Chapter Eight - The Lord 'splains the Meaning of His Crucifiction, and Plays with Some Critters

I got up a later than I needed to today, 8:30 AM. I kept slapping the snooze alarm, a common problem for me. Already running late, I stopped at the Sunoco station for gas, and a pack of cigarettes. "Jesus," I thought to myself, "I want to quit these damn things.

Stepping out of the station, a voice said, "Just quit then." I nearly jumped out of my skin, but new it was He. I turned around and found a young girl, about twelve looking at me. She spoke again, but her voice was the voice I had come to know. "Let me ride with you this morning" he voice from the young girl said.

"No way Hey Zues! I am not picking up an underage girl at a gas station and taking her for a ride. You are going to have to change your appearance. Don't you read the paper?" I sayeth unto Him.

"Oh yeah, I got ya there Teddy-boy. I'll be right back." and the Lord walked back into the gas station. A short Hispanic man emerged, with a pack of American Spirit cigarettes and a 16oz can of Colt 45 Malt Liquor.

"Yeah...that's MUCH better." I shook my head and we got into my SUV.

"Alright, alright..." Jesus said as he buckled himself in, and morphed into the Western European look that I was used to.

"What is up, my weary friend?" I queried the King of Kings.

"I just thought I pop in and see how the fight for righteousness has been going." He said unto me.

"Slowly Lord, S-L-O-W-L-Y... People think I am a kook when I try to tell them what is going on, and why they should prepare."

"Oh, the common problem for prophets. I got that ALL THE TIME." Jesus shook his head. "Keep it up though. You never know who you might wake up. Look, 95% of the people WANT to live in whatever reality they have created. There is no point in trying to convince people who have already made up their minds. Believe me, I know. Just find the ones who suspect that there is something else going on."

"Hey, ummmm....Jesus. You just used the word "prophet." From what I have read that label usually ends badly."

"Oh yeah. That is like the "kick me" piece of paper bullies stuck on your back in grade school. For me, it was a tad worse than "kick me." The Lord chuckled sadly.

"That raises something I have wanted to ask you about, Jesus. Why did you have to die on the cross? What is the point of that? I never got the 'He died for your sins' thing."

"Pfft. Organized churches sure have muddled that part of the story, huh?" said HE.

"It is pretty simple really. In the older days, the redemption of sin required a blood sacrifice. It is a common thing in ancient religions." Jesus explained. "My death was supposed to be the last blood sacrifice for the redemption of sin."

"Wow. You had to spill you blood and die because of a "rule" on how to redeem sin? That seems pretty brutal and archaic. Why was a blood sacrifice necessary in the first place? It seems pretty stupid that blood would redeem sin."

"Well, those were the times, and that was the hand I was delt for that reality. I knew when I came here, how it was going to end. Not that I enjoyed it. It was, however how people thought back then. It was what it was. it is what it is." Jesus shook his head, and opened the Colt 45 Malt Liquor. He continued, "People are born with darkness and light inside of them. Many say, 'There is good in everyone.' Well, there is evil in everyone too. Somewhere along the way, people blended darkness with light and came up with the idea that more darkness was required to redeem darkness. Logic would dictate that the way to redeem one self’s darkness, would be to do things that were good, things of light. People. Ugh. Not really beings of logic, are they?"

"No Lord, they are anything but. At least that is in the past."

"There is no past." HE was getting annoyed with me, "What you fail to realize is that time as you experience it, is an illusion. The concept of now, then, and the future are just that, concepts created so people had the ability to experience a sequential life. Without it, people would go mad experiencing all of life at once. Even "at once" is wrong. It is impossible to explain it to anyone who hasn't been dead."

I scratched my head, then it hit me. "Whoa there big fella! If I understand what you are saying, then you are still, right now, nailed to a cross in The Place of The Skulls. Everything that ever happened is still happening, and everything that will happen has already happened! Do I have that correct?"

"Yep, you got it Tedushu. Crazy, huh?" The Lord blew a smoke ring, and it floated through my car. "It is kind of like this smoke ring. It is all connected, one big circle. Forever moving and changing."

"It is forever moving and changing, yet is all connected? Does that mean that it is possible to change the past?" My head hurt.

"Sure. It isn't so much changing the past, as it is taking a different path from the past to the future. Every decision ever made had numerous possibilities. You are in this universe, the particular path, based on your past decisions." The Lord was getting all Steven Hawkingish on me, but with better diction.

"So, then Lord, are you on good terms with your Dad? He being the one who sent you here, in that backward time. That would be a toughy to get past for holidays and such." I was puzzled how he dealt with it, forgetting for a moment who HE really was.

"Well Teddy, we all have family stuff to work through. Mine isn't much different!" Jesus laughed and lit another smoke.

"Hey Jesus, those things are bad for you. It says so right on the side." I cautioned THE LORD. Jesus looked at me with a "Ted, you must be shitting me," look on his face.

"Where to now?" I asked Jesus.

"Let's head on over to the animal shelter. I'd like to check in on some of the other beings that my dad created."

"Alrighty. You're the boss!" I laughed at my own humor.

"Don't you forget it Teddy!" The LORD slapped my leg.

As we pulled into the Animal Shelter parking lot, we heard the yipping of dogs. We got out of my truck, and started walking towards the door. "Hey Jesus, I know you have special privileges, but they don't let you smoke in there."

"Fascists! They'll be 'putting down' half the animals in here by week's end. I don't think a little cigarette smoke is going to make a difference." The LORD flicked his butt onto the gravel anyway.

As we open the door to the shelter and stepped in, all the animals got quiet, and laid down in their cages. I felt the stares of the shelter workers as we walked in.

"We're just here to visit," sayeth the Lord, as we walked through the shelter.

As we walked, the cages sprang open and the animals followed Jesus as he walked. I kept glancing over my shoulder as the animals followed us. It didn't take long for one of the women to follow us too. "Sir, sir....you can't do that."

"Do what?" I asked. "It seems to me you have some faulty cage locks here." as we continued walking. We got to the rear door of the shelter, Jesus gave the bar on the door a hard push, and soon we were outside, along with every animal from the shelter.

"Sir! Sir! Bring those animals back in here!" The animal shelter lady was not amused by this turn of events.

By now, the Lord was rolling on the grass, laughing and playing with the animals. I had never seen him so happy. "For once, my friend seems genuinely joyful." I thought to myself.

The shelter people had run back inside, threatening to call the police. Which I had no doubt they were now doing. I heard the wailing of police sirens getting louder. "Oh, no...." I muttered. "Hey Jesus! Maybe we should cut playtime short, and get the hell out of here." I was now officially freaking out.

"Ted. You worry too much," the Lord spoke in a calming voice.

I turned as I heard the crunching of tires on the gravel parking lot, and saw four police cars empty out, with the peace officers' guns being drawn. "Fuck" is all I could muster.

The Son of Man stooped playing, and stood up, holding one puppy in his arms. The other animals lied down, except for one large Doberman who was between Jesus and the cops, growling. "Peter, stay..." The Lord said to the Doberman.

"Peter?" I thought to myself. Peter backed up, and was standing at the right hand of the Lord.

"Oh, this is just great!" I said out loud, and the cops turned towards me. "Is that all you assholes have to do? Draw your weapons on a man playing with animals no one else wanted?!"

I heard HE say, "Ted, settle down..." just as I felt the barbs and jolt from a 30,000 volt taser.

"Ouch" I think I said, as I fell backward, unable to move.

I heard HE say, "Alright, that is enough of THAT!" the next sound was bodies hitting the ground.

I started to laugh, as the effects of the taser wore off, and I watched The Son of The Father, ascending up into the sky, with Peter at his right hand, and all the other animals from the shelter with him, knowing the police officers were having the same view.

"Thanks for the adventure Ted." the voice from the sky said.

I felt myself starting to cry. It was a good day.

copyright 2009 Ted Sky All rights reserved.

Chapter Seven - The First Time I Saw The Lord

Back in the mid 1990's, I had to visit a Ford Motor Company plant in Jaurez, Mexico. It was short trip, to investigate some problems with a product that was in charge of for the Allen-Bradley Company.

Coming back from the plant, the traffic crossing the USA/Mexico border was a crawl. It was very hot as well. Sweltering, would be the word. As we were slowly rolling, I noticed a woman and young girl, dressed in black clothing very ornately decorated with embroidery. I asked the man driving the car, who was also an employee of the company, and from Mexico, if the woman and child were dressed in traditional Mexican clothing. He said, "Oh no. Those are Indians. They live up in the mountains, but there is a drought, and they come down here to beg for money."

Upon hearing that, I reached for my wallet and started getting out of the car. I thought that twenty bucks to me, was nothing. Twenty bucks to them would mean food and water. The man driving the car I was in, started shouting at me to get back in, "GET BACK IN THE CAR!!" Startled, I got back in. He said, "If you give them money, they will never learn to take care of themselves!"

As the car, with me sitting stupidly in it, rolled through customs, I realized I had failed a big test. I let someone else tell me what was the right thing to do. I was ashamed of myself. I rarely think of biblical verses, but something Christ said popped into my head, "'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.....I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me."

I screwed up, big. What was $20 to me? Why would I let someone else tell me what was right and wrong? I have seen God a lot since them. Rarely it is when I see a thing of beauty. That's too easy, too obvious. It doesn't take a lot to see beauty in beauty. Can you see god in the homeless man you just passed on the street? Do you see God in the street walker, the crack whore? Do you see God in a death? What if everyone and everything else is God? What if everyone looking back at us, are looking at us through the eyes of God? What if, what if, what if?

Is it so far fetched? Do you really think Jesus would be on TV in a suit and tie, with perfect hair and teeth, stumping for cash? Or do you think he would be hiding were you would have to look to find him?

These are the questions I ask myself. Maybe you should ask yourself them too.

Copyright 2008 Ted Sky All rights reserved.

Chapter Six - The Lord Finally Spills The Beans On My Dream

I was sleeping, having one of my usual, unusual vivid dreams. In this dream I was driving a Jaquar XK8 Super. That’s a Jag XK8 L (long wheelbase) with a super charged 4.2 liter V8 in it. Since 2004, they have had an all aluminum body. This makes this a big, yet very nimble, very fast car. I have been trying to convince myself that it is a “sensible” car to buy. Four doors, bug trunk, about 27mpg on the highway. Yeah, this is practical….

I was coming out of a corner, and stomped the gas pedal and heard the roar of the engine, and whine of the supercharger kick in. The car made a “whomp” sound and I heard his voice. I looked to my right and HE said, “Ted. Wake up. It’s time to talk.”

I opened my eyes and squinted trough the light coming in from the hotel window. Where was I? Oh yeah, Evian, France. There HE was, sitting out on the balcony, at the small café table, looking out over Lake Geneva.

“Decide to spend some time in the South of France, Jesus?” I asked. Jesus turned and smiled. “This is the most beautiful place I have ever been to Lord. My complements to you or your dad.”

“Yes, Ted this is a beautiful place. I guess it helps explain why the French are so snobbish, huh?” Jesus then laughed outloud.

‘What’s up?” I asked. “You are not here to counsel me on my tirade with the English idiot last night?”
“No, he had it coming, but I am glad you didn’t cave his skull in. Killing people, even ones who you think ‘need killin,’ isn’t the path.” Said the Lord. “I am back to talk about your dream, and not whether or not you should by the Jaguar, or a Mini either. I let ‘free will’ ride on that one.”

“Great.” I was unenthusiastic about the conversation. I sat up in the bed.

“I will cut right too it. That’s the way you are going to die, Ted.” Sayeth the Lord.

“I kinda figured that, hoping against hope and all of that.”

I got out of the bed, put on the white terry cloth Evain Royal Hotel bathrobe, and joined Jesus out on the balcony.

Looking down at my bare feet, “Why?” I asked.

“Everybody has to die somehow, Ted. At least you won’t be rotting in your own feces in some government-run retirement farm. A fate that awaits most of your contemporaries.” Jesus explained.

“So this is like a mercy killing?! Because I am not too keen on being shot in the back of the head, Jesus.”

Jesus stared straight through me, and said, “You can’t change that part, Ted. The question is what are you going to be doing between NOW and then? What will your crime be to lead to that fate?”

“Unpaid parking tickets? They way the country is going, I could be labeled a terrorist for that. Then it is off to the military tribunal at Gitmo!”

‘That is exactly my point,” said He.

“Your point is I will be killed for minor traffic violations?” Thanks for waking me up to tell me that." I was getting pissed.

“Have some coffee and think again, smart ass.” The Lord was not laughing.

I rubbed my forehead, and pondered this puzzle, sipping my coffee. Then I realized that I didn’t have any coffee in my room last night. “Did you order room service?” I asked the Lord.

“Ha!" Jesus laughed and shook his head. “You’re funny, Ted. But you can be a little thick now and then. Maybe it's the jet lag. Don’t you remember my water into wine routine, McFly?" The Lord knocked on my forehead. "I made coffee this morning instead.”

“Not much of a trick there, Lord. You won’t be getting many converts with that one. Hey everyone, Jesus made coffee!” Now I was laughing, maybe too much.

“Ted…..” the Lord was cautioning me, and wanted me to get back on topic.

“Okay,” I said. “I die with a bullet to the back of my skull. What are my choices and when will it happen?”

“What do you think your choices are, Ted?” asked HE.

“Oh, come on Jesus. This is like psycho therapy for crying-in-the-sink! What are you going to ask me next? ‘If I was a tree, what kind of tree would I be, and would I have nuts?” I was not liking the “This Is The End of You Life” game show that we were playing.

I sat quietly. This was like therapy. The silence grew and grew. Jesus wasn’t going to say anything. So, I had to.

“The way I see it, there are a number of ways. 1) I could be the victim of a violent crime. That’s a little to simple, and I don’t think we would be sitting here chatting about it. 2) I could get a slug from flirting with some guy’s wife or girlfriend. I am charming as hell. So, that one is a strong possibility. 3) Family argument. My family, save my in laws, aren’t packing for the most part. That one is unlikely. 4) Political crimes. I am always shooting my mouth off about something. And they like the whole “execution style” way of killing off their enemies. That is second only to being “suicided. Did you read about the guy the found in river wrapped in duct taped, sliced up and killed? They called that one suicide! Hey, I guess they could suicide me that way too. ‘He shot himself in the back of the head.’ Man, that would be rich.”

“Ted, those are all possibilities; all equally valid. You left out hunting accident, and writing about our conversations, to name two more obvious ones. Your actions between now and then will determine it. You know what it should be, Ted”

I sighed. “Hey Jesus, before I forget. Can you do something about my Tinitus? You know, that constant ringing in the ears that I have had since December.

“Oh that? When that stops, you will know that I have sent the angel of death for you. Let’s say within eighteen to twenty-four hours.” Jesus winked at me. “It will be time to come home.” The Lord stood up and smoothed his robe.

“So, I have to wait until the last day of my life for this buzzing in my head to stop? Don’t I even get a snooze button? That really sucks, man.” I was even less happy.

“Hey, it’s something.” Then Jesus bent down, gave me a kiss on my forehead. “Be well, my friend.” The HE was gone.

I got up, showered, and got dressed. Then I headed out to try to find a copy of Ron Paul’s The Revolution. Maybe there was one somewhere in the village of Evain, France. Finding an English language book, at a bookstore in the South of France was going to be a miracle itself. An English version of that book would be like changing water into coffee, sans the beans. But, I had the feeling there was one waiting for me.

copyright 2008 Ted Sky All rights reserved.

Chapter Five - Having a Cone With Jesus

I was driving South on I-5, in the heart of Los Angeles, orange cones blocking two lanes on my right. I had Willie Nelson blasting on the stereo in my Kia piece-of-shita rental car.

The cars in front of me started to jerk to the left and right. Then there it was – a big black garbage bag, in front of my car. I gripped the wheel and hit it head on, dead center. A large “POP!” followed by some grumbling under the car and a fireworks display of trash being strewn all over the highway in my rear view mirror. “Holy Shit!” (I’m pretty sure I said that out loud.) I looked up at the review mirror again and started to laugh. Trash everywhere, all over the highway. Crazy. It actually looked beautiful, in a way.

I pulled the car over at the next exit sign, shooting through the cones and coming to a stop at the place that is not the exit, but not the highway; that little triangle of gravel and lost auto parts. Checking all my mirrors and scanning the outside for the criminals reported to be everywhere in LA, I got out check the car for, well, whatever you check a car for after hitting a full bag of trash at seventy miles an hour.

Peering underneath the car, I saw there was a plastic bag stuck to the catalytic converter.

“Whad Up?!” I whacked my head on the bumper. There was Jesus, wearing an Oakland Raiders baseball hat, turned sideways, brim flat, with the size sticker still on it. (The Lord wears a size 7 & 3/8, in case you were wondering, or want to buy a gift.) I was rubbing my head as Jesus laughed. “Oh man, Ted. You should have seen your face!”
“Well, Jesus, what did you expect? I probably crapped my pants too!” I was angry.

“Lighten up, my brother!” exclaimed the Lord. “And turn around.” He spun me and check the back of my pants. “You’re good. No poop.”

“We best be getting back in your car Ted. This may be the City of Angels, but I don’t think they work nights anymore.”

“Good call Jesus.” We got back in the Kia.

“Let’s get back on the road, and we can talk while you drive.” commanded HE.

The traffic was zooming by at seventy MPH+, and compacted into only three lanes. I was revving the engine. “Tell me when to punch it, Jesus.”

“No.”

“Not yet.”

“No…..”

“Hang on…”

“PUNCH IT THEODORE!”

I stabbed my foot on the accelerator. The Kia’s tires squealed, the car swerved, and jumped into the lane.

“WHACK!”

“Ha! You took out a cone Ted!” and the Lord laughed like a mad man.

I was too busy trying to get the Kia up to traffic speed before I got me and Jesus killed. Well, me anyway. The Kia’s engine was roaring and so was Jesus. I don’t know which I found more annoying.

When the Kia made it to sixty five miles and hour, I finally relaxed. I looked at the king of kings, and he said, “Life is one hell of a ride, huh Ted?”

“Yeah, but I could do without the stray bags of garbage.” I replied.

“Ted, Ted, Ted, when will you learn that it the bags of garbage are what life is made of?”

“Well, Jesus, maybe tonight would be good. We have some miles ahead of us. Enlighten me.”

“There was a man from Samaria, let’s make that Samaria Louis. He was a hoarder, a collector of things. This drove his family crazy. Every few years, they would get the old man out of the house, and clean it. Tossing out dumpsters of trash. Worthless junk, Newspapers. Magazines. Stuff he bought on the home shopping channel. Plastic bread bags. Shoes. Stray socks. Old TV’s and lawn mowers he got at garage sales, and thousands of lottery tickets. Oh, he also had lots of cats. So, they house smelled real good too."

This went on for years. The old man collected, and the family would throw it away. One day, when the family came by to get the old man out of the house for his ninety-third birthday party, they found him dead under a pile of toppled, pet-urine soaked newspapers. His ears were chewed off by his hungry cats. The family had the house emptied one more time. Then had it condemned and burned it to the ground.”

“That’s it?” I asked the Lord. “Was that some kind of goofy parable?

“Goofy? I think it was pretty good, given the limited intelligence of my audience.”

“Ouch. Now that was uncalled for, there Joshua.” My ego was a little bruised, but I deserved it. I don’t remember too many people telling the Lord his parables were goofy. Or none lived to tell the tale.

“Don’t you get it, Mensa man?” prodded the King of Kings.

“Yeah, don’t fill your house up with shit.” sayith I.

“Yep, that’s it! You got it man.” sayith HE.

“I did? I was sort of joking there…”

“What do you mean? That’s the lesson! as Chuck Palahniuk wrote, ‘Everything you love will eventually be thrown away.’ or something like that. So, you should throw it away yourself. Throw it away today, now, while you still have the time.”

“So, what you are saying is that we are too materialistic, Lord?” I asked.

“Well, everyone IS too materialistic, but it is more than that. Throw away your old ideas, hates, hurts, and even loves. ‘Let the dead bury the dead’ as someone once said. Having a house or life filled with trash from the past doesn’t serve you. It traps you and will eventually bury you.”

“Hey Jesus, that’s pretty deep.”

“What do you expect, Teddy boy? I am who I am.” HE stated.

“Isn’t this where you disappear on me?” I queried the Lord.

“Nope. There’s more.”

“Humph, really?” I mumbled.

“Do you know the saying, ‘If you want to hear God laugh, tell him your plans?”

“Yeah, I have heard that one – always liked it, because it rings true.”

“Then think of your life as a journey down I-5. How you can be cruising along, listening to Willie, and then there is the big bag of garbage out of nowhere you have to deal with.”

“And sometimes you can swerve and miss it, and other times you have to just hit it, plow through and deal with the consequences.” I added.

“Yeah, pretty much, Ted. Pretty much……” Jesus stared out the window.

“Kind of like being a simple man, and then one day people calling you the Son Of Man?” I added.

“And everything that means…” HIS voice trailed…. “Shit.”

“You know, Ted. Everyone has to die. It sucks, but that’s the way it works. Some are tortured and die. I wasn’t special. If I was alive right now, I wouldn’t be. I’d be dead in cell in Guantanamo Bay.”
I felt HIS stare, and I looked over and his eyes were burning into me. “If the people in your country keep this up, cheering over the death of innocents, looking the other way, pretending that somehow your leaders are exempt from being evil because they are ‘Americans’, you will get the government you deserve. You are well on your way.”

I heard a loud ka-twack, and a bump. I looked in my review mirror, and saw a road cone spinning in the center of the highway.

“Ha! Can you believe that Jesus? It must have been stuck in the wheel well, or some…..” as turned and he wasn’t there.

“Damn!” I said out loud. “I wasn’t done talking.”

I turned the music back up, and HIS voice broke in. “Sorry for the abrupt exit, Ted. I’ll be back soon, we still have to finish discussing your dream. Oh, and tell Rebecckkah to watch those MySpace comments. I was human once, I do have feelings. And my mom!”
“I’ll pass the word along, my friend.” I replied to the Kia’s car stereo.

Then Willie Nelson began singing, “On The Road Again.” I looked out at the winding highway, searching the night for stray bags of trash.

copyright 2008 Ted Sky All rights reserved.