chapter 16

"One true God."

That was enough to send Jesus into a rage. But he was sitting at a table with his parents and Sarah was sitting on his lap and I was sitting across from him.

"Mother. There is no one true anything. True is related to context of perspective, perception and most of all, blind ignorance. Moses was, if he ever really was, a true lyer. And like all other dictators, he liked to believe he was God. And because he was smart enough to know he was mortal, he sold the belief that only he could interpret the voice of god. Which was the rumbling of thunder in the clouds. He kept a fire of animal parts and fat burning all day and night and made a religion out of sheep herder rules. Being Jewish is taking pride in ignorance, genocide and blind obedience to hate laws of inbred war lords. And I will not teach such nonsense to my children."

"But they will not get a place in heaven."

"They have a place in heaven."

"Mary Helene, do you believe what he says."

"I believe Jesus is the father of gods. And an angel with a host of angels who love him and share his ideas and hopes. And he is a wonderful father and a divine lover."

The children pulled us out of our dead end debate and Mary and Joseph were happy to have them around and managed not to make long prayer before eating.

My parents were less receptive. If Jesus insisted on keeping the company of anyone he pleased, he was not welcome in a respectable Jewish house.

If Moses, Ab, Isaac and Jacob, all true biological bastards. Children of raped women. If they said they were the chosen race, who was the king of the Jews to say he wasn't king of the Jews.

It was all really quite funny. Or it could be if people would stop believing what they were told to believe and open their eyes and see what is, open their ears and hear what is being said.

Fighting the war against ignorance with words.

Almost everything was impossible. Even the inevitable.

"Jesus save me."

A little woman, a young woman, with sexual appeal flowing from her like light from the sun. She was with her mother and her grandmother and her father.

Jesus fumbled with some dry fruit and hissed to warn the little woman that the salvation she wanted would be there when she left the protection of her family and came to him.

When the young women saw me, they almost always went away.

chapter 17

Jesus didn't like to talk about it, but the time was getting ever closer to the time when he would have to hang on a cross. Not talking about it didn't make the inevitability go away. I didn't like it and Jesus was afraid to talk to me about it.

"I know all your thoughts, Jesus."

"I know you do, Helene."

"Let's take Liz and Fau and the children and go away and forget who we are for a while. Let them miss you for a while. Let me have your attention."

Jesus didn't argue. He put his trust in other people every chance he had.

So with three women and seven children, Jesus returned to Ethiopia to touch the old magic of the children of the mountains. Instead of saving people from their artificial sins, he allowed the people and the land to save him and load him once again with the magic he would need to draw on when he stood before his kingdom of fools and let them nail him to a cross.

Jesus and I left the rest of our party in the village that had adopted us and went to Addis Ababa with a goat herder and his goats.

It was in many ways a city like any other city. In many ways it felt like we were on top of the world and could look out to see thousands of years of our ancestors struggling and playing, fighting and loving.

The children touched us. They wanted to touch the not black people who came to visit with no swords, walking with a native goat herder.

It had been a long journey and it was so very much still the beginning. I watched and listened to the men talk with Jesus into the night.

Mostly I listened to the sounds but not the words. And I wondered how long, how many generations, we had been talking into the night and how many more generations were ahead of us.

And how long would it take before we understood war and plunder for gold and silver and religion to steal life and make death cult.

If giving up was a choice, it would be easier. But our children were waiting at the lake in the village. And Jerusalem wanted a bastard king to nail to a cross for the crime of bringing heaven down to earth for every creature to embrace.

chapter 18

None of the three women, Liz, Fau or your narrator had their menstrual period on the long trip back to the coast and the forever journey north on the red sea.

It felt like eternity and only a few moments since we had been in Jerusalem.

The priests and lawyers were a little surprised to see Jesus back in the synagogue. He was on fire and challenged every law and custom. They were being played at there own game. They were forced to plot the roman protected protagonist Jewish king's public execution.

"Kill another prophet. You lieing, gold loving, snakes of hell. I will scream bloody blasphemy at your death cult until you snakes of hell have been written into history."

I dressed as a man and went into the synagogue to take Jesus out of his den of torture. So he could have his last supper before incarceration.

His think team where making preparations with Pilot's soldiers while Jesus had an evening meal with his disciples. The women fed the children and made last preparations for the main event.

Lazarath and uncle Joseph where making final preparations for the tomb of Jesus. I had been assured by Borus and Fau many times that Jesus would not die on the cross. But it must look like he was dead when they took him down. And a tomb was part of the show.

There was nothing more to do than play it out how it had been written. Written in the holy scriptures of lies and our theater of antideathcult.

Joanna stayed with Liz and me. Mary, my mother-in-law and her mother Mary stayed with us. And on the morning of his sentencing we went and stood among the crowd that cheered with the snakes of hell in their chanting to crucify the man who had given all of his soul to them.

And I cryed. I cryed for the thousands of years of submission to the men's club of hate for life and love of war and gold. I cryed for all the blood spilt from the wars that kept us groveling in fear.

And I cryed for the children who would be taught the lies that priests and lawyers would wrapped around the Jesus who loved me and our children.


mary helene chapters 19