by Stan Mason
‘Had Christ been born a hundred years earlier or a hundred years later, he would have never influenced people to follow the Christian religion. The climate for such things would have been totally different. Everyone would certainly believe, as the Romans did, of the many Gods and Goddesses in the celestial kingdom. But, at the time he preached, it was significant for people to relieve themselves from the brutal oppression of the Roman Empire which had started to flounder as the greatest nation in the world. Corruption was rife; oppression was fierce. The people looked for a Messiah, and Jesus came along at the right time.’
‘So you consider Jesus Christ to have been a Messiah.’ The comment seemed to ring out through the television studio in the short pause that followed.
‘Not so!’ declared Warrior adamantly. He preached a new religion focussed on all the things the Romans ignored. Peace... mercy... a single God! He was a man in place at the very right time. And, like myself, he was a healer too.’
The presenter disregarded the last remark for the time being to pursue a more direct line of enquiry., ‘Christian people believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God. Do you believe that?’
‘My question to you is which God is he supposed to be the son of? There are so many in the celestial kingdom. Let’s use some common sense here. Jesus Christ was a mortal man like the rest of us with a message which angered the Jews and the Romans alike. He was crucified like any other person suspected of committing crimes against the Roman State. However, his teachings were carried on by his disciples and followers who hated Rome and everything the Romans stood for.’
‘But you believe that he lived.’
‘Of course! That’s the reason I’m here today. To undo all that he taught because it’s not true!’
‘You want to counter his teachings. To tell people to give up their Christian religion. What should they expect to believe in for a religion?’
‘You’re acting as Devil’s Advocate, sir,’ retorted the messenger bluntly. ‘My message from the Gods is to tell people they want to be worshipped. Not to pray to a single God as Christ taught them to do.’
‘You’re advocating the Christ was completely wrong to teach people to pray to one God!’
‘He was definitely wrong... but that was his opinion. He happened to come along at just the right time. Someone to fight against Roman rule... to turn the other cheek... to remain passive. Christ was a passive rebel. He preached tolerance and mercy to handfuls of people at secret meetings. However, legend has made him a martyr.’
The presenter raised his eyebrows, more for the sake of the views, that the surprise. ‘How can you identify him as a martyr if he was, as you told us, a son of one of the Gods?’
‘You’re twisting the argument, sir,’ declared the messenger becoming angry. ‘I’ve already explained that he was a mortal. He was also a healer. There were other healers around at the time of Christ but they didn’t preach a new mode of religion.’
Trevor-Edwards decided to change tack for the moment. ‘What are your thoughts on the New Testament of the Holy Bible?’
‘Writings... like many others. All written after Christ’s death. Most of them many years later. Gilded with an element of truth but fiction in the majority like Greek mythology. Take Centaurs for example. Half man, half horse. Greek villagers were aghast to see them when they appeared on the horizon. They had never seen men on horses before and believed they were all one. So it is with the New Testament. An element of truth coupled with a great deal of fiction. No one really knows who actually wrote those texts or how wide was their imagination.’
‘But how can you replace Christianity and Islam which are the two most popular religions in the world. Do you really expect people simply to worship hundreds of Gods and Goddesses.?’
‘They do in the Hindu religion. Each one represents something in our lives. Those with ill-health should pray to the Goddess of Hygiene.. Workers should seek the help of the God of Industry. Tourists to the God of the Sun... and so on.’
‘How can a person find out about all these Gods and what they do? There’s no real information on them... not even on the Internet.’
‘People will find their way if they pray to them and they will respond in turn.’
‘Which of them have actually appeared to you beyond your dreams?’
‘Originally it was five... but more come to me in my dreams.’
‘Don’t you think your message will divide people with regard to their religion?’
‘Divide!’ scoffed Warrior laughing loudly. ‘What could be more divided than the Christian religion? There are Anglican, Catholics, Baptists, Presbyterians, Protestants, Methodist, Seventh Day Adventists, Elamites, Mormons, and a whole host of other splinter groups. Take Islam, if you like, with Sunnis, Shias, Hamas, and a variety of other factions. No sir, if the people worship the multitude of Gods in the celestial kingdom, it would bring them all together. At present, they follow the religion set out by prophets who were mere mortals, like Jesus Christ and Mohammed whose Bibles have been written by anonymous writers. Do people really want to believe such stories and make them their faith?’
Trevor-Edwards continued to draw him out for a while with a number of tentatively difficult questions and scenarios. Then he introduce another of his guests. The man was a priest officiating at a local Anglican church who quickly declared the messenger to be a charlatan, a rebel and a trouble-maker. However he soon came under fire from the presenter being unable to answer the question as to why the congregations in all the churches had been dwindling so swiftly over the past ten years.
‘The question I’d like to ask Mr. Warrior,’ he uttered miserably, having been slightly bruised by the presenter, ‘is why have the Gods, he alleges are in existence, have waited two thousand years to contact him about it. If they are there, why did they wait such a long time?’
Warrior stared at the man directly in the eyes. ‘I don’t know the answer to that question,’ he responded coolly. ‘It may be that the Gods waited patiently to see whether we would turn to them again. Or perhaps times goes by exceedingly quickly in the celestial kingdom. A thousand years may be a very short time. In any case, the question’s irrelevant.’
The priest smirked and turned his face before posing another question. ‘Why do you think the Gods chose you to pass on their message?
‘Are you particularly religious?’ cut in Trevor-Edwards trying to lead the debate.
Warrior shrugged his shoulders disconsolately. ‘I ws born a Christian but I haven’t been to church for a very long time.’
The presenter pressed on relentlessly with his line of questioning. ‘Do you not consider that your dreams are simply a figment of your imagination because you believe you should be more religious?’
I’ve not guilt when it comes to religion,’ stated the messenger candidly, ‘because I believe that most people employed by the church are bigots.’
This comment brought a wave of resentment from the audience in the studio and caused the priest to raise his hands in silent despair.
‘A few hundred years ago,’ continued Warrior unabated, ‘the church was involved with politics and the law, and they tried people as heretics or witches and burned them at the stake. Now their wings have been clipped and priests can only preach religion. That’s the truth of the matter. And they’re losing their congregations at a rate of knots. Is it any wonder? It’s because there are many Gods up there and people need to pray to them. In about five hundred years time, Christianity will die a death and what will people have then?’
The foray into the failings of the church brought another storm of protest which Warrior shrugged off.
‘You said earlier,’ declared the presenter, ‘that you didn’t believe Christ was a Messiah. Do you consider yourself to be one?’
The priest snorted loudly but he did not deter the messeng
er.
‘A Messiah is a deliverer or liberations,’ answered Warrior. ‘I’m simply a messenger of the Gods.’
‘But you are a deliverer. You’re actively delivering a message.’ The presenter was aiming to corner him but he wasn’t successful.
‘I’m just a messenger... not a Messiah. I’ve no axe to grind... no direct feeling towards religion. Not even praying to the Gods, although I do have a protector now.’
‘Oh, yes!’ intervened the priest, beginning to feel left out of the argument. ‘And what might his name be?’
‘It’s actually a Goddess. Her name to us is Xantha Vesta and she’s the Goddess of Love.’
‘Do you pray to her?’ asked Trevor-Edwards curtly.
‘Not yet,’ stated the messenger, unwilling to relate his relationship with the Goddess. One thing was patently clear... they would never understand what had happened in his bedroom if he explained it to them.
‘How do you know she’s your protector?’ demanded the priest in an attempt to expose the other man. ‘Explain how you know that!’
‘She appeared to me in human form,’
There was a gasp from the audience and the whole studio fell silent.
‘In human form,’ repeated the presenter becoming excited as he realised that he had broken new ground.
‘She appeared to me in my bedroom and I wasn’t dreaming at the time. All I have to do is to think of her and call her name in my mind.’
‘Can you do that now... so that the audience can see her?’ asked the presenter although he knew the answer in advance.
‘She’ll only come to me if I need help, I believe in her and I pray to her. But this audience is hostile and she has no reason to appear in human form.’
‘What a surprise!’ scoffed the priest disdainfully. ‘What a surprise!’ He turned to the messenger with a smirk on his face. ‘And you call the people of the church bigots! How dare you! How dare you create concern and havoc among Christian people to satisfy your whims. What are you trying to do... make yourself known... make yourself famous?’
‘The Gods and Goddesses will not go away,’ retaliated Warrior calmly. ‘They demand that people pray to them instead of one anonymous God.’
‘And what if we refuse to?’ interrupted the presenter. ‘What will happen to the general public who pray to one God under Christianity or Islam?’
The messenger shook his head. ‘I don’t know. I can only hope that people will listen to me and start to pray to them. Those who don’t will be without Godly protection. Their lives will drift and they’ll be influenced by a number of adverse factors. They need to change their ways for their own salvations.’
‘Utter rubbish!’ declared the priest savagely. ‘Those are the words of a crank!
Warrior pulled a newspaper from his pocket and brandished it in the face of the other man. ‘The words of a crank, eh!’ he spat angrily. ‘Well cast your eyes on this, priest.! Have a book at today’s newspaper.! He pointed directly to the headlines on the front page and looked directly into the lens of the camera. ‘Two major wars going on in the world at the same time. Floods in the Bangladesh Delta killing hundreds of people. A hurricane blasting the states of America. Drought in a number of African countries where people are dying by the tens of thousands. Riots in China where two hundred people have already died. A President in one of the countries in South America killing the opposition and everyone in sight. Civil war in one of the Russian states. Threat of war in the Middle East. Murders, rapes, crimes, torture, corruption, drinks, drugs... I could go on. Is this the kind of world your single God’s in control? If so, it’s sheer hell! The reason this is all happening is because there’s no protection by the Gods. Surely, even you, can grasp what I’m saying!’
‘Now that’s nonsense!’ exclaimed the priest feebly.
‘I don’t think so. People usually follow the religion passed down by their parents. They look to a single God who doesn’t exist, so they don’t receive a reply to their prayers. It would all be so different if they prayed to all the Gods.’
‘What you don’t understand is that all that happens in the world is part of God’s design,’ added the priest.
‘And how wrong would the design be if it were so! What you’re saying is that ‘God’s in his Heaven, all’s right with the world’.’
‘Was the world any different when people prayed to all the Gods,’ cut in Trevor-Edwards sharply in an attempt to separate the two men.
Brendan Moses sat in the control unit a short distance from the main arena. He watched the seven television screens on the frames in front of him, each showing different angles on the sets and the participants.
‘Close in on Warrior’s eyes, Jeff!’ he ordered the Controller who had the power to switch from one angle to another. ‘Go into his eyes,! Make them turn yellow!’
‘Yellow?’
‘Yeh, do it now!’
The Controller pressed some keys on the keyboard in front of him and the messenger’s eyes turned to make him look wild and alien. A few moments later the Director appeared in the control room.
‘Who made his eyes yellow?’ he asked firmly. The Controller put up his hand with concern. ‘Brilliant!’ commended the Director. ‘Brilliant! This is going to move us up in the ratings!’ He stared at the tracer. ‘Well done, Brendan! Get him back in, say, three months’ time for a rerun. Make it so!’ He wheeled around and swiftly left the room.
‘Make it so! ’mocked the Controller. ‘Make it so!’
The tracer sat back in the chair and smiled. ‘Looks like we have a winner here, Jeff.’ He left the room to go to his office and opened a drawer to retrieve a blank contract. It would be easier to sign up the messenger after the show was over than to contact him in the week’s ahead.
The arguments in the studio continued unabated between the priest and the messenger. There were other people waiting in the wings but the presenter allowed the two men to battle it out. ‘Let’s face it,’ said Warrior. ‘You don’t ever really pray to your no-existent God, do you? I mean you pray to Jesus Christ, a mere mortal, and call his the Son of God. He was an ordinary man with an idea. He is no son of any of the Gods!‘
The comment was too much for the priest and he lost his temper. Warrior rose to the occasion and the two of them stood face to face staring at each other angrily with the camera closed in for the kill. Then it happened. The messenger grabbed the priest by the lapel of his jacket and started to shake him. The priest attempted to protect himself and lashed out at Warrior’s face. They struggled for a while and then both men fell to the ground, rolling over and over, as they fought on the set. For the first time in his television career, Trevor-Edwards was at a loss as to what to do. Such behaviour had never been seen on the show before. He waved a hand to the two security guards who came into view of the cameras as they tried to separate the two antagonists. Eventually, everyone calmed down to sit in their seats again. The two men glared at each other as the presenter gave a sigh of relief.
‘Well , gentlemen,’ he told them smoothly. ‘I think we allowed our emotions to overcome us for a moment. Let’s keep it civil, shall we? Have you anything more to say, Mr. Warrior?’
‘Yes... by praying to the Gods and Goddesses, people will not lose their souls. Their lives will be rewarded with the help of the guardians up above. As the saying goes... ’the proof of the pudding is in the eating’. Don’t delay, that’s all I can say.’
The presenter turned to the priest who attempted to discredit the messenger but his arguments turned out to be feeble rather than damaging. The presenter then called the other people invited to take part in the programme and their contributions ran the programme to its final end.
Warrior was highly elated when the programme was over. He felt like walking on air having achieved his aim of passing on his message to millions of people. W
hether they would react positively to it was another matter. It all depended on time... a lot more time! He learned that the telephone lines to the studio had been blocked by the large number of calls resenting his blasphemy but he didn’t care. There would always be people who resisted the truth even if it hit them in the face. But he realised that there were also millions of viewers who took him seriously and they didn’t telephone the network. Maybe they were the ones who would pray to the numerous Gods without him even knowing!
Chapter Seven
Charlie Brown sat comfortably in an executive armchair in his office adjoining his photography studio. He faced his colleague, Gordon Dobson, shifting his obese body to reach for a glass of wine on the desk. Dobson leaned forward to emulate the action before sipping gently from the clear crystal glass. The photographs had contacted the older man after the last committee meeting so that they could meet up and discharge the task allocated to them. Here, in the peace and quiet of the photographic studio, they could discuss the matter at ease.
‘Let’s get down to the nitty-gritty,’ said Brown eventually. How do we go about finding out Warrior’s past?’
Dobson stared at him vaguely. ‘It is difficult,’ he uttered, rubbing the index finger of his right hand along his moustache to straighten it. ‘How old do you think he is?’
The photographer shrugged his shoulders. ‘About twenty-five or twenty-six, I suppose.’
‘I’d go along with twenty-six.’
‘But where does that get us?’ Brown placed his wineglass on the desk not having drunk any of it and he stared at it thoughtfully. ‘We’d have to go back over the last eight years... from the time he was eighteen.’
‘I wonder how much ground we’d have to cover,’ returned the older man seriously. ‘I mean it’s a good idea to dig up the dirt on someone but he might not have done anything serious. We don’t even know where he comes from. That would be a start to say the least. ‘
‘How about looking through the Internet under past criminal cases or something like that.’