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Jesus, Mary and Josephina(continued) One recent Sunday I was sitting quietly in the Presbyterian Church I attend (unlike the squirming, antsy 3-year-old sitting behind me) when I was struck by what I can only describe as "the light." Not the "light at the end of the tunnel" or the light people see when they've had a near-death experience. This was more like a Joan of Arc moment, without the horse or bad haircut. I can only describe it was a light that illuminates absolute truth. Recently, I'd attempted meditation as both a stress reliever and a positive mantra, toward my goal of radiant living. Church seemed the perfect place to get in at least 15 minutes of "no thought." As I stare at the beautiful stained-glass window high above the altar, my mind drifts as Dr. Walton gives his weekly sermon, and I enter another dimension. Possibly it was the strong, black coffee talking or the hang over from copious amounts of red wine the night before, but a very clear message appears to me. It's a message in the form of a Jenny Holzer LED projection that scrolls,
"Why the fuck would you want to be in heaven with those people?" "What people?" I calmly ask, as I've nearly reached my state of bliss. "Any fanatic of any religious faith who believes their God to be the one true God," came the text reply. And then the digital-like message changed into a voice, one with a gender-neutral British accent! This is trippy. I wonder if an acid flashback can occur twenty-five years later? "How is it conceivable, through thousands of years, religious affiliations, faiths and beliefs, that any one person's God is the one true God?" Why ask me? Ask Pat Robertson… "Was your religion carved out of the anger of a Martin Luther? A Joseph Smith who desired numerous wives? L. Ron Hubbard's absurd and outlandish commercial enterprise to serve celebrities?" it demands. This makes me think about Tom Cruise and how people think he's gay; but I don't think he's gay, more neuter or asexual... but the British voice cuts me off. "Hey, Missy, pay attention!" OK, Jesus! No one's called me Missy since high school. Maybe I should open one eye and see if this British voice is talking to everyone in the congregation. Nope, just me. "Are you counting down to Armageddon? Waiting for the Rapture, as Christ descends from Heaven, summoning all true believers, leaving behind the unbelievers, including the Jews who don't convert? And which one are you? Are you fighting the Antichrist or engaged in the ultimate death match between Christians and Muslims? Were you disappointed when the New Years Eve ball — rather than Jesus Christ — dropped in 2000?" Whoa, this is heavy stuff. This voice seems really smart, but the British can read a menu and make it sound like the word of God. I'm starting to lose my "high"; this voice is a real buzz kill. Damn, here it goes again! "End dates have come and gone as early as first century Gnostic predictions, the 1792 Shakers, Baptist preacher William Miller's very specific October 22, 1844, in upstate New York, and the prodigious Jehovah's Witnesses: 1914-15-18-20-25-41-75 and 94" (whew, I thought, they're not very good at predicting). "No one drank Kool-Aid after Jim Jones People's Temple doomsday debacle. "Who will save your soul if you're an atheist or agnostic," it roars, really kicking into high gear. I hate to interrupt the British voice's train of thought, but I'm really curious about something, so I butt in. "Um, excuse me, but, why are you a gender-neutral British voice,
and are you a higher being, too? Can you manifest yourself in human
form?" "Petty questions" the voice says dismissively. I feel kind of stupid, but it answers me anyway. "I'm speaking to you in a British accent, because you like it. It could be anything: Indian, Portuguese, Southern. I do Braille as well. Different strokes for different folks." Wow, that's impressive.
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