The Reluctant Jesus: A Satirical Dark Comedy by Duncan Whitehead Read Free Book Online

dream, just as God had come to Mary two thousand or so years before. She recalled that the dream was extremely vivid, and it occurred whilst my Father, Ely, showered before bed. The dream involved a lot of harp-like music, references to lambs, strict instructions, and the odd joke.
    God, she claimed, had a pompous sounding English accent, which she found initially odd, but he explained that if had he a Yonkers accent, it would be even more preposterous. Mother agreed. He told her she had been chosen to carry the Nazarene, the son of God, the second coming, Jesus Christ part two, into the world. Just as it had occurred two thousand years before, a virgin would carry the child. Only a real virgin could deliver God’s only begotten son; well, second begotten son. As God had been reliably advised, Irma was indeed a virgin, and he was under pressure to get it done. (Apparently, he had gotten his timings wrong, and he had thought it wasn’t until the following year that he should be doing all this virgin hunting stuff.) Luckily, some wise old Saint had pointed out that if all the prophecies of the Bible were to be fulfilled by the end of the millennium, then God needed to act immediately.
    Being under pressure, he had found a virgin who fitted the bill. She met the required profile and, well, apparently that was the way it worked. She was the chosen one. She had pointed out in the dream that she was Jewish and that evidently God had made a mistake. God indeed had made a mistake. Confused by the surname Miller, God, and his team mistakenly assumed Irma and Ely were good Christians. More thorough research wouldn’t have gone amiss. After some deliberation, God decided my parents’ religion was of secondary importance. It was the virgin thing that really mattered. As he pointed out, the last ones were Jewish, and it didn’t seem to affect anything. And that was that.
    When she awoke from the dream, which apparently had lasted the time it took for my father to shower and shave, she immediately told her new husband of the visitation from God and the contents therein. After returning to the bathroom for approximately three minutes, for what, my mother did not know, Ely returned, slightly out of breath and a little flushed, and declared it fine with him. If that was what God had said, then that’s what God had said. He would wait to consummate his marriage after the birth of God’s son. He had already waited his whole life, so a little longer wouldn’t matter.
    That night turned into a month, and eventually, according to Mother, they never did consummate the marriage, and she remained a virgin, as she felt that it was what God meant by Virgin Mother. So when she went to visit the doctor for a regular health check seven days after her wedding night, it was indeed a miracle when her physician announced she was pregnant.
    Luckily, it would seem God had taken the precaution of visiting my father in a separate dream. I reminded myself to verify that with him later. God assured Ely that the child was indeed God’s, and that despite the awkwardness of the situation, he was grateful to Ely for allowing him the use of his wife’s womb, and he apologized for any inconvenience the event may have caused.
    Nine months later in January 1967, yours truly, Seth Miller, was born. Not in a stable, but at King’s County Hospital in Brooklyn, New York. Apparently, I weighed in at nine pounds and eight ounces and was nineteen inches long. There were no complications, and no wise men bearing gifts bothered to show up or offer my dad a cigar. It also seemed there was no shining light directing shepherds or other well-wishers to my birth either.
    After my birth, my mother and father waited for another sign from God. Since my mom had discovered she was pregnant with God’s son; God had been conspicuous in his absence; no visitations, no dreams, and no signs for either Irma or Ely. They assumed now that his son was born, God would once again enter their