Angel on Top
A Xmas Story
“Sure, Charlie Brown, I can tell you what Xmas is all about. . .
"Lights, please.
"And there, were in the same country, shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.
"And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.
And the angel said unto them, “Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.”
—Linus Van Pelt
Once upon a time there was a baby named Jesus who was gay gay gay and his mother Mary was gay gay gay and his father Joseph was gay gay gay.
Jesus had quite the origin story. When Mary’s water broke, they couldn’t find anyplace to lay their heads. It was quite dire. At the time they lived, and where they lived, if you even just were a tiny bit different, people would stone you. —Flat out stone you to death.
The people in this place and time lived in fear of each other. They were paranoid, and with cause, that their own essence would be "found out” and they would be surely be stoned themselves. It was a dog-eat-dog, snitch-snitch-snitch situation.
Outcasts like J’s family were always living on the road, in the rough. Mother Mary had miscarried many times before, and she had no reason to think little baby Jesus would make it. She had to be stoic. After all, she only had sex with men for money. She was gay. There was no romantic expectations. She didn’t have romantic intercourse, but rather intercourse with men who would’ve normally stoned her, or stoned other men like themselves, if their secrets were exposed.
Father Joseph was good with his hands. Kind of a quiet guy, but tried to help in practical ways. He was a radical fairy who could build anything out of mud, out of dung, you name it. Give him some straw and it was Cob- R-Us.
At the very last minute, Joe and Mary found a nighttime rural shelter. It was filled with the kind of soft hay that looks like a classroom project, and a couple of really cute animals: an adorable donkey and the sweet lamb.
While this family had many problems, talking to animals wasn’t one of them. They were relieved in their respite and care. It was a good night.
Jesus was an easy labor. He came out looking like a supermodel. His head was a lovely shape, with an actual hairdo…little wet curls arranged on his brow.
That kind of “right on time” charisma followed young J the rest of his life. He took his hippie gay working class parents’ kindness and egalitarian ethos, and found himself to be the Johnny Appleseed of Empathy.
He would say things like, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you” — and even though he wasn’t the first to say it, and Mary had a whole cult around her that had been saying it for years— it caught on with a new crowd. It was like Woodstock. J's charisma was off the charts; it was a case of the “right time in the right place.”
Sometimes Jesus would get in bitter funks. “Why me?” he’d cry, “Why do I have to endure this groupie cult insanity? Revolution needs to be a mass movement, it’s not about individuals!”
It’s hard for visionary people to shut down, to despair. They are always looking for the flaw within. J would disappear for days sometimes, and yet when he came back, everyone was more hungry for his comfort and inspiration than ever before.
J got to the point of loneliness, that besides Mary, and another of the young prostitutes, Magdalena, he didn’t feel like there was anyone who really understood him.
“But the people do know you,” Maggie would say, “And they are changing themselves from the inside, and the way they are changing their world will endure in ways that outlive you. Jesus, it's something bigger than you, or any one man.”
J heard her words, but his worries consumed him.
A cruel minority of the state apparatus, the ruling Romans, decided if they nipped Jesus himself in the bud, they could destroy the mass movement. They were threatened, and rightly so. King Herod controlled the military.
After a lot of making excuses, the King decided to crucify Jesus, torture him, bleed him, and leave him to die nailed on a cross. Harsh.
Part of Jesus’s legacy, is that if someone makes a big deal about their own sacrifice or suffering, such a complainer will be reprimanded by a family member who will say, “Really? Get down off the cross, buddy, someone else needs the wood.”
You see, Jesus never recanted. —Didn’t take the easy way. He never confessed or took back his beliefs, and he refused to bow to the Romans' corruption. People were watching the whole time, and they swore it was true. J's faith prevailed over the oppressors' sinister force.
Surprise, surprise, a few days later, some of the sacred whores from Mary’s group were walking through the quarry and LO and BEHOLD, Jesus was back.
Or, someone who looked just like him.
Or, an apparition that had all J’s best qualities. It was a little unclear, but the main thing was, the Romans had won their tinpot battle but lost an epic war. Their religion? Toppled. Christ’s teachings? —Got big, real big.
Jesus was bummed about the growing cultishness of his legacy. A whole religion was named after him, but it made him squirm.
Mary said, “I’ll always love you, kiddo, but it should been ‘Marianism’ and you know it.” Mary thought her version would've been incorruptible, but I guess now we’ll never know.
When you want to talk about a single individual who changed his community, and sacrified his blood rather than take the knee . . . well, you couldn’t do a lot worse than the story of JC.
His steadfast glory is why there is a shiny angel on top of the Xmas tree. It’s a symbol of the North Star J was born under, with his beautiful curls glistening in the Bethlehem night. The star is the moral compass. When you have one, and you stick to it, stick to it fast! You’ll be as constant as the Northern star— and a lot of the bullshit, it all falls away.
Little known Apocrypha, The Gospel of Linus!
👏 👏