they imagine, because — ---- —-----------
JESUS AND SATAN GO JOGGING IN THE DESERT
By Simon R. Green
SO, I CAME UP out of Hell, and I am here to tell you that after the Pit and the sulphur and the screams of the damned, the desert made a really nice change. Like a breath of fresh air. Don’t ask me which desert; the Holy Land was lousy with unwanted and uncared-for beachless property in those days. Just sand and rocks for as far as the eye could see, with a few lizards thrown in here and there, to break up the monotony. I allowed myself a little time out, to enjoy the peace and quiet; and then I went looking for Jesus.
He wasn’t hard to find. Anyone else would have been sheltering in the shade, away from the fierce heat of the sun. Only the Son of God would be just ambling along, caught between the heat and a hard place, just because God told him to. I followed him for a while, careful to maintain a respectful distance, wondering how best to break the ice; so to speak. He really didn’t look good. Forty days and forty nights fasting in the desert had darkened his skin, made a mess of his hair, blackened his lips, and stripped all the fat off him. Still, he strode along easily enough, back straight and head held high. He stopped suddenly.
“Well, Satan? Are you going to follow me all day, or shall we get on with it?”
He looked back at me, grinning as he saw he’d caught me off guard. Don’t ask me how he knew I was there. I nodded quickly and hurried to catch up. His face was all skin and bone, but the smile on his cracked lips was real enough, and his eyes were full of a quiet mischief. Don’t let anyone tell you the Son of God didn’t have a sense of humour. We stood for a while and looked each other over. It had been a long time …
“So,” Jesus said finally. “Satan; look at you! All dressed in white, and shining like a star!”
“Well,” I said. “I always was the most beautiful. I like what you’ve done with the loincloth. Really stresses the humility.”
“How is it that you’re out of Hell?” said Jesus. Not accusing, you’ll note, just genuinely interested.
“I’m allowed out, now and again,” I said. “When He’s got a point He wants to make. But He always keeps me on a tight leash. Sometimes I think He only lets me out so Hell will seem that much worse, when I have to go back.”
“No,” said Jesus. “That’s not how He works. Our Father is many things, but He’s not petty.”
I shrugged. “You know Him better than I do, these days. Anyway, I’ve been called up here to tempt you. To test your strength of will, for what’s to come.”
Jesus gave me a hard look. “Forty days and forty nights, boiling by day and freezing by night, and only bloody lizards for company; and that’s not enough of a test of willpower?”
I shrugged again. “Don’t look at me. I don’t make the rules. Our Father moves in mysterious ways.”
Jesus sniffed loudly. “Aren’t you supposed to be out and about, tempting mankind into sin?”
“Don’t you believe it,” I said. “They don’t need me. Most men sin like they breathe. Some of them actually get up early, just so they can fit in more sins before the end of the day. I don’t have to tempt men into falling; I have to beat them off with a stick at the Gates of Hell, just to get them to form an orderly queue.”
“Boasting again,” said Jesus. “You are a proud and arrogant creature, and the Truth is not in you. But you do tell a good tale.”
“All right, maybe I do indulge in a little tempting, now and again,” I said. “Mostly for the ones too dumb to know a good opportunity when they see one. But … Just look at the world He gave them! A paradise, a beautiful land under a magnificent sky, food and water ready to hand; all right, not here, but I think He threw in the deserts just so they’d appreciate the rest of it.”
“Even the desert is beautiful,” said Jesus. And even after forty days and nights of suffering, he could still say that, and mean it. You could tell. “It’s calm here,” he said. “Serene, peaceful, untroubled. Everything in its place. There is beauty here, for those with the eyes to see it.”
“You’re just glad to get away from all the noise,” I said knowingly. “All the voices, all the crowds and their demands, all the pressure … Go on; admit it!”
“All right, I admit it,” he said easily. “I’m only human … some of the time. I came to this world to spread my teachings, not amuse the crowds with miracles. But you have to get their attention first …”
“I have to ask,” I said. “Why do you bother? All they ever do is whine and squabble and fight over things they could just as easily share. They don’t need me … pathetic bunch of losers. I do love to see them fall; because every failed life and lost soul is just another proof that I was right about them, all along.”
Jesus looked at me sadly. “All this time, and you still don’t get it. All right; let’s get on with the temptations. What are you going to offer me first? Riches? Power? A nice new loincloth? I have all I need, and all I want.”
“I’m here to show you all the things you could have, and all the things you could be,” I said as earnestly as I knew how. “The things you’re throwing away because your vision’s so narrow.”
He was already shaking his head. “You’re talking about earthly things. Why are you doing this, Satan? You must know you won’t succeed?”
“Hey,” I said. “It’s the job. And never say never. I have to try … to make you see the light.”
“Why?” said Jesus. “So that if I fall … you won’t feel so alone?”
“Look at you,” I said, honestly angry for a moment. “You’re a mess. You could be King of the Jews, King of the World; and here you are, wandering around in the backside of nowhere, burned and blackened, and stinking so bad even the lizards won’t come anywhere near you. You’re better than this. You deserve better than this! Come on; after forty days and nights of fasting, your stomach must think your throat’s been cut. Turn some of these stones into loaves of bread and take the edge off, so we can talk properly. Enough is enough.”
“Man shall not live by bread alone,” said Jesus, “but by every word God utters. Faith will restore you, long after bread is gone.”
“Is this another of those bloody parables?” I said suspiciously.
He sighed. “I can’t help feeling one of us is missing the point here.”
I looked out across the desert. Blank and empty, hard and unyielding. “Why did you agree to come out into this awful place? You couldn’t have fasted at home?”
“Too many interruptions,” he said. “Too many distractions. Too many people wanting this and needing that. I’m out here to think, to meditate, to understand where I’m going, and why.”
I snapped my fingers, and just like that we were transported to the Holy City. Don’t ask which one; believe me when I tell you none of the cities were much to talk about, back then. I appeared both of us right at the top of the pinnacle of the temple. A long way up. And down. We both clung tightly to the pinnacle, with both hands. There was a strong wind blowing. Jesus glared at me.
“What are we doing here? How am I supposed to meditate all the way up here? Take me back to the desert!”
“Tempting first,” I said. “You want people to look up to you, don’t you? You said yourself; you have to do the miracles, to get their attention. So; throw yourself down from here. All the way down … and God will send His
