Sunday, September 05, 2004


Jesus Comes to Greet the LXX, Part III

I don’t know what else to say about the whole Messiah thing, so we sit there in silence for a few moments, still sort of shaking our heads and smiling at ourselves. Then I say: “So tell me, Jesus, this God-in-III-persons thing ...”

“Yeah?” Jesus says.

“The Holy Ghost said it was some sort of emanation deal. Like the Logos emanating out of Sophia.”

“Well,” Jesus says sort of dubiously, “I don’t know about that. I’m supposably the Logos, but last I heard I was going to emanate out of a Jewish virgin, not some Greek lady named Sophia.”

My eyebrows go up. “You mean to tell me,” I say, “you’re going to emanate out of a virgin?”

“Yeah,” he says. “That’s what Dad keeps saying.”

“How does that work, exactly?”

“Uh, what?”

“Being emanated out of a virgin.”

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

“Well,” I say, “how’s that different from being born of one?”

“It’s not,” he says.

“I’m not following,” I say.

“Dad sticks me inside of her belly, there,” he says. “And I get bigger and bigger. And when I’m big enough, pow. I emanate right on out of there.”

“So when you say you’re fixing to emanate out of a virgin, you really do mean born, huh?”

“That’s right,” he says.

“I see,” I say. “So I’m guessing you don’t have a real clear idea on how you get into her belly, or the road you’re going to travel coming out.”

“Not exactly,” he admits cheerfully. “Dad sort of explained it. But I think he left a lot out. Said I’d understand when I’m older.”

“I guess it’s just one of those mysteries, huh?” I say. “How she gets pregnant and stays a virgin.”

“Right,” he says. “I’m leaving all that to Dad.”

“I guess to God all things are possible, huh?”

“That’s what he tells me.”

“If you’re God and you want to get a girl pregnant and have her still be a virgin, I guess you just fucking do it, huh?”

“I guess so!” Jesus chuckles. There’s something about this guy. He has that uncanny ability to make you feel, regardless of your race, or class, or age, or gender, or whatever, like you’re at a Rotary Club luncheon.

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