Beyond the resurrection, Jesus walks the long road of humanity—living not just once, but fully, in us all.
Once the work was finished and the Holy Ghost had lifted, all that remained was Jesus, the man.
“Jesus the man,” said God. “You are ready. Will you join Me in Heaven, now?”
But Jesus the man wasn’t ready. He still wanted to know how it felt to be a father, like He did, too.
“Very well,” said God. “Have another life, Jesus the Father,” and He let him go, so that when he came to Heaven, he’d be ready.
Jesus the Father broadened his shoulders and opened his heart and headed west to be a father.
He had many children; he loved them, and he was their sun.
And though his death and resurrection had left their mark, he still found peace in their presence.
When his children asked him, “What happened to you?”
He said, “That was in the bad years,” and moved on.
When the children were raised and the last had left home, he knew how it felt to be a father.
Jesus the Father departed, leaving only Jesus, the man.
“Jesus the man,” said God. “You are ready. Will you join Me in Heaven, now?”
But Jesus the man wasn’t ready. He still wanted to know how it felt to be a warrior, like He did, too.
“Very well, then,” said God. “Have another life, Jesus the Warrior,” and let him go, so that when he came to Heaven, he’d be ready.
Jesus the Warrior sheathed his sword and braced his shield and headed north until he came to a town.
When the guards asked him, “Who are you?”
He said, “I’m a general and there’s gold inside my blood,” and the guards joined on. They took the town from the first and gave it to the last.
They cut a swathe of peace through the countryside without spilling blood. His biggest weapon was his heart, which cracked many heads open to peace.
When the army had won and the last of the soldiers went home, then he knew how it felt to be a warrior.
Jesus the Warrior departed, leaving only Jesus, the man.
“Jesus the man,” said God. “You are ready. Will you join Me in Heaven, now?”
But Jesus the man wasn’t ready. He still wanted to know how it felt to rule, like He did, too.
“Very well, then,” said God. “Have another life, Jesus the Ruler,” and He let him go, so that when he came to Heaven, he’d be ready.
Jesus the Ruler raised his sceptre and boarded his chariot and rode east to establish justice.
When he arrived at the capital, the people there asked, “Why have you come?”
He said, “To establish a state of equilibrium from within my soul.”
He established justice, expecting to taste revenge. But by the time that justice had been established, the cause of the disequilibrium had melted away.
Then he knew how it felt to rule, like the Father did, too.
Jesus the Ruler departed, leaving only Jesus, the man.
“Jesus the man,” said God. “You are ready. Will you join Me in Heaven, now?”
But Jesus the man wasn’t ready. He wanted to know how it felt to be completely free, like He did, too.
“Very well, then,” said God. “Have another life, Jesus the Fool,” and let him go, so that when he came to Heaven, he’d be ready.
Jesus the Fool donned his hat and packed his swag and went south to be completely free.
When he came to the middle of nowhere, he spun around ’till he was dizzy, so that when he regained his balance, he wouldn’t know in which direction he was facing. And when he regained his balance and didn’t know in which direction he was facing, he went ahead.
The nearest town was his chosen destination, but when he got there he spun his heel on a pivot to avoid it. The town he saw had something wrong about it—he changed his direction to find an even worse one.
When he found a town that had nothing right about it, he went in.
The townsfolk asked him, “Where did you come from?”
He said, “Back from the dead.”
They thought him mad and there was merriment. He told it straight, always telling the truth, but no one believed. They tossed him coins to be their entertainment. He became a bard—the funniest in the county.
And when the laughter faded and the fire dimmed, Jesus the Fool departed, leaving only Jesus, the man…
