[thoughts of    ~a burning woman~    a short story by Sha'Tara]

My wanderings take me to the hunting lodge of a local entrepreneur and millionaire, high on the Republican side of things.  Spiritually and mentally not a healthy place but beggars aren’t choosers and I have to eat, and feed my child.  I thought I knew what to expect when I got there but I had an awakening, that’s for sure.

“Hello Mary!  What are you doing here?”

That voice!  “Jesus!”  That’s about all I can say.  There he is, as handsome as ever, looking dapper in his military fatigues, a semi-automatic casually held in the crook of his left arm – and how well I remember the feeling of being in that place! – surrounded by very important men and off to the side, hardly unobtrusive, a TV production van, equipment and necessary staff.  The sun is shining in my eyes so I move closer and turn under the shade of an overhanging roof.

“So, what do you think, Mary?  Is this me or what?”

“You?  You…”  I blurt out.  “I don’t get this.  It’s a  nightmare, right?  You’re an actor… and don’t call me Mary.  I’m Tara.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint you babe, but no, I’m not an actor.  This is me.  I’m Jesus.  Aren’t you glad to see me after all this time?  You’re a sight, girl.  I’d almost forgotten how seductive you look.  I’m glad I made you immortal.  Excuse me, I have to pose for the cameras.  I’m doing a commercial with Lester McIntyre here.  He’s donating five mils for that new super church in Washington.  It’s the least I can do… excuse me.”

I watch as they apply some makeup, take readings, laugh at some obscure joke, take their footage and wait for him to return to me.  I’m in shock and shaking my head trying to clear whatever cobwebs are clogging my reasoning powers.  But there he is, coming back to talk to me.  I shake his sleeve, angry at being made a fool of.

“What happened, Jesus?  Don’t you remember your teachings?  About Money being the enemy of God and how the rich were all going to hell?”

“Tara, look around.  Money is God, can’t you see?  The rich don’t go to hell, they built heaven!  And remember this, my people, my followers, they’ve made me God now.  So I can change the rules if I want to.”

“Well, what about that temptation with Satan when he offered you the world and you said no?”

“Those were the old beliefs, the old ways, Mary – sorry, Tara.  Times change, so do values.  Satan was ahead of his time.  I waited until I could own the world without owing it to him, you see?  I control resources, I’m God.  So I control whatever means men use to extract, process and move those resources… by default.  Who believes in Satan these days, huh?  Do you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Look at you.  You’re still the same old girl you were in Palestine.  Still a prostitute.  Still wandering, lost, trying to survive, bearing children, changing your name with the seasons so people won’t recognize you.  But I do.  And you know me.  You know you owe me for saving your life that time, don’t you.”

“I’ve wondered about that.  I remember the passionate times we shared afterwards as I hung around you, grateful and feeling safe.  I don’t think you saved my life for my sake.  I think that was just another ‘photo op’ and you used my helplessness to make yourself look good and create a scene that would make some history books.  And afterwards, you used me, just like so many other men did.  When you went into your crusade to make yourself the Son of God, did you care that I was pregnant?  What did you do for us?”

“You have a saying on this planet, ‘To make an omelet you have to break some eggs.’  Keep in mind I made you immortal.  So your child died (and incidentally went to heaven a rich kid, another one of my Nephilims).  Sure you finally got caught and were apparently killed as a prostitute, but after what I taught you, you deserved it, don’t you think?  You didn’t change.  No one did.  Nothing did.  But today there is change happening and it’s real.  You thought I forgot my promise to return, didn’t you?

“After I left on that ship, and you all watched me rise up in the sky, I did some thinking.  I hired that Paul of Tarsus to re-write the ‘Word’ so it could be easily used to undergird an institution.  Thanks to the pagans and Jews my people were given a name: Christians.  Then came Christianity.  Then came real estate and power.  Rome beckoned.  Sure, it was in trouble, but new institutions grow from troublesome times.  I was with Constantine at Milvian Bridge.  It was I who showed him how a sword and a cross can be easily interchanged.  Both draw blood; both kill.  Both lead to power.”

“Hah, power.  I know about power.  You made me immortal and I should be thankful but I’m not.  Women like me suffer under male domination, under the power of male gods, under the tyranny of male systems.  Even when we believe in you, we are oppressed.  We are denied power to make life-honoring rules.  And I know why.  If we ruled things would change drastically.  You, my friend, would no longer be God.  You’d be just another of our deities perhaps, a lesser one.  You wouldn’t be posing on a cross or riding a white horse covered in blood and brandishing a sword.  There would be no standing armies in our world and our priority would be to ensure our children are fed, clothed, housed and safe.  We would see to it that they are loved as they should be.  We wouldn’t need money in our world, Jesus.  We would share the earth’s resources and whatever labor was necessary to process those resources according to individual need, not greed.  What in hell happened to you – you make me so angry all of a sudden when all these long years all I did was believe in you and love you for the way you were, the things you taught us.”

“I had an awakening, Tara.  I came back as promised, only the world wasn’t ready for the really big show – I’m saving that – and I saw what my people had done with what I’d given them.  Billions of followers now, not just a few hundreds.  Many of them the richest men on the planet.  Amazing cathedrals and churches all over the world.  A whole world of art that arose just around my name.  Entire Christian nations conquering pagan worlds and converting them to my religion.  Armies, political power, my name an object of fear and terror to all who refused to believe in me.  It may have been a tough act to be nailed to a cross and pretend to die but it paid for itself billions of times over! 

“Look at it my way: I reasoned that so many successful people could not be so wrong.  I had to decide: either to publicly denounce this wonderful religion that was taking over the world, or join with it.  It was obvious.  If I denounced it, I’d be accused of ‘demon possession’ again.  I’d have to start at the bottom again, and where would that go? 

So I took my place at the head of this Christian Church and accepted all aspects of it as long as it bowed to me and I was its only Lord.  Don’t you see the wisdom of that?  I gave these followers what they needed most: their Lord’s approval.  Granted only the few immortals like us know who I really am, but does it matter?  Once I have control of a world-wide Media network I’ll do that public return stunt.  There’ll be great wars because there will be those who still refuse to acknowledge me as the only Lord of Earth.  I’ll even do the four horses thing and the angels, why not?  Marvelous drama.

“Look, I’m a bit short on time here.  I have a dedication to do in Washington and a helicopter is picking me up and taking me back in about fifteen minutes.  I can get you a pass to ride back with me.  We’re building a whole new hotel complex right next to our church and the staffing isn’t completed.  Come with me and I’ll see to it that you get a great job with great pay and full benefits.  Your kid will be able to attend the finest schools and who knows, maybe become President some day.  Maybe that’s the day I’ll pick to make my appearance.  What you didn’t get in Palestine I could give you in Washington.  How would you like to be concierge of the glitziest hotel in the country?”

I can see the fire in his eyes, some fired by his success, and some by the old lust for my body.  I can’t say the temptation isn’t there, powerful and demanding.  I say to myself, ‘You crazy woman, you’re stupid to even hesitate.  Look at your situation.  Anything is better than this.’  But I also remember what we had built our relationship upon those frightening, exciting, vulnerable times two millennia ago.  What we had we called love, and not just love between a man and a woman, but love that took in the whole gamut of creation.  Love of, and for, God.  I remember what we suffered for the truth. 

I realize I can’t go with him.  This is the end of the romance for me.  I’m a woman in a man’s world ruled by a dominant male God who understands power but not life.  Perhaps I’ll continue to ply my questionable trade to the ends of time but I’ll not be another rich and sad slave in some power-mad Lord's harem, giving him bastard children he calls “Nephilims.”  Why not come right out and call them what they are: monsters.

“Goodbye Jesus.  Maybe some day I’ll be the one who will save your life my friend.”

I watch the helicopter leave then I fix my face.  I have to work.