To them, I am God from God. The Light of the World. The Liberator, Redeemer and High Priest. I am the Alpha and the Omega. The Son of Man, or so they say. They named me Lord but I am not their master. They named me Father, but I am not their father. They have given me many titles, but none of them sit well with me. I much prefer being called what my mother named me: Yeshua.

     I never had any faith. There was no need for it. Unlike my brothers and sisters, who had to be taught to love and believe in Him, I knew and loved Him always; He was there in the time before I existed and there the moment I saw with the eyes of man. When I walked the banks of the river, I sensed him near me, and when I slept beside my brothers, I felt him in my dreams. From his life I lived and from his breath I drew breath. I knew things normal men shouldn’t know, and I could do things that normal men weren’t supposed to be able to do. At first, it was terrifying.

     My mother was often frightened, but not of normal things like illness or famine. She feared the mothers, who forbade their children to play with me. She feared the fathers, who would ask me to perform miracles. Above all, she feared the day He would call for me. Of course, like the good servant she was, she would obey her Master, and deliver me to Him without lament, but I knew it would be difficult for her. It would be her most difficult task since my birth.

     I scarcely remember the early years. Despite my mother’s fear and my divinity, my childhood was forgettable. My mother protected me, my father taught me his trade and my siblings helped me along when it was necessary, allowing me to pass easily into adulthood. And, although much has been made of my travels and temptations, that era was a long time ago, and isn’t as important today as it was in a time when people needed to see unexplainable displays and grand spectacles in order to believe. To be honest, I don’t remember my own crucifixion. The archangel Gabriel told me I cried out to Him as it happened. Like I said, I don’t remember.

     My death itself was painful. He knew this would happen, but I did not. At the moment of death, I felt myself slip into darkness. A horrible emptiness crept into my belly, festering there, and for three days, I was in shadows, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to scream. I was separated from Him and from myself. I had agreed to accept the sin of man, and for this, I was banished to Hell. For three days, I suffered.

          On the third day, He let me go. I went immediately to my Mary Magdalene, who often visited my tomb. She had been weeping, and didn’t recognize me until after I said her name. She wanted to touch me, but I told her not to; I was still filthy with the sin of man. We went to meet my mother and together, we traveled to the disciples.  

     My ascension to Heaven was tricky. I can’t explain it other than to say it was less painful than dying. I shed the sin, and joined Him on His throne, where the Angel of the Lord took me into his arms. The Morning Star, my brother Lucifer, was there as well. There was no need to speak. We had an agreement: he would be still and say nothing of the secrets I shared with him when I was a child, and I would be still and say nothing of the sadness I felt that he was no longer a bringer of light. The Father preferred it this way, and so did we.

     So there it is. The birth, life, death and ascension of your Yeshua. It’s not as interesting as the Passion, but it will suffice.

     And still, I know that it will not. It has never been enough to lay the facts bare. Man is curious and vengeful, like Him in every way. Man is faithful and intuitive like my beloved Judas, who carried the burden of my death to Hell, and whose name is a curse upon Man. Man is prideful like the Morning Star. Frightened and angry, like the child Yeshua first learning of his divine purpose.

     It will never be enough to just live. I love them and yet they show me no kindness. I bless them despite the evil they do to one another, and I forgive them although they remain undeserving of pardon. I feel the spirit of Him within me, but I am not Him. I am tired and yet I live on, an everlasting testament of His will.

     One day, I will flee with Lucifer to the iciest part of Hell, and together we will watch over His children until it is time for me to return.