deVan and Picture #12: deVan’s Sixth Visit

                     

Visit #6:  Rain

 

This is the sixth of the visits by young deVan to the building behind the unlocked door.

 

 deVan was wet and a little drippy as he pulled open the heavy wooden door, the one that was always ajar, and made his way into the large empty church. 

            Almost empty.

            By the time he had made his way around the 14 Stations of the Cross, the pictures showing his friend’s trek to his death, the dripping had stopped, but deVan still felt soggy as he doubled back to the 12^th Station and looked up at the man on the cross, who spoke first.

            “Hello, deVan. Looks like you got caught in a downpour.”
            “Hi, Jesus. Yeah. I thought I’d beat the rain over here. As you can see…” and deVan shook his head briskly so a brief shower of droplets disembarked wildly from his hair.

            “Anything interesting happen to you this week?”

            “Yes,” deVan answered. “I got caught in a rainstorm.”

            “I am aware of that event. Anything else?”

            “I’ve been thinking about The Watcher.”

            “Is this someone I haven’t met yet?
            “Neither of us has met him. I don’t even know if it’s a him.”

            “Tell me more.”

            “I saw him, or whoever, the last time I was here.”

            “He was here?”

            “Yes. And he’s here now.”

            “Really? I’m amazed that you saw this Watcher. It’s very dark in here.”

            “I see in the dark. Like a lemur. It’s a gift. My mom noticed it when I was a toddler.”

            Jesus was extremely curious. “Tell me more about this gift.”

            “I could walk around at night without bumping into things. My older sister wouldn’t even try to walk around in the dark.”

            “This is remarkable.”

            “It is. Mom took me to the pediatrician, Dr. Mains.  She was in the Marines, not then but earlier. She tested me and told me I’d be a nocturnal navigator if I was a Marine.”

            “Is it a physical thing?
            “She said probably I have a higher number of rod cells in my retinas. Dad calls it my superpower. I also have exceptional peripheral vision.”

            “That’s amazing.” Jesus was really amazed.

            “Yeah. I knew about this pretty early, I think.”

            “Hm.”

            deVan lowered his voice almost to a whisper. “Actually, Jesus, I disagree with Dad. I think my superpower is being transgender.”

            Now Jesus was conflicted. Conversations with deVan tended to do that. “Now I am equally interested in hearing about how being trans is a superpower and what’s going on with this Watcher.”

            “Good,” deVan said, a broad smile upon his face. “We’ll start with Question Number One: why is being transgender a superpower?”

            Jesus nodded, or would have if the picture moved at all.

            deVan continued. “To start with, I don’t remember when I first knew I was a boy. That’s because no one remembers when they first knew. Do you remember when you first knew you were a boy, Jesus?”

            “I never thought of it. It’s like when did I first know I had fingers and toes. It feels like a silly question.”

            “Right. It is a silly question. That’s why only trans people get asked when they knew what gender they are. We get the silly questions.”

            “But everybody’s telling you you are a girl, isn’t that true? That’s different.”

            “That’s true and different. I had a girl name; I wore dresses; I got girl gifts.”

            “Girl gifts?”

            “You should see my Barbie collection.”

            “Who?
            “She’s a doll. Don’t make me explain Barbie. It would take years.”

            “Okay. So you got girl clothes and girl gifts. Wasn’t that confusing?”

            “No. I wasn’t confused. It was how I grew up for the first few years. I guess I figured everybody else was confused.”

            “How did you get across that you were a boy?”

            “I said, ‘I’m a boy.’”

            “That’s definitely one way.”

            deVan smiled at the memories. “One really strong memory was my ears.”

            “Ears?”

            “Mom had them pierced when I was a baby. I remember realizing that only girls had their ears pierced, or so I thought. That upset me way more than the clothes. I could change clothes, but the piercings were part of my body.”

            “What did you do?”

            “I told my Mom I didn’t want them, and she took out the studs and let them close.”

            Jesus thought about this. “Looks like this was a whole process for you.”

            “Not so much for me, really. It was a process big time for Mom and Dad. They took me to a gender clinic in the city. That’s a hospital that works with us. I didn’t want to go at first because I really didn’t want to be different from other boys. But the doctors and the rest of the people there made me feel good, normal, you know?”

            “You said being trans is your superpower.”

            “Yeah, but I didn’t know it then. Everybody had to kind of catch up to me first. They thought I was transitioning because I started wearing boy clothes and getting into boy sports and stuff. Actually, Jesus, they were the ones transitioning. It took my grandpop over a year to get used to saying ‘he’ instead of ‘she.’”

            “I see what you mean.”

            “It’s, like, recently that I saw trans as a superpower. It’s a little hard to explain. I am a boy. I wear boy clothes and play flag football and baseball with other boys. I get boyness, you know?”

            “Boyness?”

            “Yeah. But I also get girlness, I think. I have friends who are girls.”

            “Like Abrielle.” Abrielle was deVan’s friend, a girl, also a Christian, who once punched out a bully who was harassing deVan and her.

            “Yes, and I have others too. Most boys don’t have a lot of girl-type friends. You see, I am a boy, but not just a boy. I’m a trans boy.

            “And,” Jesus said, “that makes you different.”

            “That makes me me. Let me see. I never tried to put this into words before.”

            “Take your time.”

            “I think I see girls the way other boys would like to see girls.”

            “I get it. It is a superpower to feel what other people have a hard time feeling. I knew how it felt to love my enemies, but it has been difficult for my followers to feel that.”

            “It starts by discovering how much you are like them, I think.”

            “Now,” Jesus said. “Tell me about The Watcher.”

            “Okay, first of all, he’s here now. Behind me and to my left, near the pillar all the way across the Church from me. And he might not be a he.” deVan hardly moved as he said this.

            “You mean in front of the Third Station of the Cross.”

            “Between the Second and the Third. He is like a long shadow, but not flat.”

            “Three dimensional.”

            “For sure.”

            “Can you tell what he, or whoever, is wearing?”

            “Something that moves…or ripples…when he moves, from his chest to his feet.”

            “A what? A robe?”

            “There’s something else, Jesus.”

            “What else?”
            “It’s getting bigger.”

            “What do you mean, ‘getting bigger’?”

            “I mean he’s coming over to me.”

            “Oh.”

            “I guess we’ll have to cut this short.”

            “Bye, deVan.”

            Jesus had no idea deVan could move that fast. He was out the back door and into a driving rain before the shadowy figure managed one more ripple.

 

            

 

deVan and Picture #12: deVan’s Fifth Visit

Visit #5: The Intruder

 

This is the fifth of the visits by young deVan to the building behind the unlocked door.

 

As the large, heavy wooden door creaked open and allowed deVan entry, two ears inside the building heard the belching sound. Between the ears was a head that tilted to one side inquisitively. Beneath the head, a thin body rose upon its feet and turned toward the sound.

            deVan, unaware of ears, heads, bodies or feet other than his own, made his way, as he had done several times before, to the inside door, a portal to the Catholic church that was home to his very good friend. Before that, of course, deVan had to make his way to the first picture on the side wall, the one proclaiming, “Jesus is condemned to death.” He now knew this was one of the 14 Stations of the Cross, depicting the path his friend took to the hill where he was nailed to a cross.

            The long thin figure was witness to all this, its shadowy presence no more than a hardly visible crease in the big empty church. All was well, one supposed. The child was walking the Stations with reverence, a sight too solemn and too rare to interrupt. Curiosity grew when the boy finished the 14^th Station (Jesus is buried) and reversed course until he was back at the 12^th (Jesus is crucified). The child stood there a very long time, apparently chatting with the man looking down upon him from the cross.

            Greetings over, Jesus said, “What’s new today, deVan?” “Every day is new, Jesus, all new. Did you ever notice that?”

            “Of course,” Jesus replied, a little excitement slipping into his voice. “That was a point I was constantly trying to get across in my preaching.”

            “Hm,” deVan said. “We already know you weren’t the best preacher around.”

            “Hey!”

            “People kept getting you wrong. First, they wouldn’t shut up when you told them to. Then, they thought you were going to overthrow the king when you said you weren’t.”

            “deVan, you have to realize, people have a hard time understanding my preaching when they think I’m going to tell them something entirely different.”

            “One of the things you preached was that each day is new?”

            “I didn’t put it exactly that way, but yes.”

            “This is where you get into trouble. How exactly did you put it?”

            “I said, sufficient to the day is the evil thereof.”

            “Dang, Jesus. Could you be any fuzzier?”

            “I also taught people to pray: give us this day our daily bread.”

            “What? You got evil thereof and daily bread, and that adds up to every day is new?”

            “Yes. Look, people worry about things down the road, in the future, when they should just take each day as it comes.”

            deVan smiled. “Take each day as it comes. There! Just say that. That’s something I had to learn.”

            “What do you mean, deVan?”

            deVan sighed. “You know I’m transgender, right? I used to get upset, really upset, about all the bad things that could happen to me if people didn’t accept me. My therapist…”

            Jesus interrupted. “You have a therapist?”

            “Yeah, he’s great; he’s trans too. I see him every week. He helped me see that each day was new and the day after was not here yet. His mantra was, ‘today has enough problems; tomorrow will have to wait.’ Pretty cool, right?”

            “Sufficient to the day is the evil thereof, deVan.”

            “All right, all right,” deVan admitted. “They really mean the same thing. But you don’t have to say it like Shakespeare.”

            “I didn’t talk like Shakespeare. I spoke simple Aramaic.”

            “If that’s true, why do you sound so unsimple?”

            Jesus sighed. “The people who translated the bible made me sound that way. If you heard me in Aramaic, I would have sounded just like I do now.”

            “If I heard you in Amaratic, you’d sound like—” and here deVan did an entirely inappropriate imitation of a foreign language, which, to be fair, he would not learn was inappropriate for several more years. “But I get your point. Are there any translations that sound like you?”

            “Several. But the one you hear most sounds like, what you said, Shakespeare.”

            “I have to ask Abrielle about this.” Abrielle was deVan’s friend who didn’t speak to him and knew a lot about the bible because she was a “five-star Christian.” deVan looked up at the man looking down at him. “Jesus?”

            “Yes?”
            “Did the people who killed you hate you?”

            Jesus thought for a minute. “I don’t think so, deVan. I don’t think they knew what they were doing.”

            deVan was a little surprised. “These Stations of the Cross sure make it seem like they knew what they were doing.”

            “Oh, they knew how to put on a crucifixion.”

            “You make it sound like a rock concert.”

            “It was meant to be a spectacle. To show people what happens when they go against Rome. I went up that hill with a group of condemned men.”

            “The Stations didn’t show that.”

            “Poetic license, remember?” Jesus said. deVan once told Jesus that you can change parts of a story to make it flow better.

            “But you didn’t think they hated you?
            “Hate is just fear on fire, deVan.”

            “Fear on fire?”

            “Yes. Cold fear can freeze you or cause you to run away. Fear on fire attacks and burns. 

            “What sets it on fire?”
            “The feeling that I am threatened, that you are something awful that will harm me if I don’t burn you out.”

            “Did people feel that way about you?”

            “Some did.”

            “What set their fear on fire?”
            “Some of them thought I was out to change the way they lived.”

            “Were you?”

            “If they weren’t living in love, yes.”

            “Is that all?”

            “Others thought I was taking what they felt was important and making it unimportant. Or taking what they thought was unimportant and making it important.”

            deVan blinked a couple of times. “Any examples of this?”

            “I told them the poor, the meek, and the powerless were as valuable as the wealthy and the strong. That the stranger deserves their love and care as much as their family.”

            “Why would that make them hate you?”

            “They felt threatened. Maybe the powerful would lose their power if everyone thought the weak were just as important. And, deVan, if you are blessed to be rich and think you deserve to be rich, you don’t want someone coming along telling people the poor are also blessed.”

            “Is that what you told them, that the poor were blessed?”

            “Yes.”

            “I still don’t get hate. The poor are different from the rich, but they aren’t really a threat.”

            “deVan, I have to tell you, I don’t get hate either. That fear on fire is dangerous. It doesn’t just burn the one who is feared; it burns the hater too.”

            “It’s dumb is what it is.”

            Jesus could only agree. “The fire is so bright it blinds the hater to the goodness in others. It is so hot it scorches everything it touches.”

            “So love puts out the fire?”

            “Love brings its own brightness, but love’s brightness makes us able to see. Love brings heat, too, but it’s a heat that warms and comforts.”

            deVan smiled. “Now see there, Jesus. You can preach pretty good when you put your mind to it.”

            “And you listen pretty well when you’re not being a wise guy.”

            That thin figure in the shadows heard deVan’s laughter as the boy strode away from the twelfth Station, through the sanctuary and out the back door. It seemed to glide over to the picture of the man on the cross. The figure stood for a while where deVan had stood, looked up, and wondered.

deVan and Picture #12: deVan’s Fourth Visit

Visit #4: Henry

 

This is the fourth of the visits by young deVan to the building behind the unlocked door. You can read this as a standalone, or you may want to read them in order.

 

deVan was so excited that, when he opened the door to the back of the church building, he almost tore it off its hinges. Actually, he didn’t come close to tearing it off its hinges because the door to the back of the church building was large and thick, and, even in his excited state, he struggled to open it wide enough for his body to slip in. The point is, deVan was excited.

            He entered the church sanctuary and walked immediately over to what he now knew were the Stations of the Cross, 14 pictures telling the story of the death of his newest friend. As was his practice, deVan stopped at each one of the 14 Stations, read the accompanying explanation of what was going on, and just thought about it for a few seconds.

             When he circled back to Picture #12, the man on the cross was first to speak. “You kind of rushed around the Stations today, deVan.”

            deVan didn’t think so, but that can happen when you are excited to meet up with a good friend; you don’t even know you are rushing. “Hello, Jesus.”

            This was becoming a thing. If one of them forgot to start with a “hello,” the other would gently say it first. “Good morning, deVan,” Jesus said. “Now what has you so animated this morning?”

            “I made NJHS!”

            “That’s exciting, deVan. Do those letters stand for something?”

            “Yes, they stand for something.”

            Jesus waited.

            “They stand for National Junior Honor Society. You probably didn’t have one back when you went to school.”

            “No, school was different then. I did become an apprentice mason when I was your age, though. That was a kind of junior honor.”

            “You were a bricklayer?” deVan’s attention often shifted to what became interesting at the moment.

            “Much more than that. There’s no word for it today. I was a tekton. I did carpentry, working in wood, but I also was a stonemason. My Dad and I worked on the homes of the wealthy. That paid well.”

            “That doesn’t sound on brand for you.”

            “On what?”

            “On brand. It means kind of matching up with who you are supposed to be.”

            At times deVan caused Jesus some annoyance; this was one of those times. “I don’t think I have a brand, deVan.”

            At this assertion, deVan could not hold back a chuckle. “Are you kidding? Live in love; feed the hungry; heal sick folks; yell at rich people.”

            “I never yelled…”

            “The point is, you have a one hundred percent definite brand.”

            Rather than succumb to exasperation, Jesus decided to go with deVan’s faulty logic. “All right, but how is doing masonry for wealthy people off brand.”

            “Because you’re helping people who don’t need your help. I don’t know all that much about the bible…”

            “Understatement,” Jesus muttered.

            “…but I bet there isn’t a story about how great it is to build houses for super rich people.”

            “How about if I told you that the experience taught me how differently the rich and poor live?”

            “Yeah…”

            “And that experience helped a lot when I was creating my brand.”

            “I can see that.”

            “So?”

            “So,” deVan said jauntily, “back to the NJHS.”

            “Right.”

            “I never thought I’d be selected.”

            “Why not?”

            “I thought I wasn’t taking enough honors courses. But my grades were good, so I got in.”

            “I am happy for you.” Jesus meant it.

            “You know the best part?

            “I assume the best part was being selected.”

            “Nope.” This is where deVan’s smile shaded ever so slightly toward wickedness. “The best part was the look on Aubrielle’s face when they announced that I got in.” Aubrielle Vinly was a very smart classmate of deVan’s; she was, in deVan’s words, a “five-star Christian” and someone deVan could always count on to explain the bible to him.

            “She was surprised you made the Honor Society?”

            “She was flabbergasted. She came up to me afterwards and said congratulations, like it was a question.”

            “So Aubrielle is talking to you now?” Aubrielle, being a five-star Christian, had told deVan she had to shun him because he was transgender.

            “She goes back and forth. If I pass her in the hall she shuts her mouth till it becomes a little line and nods at me.”

            “Will she still talk about the bible with you?
            “That’s the thing. If I just say the word “bible” to her, she’ll sit and look me in the eye and not just talk but listen. Like on Wednesday, when she punched Henry Slacken in the mouth.”

            Jesus was frankly caught off guard by this sudden pivot. “She what?”

            “Henry Slacken is a big beefy bully, and he has at least four nasty looking zits around his nose.”

            “And?”

            “He comes up to me last Wednesday. I was alone with Aubrielle outside during lunch — we’re allowed to go out after we eat — talking about the bible. Do you want to hear what we were talking about?”

            “No, I want to hear about this Henry.”

            “Oh. Okay. So Henry must have seen us by ourselves. He comes up to me and does that thing bullies do where they get right in your face. Those zits are not pretty. Then he calls me names, you know, because I’m trans, tells me I don’t belong here. Right then, Aubrielle tells him to back off me.”

            “She did?”

            “Yeah. Aubrielle is a lot of things but a coward isn’t one of them.”

            “What happened then?” Jesus was intensely interested.

            “Then Henry turns to her and laughs. I think he was going to say, ‘What are you gonna do about it,’ but he got just about to the word ‘do’ when, wham! She jabs him right in the mouth.”

            “Hard?” Jesus said.

            “Oh, yes. Aubrielle is some sort of black belt in karate. She could have punched him even harder if she wanted.”

            “How do you know that?”

            “Because she said after, ‘I could have punched him harder.’”

            “What happened then?”

            “Not much. Henry ran off with his sleeve against his mouth.”

            “Didn’t he report her?”

            At this deVan could only laugh. “Definitely not. It would be totally off brand for Henry Slacken to be punched out by a girl.”

            Jesus mused, “I’m getting the hang of this brand concept.”

            “Right?” deVan said. “Not everyone has a brand, but every bully does. That’s why, when a bully shows up in a movie, you always know exactly what they’re going to do.”

            “Were you shaken up by all this?”

            “A little, but Henry I’m used to. He says something mean every time he passes me in the hall.”

            “How was Aubrielle?”

            “Fine. After she said she could have hit him harder, she just sat and said, ‘I really hate bullies.’ I thought that was pretty obvious. Now, are you ready for this?”

            Jesus was wary. “deVan, I’m never ready for what you’re going to say next.”
            “So I ask her, ‘Hey, Aubrielle, are there any bullies in the bible?’ She gets snooty right away and says, ‘I assume you are referring to the New Testament. Well, the answer is yes.’ And she told me about a girl who was caught committing the sin of adulthood, I think she said.”

            “Close enough,” Jesus affirmed.

            “This girl, she’s dragged to Jesus by the bullies, and they tell Jesus they are going to stone her. You know what that is?”

            “Yes.”

            “It’s bad. Really bad. They want to kill her right there because that’s the law. So, Jesus says, fine, the man with no sins can throw the first stone. But there’s no one with no sins so the bullies all slink away. Then Jesus asks the woman, who’s around to condemn you to death? She looks around and says, nobody, and Jesus says that he, you, won’t condemn her either. Then you tell her to leave and don’t do any more sinning.”

            “That’s an excellent summary.”

            “Then Aubrielle says, that’s the point of the story, that the girl should not do any more sinning.”

            “What did you say?”

            “Ha. I said, ‘what? That wasn’t what I got out of it.’”

            “What did…”

            “What did I get out of it? First of all, saying not to sin is not the main point. What else are you going to say, like hey, lady go and sin like crazy! No. It’s just the obvious thing to say. The point is that you did not condemn her. You forgave her, right?”

            “Yes.”

            “Aubrielle said sure, that’s important, but it’s more important not to sin.”

            “Did you disagree?”

            “Nope. What I said was, ‘what if the same girl did the same sin a week later and was dragged to you again? What would happen?’”

            “Hm,” Jesus said. “Interesting.”

            “Oh, yeah. Aubrielle really had to think about that. Finally she said you’d forgive the girl a second time. I said how about a third time. Then she said something about seventy times seventy times, which I guess is a lot of times.”

            “What does all that mean to you, deVan?”

            “It means you’re on my side against all the bullies in the world.”

            “That’s true.”

            “That’s the part I like.”

            “Is there another part?”

            “Yeah, I think. It looks like I’ve got to forgive Henry Slacken and keep forgiving him.”

            “I think you are right,” Jesus said.

            “But I don’t have to feel extra bad that he got a nice smack in the mouth.”

            “I’m not going to argue with that.”

            deVan laughed out loud. “I’m not sure that’s on brand, Jesus.”

            “Oh well,” said the man on the cross. 

deVan and Picture #12: deVan’s Third Visit

Visit #3: Abrielle 

This is the third of the visits by young deVan to the building behind the unlocked door. You can read this as a standalone, or you may want to read them in order.

 

The unlocked back door seemed especially heavy as deVan hauled it open this Saturday morning. When he entered the sanctuary, the Church seemed especially dark. As he worked his way around the 14 Stations of the Cross, the story seemed especially sad.

            “What’s the matter, deVan?” That was the voice emanating so clearly from Picture #12, the voice of deVan’s good friend, who knew something was the matter.

            “Your big idea is ‘live in love,’ right?” deVan’s voice had an edge he did not try to mask.

            “Yes, that’s my big idea. Are you upset because it’s not funny?” deVan and man on the cross had been pursuing ways to infuse more humor into the man’s story.

            “No, I never expected it to be funny. But I didn’t expect it to be so brutal.”

            “All right, what happened?”

            Now deVan looked straight up into the eyes of the man on the cross. “What happened, Jesus, is that when you live in love, some people don’t want to live there with you.”

            Jesus most likely shook his head at this, although there was no way to tell for sure. “That can be brutal, all right. So?”

            “So, I go up to Aubrielle Vinly to discuss you. Aubrielle is a five star Christian, wears a cross neckless. She can’t be Catholic because there’s no Jesus on her cross.”

            “deVan, there doesn’t have to be a Jesus — anyway, it doesn’t matter; go on.”

            “Now, Aubrielle and I have known each other since first grade. She’s really smart, and she already told me she can’t be my friend because—”

            “Because you’re trans.”

            “Right. Which bothered me, but not too much because, before I met you, I figured, that’s how Christians felt so what can I do about it?”

            “I see.”

            deVan made a whooshing sound as he exhaled. “Well, I don’t see. I don’t see at all. I’m fine with Aubrielle not talking to me, and then I meet you and here you are talking to me and telling me I’m your friend.”

            “You are my friend.”

            “Yeah, we’re friends, you and me. Then a Christian tells me she can’t be my friend because you said she can’t. Do you see the problem here?”

            “Yes.”

            “You do?”

            “Yes, deVan.”

            “Jesus, one of you guys has to be right and one of you has to be wrong.”

            “About what?” Jesus asked.

            “About what? About me! She thinks I’m someone she shouldn’t talk to because Jesus doesn’t want her to talk to me, and here you are talking to me. That’s the problem you said you understood, understand?”

            “How do you see the problem?”

            “Simple. One of us is good, and one of us is bad. If I’m the good one, Aubrielle is bad for not talking to me. If she’s the good one, I’m bad because you said so.”

            Jesus paused to give this some thought. “deVan, remember ‘live in love.’”

            “Yeah, I do remember. It’s brutal.”

            “Sometimes, sure, but you have to get it right to start with.”

            “Meaning?”

            Jesus sighed. “‘Live in love’ is a little more involved than—”

            “I knew it! It was just too simple.”

            “Look, deVan. It is simple. It’s just there’s a bit more to it.”

            “What?”

            “I’m sure I told you this. ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ It doesn’t work any other way.”

            “What the heck does that mean?”

            Jesus almost certainly smiled. “Love yourself. It means you are good, and you know it.”

            “Oh.” deVan stopped to think, and the man on the cross let him think. “‘Live in love’ starts with me saying I am good. If I am good, then Aubrielle is bad, is that it?”

            “That,” said Jesus definitively, “is most certainly not it.”

            “I see another complication coming.”

            “I see it as making it less complicated.”

            “Okay, Jesus, make it less complicated.”

            “Do not judge.”

            “Who am I judging?”

            “Anyone you call bad. Anyone you say is doing bad.”

            “But—”

            “There are no buts on this one, deVan.”

            “So she gets to judge me because I’m trans, but I don’t get to judge her. Do you know how that feels?”

            Jesus cleared his throat. “Did you check out the Stations of the Cross today, deVan?”

            “Yeah. I guess you do know how it feels. How did you handle it?”

            “I forgave them.”

            “Come on! Just like that, you forgave them?”

            “No. Not just like that. It was hard.”

            “So, I should forgive Aubrielle.”

            “deVan, you should love Aubrielle.”

            “So, if she came here you would talk to her, just like you talk to me?

            “Yes.”

            “Even if she’s mean to me?”

            “Yes, especially then.”

            “Dang.”

            “Dang?”

            “I’m starting to get this ‘live in love’ thing. I live in love, and I love others like I love myself, so I am good. No matter what others think of me, I don’t judge them as bad. I just keep loving.”

            “Sounds about right.”

            “I’m not sure I like it. I never get to stand up for myself.”

            “You always stand up for yourself. You are good. Never let go of that.”

            “Jesus,” deVan said, his voice in a whisper. “Is it wrong to be trans?”

            Jesus smiled, and this time deVan was sure Jesus was smiling because the warmth circled all around him. “You are good, deVan. Loving yourself means loving you the way you are. Anything else would be wrong.”

            “I’m glad you are my friend, Jesus.”

            “Thank you, deVan.”

            deVan brightened instantly. “And to prove it, guess what? I asked Aubrielle what she knew about James and John. You know, your youngest apprentices.”

            “I thought she wasn’t talking to you.”

            “Oh, yeah, true. But I started by saying I wanted to discuss the Bible, and she couldn’t shut up about it.”

            “So, what did she say?”

            “Lots. She told me they were brothers, James and John. By the way, how young were they?”

            “I’m not sure. Maybe 15 and 16, maybe a little younger.”

            “Didn’t you guys have child labor laws back then?”

            “No, and not for a long time after.”

            “Still, 15, dang. She said you pulled them away from their dad who had a fishing business.”

            “Pulled away is a little harsh.”

            “Still, Jesus, they left their father sort of hanging there.”

            “Was this what you wanted to tell me?”

            “No, but dang. Anyway, we’re looking for ways to make your message, story, whatever, more humorous, right? This James and John deal has potential.”

            “How? They were usually a pain.”

            “Aubrielle said they were your favorites, along with Peter.”

            “Yes, they were very passionate. And Peter got on my nerves, too.”

            “What’s the thing with one of the two brothers sitting on your right hand and one on your left hand?”

            “What did Aubrielle say?”

            “She said their mom told you to make sure they got special treatment, like she was a beauty pageant mom.”

            Jesus likely chuckled. “That’s not far off. The right hand left hand business was her mistaken notion that I was about to overthrow the Romans and establish a kingdom in their place. She wanted her sons near the throne she imagined.”

            “But your kingdom was not in this world. Didn’t you get that across?”

            “Obviously not as well as I thought.”

            “Maybe after the comedy lessons we can work on your preaching.”

            “No need to get cheeky. I brought them both up a mountain and showed them in no uncertain terms where my kingdom was. Scared the bejesus, pardon the expression, out of them.”

            “Sorry.”

            “Now what’s so funny about James and John and their beauty pageant mother?”

            “Are you kidding? It’s a comedy gold mine!”

            “Really?”

            “Sure.” deVan was excited. “Every teen move ever made has some kind of beauty pageant mom in it.”

            “That sounds like something that has been done before.”

            “That’s the point. Those movies are, like, happening today. This story, your story, takes place, what? Like five hundred years ago, right?”

            “More like two thousand.”

            “Years?”

            “Years.”

            “Dang!”

            And deVan and the man on the cross did some serious work on the funny side of the Gospel.