And indeed the colonel did just as he said we would; he got up from his desk and approached Jesus, offering a cheek for him to punch.
“Here I am, do it! Hit me as hard as you want. Here’s your chance to strike out and assert yourself as a god. After that you’ll die in peace on the cross.”
But Jesus did not let go of his pants, his hands remained firmly clamped down on the belt hooks.
“The force connecting man and god is not raw power but love. If my presence were not so odious to you I’d kiss you on that cheek you’re offering to me instead of punching you. Love is the true foundation of peace, not power. Peace will only come to mankind when they learn to renounce power in favor of love.”
The colonel quickly went back to his seat, fanning the smell away from his face.
“All right,” he went on, “this was just a little test. But here comes the real thing. You heard the Roman. Your talk about being a god is stirring up unrest in the population. And what’s worse, it’s stirring up the Roman occupiers. If you’re really committed to peace you must renounce this talk, otherwise there’ll be more riots and more reprisals, and eventually the country will be obliterated. Is that what you want?”
The colonel lit up a cigarette and then offered one to Jesus, but the latter shook his head.
“ Sounds like to me you’re in the propaganda arm of the resistance movement. But remember, we are the true resistance, we, the Temple Security; we preserve peace by preserving tradition and the laws. If you want peace, why don’t you work with us?”
“I work with my father in heaven…” Jesus whispered wearily.
“Listen. If you make a statement to the press renouncing your claims to divinity and acknowledging the legitimacy of the Temple Authority, who knows, maybe we can even give you a ministerial position and then pension you off in peace and prosperity… That would pull the rug out from under all those other saviors and the whole self-destructive resistance movement.”
“My soul is already at peace…”
The colonel squashed his cigarette.
“You’re hopeless. Get out of my sight! And out of my smell! Guards!”
The rest of the story went according to schedule and close to recorded history. The guards rushed in and quickly delivered a few more whacks with their rubber truncheons before hustling the prisoner out of the interrogation room.
“I want you guys to make this jerk scream. Did you hear me? Otherwise you too will be screaming your heads off…” The colonel was sputtering at the flustered guards, but as they were leading their charge away down the corridor the colonel called after them:
“On second thought, forget it! Just get rid of him. Otherwise the idiot might scream like hell just to save your skins...”
The prison escort stopped like a cart fallen in a pothole. They all looked back at the colonel who was standing in the steel frame of the interrogation room, wiping his brow with a handkerchief. Finally it was Jesus who broke the silence of this uneasy hesitation tango.
“Sounds like you’ve learned something from the son of god, after all. We may yet enjoy the peace of heaven together very soon!”
As soon as he spoke the guards remembered their duty and resumed dragging their prisoner down the corridor and looking for a vacant cross.
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