Reluctance of a Messiah to Make His Comeback
Those Books Not Taken Seriously
In a very distant past there probably were a few real, flesh and bone messiahs - but this story is not about any of those. What's left of them are merely some clumsily told stories, and they must have been told clumsily - according to the state of the world - since hardly anybody is taking them seriously.
Then, some time during all those past eons, according to history, there must have been some real love-and-wisdom worlds - but this story is not about any of those either. History must have been retold clumsily as well, because no one seems to have learned anything from it, so it keeps repeating itself.
A Strange, Self-Sabotaging Breed
Well, as you can tell this far, this is going to be a story about a fictional messiah and a fictional world. Since fictional means "not real", why not tell about how unreal is this world of ours. Let's start from the top by saying how the air we breathe is not real, but a toxic mix of gasses; and climate that used to be real, now is all messed up.
The next essential substance for sustaining life - drinking water is a toxic cocktail mixed by mad scientists of corporate world, so we have to purify it first before drinking, but then we add to it chemicals that screw up our brains.
Our soil is drained of minerals, so we have to "enrich" our foods. And even our daily bread is not made of real wheat but a genetically engineered impostor causing all kinds of health problems. Meat is filled with pesticides, hormones, and antibiotics, fish with mercury, fruits are sprinkled with toxic fluids, and we are eating plastic foods from boxes.
Not satisfied with any of the above in our self-sabotaging passion - we have Big Pharma killing us with chemicals, our leaders are lying to us, our romantic music turned into screaming with notes, and universities are teaching from a paradigm that has been long overdue for replacement with something that benefits the mankind.
Those real personal contacts and conversations have turned into texting, and the story never ends of our artificial, plastic, phony, and messed up world with not much left of that pristine form that those peoples of the distant past enjoyed in their love-and-wisdom realities.
So We Fancy to Be Likable
I know, this gloomy and pessimistic inventory of our reality could not cheer anybody up, and I wouldn't even go there, while being a hard-core optimist, but that's what the fictional messiah of my story chooses to look at in his assessment of possible reasons for his return.
While all those could look like quite legitimate reasons for his reluctance, they are not all that he has in mind. Namely, sorry to say it, but he also doesn't like us. Now, don't anybody feel bad about it, because we don't like ourselves either, so it's O.K. If we did at all, we certainly wouldn't sabotage our happiness and health as we do, personally and globally.
Indeed, it takes an enemy, not a friend to treat ourselves and each other with so much disrespect and a lack of compassion, love, tolerance, whatever else is in the recipe in those Good Books never followed.
But hey, wait, these are not my words but his, my fictional messiah; and I am beginning to believe that you feel lucky it's only a fictional one. Imagine if one of those real ones paid us a one day visit before he would run for his life wherever he came from.
After a quick assessment of what we call the "human condition", he would probably tell us to stop praying to them and stop celebrating their names. They would hit us with some numbers - like a few billion people pretending to follow their Book of Unconditional Love, and another few billion equally pretending to follow their own - plus some of those that are standing on the sides and pretending they like what those billions are doing to this world.
Lucky Us, It's All Fictional
Yes, trust me, you are better off by being told all this by a fictional messiah. You may even imagine that, while being fictional he "doesn't really mean any of that", and maybe he is just looking at us with compassion and with a shrug says: "Forgive them, oh Father, because they don't know what they are doing".
Lucky us that the date of the Big Judgement keeps being postponed for some reason. Who knows why, the Big Boss is allegedly working in mysterious ways. Possibly he is still looking for a right bunch of decent folks to summon for his jury.
After a few false alarms, the mass of those heavy sinners started secretly giggling at those alarmists who obviously misread the Good Book. When asked about it, my fictional messiah had some interesting things to say.
Heaven and Hell Coexisting
According to him, we are already experiencing all heaven and hell there is. Apparently, no such a thing like an inferno to barbeque our sinful asses after the game is over; and as for heaven, well, it's around us just like hell is, and it's our choice in which of these two realities we want our souls to reside.
Furthermore, he says that we are so duped by our beliefs, as we obviously need someone with a halo around their head to tell us how divine and beautiful beings we are - so until we get that assurance we act like a bunch of pathetic village idiots, pissed off at ourselves and everyone else.
When I try to get his point, I think I see what he means - from ever and ever there have been those who are cooking their unsure asses in their own oil, and those who chose to be unforgivably happy. My fictional messiah actually confirmed my take of his message, after I asked him what kind of sermon he would give to the world if he was a real messiah.
Puzzle in a Sermon
After scratching behind ear, looking up for a moment, and pausing for few additional moments - like messiahs probably do before they have something of importance to disclose - his solemn and ghostly voice said:
"All right, but you know by now how all dudes of my trade use metaphors, and it will be up to you to decipher it properly.
There was this preacher who was reluctant to do his sermons. Some say he was plain lazy, others think that he was very wise. So, anyway, on the first Sunday of his service he is scanning over those heads of the sheep - you know, in our messiah's lingo he is a shepherd, and his congregation are the sheep.
Then he asks: "Do you know what I am going to talk about?" - The chorus of sheep said: "No, father, we don't". - With a displeased face the preacher said: "You must be some stupid bunch if you don't know why you came here" - and he left.
The following Sunday the same question comes up, and this time, the sheep not wanting to insult their shepherd smartly say: "Yes, father, we know". - upon which the preacher said: "Good, so you won't need me to say any of it" - and of course, he left again.
At the third time, with the same question being asked, now confused but smartened up sheep answer: "Well, some of us know, and some of us don't". - The preacher said: "Good, so let those who know tell those who don't." - and he left again. And that's all."
Anyone to Join Me?
I was just about to open my mouth to ask: "Could you be more specific about the moral of this story?", but then I bit my lip instead, suspecting what his answer would be: "Good, so find someone who can tell you". But, he must have read the question on my face because he disappeared, just like the preacher in his story.
The last I caught of him was that mysterious smirk. Then it suddenly dawned on me, he didn't mean that I should ask, but tell those who might want to know "why messiahs are not returning".
So hey, anyone out there, is anybody interested? Listen up. It's because there is enough of us who know, and if those others don't want to ask - let them keep frying their ignorant asses in their home-made, self-made and cheap hells.
Allegedly, we can all be happy and smart and we don't need a messiah, we need to smarten up on our own. And just like that preacher did, messiah would anyway leave us upon realizing that we "know", and he would also leave us if we didn't, for our reluctance to use our own heads.
So, is there anybody to join me, as I am loving all stupidity, all contamination, all lies and pretenses and the rest of our "human condition"? For, it is not that we are to become happy because we entered a heaven, but the other way around - we are supposed to be happy in order to create our heavens.
Man, some fictional messiahs are just as good as the real ones. All we have to do is treat them as we would treat a real one - pretend they exist and believe what they might say.