Unbeknownst to he, Jesus was up in heaven`s garage. It was
extremely nice. The cloud cars hovered in place at the edge of the vast cavern.
It was incredibly huge, matching in size the metropolis of New York. That is
the size of heaven`s garage!
Jesus, now long dead even after His brief, though exhilarating,
resurrection, was just chillin` in heaven. There He was allowed to negotiate all
of the powers of His immortal father, but He was very minute in His displays of
superiority. That is, Jesus only dealt with one person at a time. He took His
time, in life, and in death. He was compassionate. He suffered. He thought it
no crime nor sin to prank living humans for eternity.
Today, on this specific day, He was taking a specific turn
at 11:14pm or so, Ontario time, just to mess with Tristan. How the Emanuelle guffawed
when His mortal pal jumped two feet in the air and even exclaimed the Saviour`s
name in vein to boot!
His pals laughed with Him up in heaven`s garage.
Matthew was there, eyes always on the global economy, always
wondering why the world seemed to linger on the brink of depression whenever he
thought it prudent to meddle with the affairs of humans. The once prominent tax
collector had for instance attempted to induce a world-wide system of borrowing
and debt over time, even though most associates of heaven are not allowed to
contact Earth, only view it.
Paul would just sit there writing, just wondering what the
Corinthians would say if they knew about what went on in heaven`s garage.
Sure, Matthew may have been the worst, but Jesus`s pranks
were just irrelevant most of the time, especially for a resurectee of such high
regard. Lazarus in heaven, for instance, had made a name early for himself
following his post-resurrection death; he was the one who chopped wood for the
folks of heaven, so that the flames of eternity were constantly aglow. But a
spilt glass of milk, a surprise step in manure, an unexpected ding from
expanding air within a sealed container... Jesus lived his life to create moments of humourous shock,
jolting His mortal flock and simply revelling in the results: He thought them
hilarious. Meanwhile, Peter would just sit around and eat nachos.
Ding! Jesus laughed again as Tristan moved uncomfortably in
his chair. Tristan telepathically pictured the scene from his own place in
Stouffville. He smiled.
God had long ago relegated Christ to the garage of heaven,
for He had seen what Jesus was doing to the people of Earth.
`Like an irrelevant Candid Camera,` He once chuckled before
eventually snarling at His son: `GET OUT OF MY HOUSE JESUS CHRIST! My refuge
cannot be yours. Chill out in the garage for eternity. Eat whatever you want.
There`s a futon out there, undeniably preferable to a cross.`
Jesus looked indignantly at His dad. His sort of mortal life
had been an iridescent speck upon the plain of Jerusalem. His tortures had been
despicable; He wondered often Himself why the tortures had lasted so long. Why
had He not died earlier, before the cross for instance? It was all bad, but
Jesus had admitted to Himself immediately that the cross was the worst.
He didn`t think it problematic to ignore the actual issues
of the now gigantically populous planet upon which He had once existed, now transparent
and ethereal, observing His various followers and descendants with amusement and vague concern.
God had long ago retired to heaven`s Living Room, Him alone
in a room twice the size of the existent universe.
The other hundreds that lived in heaven lived elsewhere on
the estate. Christ and the Apostles usually chilled in the garage unless Peter
shambled into the kitchen for more nachos. Once or twice, Doubting Thomas had slunk
into the spacious Living Room just to see it for himself. The Old Fellow, not unaccustomed to violence, had
immediately backhand slapped the intoxicated skeptic and said, `For Christ`s
sake get out of My Living Room!` Thomas would always stunned-ly remove himself,
shying away in a frenzy of disgrace and reserve.
***
The can dinged again and Christ this time sneered, though
Tristan had already written all of this down.
He was thankful that it had happened and considered himself
a good fellow.
No comments:
Post a Comment