"Alright," Jesus said. "But you do a lot of swearing at each other, don't you?"
Richard became noticeably uncomfortable, knowing that he had a strong tendency toward this behavior, especially in heavy traffic. He put a hand out towards Richard's shoulder.
"Dude, you don't have to get nervous about it. You swear a blue streak when you're driving. And I get it. It helps you vent your anger. What I have a problem with is when you start swearing at other people."
Richard was cautious in his response, realizing how important it was to be accountable for oneself. However, he felt as though he was being called out on something he was clearly guilty of.
"Um...yeah, I...um."
Jesus smiled slightly and gave him some needed reassurance.
"Dick, take it easy," he began. "It's not personal. I know you have flaws. You 'are' human, right?"
Richard was greatly relieved that he was being spared the embarrassment of a scolding.
"Now, there was Buddha who once said," Jesus continued. "What was it?"
He took several moments to recall the exact words.
"Oh yeah. Being angry at someone is like taking poison and expecting them to die. Do you know what that means?"
Richard hesitated in his answer. As an attorney, his thinking was ruled by logic and until now, deep spiritual thoughts had never been compatible with his personality. But with the changes he was experiencing, a different type of understanding was taking hold. And with this new understanding, the answer given to him by the son of God became crystal clear.
"Um, that means that when we get angry, it only hurts ourselves."
Jesus was pleasantly surprised.
"Dick!" he began. "You're finally getting it! Now, we're getting somewhere."
Hearing this, Richard reached what was obviously a logical conclusion.
"So I guess we should stop swearing, huh?"
"I never said that," Jesus replied. "Honestly, I think there's a place for it. Now, as for myself, I don't roll that way, you know? 'Cause I'm Jesus. You guys just have to remove yourselves from all that anger. Do whatever you need to do to chill out. Try some meditation. Maybe take an anger management class. I mean, you guys do way worse than a little swearing. And really, they're just words. They don't hurt anyone. It's your anger that leads to conflict and that's when people get hurt. But, there is one word that really bugs me and it's not even a swear word. It's a four letter word that's been responsible for millions of deaths."
Richard was stumped. He always equated swearing with not only venting but hostility and violence.
"Give up?" he asked.
A moment passed as Jesus pointed at him and with his thumb also extended up said.
"It's the word 'fire'."
Richard was struck dumb. He had never before considered that any word could be used for the purpose of killing. But, every language possessed at least one word used for the same purpose. Jesus knew that killing was not reliant on the use of any language. He was simply trying to make a point.
"I don't know if there's anything we can do about that," Richards said.
No longer pointing at him Jesus allowed Richard to absorb the point he was trying to make until he finally stated what should have been obvious.
"And that's why you need to change," he said. "You can do it. It's as easy as throwing up and you've been changing for millions of years. You do it all the time, but you still resist it. I mean, I'm the son of God and I can't figure that one out."
"I know we need to change," Richard replied. "I just don't know how we're going to do that. Hey...wait a minute. Did you say millions of years?"
A faint smile came over Jesus's face. He knew this topic would come up eventually.
"Oh, yeah," he replied. "That whole creation business. You guys take it so literally, don't you?"
He turned to Mary who was still enjoying the transcendent effects of Jesus's personal stash.
"See? What did I tell you? They still believe it's true."
Richard was lost. He'd spent a few years going to church as a child and knew the creation story as well as anyone else. And like anyone else, he was told, time and time again that the universe was not born but created, molded by the hands of God. Mary smiled and shrugged her shoulders.
"Dick, really?" Jesus continued. "Look, back in the day, I was a Rabbi. I taught this stuff all the time so take my word for it, it's just a story, okay? All those people who call themselves Christians...they don't understand any of that and the Jews spend their lives studying those first five books. You want to know what those things mean? Ask one of them."
A moment went by as Richard realized that the son of God was 'not' a creationist.
"Hey Dick," Jesus continued. "You don't really believe that story, do you? I mean, you've got an education, right?"
"Well," Richard began. "I guess I never thought about it until now."
Jesus searched himself for a simple way to help Richard understand the meaning beneath the words.
"Okay, do you believe that art mimics life?"
Richard had heard this saying before and had some degree of understanding for its meaning.
"Yes," he answered. "I'm pretty sure I know what it means."
"Alright," Jesus replied. "Let's look at the universe like it's a great masterpiece. Now, it took Michelangelo four years to paint the Sistine Chapel. What does that say?"
Richard spoke hesitantly.
"I guess all great things take time."
Jesus smiled broadly.
"That's right," he replied. "So can the universe be thought of as a work of art?"
Richard was quick in his response.
"Yeah, of course."
"Okay, so if anything beautiful takes time to create, then why wouldn't that idea apply to the universe? Besides, there's something else in that book most people miss, mostly because it conflicts with the creation story. You want to know what it is?"
"Yeah, I'm curious," Richard answered.
"Okay," Jesus began. "It's been a while, so give me a minute."
He'd spent so much of his earthly life teaching from the Torah that its entire contents had become committed to memory.
"Oh yeah," he continued. "To God, a day is like a hundred thousand years and a hundred thousand is like a day. So, if God exists outside of time, where do these six days come from?"
Richard's mind had suddenly become aroused by the need to understand more but at this point, there was one important idea that had not occurred to him. We do not learn by answering the easy questions. We learn by asking the difficult questions.
"So, the creation story really is just a story?”
Jesus nodded with a grin.
"Dick," he began. "As a collection of books, the Bible is well-intentioned, but it's only as rational as the person reading it. Why do you think there are so many religious lunatics out there?"
Richard agreed without hesitation as the conversation took a very different turn.
"I know this sounds like a stupid question," he began. "But what's Satan like?"
"Satan?" Jesus replied. "I always thought that name was a bit dramatic. I just call him Fred."
Richard was surprised that such a notorious character would be known by such a harmless name.
"Trust me," Jesus continued. "He's not what you think he is."
Richard was puzzled by this response. But just as he was about to inquire further he was startled by a voice coming from behind him.
"Hey, JC!" it began. "How's it hanging?"
Jesus rolled his eyes in frustration as two figures stepped out of thin air.
A man and woman, both dressed strangely, walked up behind Richard. One might use the word clownish as an apt description. In spite of his frustration, Jesus took the time for a proper introduction.
"Dick, this is Fred. Fred, Dick."
He stepped up to Richard with a broad toothy smile and quickly grabbing his hand, shook it aggressively.
"Dick," he began. "How's it going?"
Still clasping Richard's hand he turned to Jesus.
"I can see where the nickname comes from."
It seemed that one of Fred's strongest traits was his ability to be rude and making eye contact with Richard completed his insult.
"Nothing personal Dick, but you do have that look."
Richard tried not to let himself be annoyed, in spite of Fred's attempt to harass him. But seeing that Richard was unaffected by his malicious jab, Fred released his hand and stepped back.
"Eh, it was worth a shot," he began. "Don't worry Dick. I can do a lot better than that."
Again, he displayed a wide smile that gave him the appearance of someone who would pat you on the back with one hand and stab you with the other. Fred introduced the woman he arrived with as his wife, Lilith. She was tall, shapely and wore straight jet black hair. Her complexion was a snowy white, offset by fire engine red lipstick. Her body