without reading the whole thing through thoroughly.” God raised both his hands, admitting it was his mistake. “I hold my hands up to that! It was my fault and my responsibility to double check its contents, and I apologize for my tardiness.”

There were murmurs of “no, no,” and “not at all,” from his forgiving audience. But God waved them away. “No, it was down to me; I should have read it.” He dropped his hands and continued to speak; as he spoke, he occasionally referred to his notes. “So, it appears that for nearly two thousand years, man has been expecting some sort of final conflict and ultimate battle to determine the end of the world. This battle is to be fought between our good friend Lucifer and his agent on Earth, and the ‘lamb.’” He pointed toward me, toward Bill, and then Lucifer.

“This final battle was scheduled to close to the year two thousand, as not to disappoint the millions of souls who were expecting this final battle and end of days. Lucifer and I agreed we would both delegate two champions to fight on our behalf. In 1966, we found suitable mothers for these humans, and our two sons were born.” Again he gestured to Bill and me. “Some of you may recall that back then, there was some discussion as to why I had not chosen Jesus to return to Earth, as many were expecting a second coming and the return of Jesus.”

I glanced across at Jesus, who nodded to himself as if to say “yes, why not?” He saw me looking and once again, he gave me a look of utter contempt. I smiled weakly at him, but he shook his head and turned his attention back to God.

“I did consider this option,” continued God “and, in fact, it was my first option and for a long time my favored option.” Jesus looked at God as if surprised by the announcement. It appeared that this was news to him. “After much deliberation, however, I felt there were a number of reasons I should not send Jesus back to Earth. My first reasoning was that we would have an unfair advantage in the battle against Lucifer and his son, commonly known as the ‘Beast.’” Lucifer shuddered at the mention of the word. God, I saw, noticed this, and improvised, “or the anti-Christ.” Lucifer smiled and acknowledged God’s words with a friendly nod. God returned to his prepared speech.

“Seeing as Jesus already had a large fan base and would have had vastly more experience than Lucifer’s son, who I shall refer to now as the anti-Christ, I felt that by returning Jesus to Earth, it would have been a little unfair and not quite cricket.” There were murmurings around the table. It seemed the rest of the committee was not aware of God’s reasons for not returning Jesus to Earth. I was a little confused as to what “cricket” was. Later, Bob advised me it was a game that the English based on baseball though I wasn’t sure where he had gotten that fact.

“I know, I know,” said God, once more raising his hands. “I should have made my reasoning clearer at the time, but that was not the only reason I felt a new face was needed down on Earth.” God turned toward Jesus and looked at him with love and affection in his eyes. “Son, you had been through so much the first time. I didn’t want you to go through it again. It was tough on you, and I thought it would be even tougher this time around. Things changed down there, and you had already done so much for the cause; it hardly seemed right sending you back. I felt you deserved your rest and your retirement.” I looked across at Jesus, and I could see he was touched by what God had said.

“I know you were bitterly disappointed at the time, son, and rightly so,” he said directly to Jesus, “but I felt I was doing the right thing by not just you, but by everyone. I was killing two birds with one stone, and I was hopefully ensuring your retirement remained peaceful and uneventful. I was trying to make it a fair fight for the souls on Earth.”

Lucifer too was becoming emotional; he wiped a tear from his eye. I wondered if he had known that God had done the most honorable thing he could as to ensure that Lucifer’s son would not be too heavily outnumbered. There were more murmurings from the table, but I got the feeling they were murmurings of understanding. It also seemed that Jesus understood his Father’s reasoning, as his features softened and there was a new glow about him. He glanced at me and saw I watched him. He smiled gently at me and nodded. It seemed my brother had made peace with me. God continued to speak.

“However,” he announced, “after finally reading Revelation once it had hit the streets, so to speak, I realized it was not what I had intended for neither the earth nor mankind. So I took it upon myself to contact my old friend, Lucifer.” God indicated Lucifer, “I suggested that Revelation was more dramatic than it needed to be. I found all the violence and destruction rather too much. Lucifer agreed with me that the pain and suffering that would entail would be, above all things, a significant drain on both our resources. The destruction of the planet and the melting of eyes from sockets was really, well, unnecessary. The last thing I wanted was a barren wasteland to have to rebuild on. We, therefore, agreed upon a far more civilized way of settling the prophecy outlined in Revelation. In 1976, when we discussed this subject, a new craze was emerging on Earth: video games.” God looked around the table as if he were a professor passing on important and previously unheard of information to a class full of pupils.

“These things seemed liked an ideal way of settling differences. No one got hurt, and no damage was done to the environment or planet as a result. We agreed that this was an ideal way to execute the final conflict. It would take the form of a video game contest.” God paused and took a sip of water from the glass on the table in front of him.

“As it was written and prophesied, the Messiah, or Seth, as he is known, would prevail, the battle was meant to be a token gesture, as not to disappoint the ‘fans’ or the traditionalists down on Earth.” Lucifer nodded his agreement as if acknowledging he recalled the agreement and that what God said was indeed an accurate recollection of the facts.

“As I knew I had upset and disappointed Jesus, I gave him the important task of ensuring that the mother of my second child was a virgin and stayed a virgin until conception. Unfortunately, and again, I am as much to blame as anyone for this; it seems there is doubt about the parentage of the Christ. Seth over there,” God pointed to me. “There occurred, as you are all well aware, an unreported ‘Code Dave.’” God sighed slightly when he mentioned the dreaded ‘Code Dave.’ He flicked over the paper he was reading from and continued.

“Now, somewhere along the track, my old friend Lucifer and I lost sight of things on Earth for a while. I encouraged him to join me on a trip around the Universe to help me develop other planets for possible future projects. Well, as the committee well knows, this trip became longer than expected. We found a lovely little spot that we simply could not tear ourselves away from. Or should I say, I couldn’t tear myself away from. Lucifer, the old softy, kept on at me about our parenting responsibilities and how we should return to Earth. He badgered me every day; of course, rule number 123.3AV states that poor old Lucifer cannot be left to his own devices on Earth in my absence. Therefore, he had no choice but to stay with me. I suppose I could be described as being self-centered and self-absorbed with the whole traveling the Universe thing. I was having a great time, and being able to relax after thousands of years of creating made me complacent.” God once again raised his hands in his way of admitting responsibility. I looked around the table for any reaction to this admission of guilt, but it seemed his confession was enough to appease the committee, as there were no murmurings.

“I can understand your resentment toward me,” said God as he turned to face me. “I was indeed an absentee father; I should have been there for you and should have guided you, taught you, and helped you prepare for what I expected you to do.” God shifted his gaze to Bill.

“Also I apologize to you too, Bill.” Bill shifted uneasily in his chair. “It was my fault you father wasn’t around for you. You shouldn’t blame him one bit; I assure you he wanted nothing more than to be with you and watch you grow.” Bill nodded that he accepted God’s apology. God then turned to Lucifer.

“I also understand why my old sparring partner, Lucifer decided he would not adhere to the rules and the prophecy by attempting to win the final conflict and claiming, by default, the rights to the earth and all souls contained therein. Any loving father would have done the same, and I admit, I did feel uneasy about condemning the loser of the final conflict to the pit.” Lucifer looked a little sheepish, and I thought he might have been blushing. He raised his left hand as if admitting his underhandedness. God turned over another sheet of paper and again coughed to clear his throat.

“This brings us to today,” he looked around the table, “first of all, there is the immediate question of Seth’s paternity and whether I am his real father.” I shifted in my chair. “Well, unfortunately, we have no way of determining whether I am his real father or not.” This surprised me. I listened as God explained.

“Due to the fact I made man in my own image, any DNA test would match. My DNA matches everyone’s on Earth; it’s a flaw, but something we are working on for the future.” Unfortunately, it seemed I would never know for sure if my father was my Uncle Jacob or God. I hoped it was God. “I have come up with a proposal and solution to this whole business, which has been a cock up from the start.” I glanced at Bill, who glanced back at me. Was this a way out for us?