This Thing of Ours

Jesus. Now, he and I have never met. A priest I once knew tried to introduce us, but the sacristy broom closet seemed a little small for three of us to fit, so I declined the invitation. He invited me a couple other times to meet "the bishop" and to "shake hands with Peter," none of which made much sense to me, but eventually my voice changed and he seemed to lose interest. I assume he just got really busy when they transfered him to his new job as the boys' wrestling coach at St. John Chrysostum Junior High School.

Getting back to Jesus, he's a guy I think I mostly understand. Infinite compassion, give away your possessions, no rich people in heaven, a voice for the least fortunate... he's kind of like Gandhi without the awkwardness of being weird and foreign and Hindu... as far as I know. Man, that would be a kicker to find out Jesus was Hindu. The tragic irony would be that he'd be reincarnated as something awesome, but that nobody would take seriously politically like a butterfly or a Mormon. Such is the lot of men of peace; they only get one shot to change the world. Then they die and the merchandising begins. The message of social justice tends to get lost when the building it's preached in is branded like Best Buy and has an attached food court. Love your neighbor, obey your parents, don't kill people and--hey, smoothies!

But we all know Jesus wasn't Hindu. Jesus was American. And more specifically, Italian-American. Which is why he runs his operation like an old school Mustache Pete caporegime who sends out his underbosses to run the rackets and squeeze the locals for protection money. Somebody's light in giving to the building fund and next thing you know, a monsignor accidentally drops a brick through the Window into Men's Souls. It's unfortunate, but there are ways to avoid unfortunate mishaps, which have a tendency to occur over and over again.

But it's not all extortion and earning. He knows how to spread money around at holiday time to assure communal good will. That's when he sends out the smiley-face PR guys like Santa and the Easter Bunny to insist on a little good fucking cheer, or else. You don't wanna say "Merry Christmas"? I got some Baptists who are very eager to meet you.

The problem is, you get these pushers out on the street and next thing you know, they become the whole face of your organization. Like just this last weekend. How much of that was about The Man and how much was about some hyperglycemic lagomorph in a pastel bowtie?

Jesus, I think, is losing his edge, but what can he do? He's got to kick it up the ladder to his dad, the capo di tutti capo just like everybody else does. And the bunny earns. So the bunny plays. But I have to think, it's only a matter of time before the rabbit starts getting ideas about maybe moving up. Granted, it's a little hard to whack the Son of God (the Sanhedrin still haven't lived it down from the first time they tried that shit), but they used to say the same thing about Mithra, Sol Invictus, Amon Ra, Zeus... you get the idea.

But Jesus, I think, is ready. That's why He's got Peter on the gate. He knows Peter and his boys are capable of anything when properly motivated.