Call Me Joe

by Martin Van Es

  “So what will it be like?” Gilly asked again. “People want to know. Death is a frightening concept for many of us.”

  The Ukrainian walked into the VIP crowd with all the authority of a man with an all-areas pass, making eye contact with no one as he moved close to where Sophie and Alice were standing. Everyone’s eyes were on the stage anyway, no one would have been able to identify him in a line-up if they had ever been called to do so.

  “Do you remember what it was like before you were born, Gilly?” Joe asked.

  “Of course not.”

  “So it does not frighten you to look back to that time when your consciousness did not occupy a physical body?”

  “No.”

  “Then there is no need to fear what is coming, because it will be the same. You will return to being part of nothing and part of everything.”

  “Will there be no reward for those who have done good and great things?”

  “If you do good and great things, Gilly, you will feel good now because it is what you are supposed to do. That will be your reward. There will be no special prize-giving at the end.”

  “Why did you have to be crucified for the sins of other people?”

  The Ukrainian was so close to Sophie he could breathe in her perfume. He absorbed every detail of her appearance, watching the way her eyes were glued to Joe on the stage, soaking up every bit of information, storing it in his memory without yet knowing how he would use it.

  “I died because the people who had the power were afraid I was going to take it away from them,” Joe replied, “much like the powerful people today. But I only wanted to open people’s eyes to the truth so that they got along better, much as I am still trying to do today. I did not expect to ‘take on the sins of humanity’. That was a concept invented by someone else much later. To be honest, I don’t really understand what they mean.”

  Gilly returned to her clipboard. “Are Homo sapiens the last link in the evolutionary chain?”

  “That, my friends,” Joe said, looking straight out into the crowd, “is up to all of you. There may be further developments possible, but they always bring risks, just like every previous development, from the discovery of fire, which can create terrible destruction as well as enormous good, to the wheel, which can lead to millions of road deaths. You guys will have to decide which risks are worth taking.”

  “Of all the world’s religions,” Gilly said, “which do you think is the best?”

  The crowd laughed nervously and Joe grinned. “Are you determined to get me into trouble, Gilly?”

  “No, no, of course not.” Gilly seemed flustered for a moment.

  “It’s all right,” he assured her, “I’m just teasing. I’m here for all people, no matter what books they have read, what churches they have been worshipping in or what their parents and their priests taught them when they were children. I do not like teachings which exclude other people and I don’t think that any interpretation of scriptures should incite contempt, hatred or violence against others. All religions should be forces for good and not divisive, but given that proviso I have no objection to any of them. Great acts and great crimes have been committed by people who purport to follow all religions.”

  “What is your opinion of the Prophet Mohammed?”

  “He brought many new insights and his intentions were good. Times were different then too. He was brave, just, giving and averse to hatred.”

  “Do you think mankind has been a force for good on the planet or bad?”

  “We have done a lot of harm, eradicated many other species for example, but we have achieved great things too, in the arts, in medicine.”

  The Ukrainian had moved to stand behind the group of Twelve, who were all together at the front of the roped-off area, all watching the stage, none of them aware of how closely they were being scrutinised from behind.

  “What is your opinion of the Bible?” Gilly asked.

  Joe sighed and rubbed his eyes, giving himself time to think before answering. “It was written by men, not by God and it is full of beautiful stories which have been passed down through the generations. Many of those stories taught useful lessons but many of them got their facts wrong when it came to telling my story. I never met Matthew, Mark, Luke or John. Mark wrote his gospel forty years after my death, John wrote his sixty years after, but the messages of living for others not yourself are good. I don’t remember ever walking on water” – he paused to allow the crowd to laugh – “and Judas did not betray me. I think they blamed him later because he left the Christian church soon after I went. And I am pretty sure my dear mother was not an eternal virgin since I had a number of brothers and sisters.”

  “What about the Old Testament?”

  “Wonderful, exciting stories, but I don’t recognise God in them at all. He is not evil, imperialist, destructive, jealous or vainglorious. He certainly didn’t persecute the Egyptians. So on balance I would say, cherish the stories and the psalms you find in the holy books, but do not base your truth on them.”

  “Bringing us back to the problems of today,” Gilly said, changing the subject, “a lot of people have asked: How do you feel about capitalism?”

  “I’m not an economist, but I do know that it has brought prosperity to many people. There will always be a need for financial mediation because there will always be people with ideas and no money and people who have money to invest but no ideas. I also know that it is much too hard on those who do not win the game. The system itself is not immoral, it is amoral. It is individual people’s gluttony and fear of losing what they have which causes the problems. The rich must share the rewards they receive much more generously, and not just with their own children. Too big a gap between those at the top of the pile and those at the bottom should never be allowed to happen.”

  “And do you believe in equality for women?”

  “Of course!” he laughed. “I’m surprised you even have to ask, Gilly!”

  There was a roar of approval from the crowd and Gilly pointed to her clipboard in defence. “Just following the script,” she said.

  “Gender is entirely irrelevant. People are people. It makes no difference to me if they are male or female. I understand that in many parts of the world men still believe they are superior to women. They are not. Nor are they inferior. It is time to change that. Everyone must be equal and we must remember that most religious scriptures were written by men in times when they put themselves above women.”

  “How do you feel about celibacy in the church?”

  “I don’t think celibacy is ever good – unless it is what you want with all your heart. Having a partner enriches everyone’s lives. It is something that the church leaders are going to have to think about.”

  “You mean change the Papal rule?”

  “It is perfectly possible. Petrus, the first Pope, was my friend and he was married.”

  “And lust?”

  “I don’t think lust is a problem as long as no one is hurt by it. Sexuality is too great a gift to be used only for the purposes of reproduction, just as eating good food is about more than simply fuelling the body to survive. Disapproval of sexuality expressed by religious leaders has too often become linked to contempt for all things feminine, and sexuality has become confused with sin. But at the same time mankind also needs to combat population growth and stem the spread of diseases so people need to be helped with the provision of effective contraceptives.”

  “And what about homosexuality?”

  “People’s sexuality is of no more interest to me than their gender. People are people and they should all be free to find and give love wherever they choose.”

  The crowd erupted with another explosion of approval.

  “And abortion?” Gilly continued as soon as she could be heard. The crowd fell silent, eager to hear his a
nswer.

  “Women should be the ones to decide what they do with their own bodies, but both men and women should try hard not to create pregnancies unless they really want the responsibility of bringing up a child. Every child needs happy parents. I wish I could give one wise answer that would cover every situation but sometimes it is not possible to find easy solutions to difficult questions.”

  “And euthanasia?” Gilly continued in the silence.

  “I think that it can be right to offer people a gentler way out, just like offering them medication for pain. But careful and compassionate policies need to be worked out first.”

  “A lot of people have asked what you feel about genetic modification and mankind making changes to the bodies and faces that God gave them.”

  “It’s fine, as long as it is done for the right medical reasons and it is a free choice,” Joe grinned. “People can be works of art too. But if the goal is simply human improvement, I doubt that is possible to achieve.”

  “How should we deal with dangerous radicalisation?”

  “If all of mankind has shared, collective goals and wants world peace, then there will be no place for the radicals to go with their arguments. They will find no support anywhere. There will be no one left for them to hate.”

  “Do you believe that mankind can ever be truly free, or do we always have to have rules to follow?”

  “We will always need some supervision, guidance and control because tolerance has limits and although no baby is born bad, mental illness and wickedness do exist and can’t be allowed to prosper and hurt other people. But that supervision must come in a form that is acceptable to all. It cannot be forced on a majority by a minority.”

  “And so there should be punishments for those who break the rules?”

  “Yes, but all the penalties should be designed to educate the recipient so that they can live better lives as a result.”

  “Here’s another popular question, if a little left of field.” Gilly wanted to get the crowd cheering again. “Is there life on any other planets?”

  Joe spread his hands wide. “Do you think this is all I do? Once every two thousand years?”

  There was a puzzled silence for a few seconds before the eruption of cheers. Feeling that she had the crowd back on side, Gilly stepped back into dangerous territory.

  “What is your view of the Israel–Palestine conflict?”

  “I think it is unlikely that God promised the land to any one race or tribe or people. But everyone has a right to live in peace, don’t you think? Parties should realise that they are all sons and daughters of Ibrahim, or Abraham if you prefer. The Israelis and the Arabs are brothers and sisters. It is a family conflict; a battle between tribes just as might happen in Africa. It is a very deep conflict, a cocktail of territorial, economic, political, cultural and religious causes. Everyone must learn to forgive and allow divine beauty to shine.”

  “So, why have you returned?” Gilly asked, putting the clipboard down as if she were now making the questions up herself.

  “I want to help reduce suffering by creating a more peaceful, harmonious society. I want to make it possible for everyone to work together. I want to help every individual to find self-knowledge and to learn to forgive. I also want to ask each and every one of you to make an individual effort to help save the planet.” He turned to the camera that was on him. “There are twelve people among you who have devised a master plan for the whole world to live together in peace and harmony. I am here to help them to put that plan into practice, providing guidelines for every living soul to be able to live happily with themselves and with every other citizen on the planet. There are things which all of you can do today. Stop eating meat, for instance. Only use planes and cars when strictly necessary and choose to have one less child. If everyone took these pledges it would make an enormous difference.”

  “I believe these guidelines will be appearing on the screens once the interview is over,” Gilly said.

  “They will also be circulating widely through social media,” Joe said. “They will not be hard to find and we hope they will help everyone to see the right ways forward.”

  “And why have you chosen New Zealand for your return?” Gilly asked. “Why not return to Jerusalem with all the symbolism that would entail?”

  “I have the strongest feelings for Jerusalem and will be returning there,” he assured her, “but this is a new start.”

  “But still,” Gilly persisted, “why New Zealand?”

  “Your Prime Minister explained ‘manaakitanga’ to me recently,” he said, and for a few seconds the cameras swung onto the Prime Minister’s beaming face in the VIP area of the crowd. “The people of New Zealand are exceptionally hospitable, friendly and helpful. Combine that with the fantastic landscapes and anyone can see why you call your country ‘God’s own’.” He turned back to Gilly. “Can I take a moment here to thank someone who has helped me more than anyone?”

  “Of course,” Gilly said, glancing nervously at the clock on the camera to see if she had time for this.

  “I want the world to know what a huge part my friend, Sophie, has played in helping me to reach out to all of you.”

  Sophie heard her name booming from the speakers but it didn’t seem real. It was as if Joe was talking about someone else. She felt suddenly afraid at such exposure, at the same time as feeling excitement at the thought he had actually acknowledged her in such a public way.

  “She is the only visionary who foresaw my coming, and she is as saintly a person as it is possible to be. We should all seek to emulate her.”

  As the initial frisson of fear wore off, Sophie found herself simultaneously thrilled and embarrassed to be picked out so conspicuously. People close to her, who knew her, were turning to face her as they raised their hands to applaud and nodded their approval of this praise. Social media lit up with her name as the whole world tried to find out more about her and within seconds the haters had started to target her.

  “You have talked elsewhere about forming one government for the whole world, guided by twelve people of your choosing,” Gilly said. “Are you truly suggesting that the whole world should be a single totalitarian state, run by a bunch of your own cronies?”

  “Absolutely not,” Joe said quietly as the crowd waited silently, surprised by Gilly’s forthright use of language but at the same time wanting to hear his answer. “Democracy must be protected at all costs. You have seen the rise of totalitarian leaders all over the free world in recent years, men and women driven insane by their lust for power and riches, and choosing to create hatred and divisions. That can never be right. All I am suggesting is that all people should work together for the good of others. That means everyone. No one should be excluded; not you, Gilly, not the poorest villager in Central Africa or the richest capitalist on Wall Street. We are all God’s creatures and in our hearts we all know right from wrong. We all know when we are doing the right things and when we are doing the wrong things because God gave us consciences. We just need to agree on the right way to go forward.”

  Behind the scenes the organisers had assembled a mighty gospel choir and an orchestra, which were now preparing to provide the lead into the final part of the show. Everyone was concentrating on the part they had been allotted to play, none of them noticing the Ukrainian, who had returned backstage from the VIP area, talking into his radio as if he had been summoned to do a particular job. He just looked like one more technician as he moved amongst them, watching everyone, memorising every detail of what he saw.

  “And will you be staying on Earth this time?” Gilly asked Joe.

  “God only knows,” he shrugged and the conductor raised his baton. The scenery parted to allow the celestial music and voices to wash out over the heads of the delirious crowd. Gilly rose from her chair and knelt respectfully at Joe’s feet, the showman in he
r soul sensing that it was what the crowd wanted to see.

  The Ukrainian took a deep breath and moved to the side of the stage where Joe would be exiting.

  Forty-One

  The power of the singers’ voices carried the spirits of the crowd even higher as they cheered and clapped and whooped their encouragement towards Gilly and Joe who were now taking discreet bows and moving off towards the side of the stage. Joe was fiddling with the microphone which had been fitted to the lapel of his jacket and the Ukrainian was suddenly beside him, as if ready to help with its removal, his fingers gripping the handle of the knife secreted inside his jacket.

  “You were fantastic,” Sophie said, accidentally elbowing the Ukrainian aside in her eagerness to throw her arms around Joe’s neck and congratulate him. “Sorry,” she said to the man she assumed was a technician, aware that she must have winded him in her eagerness, but he was already hurrying away.

  “The crowd loved every word of it,” she whispered into Joe’s ear. “And thank you for what you said at the end.”

  “It was fun.” Joe returned her hug. He was on a high from the experience. The energy from the audience and the adrenalin from performing in such an unfamiliar setting combined to make his head buzz with pleasure.

  The opportunity having passed, the Ukrainian vanished back through the crowd, which was now swarming around Joe, heaping praise on his performance, everyone wanting to catch his eye and perhaps even to touch him.

  The moment Joe released Sophie from the hug she found herself being pulled backwards by eager hands and within seconds there was a sea of people between them; nearly all of them, she noticed, seemed to be attractive young women. Gilly was at the front. Sophie glanced around for the man she had elbowed aside, wanting to apologise properly, but he was nowhere in sight.

  “There’s an after-show party at a local nightclub,” Gilly was telling Joe. “Everyone would love it if you came.”