[Vision2020] My Man

[Art Deco]

 *The New Yorker:*

    Shouts & Murmurs My Man  by Paul
Rudnick<http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/bios/paul_rudnick/search?contributorName=paul%20rudnick>
October 8, 2012


A historian of early Christianity at Harvard Divinity School has identified
a scrap of papyrus that she says was written in Coptic in the fourth
century and contains a phrase never seen in any piece of Scripture: “Jesus
said to them, ‘My wife . . .’ ”
—*The Times.*

Fine, now you know: Jesus was married and for many years I happily answered
to the name Mrs. Melissa Christ. I met Jesus when we were both teen-agers,
at a Young Hebrews mixer in Bethlehem. I was there with my best friend, Amy
of Nazareth, and we were getting ready to leave, because we were sick of
all those chubby Orthodox boys in rough burlap robes and untrimmed
sideburns coming up to us and saying things like “I hope you’re not
menstruating, because I’d really like to touch you.”

But then, across the room, I saw this beautiful guy with gorgeous flowing
hair, wearing a simple white linen tunic and swaying gently to the music
with his eyes shut, which was especially impressive because the band
consisted of two elderly men rhythmically squeezing a goat. I couldn’t help
staring, even after Amy told me, “I’ve heard about him. His name is Jesus
and he doesn’t have a job.” But then Jesus opened his stunning blue eyes
and gazed upon me, and I said to Amy, “I think I’ve just discovered one of
the lost tribes of Israel.” “Which one?” she asked, and I said, “The
blonds.”

Then Jesus came over and introduced himself and we chitchatted about
everything, from keeping the Sabbath to how we both felt really sorry for
the lame. Then I asked Jesus about his family, and he said, “My father is a
carpenter,” and I could feel myself getting all flushed as I immediately
thought, Hello, new coffee table.

After that, Jesus and I started seeing each other, although Jesus’ being
unemployed did start to bother me, and finally one night I asked him, “So
what are your plans?” And he replied, “Well, I’m thinking about inventing
Gentiles.” “Gentiles?” I asked. “What are those?” “You know,” Jesus
answered. “Jews who drink.”

Whenever Jesus would start telling me about this whole new-religion
business, I would get nervous and ask, “But why isn’t the Torah enough?”
And then Jesus would look deep into my eyes and smile and murmur, “First
draft.” Which would make me even more nervous, until one afternoon Jesus
sat me down on a rough-hewn bench and said, “All I’m talking about is
everyone loving and respecting each other, and sharing the Lord’s bounty
and bringing peace to the world.” And, while I was definitely intrigued, a
tiny voice inside my head kept repeating, “Don’t lend him money.”

As the months went by, Jesus began to get more serious about spreading his
message of compassion and understanding, and he began to attract hundreds
of followers, and all I kept thinking was, Where is everyone going to sit?
What if we run out of dried figs and almonds? That’s when Jesus waved his
hand and, I couldn’t believe it, but there it was: an all-you-can-eat
buffet. And I said to Jesus, “This is incredible, but I’m still a Jewish
girl,” and so he waved his hand again and there they were: napkins.

Of course, like any couple, Jesus and I had our challenges. I didn’t like
his friends, especially Judas, who kept telling people that he was Jesus’
manager, and who kept coming up with ideas like “What if everyone who comes
to hear the Sermon on the Mount gets a free, crude wooden bobblehead of one
of the apostles, so they’ll have to keep coming back, to collect them all?”
and “What if Jesus wore his hair up?”

By this point, Jesus and I had been dating for seven years, and my friends
kept saying things like “So when is Jesus going to pop the question?” and
“Maybe Jesus would like you better if you were crippled” and “I bet Yimmel
the Moabite is starting to look pretty good right now, even with the
chronic perspiration.” At last, I got up my courage and I told Jesus, “You
can either become a divine beacon of light for the entire world or you can
marry me and start thinking about moving out of your parents’ manger.” For
a second, Jesus looked dejected, but then he glowed even brighter and he
took my hand and declared, “We can have it all! I want you to become my
wife!” Which made me even bolder, and I asked, “But what about Mary
Magdalene?” And Jesus said, “That was the old me.”

We were married in a simple, private ceremony in the desert, by a rabbi and
someone whom Jesus called a Baptist minister. Right before the vows, the
rabbi whispered to me, “Think about what you’re doing. Your children will
be half Christian.” Which was when the minister whispered, “So what?
College isn’t for everyone.”

But at our reception, at a lovely oasis, Jesus won over my family
completely, when he healed my cousin Barry of Galilee, who’d been wracked
with boils his entire life, although even after Barry was instantly cured
my Aunt Ruth commented, “He also has lice.”

For the next few years, I accompanied Jesus as he travelled from village to
village, spreading the word of God to all who would listen. I’d tell
myself, “Let him get it out of his system.” Everything came to a head one
night at a dinner party at a local inn. All of the apostles had gathered,
and I was trying out a new recipe for unleavened cupcakes. “These are
delicious,” Judas said, which made me suspicious, because, frankly, have
you ever tasted an unleavened cupcake? Then Jesus announced that someone at
the party would betray him, and I stood right behind Judas and I kept
pointing and mouthing the words “It’s him! Wake up!” But Jesus told me
privately that he suspected Luke, and, when I asked him why, Jesus said,
“Because when I told him about my turn-the-other-cheek idea Luke said, ‘But
wouldn’t it be stronger if you said, “Turn the other cheek, bitch?” ’ ”

Then, of course, everything went to pieces and terrible things happened,
and when I was finally allowed to visit Jesus in prison I begged him to
abandon his beliefs and to save his own life. But he wouldn’t do it,
because that’s not who he was. “I love you so much,” I told him, “but I
guess you always have to be right about everything.”

A few days after Jesus passed away, I was sitting in our hut, crying my
eyes out, when the door swung open and, bingo, there he was. Of course, my
first thought was, Hold on, maybe he had a twin brother. But then he kissed
me and said, “No, it’s really me, and I’m dead and I’m back, but only for
the day.” And I just felt so angry and hurt and confused about everything
that had happened that I pounded on his chest and I howled, “JESUS CHRIST,
WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?”

Then, after he left for good, I discovered that Mark and Matthew and the
rest of them had been jealous of my marriage, so I was erased from the
earliest Gospels, which were called Just Jesus, Bachelor Messiah, and
Duderonomy. And, as for that scrap of papyrus, it was actually one of
Jesus’ notecards, from his early days doing standup, as an opening act for
Little Esther and the Purim Posse, and Avram and Roy. The phrase “Jesus
said to them, ‘My wife . . .’ ” was the setup for a joke, which continued,
on the next card, “is so fat . . .,” and you can imagine the rest. ♦
  ILLUSTRATION: Istvan Banyai
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