He Who Returned E-Book

Martin Fieber

• Herausgeber: AMRA Verlag
• Kategorie: Religion und Spiritualität
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2012

Seitenzahl: 1390

Beschreibung

The novel event of the year! Michael is a modern young man without any attachment to the Christian religion. But one day he sets off to visit the excavation site of Khirbet Qumran - a haunting dream has suggested that he travel there. At his destination he finds a suitcase made of a metal that does not exist on earth. This suitcase contains film footage showing the life of an intimate friendship, a friendship of the young writer Joshua with the man Jesus. While watching the film, Michael realizes more and more that he has more in common with the man Jesus Christ than he ever thought possible. This historical novel about Jesus Christ and his connection to the great holy family of the Santinians is embedded in a heartfelt love story full of passion. His groundbreaking revelations reveal the unique charism of the biblical and yet so timelessly alive person of Jesus. The book has the potential to become a classic of spiritual literature. Exciting and down to earth. Perhaps you too will be left speechless at the end and wonder whether it might not have happened in exactly the same way ... "The life's work of the author, on which he researched and wrote for over nine years. Every part of the plot is well-founded and conscientiously researched - as incredible as it may seem at first glance." "A wonderful book!" - Elias The novel is also available in German as a book and as an eBook.

Leseprobe

Martin Fieber

He Who Returned

Bergkristall Verlag GmbH

Krumme Weide 30, 32108 Bad Salzuflen

Tel. 05222 – 923 451

Fax 05222 – 923 452

[email protected]

www.bergkristall-verlag.de

1. Auflage 2012

Umschlagabbildung: Masterfile Deutschland GmbH, Düsseldorf

Alle Rechte vorbehalten. Das Werk darf – auch teilweise – nur mit Genehmigung des Verlages wiedergegeben werden.

For Margarethe,

Introduction

“Jesus didn’t even really ever live“, an acquaintance recently said to me. I was baffled.

“Where do you get that idea?”, I asked him.

“He was just a good marketing instrument of the Church“, was his immediate reply.

This reply shocked me. Yes, many people doubt whether Jesus ever lived, and just as many have no idea what to do with the person of Jesus. Even I felt the same way until a couple of years ago, although I had always viewed Jesus as a historical personality and had to believe in his teachings. But he was simply too far away for me and my life. He was not tangible, a kind of Superman who could walk on water and turn water into wine. This huge distance between him and my normal life caused me to be afraid, and I felt small and unworthy. I still had so many faults, while Jesus was even able to raise the dead! How could God love me in my miserable condition? For years such thoughts and conflicts of conscience tortured me.

But this suffering also led to a source of motivation. A question arose in me: How strong must the personality of Jesus have been, how authentic must his teachings have been, that nearly 2000 years later around a billion people worldwide prayed to him?

But this too, was again problematic: people prayed to Jesus as a God. And this did not in any way help me to feel closer to Jesus. Just as one of my former, somewhat fanatically inclined neighbors had instructed me: “Martin, Jesus is God. And only if you accept him as your God will you ever have a chance at a window room in heaven.”

But for me Jesus was never God, though he obviously spoke of God and he always gave me the impression that he had a very good connection to God. So good, that he had special, often beyond human powers. But I did not know anything more than that about Jesus.

But how was Jesus as a person? There is hardly anything transmitted about him as a person. Who was Jesus really? How was he as a child? How did he feel? How did he live? And exactly for this reason, because I knew too little about the historical person Jesus, he fascinated me more and more with each year.

And one day, many years later, my wish came true: I wanted to truly understand Jesus. I wanted to understand his times, also the faith which is the foundation of today’s so-called Christianity. I wanted to describe the life of the human being Jesus, I wanted to get to know him better by recording his life from my point of view. I wanted to lose my fear and my pain. But I still was afraid that a miracle would have to occur for that to happen.

It took nine years until, from the idea of the novel and much research finally the printed work was completed. And the miracle happened: Christ the master became my pal, the high-flyer Jesus became my friend, the intangible hero became my friend, and Jesus became a normal human being. His vast soul now shows itself clearly to me.

May this novel bring you closer to the human being Jesus: Jesus, the most glorified and hated, in short the most misunderstood person in the history of humankind. A few connections and incidents may be unknown to you, perhaps even seem impossible or even ridiculous at first. But at the beginning of the twentieth century there also were not any computers, with whose help this book came to be.

May this novel bring you closer to the human being Jesus, in case he has not already won your heart with his naturalness. May this book also let the miracle happen in your heart, that closed doors may be opened in your life. May Jesus Christ also become your pal, friend and brother.

I wish you much joy in immersing yourself in a world which you certainly have not experienced like this before. God bless you and have a good time.

Your

Martin Fieber

In a few chapters of this book words occur which should not be chosen in your normal language use. However the times of old were very direct especially in the culture of the Greeks and people at times used vulgar expressions. I have already adjusted the language considerably, however wanted to maintain a certain authentic character.

The italic paragraphs at the end of the individual chapters express the thoughts that Jesus Christ entrusted to his diary.

Prologue

Between Khirbet Qumran and Jericho, sometime in the near future

It was hot. Even hell could not be hotter, he thought, shivering despite the heat. And it stormed, as if the world had had enough of humankind’s abuse and wanted to end. The beginning of the apocalypse could not be more abominable, he growled to himself. If he had stayed home, where he belonged, he would withdraw to the coolness of his apartment. But he was not at home, his skin told him, which had to deal with countless tiny stings of the sand which was flying about wildly all over the place. He was somewhere between the excavation site of Khirbet Qumran and Jericho and weakly gazed out onto the Dead Sea. Sweaty and tired his gaze sought out the cool freshness under him.

He was alone. His mouth dust dry. The only thing about him that still functioned was the carousel of thoughts which he for some time had not been able to stop. Like wild monkeys the countless thoughts sped about his confused mind. What in the world had driven him to travel to the West Bank at this time of year, to... yes, he truly had not been able to tell anyone this .. to look for records from one no less than Jesus himself? If only he had not had that strange dream a few months ago, then he would not be sweating like a dog in this desolate place now. No dream he had ever had before had remained as vivid in his memory. This sequence of images had a digital quality and each pixel shone in a color, the likes of which he had never seen. It was a color dream. Usually, if anything at all, he saw strange and nonsensical sequences in black and white. But this dream was beautiful. This dream illuminated...

Nonsense. He cursed this dream, for it had knocked over the thought construct which he had hitherto made about life. Even in his thoughts it was still embarrassing for him to think about this dream, for a figure had appeared to him that called itself Jesus. This figure had given him numbers and requested that he seek for personal writings of him.

The storm became even stronger, as if the spirits of the wind were mocking him. In the first weeks following that ominous night he still thought the dream was so ridiculous, that he did not even attempt to check the numbers, which turned out to be coordinates. But the figures stuck like chewing gum in side his head. The more he wanted to forget them, the more they stuck to his mind. The harder he tried to forget Jesus, the more the blue eyes of this dream apparition burned themselves into his memory.

He never wanted to care about such nonsense. Especially, since this nonsense had reached him in form of a dream. Already his father had told him ‘dreams are ten a penny.’ And besides ­– shouldn’t the dream figure have known that he, Michael, had very little interest in God or his son. This was even an understatement. Michael believed neither in God nor in Jesus Christ. Also not in the church nor, as had become fashionable recently, in the fat-bellied Buddha, who was appearing in more and more gardens in his neighborhood. He neither believed in eternal torments of hell nor in singing angels, nor in the possibility of reincarnation on earth, although it was not more logical to him, to only be born once rather than several times. He also simply had spent far too little time considering faith. He neither believed in a universal creative conscience, nor in a bearded father in heaven. And he did not believe in Jesus Christ. Not even now, even if his nose had just caught a salty whiff of the nearby Dead Sea.

But just this in the end convinced Michael, that he should look into that dream and those numbers a little more intensively. If a James Bond had appeared in his dream, passing along coordinates as he sat next to a blonde co-pilot in some futuristic vehicle, than he would have forgotten the dream quickly. But it had not been James Bond, but rather a Messiah.

And yes, after endless hours of critical inner dialogue with himself, he finally had figured out that those numbers were not dates, but rather coordinates. These numbers were supposed to communicate a specific place to him. And this place was somewhere in the West Bank, north of the modern day excavation site Khirbet and Qumran. How was he, a happily engaged twenty-eight year old industrial clerk, who had no clue about archaeology, supposed to search for hidden scrolls in the desert? Did this Jesus really think that he, Michael Jansen from Germany, could find anything that legions of archaeologists had missed?

It should only be a few more metres before he would have reached his goal. One more quick glance at the GPS, and he was there. The satellite supported navigation system showed him that he had arrived. Michael stopped and looked around. Nothing except red brown cliffs and boulders was to be seen. Behind him the hill chain of the Judaic hill country rose up and diagonally in front of him he had a view of the Dead Sea, the lowest point of surface in the world. A truly inhospitable place in his eyes. He did not like deserts, he did not like scraggy country. And he did not like storms that constantly blew sand into his eyes.

Not a soul far and wide. No prominence in a radius of fifty meters. Just a large rock directly in front of him. And on first glance the rock did not look like it could hide a secret. But the data on the GPS left no room for doubt. This rock was the place that he had sought. Michael carefully walked around it, but it did not seem suitable, too normal to serve as hiding place of possibly important writings. A lot of debris lay all about it, and there was no clearly visible indication of an entrance.

Suddenly, as if an old memory had seized him, he began, with hands accustomed more to a computer keyboard, to remove first smaller, then larger pieces of rock. And lo and behold, he discovered a texture in the rock which encouraged him to continue removing rubble.

At first gingerly, then faster and faster. Patience was truly not his forte. However eventually the certainty dawned in him that he would find something. A narrow horizontal cleft emerged above the ground, into which he could barely squeeze himself. Now he even had to work hard in this heat. The thought of that alone was enough to cause his forehead to break into a sweat.

He looked at the rock again thoroughly. Directly above the possible entrance many holes were visible, which birds perhaps had left there over a long period of time. There was still a lot of rubble lying about, and one could make out, that the crevice under the rock must have once been much smaller. No grown up person could have crawled in here.

Michael hesitated. Should he really continue looking? How should this Jesus ever have come this way? So far away from any road?

“You and I, we are here now”, Michael admonished the lazy bum in himself. “You would prefer to just have your peace now, and I would prefer to be sitting in an ice-cafe enjoying spaghetti-ice-cream with Susanne. However, unfortunately you do not have your peace and quiet and I am not sitting next to my girl. So pull yourself together. We are here and I am going to continue digging.” He shook his head once he had noticed that he was already beginning to talk to himself. No surprise, considering the heat.

Michael unpacked his shovel, strapped his little headlamp on and began to enlarge the entrance. Then he knocked against the ceiling of the rock. Tack, tack, tack. Nothing unusual. Further right. Tack, tack , tack. Also nothing. Further back. Tack, tack, tack. Maybe he needed to check the floor. It took a while, until he had turned around in the narrow crevice. Tock, tock, tock. Nothing. Tock, tock, tock. Also nothing. Maybe further back. Tock, tock, tong. What was that? Had it really just sounded like there was a cave beneath him? It sounded hollow and somehow wooden. Was this cave only covered up by boards? He dug about in the floor with his shovel and was just trying to support himself when the floor gave way. He almost would have fallen into a little cave that now appeared underneath him. Stones rolled into the depths. Klong, klong, klong, pling. Now what was that? Something in roughly one metre depth sounded different than the rock. It sounded, he could not believe it, somehow... metallic.

Now a sense of adventure overcame him. Michael let himself down into the little cave and first shovelled rubble to one side, until he actually did spy metal underneath the sand. A kind of aluminum suitcase lay there, which however was larger than the hole through which he had entered the cave. A despairing grunt escaped his lips.

There was nothing left for him to do than to increase the size of the entrance. That might take time. Fortunately t was a little cooler underneath the large rock. After about an hour of hard work he had brought the suitcase into the light of day. It was locked and also did not show any way of being opened, but he wanted to look into that later. “First, to get away from here” he said to himself. “At last you have found it again” he heard a voice coming from somewhere.

Michael looked around. No one. No human being far and wide.

What is that supposed to mean, I have found them again?” he asked into the storm which was still raging all about. He shook his head as he noticed that he was speaking with himself again. “You have found them again.” The voice spoke a second time. It seemed as if the voice came from somewhere inside him.

Did he now have to worry about truly going crazy? Ah well, nothing was crazier than being sent here by Jesus through a dream anyway.

Michael packed away his tools and considered the suitcase. Good thing that is was a fairly inconspicuous suitcase, which meant that he would be able to carry it fairly easily and it would not draw attention when he reached densely populated Jericho. The suitcase was lighter than it looked. After a brief pause in the shade of the rock and a good swig of water Michael started on his way back. It was a long road – and quite strenuous with the suitcase. Late in the evening he finally arrived in his run-down but cozy hotel in New-Jericho.

In his hotel room he threw the backpack and the suitcase unto his bed and first of all took a long shower. After that he settled down in front of the suitcase. But how was he was he supposed to open it? It really was quite light, much lighter than aluminium and looked much sturdier. No lock was visible, not even an edge at which he could have tried leverage with a screwdriver or such. Only the handle was visible. He pressed against the suitcase from every side, shook it, but nothing happened. How was he supposed to open it? Frustrated and downcast he let his head drop onto the surface of the suitcase. He quickly lifted his head in surprise, for an electronic beep sounded and the suitcase opened itself as if my magic and as quietly as the CD-player in his office.

Michael grew pale. Several papyrus scrolls, a robe, a wooden cross – it smelled like olive wood – a couple of sandals and a cup, which had probably served as a drinking vessel for wine. Underneath it all there were three parchment scrolls. Michael shook his head in disbelief. What had he found here? The Holy Grail? Papyrus scrolls? What was so important and interesting about these scrolls, that he had had that dream?

Gingerly Michael took all of the items out of the suitcase and placed them next to himself on the bed.

The papyrus scrolls were numbered. There was one very large one, and several smaller ones. Truly incredible. And they felt like they had been treated somehow, as if they had been preserved. He sorted the papyrus scrolls and opened the ties that bound them. It was amazing. They were truly old. His feeling told them they could not be fakes. Somehow the writing seemed familiar to him. Only now he recognized that they were written in Greek. Greek, not Aramaic or Hebrew, which he would have been able to recognize, but not read. He ensured himself: all of the scrolls had been written in Greek, also the beautiful parchment scrolls. However the rewriting on the parchment scrolls differed considerably from the other numbered scrolls. Also the parchment scrolls seemed to have been preserved. Amazing, he thought.

As he held the last of the parchment scrolls in his hands and wanted to put it down on the bed, he noticed a thin capsule lying in the floor of the suitcase. A capsule which, like the suitcase itself, consisted of very thin metal. He opened it and noticed, that he could crunch the metal like a piece of paper, yet it returned to its original form. Fascinating, Michael thought. But what really took his breath away were the DVDs which were inside the capsule. Exactly three of them. How in the world did these DVDs get inside of this suitcase and how did the suitcase get into the cave underneath the large rock?

He was not able to do anything with the scrolls right now. But fortunately Michael had brought along his laptop. Actually he had wanted to get some work done on the plane. Much to the displeasure of his wife, who always complained that he worked too much. The company could also survive without him for a while, she always said. He almost would have given in and left his laptop at home, but a feeling inside him had told him to take it anyway. Now he knew why.

Michael was excited. He could not explain it himself. It looked like the DVDs should fit. He hastily turned on his laptop and waited till it had started and then placed the first DVD into the drive. Although the technology seemed to come from the future, the DVD worked. He was given several options. Pushing aside his doubts, he started with the first point on the menu, the introduction. He pressed play.

A very handsome man appeared on his screen. However he could have also passed as a woman with his gentle and yet striking facial features. His hair was shoulder-length black, with silver streaks, which however did not make him look old, but rather lent him an august and noble aura. His eyes were gold-colored and radiated harmonic warmth. He had a royal blue gown on, which reached from his neck to his feet, leaving only his golden shoes and his hands visible. An amulet on his breast displayed an eight-pointed star within a spiral. The skin of the man was of a bronze hue. The man smiled, and it seemed as if his whole body laughed. It seemed secondary that he was standing in a large futuristic room with many screens and countless small lights – the room reminded him vaguely of the star ship Enterprise – for the man outshone everything else. A joyous energy took hold of Michael as he saw the man standing there. The camera zoomed in closer toward the man, till only his face was visible. No wrinkle, no blemish, no stubble was visible, only pure shining bronze skin.

“My name is Tai Shiin”, the man began to say in German. His voice was both soft and so energetic, that Michael’s whole body vibrated. “I am a Santinian. We Santinians are at home in the solar system Alpha Centauri and have been taking care of your earth and its inhabitants for over 4000 years. So we have also been taking care of you. Please excuse my direct address, but we Santinians do not know any form of communication other than pure souls to soul communication.”

Astounded, Michael thought, this guy does not need to excuse himself. He was too amazed to even form a coherent thought. This Tai Shiin stood in a large round room, which had an elevated seat in the middle with screens and some holographic elements. This room was completely enveloped in windows, some of which were darkened.

“Before you immediately disregard my words as untrue, I have to tell you, that the following story the story of all stories, is not that which you call science-fiction. For there already are enough fantasy stories and fairy-tales on your Earth. Sadly, you are still lacking the true knowledge of natural laws. You humans are still lacking the knowledge of the true magic of the universe. You are still lacking the knowledge about other star-people that inhabit the endless universe and anti-universe.

Do you truly believe such children’s tales, for example that the star of Bethlehem was a comet which stood in the sky many nights and days and sometimes moved east and sometimes west? Do you truly believe that the prophet Jonas spent three days and nights in the belly of a whale? Not even the smallest child believes this nowadays until it is poisoned by the lies of your theological institutions and wrong historical traditions.

It is not my intention to unsettle you with my words, but they should jolt you into awareness and shed light on your hidden thoughts and feelings, so that a place can be made in you for that, which you are about to see. I want to bring light into your thoughts so that you can explain und decode many riddles of humankinds history by yourself with a little logic. After all, you managed to find these scrolls.” Tai Shiin paused.

Michael paused, feeling confused. He stopped the DVD, for what he needed now was some quiet in his mind. Tai Shiin had mentioned, that he had found the scrolls. If only Susanne were here, she would surely be able to explain everything with her unique farsightedness. And besides, the spiritual world was closer to her than him.

Michael had to smile. He had always been the one who had made fun of her and her esoteric books and what he called spiritual mumbo-jumbo. He had been the one who never took these things she was occupied with seriously. And now he had to admit to himself that he needed her help? Yes, it appeared quite so, for that, which he had experienced a few hours ago at the large rock and that which awaited him now clearly was part of her territory. But since Susanne simply was not here, he would have to manage this somehow himself. He turned the DVD back on.

Now you will see true events in moving pictures, which show original recordings of times past. And this story is about Jesus and Joshua, a friend of his. You knew both of them very well.” Tai Shiin laughed and Michael could hardly catch his breath. “Yes, I know it must sound incredible for you, but we are about 10,000 years ahead of you with our technology. The moving images of this film we recorded with the thousand of cameras which are installed in our space stations. With our technology we are able to read your newspaper although we are many kilometers above you. Various images were spliced together by our specialists and transferred to a medium which, though outdated for us, is familiar to you.

With the help of a telepathic mind-reading device we were also able to record events which from your perspective happened in the invisible realm and convert them into visible images – just as everything really happened back then. At the end of my story you will know what I mean by these words. After all, the whole truth of this friendship had to be told. The circle had to be completed here as well.” Tai Shiin indicated a now, leaving Michael even more confused than before.

Now he was even talking about a spiritual realm. Did he really mean that unknown kingdom, heaven, the dwelling of angels?

“Joshua, the friend of Jesus, was still able to move both his own writings, which he had recorded on papyrus until shortly before his death, as well as the scrolls and possessions of Jesus, into the safely protected hiding place which you have meanwhile become acquainted with. After that we Santinians dematerialized the writings and put them in the metal container – a strong and eternally durable suitcase made of a nearly weightless metal which does not exist on earth – and then re-materialized them underneath the rock, having preserved them with a substance which is yet unknown to humans. We added these memory disks, of which you are currently viewing the first. Normally we are not allowed to interfere in the human wheel of destiny, but in this case we were allowed to make an exception, since the teachings of Jesus were too important than that they should be allowed to become forgotten a second time. In this way Joshua’s life story and especially that of Jesus can live again and tell a wonderful story of friendship.” Tai Shiin paused briefly, as if he was pondering that which he had just said for a moment.

“You are already familiar with my name Tai Shiin. I already see noted on my screen that you will be living in Germany, which was Germania in former times. It seems nearly certainly anchored in your destiny. But do not be shocked. It is as it is and as it should be. Michael, I greet you from soul to soul.”

Michael was startled. How did this Tai Shiin know his name? Tai Shiin had even planned on him reacting in the way he did now, for without Michael stopping the DVD, Tai Shiin paused and only continued many minutes later, after most of his inner turbulence had subsided. Tai Shiin had rocked his world like a snow globe and now the snow was settling back on the ground, so that he had somewhat clearer vision again.

“One of my tasks back then was to conserve these records of Joshua and to secure the entrance of the hiding place, to be certain that the writings would only be able to be found many many years later. Exactly now. And, as you know, exactly you were supposed to find them, Michael. We Santinians have ensured this.” Tai Shiin smiled, as if he knew exactly how Michael was sitting on his bed and could not keep shaking his head in disbelief.

“Joshua had brought amphorae into safety underneath the rock long ago. Those amphorae had served their purpose after a while. They would not have lasted even a thousand years in that environment. Hence this metal suitcase. We Santinians already knew back then that this box should not be allowed to be found before the year 2000 of your calendar, for the ethics of humanity have left much to be desired up until now, but now, there is not much time left. Only now, in this moment as you are reading these lines, has the chance significantly increased that the content of the writings can fall on fertile ground among humans. That is why we earnestly bid you to publish this movie and these lines.” Tai Shiin’s expression became sadder, but still there was no wrinkle, no furrow in his brow, nothing disharmonic to be found in his face.

“The electronic age considerably eases the spread of these true recordings. After all these scrolls must not be allowed to disappear into some secret catacomb of the Vatican or in a safe of the C.I.A.. If you humans only knew, what truths are being withheld from you.”

Oh how right this Tai Shiin was! Michael sighed and growled into himself for a moment. Only now did it dawn on Michael that he held some very explosive material in his hands.

“Michael, you don’t have to be afraid”, Tai Shiin continued. “Everything will proceed as planned and nothing will happen to you, we Santinians will ensure that. But before we get to history and to stories, we are going to take a little trip through the universe to the beginning of eternity, because it is important that you understand the global implications, in order to grasp the truth in the film which then follows.”

In the next moments Michael found himself in a vast starscape. He loved the BBC productions on TV in which trips were taken through the universe and the birth and endings of galaxies and stars were shown. But the images which he was shown here were not to be compared to those. (In case you wish to get to know the comprehensive remarks of Tai Shiin you may read up on them at the end of the book.)

He felt himself transferred to the beginning of all time, as if he had personally experienced how God self-created. He saw how spiritual realms were born, and how later on the brightest spiritual beings then also let the first material worlds come into being. He could look into the atoms and recognized that atoms were made up on a minute scale like galaxies in a much larger scale. He saw the fall of the spirits, the moment, in which a world whose light was darkened began to exist next to the light, and he also recognized the first spirit, Jesus.

As he slowly ended his journey through the cosmos, and just before Tai Shiin reappeared on the screen, he heard him say: “This is supposed to explain to you, how vast the spirit of Jesus Christ is and how important his life on earth, which you are about to observe, was.”

“I know that this must all sound very incredible to you. The whole content of the box which you found shows the story of a friendship between Jesus Christ and a soul much younger in its development. This story took place exactly as the following recordings will show. After all they are original records which do not allow any room for doubt. This friendship has lasted even up into this day and grows stronger by the second. This narrative is supposed to show you that even Jesus, this first spirit of all, could, no, even had to be a normal person. Joshua, the friend of Jesus, shows the difficult path of a normal mortal and proves that it was possible and always will be possible to have and maintain a friendship with the soul Jesus Christ.

I will occasionally appear during the course of the story in order to describe the role of our star-people. The purpose of this is to elucidate the holy mission of the ‘great holy lineage’, as we Santinians were called by you humans thousands of years ago. Since the early days of earth’s history, up into the present we have been carrying out our divine service far away from our home planet, at the cost of great privations.” Tai Shiin paused briefly. “Or do you truly believe that Jonas was swallowed by a whale?”

Michael shook his head. “Would you like to know what really happened back then?” Michael barely breathed a “yes.” Then he noticed that he was still talking to himself, yet that Tai Shiin had anticipated his reply. “Back then, Jonas had received a mission from us Santinians, which he however refused to carry out. He fled across the sea in a boat. However he got caught in the anti-gravitation area of our spaceship. Naturally an angry storm broke loose. In the end Jonas was cast overboard by the crew of the ship. We Santinians made a rescue effort by turning off the anti-gravitation source of our spaceship and landing on the water. Due to its form and size it was taken to be a whale by the seamen. Jonas was taken into the spaceship and cared for by us for three days and nights until he his health had been fully restored. Quite simple. A logical explanation.”

But Tai Shiin was not finished yet with his remarks.

“Nowadays our activities are even more intensive than earlier, since the conditions on your planet demand our presence under all circumstances. Let me again mention that this is not a science fiction story but rather based on true, unmodified records. They are all original recordings made by us Santinians. The papyrus scrolls contain more detailed information regarding the film which you are about to see. But the scrolls of parchment are most important. At the end of the film you will know exactly what is to be done. I hope that the following moving images will lend you a more comprehensive view of the great soul Jesus than you were given in the past by the church or in school. I am Tai Shiin, space-commander of the near-earth space station Share.” After that the DVD changed to the menu option ‘Play History’.

Michael exhaled deeply. He was shocked and speechless. Not because this was about the person whom he had successfully avoided in his life hitherto, Jesus. No, now a kind of Mr. Spock had appeared and explained God and the creation of the universe to him. The idea of the movie “2001 – A Space Odyssey” that an extraterrestrial race had interfered in the events on earth had always fascinated him. But that was a fantasy; it was just a movie, even if a grand one.

Good, he had to admit that that which he had heard and seen so far from Tai Shiin was gigantic and logical enough, but he simply felt more comfortable among numbers, data, facts and normal business letters than in the realm of cosmic origins.

First of all he needed to grab a bit to eat. He was hungry. Should he sleep first and watch the movie in the morning after a good nights rest? His impatience and interest won out. No. He wanted to engage in an all-night viewing if need be. So he set out to the nearest grocery store, which he fortunately found right next to his hotel. He got all he needed there, for instance licorice pastilles for snacking in between. But before he returned to his room, he drank a strong coffee at the bar and enjoyed the hustle and bustle all about him there. He looked around. No secret service far and wide. No one took notice of him. Everyone was occupied with their daily joys and cares.

Eventually he returned to his room and stared at the light brown and green striped wallpaper for about half an hour. His thoughts still were jumping around like wild monkeys, they simply could not settle down. That is why he sat down on the bed of his fairly dark hotel room and put the laptop on his lap. The musty, faded curtains of his room were not a plus for his room, but he had other problems than that right now. And he had something much more interesting to consider and do.

After what seemed like endless moments in which he tapped the table or restlessly swung his left leg back and forth, he took heart and started the film. Although despite the closed windows there was wild honking and deafening traffic noise coming in from the street, he concentrated on the film.

A man roughly his age appeared on the screen. He had blonde hair and blue eyes, his skin was lighter than that of Tai Shiin, and he wore a violet robe with golden decorations which seemed oriental to him. This man too seemed timeless, and almost genderless. The man, or perhaps better the being, stood on a paradisiacal meadow of flowers.

“My name is Joshua, and I am currently in the spiritual realm. After all I lived in the time of Jesus and already, as you put it, died before my friend.” A new shockwave rolled over Michael. Just a moment ago he was having to get used to the idea that an extraterrestrial was speaking to him, and now it even was one who even happened to be dead. However Joshua truly looked nothing like a zombie. There was something that Michael simply could not grasp just at the moment.

“I was born in Nazareth, in a small village which was consider3ed to be the home of Jesus for a while, the Jesus who, many hundreds of years from now when you will be watching this film and reading these scrolls, will have become more well known than in my own time, which is roughly 30 years after the birth of our saviour Jesus. I was a good friend of his although our paths went their separate ways for quite a while. Back then I wrote down my life and now want to familiarize you with my own life and that of Jesus, as I experienced him, the way he really was. The Santinians have told me about my death on earth and that they have recorded the lives of Jesus and me via moving pictures. They also said that they now desire to make this story available to all of humanity via a certain person. What is still missing and what I will now catch you up on is an introduction to these true events.” Joshua paused briefly. “However what you should know...” Joshua laughed merrily and knowingly.

“What should I know?” Michael was still speaking to himself.

“You should know that, if the divine plan succeeds, then you, Michael are the person the Santinians have chosen. However you already know that. But what you do not know yet is: You are me, and I will be you.”

Michael pressed the pause button and gazed up from the laptop. He let his gaze sweep through the window over the roofs of Jericho. Now what was that supposed to mean? Why am I Joshua? What did he mean by that? What was the point of all of this? Michael was in turmoil. His soul was in commotion. Despite this great restlessness he took a big sip of tea and continued watching the film.

“I am placing all of my hopes in you, for the true events about Jesus are too important than that they might be allowed to be lost forever. Already in my lifetime I experienced how easily records were falsified and how recklessly many people dealt with the truth. I was a scribe in my time and was occupied nearly from morning to night with that. There should be four papyrus scrolls in front of you, one larger and three smaller, as well as three parchment scrolls. The papyrus scrolls show my life, while the parchment scrolls are the eternal teachings of Jesus. His scrolls are considerable more important than mine, perhaps even more significant than any records that exist hitherto in your time, for Jesus wrote these scrolls personally. The words of Jesus, saviour of all human souls, are to be found in these scrolls. However perhaps also the original film-recordings of the Santinians will convince you and many people, since the preference for viewing moving images will be on the rise in your time, whereas the willingness to read will be in decline, as the Santinians have informed me. I wish you and your soul a deep recognition. I am Joshua, a friend of Jesus.”

Michael paused briefly, pressed the pause button of his laptop. Could this truly be? He took a licorice. Was it possible that original writings of Jesus could be right here in front of him? Why did this Joshua seem so familiar? Was he really right? And if yes, then he must have already lived before. His girlfriends Susanne had told him this again and again and also given proof for the reincarnation. He just had never taken her seriously.

Michael stretched out for a moment and started the film again.

“I would like to begin my narrative on the day, when Rachel and I... yes, see for yourself. You will not regret it, for the events that follow now have the power to change you and your life. I am aware that not many have the opportunity to be so closely befriended with a person who did not come from this world and yet was more human than all other humans. I know that this person will be a very well known personality in your time. I doubt that there will ever be a more exact description of the life of this man. After all you will be seeing original recordings of the Santinians, and I never noticed any other scribe such as myself who would have written down the life of Jesus and his teachings. Unfortunately not many people knew how to write in those days. Actually almost none did. And those who could write did not want to follow the life of Jesus, but rather try their hand as merchants. Believe me, that which you now hold in your hands is unique and precisely documented. After all Jesus was my best friend and also my life, as I now know.

What I now want to tell you began on the day when ....”

Nazareth

The Blue-Eyed One

3 B.C. according to the common calendar

“Eeny, meeny mice, who has lice? Eeny, meeny moo, and lice have you! Joshua, you are Jacob, and I am the Lord.”

“Why does it have to be you, Simeon? You always want to be the Lord. You always only want to be the catcher.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yes it is. You always want to be the Lord.”

“Who cares, I simply am. Rachel, tie the cloth around Joshua’s eyes already. Get going.”

Joshua was angry. This idiot Simeon always had to act the big shot. It was not enough for him to constantly put Joshua down, he also had to declare himself ruler and decision maker for the girls.

Rachel approached him with the cloth. Now all grumbling was forgotten. Joshua liked Rachel and enjoyed it when she bound his eyes with the dirty rag.

“Rachel“, he whispered, “don’t let it get to you, Simeon is only a dumb Zealot. He can’t help it.” Both of them had to giggle.

The alleyways of Nazareth were always firmly in the hand of the children on afternoons. Most of the time they played ‚Jacob and the Lord’, since it was the favorite game of Simeon, and Simeon was the nearly undisputed King if the children in the village. Bigger than the others, no one dared to take him on. Except Joshua. He could still remember that day a couple of months ago very well, when he and Simeon had fought. There had not been a clear winner then, but a proud one. Since then Joshua had a scar on his left cheek. Simeon had injured him with a knife at the end of the fight. The running blood had ended the fight. He could still remember well how the girls then descended on him and gave him the attention befitting a hero. Simeon on the other hand was awarded with a beating from his father shortly after. Nonetheless Joshua enjoyed playing with the children now and then since he normally had to be learning and studying the torah in the house of his father around this time. For his father Samuel, the rabbi of the small village, did not like it when he played in the dust with other kids and wandered about. Especially not with Simeon, the brute, as he always tended to say. But Samuel disliked it even more, when Joshua played catch with the girls among the green hills of Nazareth.

Joshua had to obey and learn to be calm, for his father had ordained that he would become a scribe later on. For then he would be respected man, would serve the faith of his forefathers and would also never have to worry about his future.

However today Joshua had gotten away to play with the other children, for the rabbi was far far away in Sepphoris to meet with some folks who had journeyed there all the way from Jerusalem. Joshua had heard much about Sepphoris, but had never been there himself.

Eyes bound, Joshua stood in the middle of the largest alleyway and waited for Rachel to give him the sign to go ahead. Since the cloth also covered his ears, he could not hear much and waited quietly for his turn. However there was no sign. Only the wind grew stronger and stronger, until it turned into a storm that swirled up dust and fears and tormented his body as if with many little pinpricks. The children screamed and yelled as they fled. Joshua would have normally also quickly ran home, for like all other children he was afraid of sandstorms. They were all warned and taught about the dangers of these forces of nature and the demons dwelling in them. However today he remained standing and calmly pulled the cloth from his eyes. All of the kids had disappeared, only Rachel was still next to him and watched the happening with him. The storm became so strong that both of the children had to seek shelter behind a hut. They put their hands in front of their eyes, for the storm was raging and hurt. It felt as if the demons were playing one of their games with the people again. His father always said that only the Messiah could protect people from the demons.

Oh, couldn’t the Messiah come soon? By now he also knew what a Messiah was. After all his father spoke ever more often of the pressing need of the Jewish people for a Messiah, a saviour. He, Joshua, also was urgently awaiting him. The Messiah would surely rescue him from the relentless strictness of his father and from that boaster Simeon.

“Joshua, look. There are some people coming up the path. They were in the middle of the storm. They survived the demons“, Rachel shouted excitedly in order to come up against the howling of the wind. Only then did he realize that he once again had passage from the torah in front of his inner eye.

“I don’t see anything. Where?”

“Are you blind? There behind the house of Zephaniah.”

Joshua pinched his eyes together in order to recognize the new arrivals at the entrance to the village. Yes, Rachel was right. Who could that possibly be? They were not Romans, although their soldiers rode through Nazareth often in these days. His father was not supposed to be back till evening and did not own a donkey. For now, as the figures approached, he discerned a man leading a large donkey on which a woman sat.

“Who is it, Rachel?”

“I don’t know. Who in our village owns such a large donkey?”

Joshua could not look away from them until he also spotted a child in their age on the donkey, seated sheltered behind the woman. Joshua saw a glowing and froze. There had been something like a bright flash in the darkness, but he could only barely make out the outlines of the strangers. Who was that? Then he saw them. The blue eyes of the child lit up the darkness which was descending over Nazareth just now. The child looked directly at him. It became quiet about Joshua. The demons which had been audible shrieking and cursing in the storm, could not take away the holiness of this moment. These deep blue eyes dug deeply into Joshua’s soul. He became very warm and he felt sheltered. Who was this child?

∞

The sun had risen and shone its golden yellow light on the roughly sixty huts, houses and cave-dwellings of Nazareth. The village lay gracefully snuggled up against the hill behind it, like a panther. A majestic olive tree presided over all of it with its silvery leaves. A few inhabitants strolled comfortably through the alleyways.

The prayers had all been spoken, the family of the rabbi was complete, sitting at the morning meal. Finally they could eat. Like almost every morning they were having unleavened bread, cheese, milk and garlic olive oil. Additionally gigs and dates were served. His father had returned very late yesterday evening from Sepphoris and as always sat at the head of table. And besides, everything in the house of the Rabbi had to be the way it always had been. The seating order was a part of this. Samuel’s wife Sarah sat on the rabbi’s right hand side, to his left Joshua, then came Joshua’s half-sister Esther, whose mother had been the first wife of the rabbi up until her death, and then his younger sister Judith. It was forbidden for Joshua and his sisters to talk while they were seated at the table. They obeyed that rule, for obedience to the father was one of the most important virtues that existed. Obedience was an obligation. In this way Joshua became a good observer.

“Sarah, did I get this wrong or has Joseph the carpenter returned with his family?” Samuel broke a piece of bread and dipped it in the olive oil. Today he somehow seemed stricter. “A lamp was lit in their house yesterday evening and I heard a child laughing.”

Joshua glanced over to his mother and noticed her sad eyes. This atmosphere here was numbing him. His mother seemed fearful. She did not say anything. Joshua knew that whenever she had a hard time speaking she had been treated cruelly by his father. And when the Rabbi got angry, he beat her. Joshua was also often beaten, for the rabbi always found a reason to. Joshua hated his father so much, but also revered him in a strange way since he was highly respected in the village and always treated the other people fairly. And for this he hated him even more.

“Woman, answer me when I ask you a question.” It took a few seconds until Sarah was able to speak. Silence and fear filled the air.

“Yes, they are back again, Samuel.” She spoke very quietly. “Miriam came over to me yesterday evening and greeted me. Then I told her that the village was going to host a celebration in their honor. Joseph wanted to visit you after school and go over some things with you. “ She looked at her husband and awaited a reply that did not come.

“They were in the country of the Egyptians the past four years and meanwhile even have a son. He is called Yeshua. It must have been him you heard laughing. “

“They were gone for four years. Hard to believe that they even dare to show up here again.” Samuel shook his head angrily. “This village could have used a good craftsman these past years. But it is a mystery to me how they are still able to afford that big house. Oh well, then I suppose I will listen to what he has to tell me.”

Not a single word was spoken for the remainder of the meal. The strict glances of the rabbi suppressed any further expression. He was the ruler of this family.

Joshua had to let his mother and sisters clear off the table by themselves and followed Samuel across the courtyard into the large meeting hall which was situated across from the three living rooms. Samuel was a big man who took big steps, however he walked so hunched over that Joshua sometimes thought he would tip over any moment due to losing his balance.

The whole village gathered in the assembly hall when important events were to be discussed, and it was here that the children met for school. The rabbi was especially proud of this assembly room, in which Joshua was taught the teachings of their forefathers together with the other boys.

The family of the rabbi was one of only few in the village that owned a house with several rooms. Other inhabitants hat huts with one room in which the whole family lived and slept. However most of them lived in caves, for Galilee was strewn with caves. These living grottoes mostly consisted of one room, the main space inside of the cave. The living room was closed by a wall of piled up stones except for a space for the entrance. Some caves had an extension room built in front of their entrance which allowed the women more room for cooking and baking. There were also barn caves next to and behind the living areas that gave the animals shelter at night.

Joshua loved studying the torah. Since his fifth birthday that was his life. In the beginning it had been burdensome for him to always have to sit still. His concentration suffered from having to endure the strict gaze of his father for hours on end, and always facing the danger of painful punishment when he made mistakes. But then he found solace in the holy writings of his forefathers. He was lucky in that he learned easily and through this he also gained confidence. Studying the torah gave him courage and strength. In this way his father unintentionally showed him a way to be able bear the tyrant, for Joshua often escaped in his mind into other worlds and prayed to God, his real father. Thus he was able to absorb the teachings well and this was also why he was the best at reciting in school, although he was the youngest in his class.

For several years already Joshua was being taught Hebrew by Samuel. Although no one spoke it nowadays, it was mandatory for the study of the torah, for the torah was only allowed to be read in Hebrew. Samuel already began with this when Joshua was two years old. The first books, which were about Moses, Joshua found boring. The books of the prophets on the other hand were more interesting. Joshua was fascinated by the book of Micah. Especially the fifth chapter, in which the Messiah is announced, who is to be born in some small place in Judea. He had however forgotten which the name of that place.

Today once again the study of the torah was on the agenda. Joshua followed his father, who always wore the lightest prayer tunic over his head. Compared to their fathers Samuel was very old. Joshua had once overheard Sarah telling a friend that Samuel was thirty-nine years old when Joshua was born. He knew that other fathers were only half as old.

“Joshua, come along, hurry up. You are dreaming again.” The old rabbi was angry again and let him feel it.

That was not fair. Joshua became angry. Sometimes his hatred against his father was so strong that he could not fall asleep at night. Then he would pinch himself in the arm so that the pain chased away his thoughts and he could then get to rest, sobbing quietly. Joshua was safe from Samuel in the synagogue, which was what the grown-ups called the assembly room. Only in this place was Samuel not angry at him, one might almost say that he conveyed a sense of pride or quiet affection for Joshua here, for he spoke with him here and never beat him. That is why Joshua dug himself deeper into the study of the torah from month to month. Joshua loved the assembly hall, even if he met Simeon there again.

And sure enough, the first person who crossed his path was this demon of a braggart. He was safe from his mocking in the synagogue, for even he dared not speak in this room, but his glances were almost just as painful. If only Rachel were here, next to whom Joshua felt safe. But girls were not allowed to go to school, they had to learn the arts of household duties at home. But no matter, Samuel wanted to read from the book of Isaiah today. At least this would be exciting, even if it would take a long time. Simeon especially needed a long time for translating the texts into Aramaic. Almost all of them had trouble with the translation, but Simeon was completely incapable. And this pleased Joshua.

“The people who walk in darkness see a great light.” Samuel read loudly and clearly from the book of Isaiah. “A bright light shines over the inhabitants of a dark country. You give rich jubilations, create great joy. One is happy before you as one is happy at the harvest, as one sings in joy at the splitting of the bounty.”

Joshua glanced around the room. The twenty-eight boys around Joshua were silent – out of fear of the rabbi and a little out of respect for the writings. Only Simeon, whom he watched from the corner of his eye, was quiet out of sheer ignorance. Joshua knew that he simply could not follow along with what all had heard. Simeon simply did not understand Hebrew, let alone Greek. His little world was strictly Aramaic.

“For a child is born onto us, a son is given to us, upon whose shoulders the rulership lies. He is called wonder-council, God-hero, eternal father, prince of peace.” The rabbi looked up from his torah scroll and turned toward the young faces.

“Who of you would like to translate this part now?” Joseph, a frail boy, raised his hand. Next to Joshua, he was the most talented of the lot.

“Not always Joseph.” Samuel seemed angry. “With him I am sure that he has understood it. How about you, Amos?” The voice of the rabbi was demanding. “I am waiting..”

Amos glanced around the room in fear and eventually took heart and made an attempt. He did not get past a mumbling, but Joshua had to admit it was fairly respectable, since he was the best buddy of Simeon and also not exactly blessed with smarts.

“Yes, not bad, Amos. Show me the passage in the book that is related to this one. Or rather, in which the Messiah is announced.”

However now Amos was at the end of his ability to understand. “Rabbi, I am sorry but I do not know“, he said very quietly.

Samuel looked around among the group. “Who knows it? Simeon?”

He only shook his head.

“Eleasar?” This one too was being asked too much.

“Ismael, son of Jacob? Do you know it?”