(@Eczuleger), author of Immortal L.A.: out now in paperback!
Jesus woke up on the morning of his 30th birthday and he was depressed. He stared at the ceiling of his mud hut. He began mentally listing his shortcomings. He was unemployed. He was single. He was 30. 30 years old. The big 30. The time in which he could be adulated for being young and successful had passed. Now the best that he could hope for was old and not an embarrassment.
He thought of his ancestors. A long line of giant slaying kings, famous wise men and prolific lovers. He was probably the most disappointing branch of the tree of David. Except Enoch. Nobody liked Enoch. You remember Enoch. He begat Hezekia, who begat Olyf, who begat Adon who begat Ahmed the Bastard, Rebekah the cripple, and Susanah who was known by Nicodemous the dwarf? That Enoch. Jesus was 30 and he had never known a woman. And he had never been to the top of that particular mountain. He rolled over and lay face down in his bed. Theearly morning noises of the village began to seep into his hut. Children were pounding rocks into rudimentary stone tools. Roman centurions were beating someone for not paying their taxes. The village mad man had started screaming at his bush. Lepers were lamenting as they collected a small pile of body parts that had fallen off the night before. It was the beginning of a glorious day in the small Roman enclave of Nazereth. But Jesus had just turned 30 and no one would even remember his birthday. No one would celebrate his birthday. He thought back to when he was 12 and lecturing some rabbis in the temple. He was mostly explaining the finer points of a dance from Bethlehem that makes the ladies want to be known. That was cool. Jesus stared at the motivational phrase that he had scrawled into the wall of his hut: “Low but woe to you if you tread upon the crippled. For there will be much wailing and gnashing of teeth unto you. There will be rending of clothing and the lamentations of the women will be heard across the sea of Galilee.” And Jesus thought: That’s right! That’s exactly what I was thinking! What am I doing in bed on my 30th birthday? I should be out ENJOYING it. It’s my day, and I don’t care if people remember it or not. I’m Jesus of Nazereth, goddamnit. This is going to be my year! Jesus rolled out of bed onto the dirt floor. He did ten pushups. He did twenty sit ups. He made a promise to himself that he would work out every day. Every single day. He threw on his robe and stepped into his sandals. He promised himself that he was finally going to write that book that he’d been thinking about for all these years. He dashed some water across his face and saw his reflection in the bowl. His beard was full and shiny. His hair was long and thick. His skin was totally white and his eyes were totally blue. It is a miracle I’m still single, he thought, an absolute miracle. He walked outside and saw a leper walking down the street, begging for a couple of dinar to change his soiled, stinking bandages. Jesus reached into his robe to see if he has a spare dinar but alas he did not. Instead, he decided to slap the Leper a vigorous high-five. He rose his hand, the leper rose his pestilent, gangrenous stump. The slapped their limbs together. A smattering of rotted elbow meat flew onto Jesus’s robe. But he didn’t mind. He was Jesus, after all. Immediately, the Leper’s hand grew back from where it had previously rotted away into mushy oblivion. “THANKS, JESUS!” the Leper said. “No problem! Pay it forward!” said Jesus, without even breaking a stride. “I don’t know what that means,” yelled the Leper, as he disappeared into the distance. Jesus felt good. It felt good to do nice things for people. Maybe that should be the theme of his book. He was 30 years old and it was time to make all of his dreams come true. He thought to call it, “Doing Nice Stuff For Strangers, and You Can Too.” No, that was a stupid title. He vowed to figure out a better title for his book. Then he decided to go to the ocean to see if there was anyone he could be really, really nice to out there. Jesus walked for two hours to get to the ocean. Finally, he arrived and saw a fishing boat. It was James and John. They were always fishing. He ran out to see them. James and John watched Jesus sprinting along the water. They both looked at one another and thought the same thing: “He’s doing it again, man.” Jesus reached, the boat panting and winded. Push-ups, sit-ups, and jogging every day. That was a promise. By the time he was 31, he swore to Dad, he was going to be ripped. “How’s it going guys?” he asked, wheezing somewhat. James and John sat down in their boat and put their heads between their hands, murmuring incoherently. |
“What’s wrong, dudes?” he tried again, climbing aboard.
“Oh it’s nothing,” said James. “Really.” But Jesus could tell that something was really bothering him. Maybe this was another good deed that he could do, you know, for his birthday. “I know that look. Come on guys! You can tell your old pal Jesus anything,” he said, putting his hands on his hips and cocking a wry smile, the way he always does. “Do you guys have syphilis?” “Gross Jesus, no!” said James. John said nothing. He just looked at his sandals and said nothing. “Okay, here’s the thing,” explained James. “We’ve been fishing all day, right, and we only have two tiny fish in our basket. Sad, right?” John opened the basket. Jesus saw two pathetic little flounders flopping in the bottom of the basket. Just then, he got an idea. “Well, guys… I wish I could help you and all, but I’ve gotta run.” “You just got here!” said James. “Actually James, I’ve been here for 30 years.” With that, he leapt out of the boat and ran back to shore. In the distance he could hear James yelling “WHERE DID ALL OF THESE FISH COME FROM!?” He did not hear John saying, “OH MY GOD, THERE ARE WAY, WAY TOO MANY FISH! THE BOAT IS SINKING!” Two good deeds done and this was his best birthday ever. On returning to the center of Nazereth, he was on a good deed frenzy. He helped a Sumerian woman get water from a well… and nobody likes Sumerians. Nobody. He exorcized an evil spirit from a mad man and threw the demon into a flock of pigs who killed themselves in a lake. Then he had a really awkward conversation with the guy who owned the pigs. And the other guy who owned the lake. After about an hour, he had dragged the pig carcasses from the lake and revived them, and everybody was cool with it. Crisis averted. “Thanks Jesus!” they all said After a long day, Jesus realized that the sun was going down. He thought back to how depressed he was at the beginning in the morning, and what a wonderful day he had had in the end. He thought… you know what? I should do this every year. So what if I never write a book. I can show the people around me that I care about them. And isn’t that what my birthday is really about? With that, he decided to go and drink an entire clay cask of wine all by himself, travelling to the local tavern. It was dark inside. He thought for a moment that there was no one to wash his feet, anoint his head, and get him rip roaring hammered on cask wine like Moses would have done. BUT JUST THEN, all of the lanterns in the room illuminated, and everyone yelled, “Mu-Fuszh-AH!” which is Aramaic for“surprise!” Everyone was there! His twelve best friends! The pharisees. His mom. His stepdad. A bunch of lepers and prostitutes. “You guys remembered!” “Of course, Jesus!” said the littlest leper. “We would never forget your birthday, man. It’s the time of year where we all come together to be with the people that we care about.” Then his leg fell off. But Jesus healed it. “I thought you’d all forgotten!” “Of course not,” said Mary Magdalene. “Now, who wants to get their feet washed!?” Everyone’s hands went up as they all joyfully yelled: “Happy Birthday, Jesus!” |