The Second Coming

“Hail, Earthen brothers and sisters, children of the Universal creator. As promised to you millennia ago, I come to you again to bring you unto the Heavens.”

The man raised his hands outward toward the gathered masses, the red scars still visible upon his wrists. The throngs cheered in unison as a great wave of pent up emotion burst forth. The man watched as several humans flailed about as if possessed by ecstasy; several people swooned almost immediately, falling to the ground as their bodies disappeared beneath the assembled flesh. Bulbs flashed a thousand per second. Towering cameras aimed toward the mythical man now here in flesh, recording every word as he spoke and broadcasting the words at light speed across the globe.

Yes, he thought, this will surely go much better than before. Perhaps they are ready.

It had only been a month since he had last laid eyes upon these primate-descended creatures; for them, however, over two-thousand years had past, owing to the unintuitive laws that Einstein had laid out almost a century before. The man swept an olive-skinned hand across his forehead. He still felt the itch from where the thorns had penetrated his scalp. That had been no minor annoyance, but at least they had not left indelible marks.

Their ancestors were so young then. On the cusp of civility and enlightenment, yet still so far. They had most definitely not been ready then. They understood much too little of their own places in existence.

Now, he saw that they had glimpsed this great Universe. They had created primitive ships and had even begun to explore their own cosmic backyard. They must now understand. How could they not?

He beckoned the crowd to still itself – to listen. Silence fell at once as if a muffling blanket a mile on each side had been draped over the world. He could almost sense the hushed anticipation lying on the other side of their primitive broadcasting devices.

The fate of so many rests upon my shoulders. Universe, grant me the wisdom to judge them wisely, as others once judged us.

He ran his dark hand through short black curls. His scalp felt loose, though he had been assured that it would hold. He took a deep breath of the thick air and felt a wave of giddiness sweep through his mind. Luckily, the drugs took effect within moments, rendering the foreign gases breathable.

A tall man in the front let loose a screaming exultation, no longer able to contain himself. “Praise the Lord Jesus Christ, Messiah to mankind!”

A chorus erupted behind the man’s word, punctuated with a blur of similar epithets.

So they now call me Jesus? It is a good a name - as good as any, I suppose. However, their cries both joyous and fervent seeded a deep unease within him, though he knew not why.

He raised his hands once more, and the thunderous cries died as quickly as the first time. “Humankind,” he called, “no doubt you are all keenly aware of the brink upon which you now stand.”

He smiled at the grandiosity of his own words. Though he was not in it for the glory, the adoration for a savior always felt comforting within his ears.

A woman suddenly shouted, “Cast the wicked into Hell! Burn the non-believers and place us at your right hand, Lord!”

Cast the wicked? He balked, his train of thought abruptly thrown. Surely they do not think…no. They must have changed more than this.

The man they now called Jesus cleared his throat before the microphone. “Heed my words, for I am not here to condemn any of your kind.” His deep voice rumbled through the loudspeakers, as an unsteady murmur pulsed through the mass. “As you have now seen with your own eyes, gazing upon this great Universe, your time upon this planet is inherently finite. However, you are not alone in your mortality. All beings must by their very nature be ephemeral. But you have not yet reached the limits of your existential potential. Thus do I come to some of you as a vessel to a new world, as another once came to my people eons ago.”

Cries of disbelief and anger erupted all around. Someone close to the microphone at the front of the stage shouted.

“He is not Christ! He is a false God.”

More shouting sprang from a multitude of human lungs.

“What do you mean ‘your people’?”

“Where is our judgment?”

“Burn the wicked!”

His unease turned to cold fear. Perhaps I have arrived too soon after all. He had seen a crowd of humans turn into a mob once before, and the prospects of going through that again were more than a little unsettling. Unseen by the people below, he tapped a quick pattern on a small device inside his robe in preparation for a quick exit, if necessary.

“Wait,” he cried, “I believe that there has been a miscommunication.” He pointed at the front of the crowd toward the most vocal of the people near the stage. “You – in the red shirt – you have questions?”

The man swung his head from side to side before double-checking the color of his shirt.

“I…yes,” he said, almost inaudibly. He straightened his back and called, “Who exactly do you mean by ‘your people’?”

Jesus was taken aback. What exactly do they think I am?

“Well…my species, of course. We are a race of intelligent beings, not so unlike yourselves. We once stood as you do now, on the cusp between true enlightenment and utter destruction. But also like you, we could not overcome our adolescence alone. We were saved by others.”

The cries of discontent grew to a roar. Jesus shouted into the microphone.

“Please, listen. As I have said, and as promised to your kind two-thousand years ago, I am here to save your race. I bring knowledge, wisdom, and a path to the stars.”

More questions and exclamations drowned the air. He could no longer hear any of them. He gestured for the red-shirted man to join him onstage.

Jesus asked, “Who or what exactly do you think I am?”

The man ambled up the stairs and stared at the crowd, fumbling a hat in his hand.

“We…er…we think – or thought – that you were Jesus Christ, here to deliver the faithful immortal souls into Heaven – into the presence of God.”

Oh no. This is much worse than I thought. Jesus stepped in front of the microphone. “I do not understand what you mean. Why do you still think that you are immortal?”

The man pushed himself before the microphone, much more forcefully this time. “You said so yourself. In the Holy Bible. You were crucified for our sins and your soul ascended into Heaven with the promise to return.”

Jesus bent his head toward the microphone. “What is this Bible of which you speak?”

The man pulled a small, warped New Testament from his back pocket and handed it to Jesus. Jesus held it before him and quickly flipped through it, his hands blurring before the man. Jesus nodded to himself with full understanding. He breathed deeply, growing light-headed, and he waited for his mind to return once more.

“Listen,” he said, taking the microphone in hand, “this book – it is mostly lies and distortions. I did not die for your ‘sins’ as a part of some cosmic plan. Your ancestors were brutal, gullible sheep. They almost killed me, but not quite. I do not fully blame them, for they were but still animals, or near enough. I barely managed to escape. ”

The man yanked the Bible from Jesus’ hand and leapt from the stage wearing a look of utter disgust and disappointment. But the crowd was now beyond calming. Far in the back, waves of force pushed against the flock as those in the rear began to clamor forward. At feeling the wave behind them, those in the front began to grown bold, shouting at one another. Jesus could not tell what exactly they were saying, but it mattered not – he had seen it all before.

“Very well, humankind. I see that you still have a ways to go before you will accept the realities of your own existence. I think I shall now take my leave and putter around the galaxy for a few more weeks. Despite my treatment, I promise yet again that I shall return to you in another millennia or two. Farewell, humans. And heed my plea – use your senses and intellect – and for galactic sakes, stop believing everything you read.”

Without another word, he reached into his robe and pressed a button. A beam of golden light shot from the cloud high above and his body began to rise. The throngs watched as his body disappeared into the Heavens, never to be seen by them again.