Call Me Joe

by Martin Van Es

  “So how did you find out that Joseph wasn’t your real father?”

  “He told me himself, when I was about twelve. We were walking back from working in Sepphoris, which was about an hour’s walk, and he explained to me that I was the Son of God and because of that life would not be easy for me.”

  “That must have been a shock.”

  “He told me that he would always think of me as his son and always love me like all the other children, and he was as good as his word. I never felt I was any different to the others in his eyes. When he died I was thirty-two and I realised that I had never really been cut out to be a carpenter and I became disillusioned by my working life. The contractors were earning huge amounts, but the workers were usually exploited. I didn’t think this was good for anyone. When Joseph died in an accident at work my brothers wanted to continue the business but I decided to become a teacher. I gave my possessions away to people whom I believed would use them well and I was baptised by John. Baptism brought me a deep awareness of the fact that I was the Son of God. It was a tipping point in my life.

  “I went off into the desert to sort out in my head what I really wanted to do with my life. John’s idea of baptism was very different to mine. He saw it as a way for people to avoid the ‘Day of Revenge’. I didn’t believe in all that. I saw it as a moment when you start living differently, because that was how it was for me. I soon had my own students, or disciples, and we started to travel around baptising people ourselves.”

  “Had you been to school at all?”

  “Oh yes. When I was six I attended some classes, but the other children and the teacher all laughed at me because I said I thought the world was round, like the sun and the moon. I remember the teacher becoming very angry because he couldn’t convince me otherwise.”

  “How old are you now?”

  “Well, I was thirty-five when I left the Earth last time, so I guess I still am. There really isn’t any concept of time where I have been for the last two thousand Earth years.”

  “So, what happened once you were out there baptising people?”

  “We decided to baptise people ourselves, but for different reasons to John. I did not believe that God wanted human sacrifices.

  “For us, baptism represented the moment when you decided to start living differently, taking more responsibility for the weak in society. I wanted a world in which the goodness of people would rise to the surface rather than the selfishness and hardness that was so common. I called such a world the ‘Kingdom of God’, a kingdom of wisdom and not a kingdom as an end-time.

  “As more and more people were baptised, the Romans became alarmed, claiming we were causing unrest. My friend John was arrested and killed and we had to be very alert. We withdrew for a while into the desert while I transformed from overseer to prophet.

  “We went to Capernaum, a town near the mountains where my friend and disciple Peter owned a nice house. It became our base. I liked to go to the synagogue there, on the Sabbath. But we wanted to reach more people, so we travelled through Galilee and Judea. We came to villages, in the countryside, going to people’s homes and telling them about our vision of a future in which people live together harmoniously, without self-enrichment, without hypocrisy and with compassion for others who are less healthy or less fortunate.

  “We were also critical of the Jewish authorities, who were complacent and only interested in their own position and prosperity and not opposing the Romans, who were very cruel and greedy.

  “We got more and more followers. Some embraced our mission, others longed for a strong political leader, or for a king like before, a new David or Solomon. I was generally called ‘rabbi’, a master, and I thought that was fine.

  “I have the divine gift to heal people, a privilege for which I am very grateful. That allowed me to give many a better life. I was a child of that time, a contemporary man, albeit with divine gifts. I was convinced that I was casting out the devil on mentally ill or epileptic people. Now, with the knowledge of today, I am able to think about it in a much more nuanced way.

  “Not everyone was happy with me. There were people who were deeply disappointed when I indicated that I had no ambitions to become king of Israel and that I believed this would only lead to a bloody defeat. They did not want to hear it; they wanted a decisive leader who would initiate liberation from the Romans. As a result, we narrowly escaped being stoned a few times.

  “I often differed with Jewish scribes. I challenged the religious thinking at the time and did not avoid confrontation. We had different opinions about many things; about the Sabbath, about fasting, about unclean food, about attitudes to family, about dealing with criminals, lepers and prostitutes. They were more concerned about appearances than about inner cleanliness. And they struggled to forgive people their mistakes. They were very strict. And then there were the Romans, who feared that I did indeed want to claim the kingship. Herod Antipas had a network of spies throughout the country who reported on our gatherings.

  “During a stay in the temple in Jerusalem we got into a conflict with the temple police. We became very angry that the temple had become like a market instead of a holy place of prayer, reflection and help. There was trading in sacrificial animals and other products, at very high prices; money was exchanged, money was borrowed, bets were made. To be honest we created a lot of chaos there.

  “We heard that an arrest warrant had been issued by the Sanhedrin against me for temple violation, an act that was punishable by death, so we fled. We continued to travel but stayed for shorter times at each location. In between we went back to Capernaum. Not only to rest, but also to avoid the growing crowd that followed us. The assemblies were catching the attention of those in power too often.

  “The tension increased and one day we received the message that Lazarus had been arrested and tortured and killed. After we buried him I decided to go to the Pesach celebration in Jerusalem, the final goal of my tour. I had not been in town for very long when I was arrested by soldiers of the high priest at the Mount of Olives. From that moment on I was treated like a criminal and I clearly acknowledged that I was the Son of God. I also confirmed that I had a vision about the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem if they did not change their ways, something that actually happened about forty years later. They came to a judgment very quickly, because unrest in the city during Pesach had to be prevented. Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor, was asked to put me to death. I had become too dangerous for those in power. I was crucified, which was the most dishonourable method to end someone’s life. I wanted a better world and had to pay for it.

  “My body died, but the divine spirit within me always survives, so I actually rose from the dead. My disciples, who subsequently became apostles, promised to continue our work, even in areas where our message was not yet spread. My Father called to me, so I went there and now I am here again.”

  Sophie would happily have stayed inside the hotel suite watching television and talking with Joe for the rest of her life, but he was becoming increasingly stir crazy. Several times a day he would cause alarm amongst the police and security forces surrounding the hotel as he stepped outside without warning to talk to the crowds of people and media who were willing to wait day and night for the chance of even a glimpse of him at a window.

  It was apparent to him that people were travelling to Christchurch from all over the world because of the range of different languages in which the crowds called out to him, begging for a word or a touch. It wasn’t long before the media noticed that he was able to talk to all these people in their own languages, even dialects from the remotest parts of India, China and Africa, where no more than a few hundred thousand people spoke the same language. One or two of the editors put him to the test by infiltrating people into the crowd who could speak an obscure language and springing them on him unannounced. Never once did he hesitate in responding to them
in their native tongues.

  Every time he stepped outside the hotel he fed the world’s endless appetite for more stories. Every miracle of healing or speaking in tongues that he performed was immediately recorded on a hundred different phones and shared with millions of others within hours.

  Each time he stepped from the elevator the police and security representatives would rush across the foyer and try to dissuade him from walking out into the crowd unprotected, warning him of possible assassination attempts, begging him to wear a bulletproof vest, or to remain inside the foyer and allow them to bring people to him in an orderly fashion, searching them for weapons before allowing them close enough to strike. Each time he would smile sweetly, thank them for their concern, promise them that he would be safe and walk straight past them.

  The increasing numbers who wanted to believe that he was the Son of God put forward the evidence of the unique DNA, the healings and speaking in tongues – the shrinking numbers of those who resolutely refused to believe it, led by the American President, who continued to shout “fraud” to anyone who was still listening, claimed that it was either a very clever hoax or simply a normal man with some freak abilities to learn and speak languages and perform faith healings.

  His message of hope was irresistible to anyone who had previously felt that life was hopeless. People who had been struggling with poverty for generations now believed that Joe would be able to bring an end to the inequality that had blighted their existences, that he would be able to make the changes necessary for their children and grandchildren to live long, decent lives, free of hunger, poverty and disease, with equal opportunities for health and happiness. It was a compelling message and anyone in authority who agreed with the President and attempted to say it was all a trick succeeded only in appearing mean-spirited and pessimistic. Words like “faith” and “hope” trended heavily in online chatter.

  The Pope, watching events unfold from Rome, was the first of the leaders of the biggest religions to ask his advisors to begin contacting other religious leaders through diplomatic channels.

  “Let’s gather together twelve leaders as well,” he suggested. “The religious world has been too fragmented for too long.”

  “His Holiness would very much like to discuss what these developments are likely to mean to all our followers,” the diplomats told others, leaving unsaid the subtext that, just like the political and military leaders, they also wanted to discuss the possible effects on their own power bases of a new leader who might unite all the previously separated factions.

  Initially, just like the politicians and generals, the religious leaders chose to believe that Joe was a confidence trickster and a potential troublemaker, but as the evidence of his divinity continued to build they began to understand that he might be speaking to mankind on behalf of all their gods. Some were more willing and open to accept this possibility than others. Some shared the American President’s view that if things were allowed to continue along the same path, they might soon find that their own positions, which had been carefully, and in some cases ruthlessly, built up over many hundreds of years, had dissolved away to nothing like sand beneath their feet.

  There were many who held positions of unimaginable power who whispered to one another behind closed doors that “something” might have to be done to remove such a potential threat to their positions.

  Twenty-Six

  “We would very much like it if you could join us at the house for some face-to-face time,” Yung was talking over Skype. “This is such an insecure way to communicate.”

  “I have no secrets,” Joe laughed. “I am an open book for all to read.”

  “I understand,” she said, “but overheard conversations can be misunderstood and twisted out of context if they fall into the wrong hands.”

  “It would be nice to see you all again,” Joe said, “and nice for Sophie and me to get out of this hotel suite for a while.”

  “Oh,” Yung said, obviously taken aback, “is Sophie still with you? I hadn’t realised.”

  “I have been suspended from my duties at the school,” Sophie chipped in, leaning across the bed in order to come into the camera’s range. “Didn’t Hugo tell you?”

  “Ah, yes, of course, I had forgotten. It would be great to see you too, Sophie.”

  It seemed obvious to Sophie that Yung, having ascertained from the school authorities that her son was safe after his experience of being trampled in the crowd, had not found time to talk to him since they had left the house on the Sunday evening. It had always amazed her how quickly the parents of boarders managed to forget their children as they pursued their own busy lives. Being ‘out of sight’ most definitely led to being ‘out of mind’.

  It was arranged for one of Yung’s drivers to pick them up from the service area of the hotel, in the hope that none of the people waiting outside would realise that Joe had left the premises, but someone in the media must have bribed a member of staff to keep them informed of his movements and, as soon as one journalist peeled off from the pack at the front of the hotel and jumped into her car, others realised that there was something going on and followed suit. Within ten minutes of Joe and Sophie leaving the grounds of the hotel there was a convoy of cars and television trucks on their tail. Ten minutes later, a police helicopter appeared above them, soon followed by several more unmarked ones.

  “Are they all from the press, do you suppose?” Sophie asked, peering up into the skies.

  “Some will be media, ma’am,” the driver replied, “but Miss Yung warned that there might also now be military and security surveillance teams on your case.”

  “Military and security surveillance?” Sophie tried to get her head around the idea. “Why would they be interested in where Joe goes?”

  “The Chinese government is interested in anything to do with Miss Yung,” the driver replied, “and other governments are interested in anything the Chinese are interested in. Many of the big corporations are also worried and are reaching out to the military, offering financial backing. They are all beginning to fear the possibilities of widespread civil unrest. We have been instructed to stay on high alert at all times.”

  “They think there is going to be some sort of revolution?” Sophie was amazed. “In New Zealand?”

  “They are afraid it is going to kick off everywhere, ma’am, starting with here.”

  “Seems you have become the global Che Guevara of the cyber age,” Sophie said, sinking back into her seat and taking hold of Joe’s hand.

  “You think they’ll be putting my face on T-shirts?” Joe laughed. “That would be cool.”

  “He was executed on the orders of the President of Bolivia,” Sophie reminded him, and they both contemplated that thought for a few moments.

  “I suppose what I am suggesting mankind should do is a sort of revolution,” Joe said eventually, “but hopefully a peaceful one.”

  “Maybe we should design some T-shirts anyway,” Sophie joked, wanting to shake off thoughts of death and crucifixion.

  “If they are bringing in the military,” Joe said, “I guess they are expecting it to be anything but peaceful.”

  Sophie leaned forward to the driver again. “Would any of those helicopters be armed?”

  “I would imagine so, ma’am,” he said, “for your protection.”

  “Or our annihilation,” she muttered, sitting back and holding herself close to Joe, feeling suddenly vulnerable and hunted.

  “You worry too much,” he said, gently stroking her hair. “Have faith.”

  “That’s easy for you to say, but you don’t understand just how much of a hornets’ nest you have stirred up here,” she said. “When people in power feel threatened they always lash out viciously. Now we have politicians, big business and the military wanting to shut you down.”

  He smiled and kissed the top of
her head and repeated, “Just have faith.”

  “Yeah, right,” she replied, making them both laugh.

  “What’s happening there?” Joe asked the driver after they had been driving for twenty minutes, pointing at a sea of tents and camper vans which seemed to stretch from the side of the road all the way to the horizon. “That was all wide open space last time we came this way.”

  “That’s one of the tented villages,” the driver replied. “The city has overflowed. There are areas like that all round it. It started with the army setting up camps to house anyone who was unable to find a hotel room or a homeowner willing to put them up. Then people started arriving with their own equipment. It has mushroomed from there. Were you not aware?”

  “We have been avoiding the news the last few days,” Sophie said, staring out in awe. “It looks like some gigantic music festival.”

  “It is kind of a religious festival,” the driver said. “With every religious nutcase – begging your pardon, sir – setting up their stall and shouting out their message to anyone who will listen.”

  “Why have they come here to do this?” Joe asked.

  “They want to be close to you, sir. They believe that wherever you are is going to be where things will start to happen.”

  “Stop the car,” Joe said. “Let’s talk to them.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Sophie asked. “There are so many people, you could get mobbed. And the media are right behind us.”

  “She’s right, sir,” the driver agreed, “things could get out of hand.”

  “They are believers,” Joe said. “Many of them must have travelled a long way to be here. I trust them to look after me. Stop the car, please.”

  The driver pulled over to the side of the road and unlocked the doors, allowing Joe to climb out. Sophie scrambled across the seat, determined to stay close to him. There was a screeching of tyres and brakes as the media caravan realised they were stopping. Car doors slammed and there was a flurry of running figures shouting instructions to one another and then questions to Joe. He beamed back at them but said nothing as he strode in amongst the tents.