The coming of Christmas

Opinion

A few hours earlier, at the precise moment when all the paperwork was finally done and dusted and in his hot little hand, Jesus had been a happy Son of God.

The bureaucracy He'd had to go through; the committees He'd had to make submissions unto; the pencil-pushers He'd had to bow and scrape before, just to keep His application moving through the system. He couldn't remember how long it had taken to get this far.

It was certainly hundreds of years but the precise number of hundreds escaped Him. But none of that mattered back then, those scant few hours ago, because all the 'i's had been dotted and all the 't's crossed and the approval had been duly stamped with the official stamp of approval and, finally, the Second Coming was underway. Jesus had rejoiced.

The fact that it was scheduled to take place just before Christmas - which He, just quietly, regarded as His special time of the year - was significant and pleased Him also. But now, as He stood on the corner of Queen and Victoria streets, in downtown Auckland, New Zealand, looking up at the very large Santa Claus who was leering out over the city, Jesus was just confused. What the heck had gone wrong?

The plan He had outlined in his application for reincarnation was simple: pop down to the Middle East, solve the problems of the region, get everyone living together in peace and harmony, then hope the humans didn't muck it up all over again. So why, in heaven's name, had He materialised back on Earth not in downtown Jerusalem, but in a city half a world away? An unhappy Jesus pulled His cellphone out of one of the pockets of His cargo pants and started dialing. The Son of God wanted answers and He wanted them now.

Of course it took a lot longer than "now". It took being transferred around several departments and an interminable time on hold, listening to flamenco versions of The Eagles' greatest hits, before He finally tracked down someone who could give Him an answer. Not that the answer pleased Him upon hearing it.

Because, it transpired, some soon-to-be-unemployed celestial underling in the travel section had mis-read Jesus' intended destination, so that rather than shipping him off to the Middle East, as God intended, he had sent him instead to Middle Earth - which, after he had googled it, seemed to exist c/o New Zealand.

With the patience of many saints, Jesus had explained that Middle Earth was a fictional place, existing only in books and movies that happened to be shot in New Zealand. But, barring a miracle, it would be some time before they could extract Him and start the paperwork for the Third Coming.

Jesus, it seemed, would be stuck in Auckland for Christmas. He wondered for a moment if this counted as irony before deciding that it would only truly be ironic if he'd been stuck in Christchurch. So with a sigh Jesus put his cellphone away and looked around. There were lots of people rushing this way and that, busily doing what people do in December in Auckland - working, shopping, dodging passing showers.

Without a Middle East conflict to resolve, Jesus was at a loose end. He looked up at the giant Santa again and wondered if this qualified as worshipping a false idol. But as everyone was ignoring Santa, He figured it didn't. For a few moments Jesus considered healing some passers-by, just to pass the time in a productive and constructive way. But everyone who happened to be passing-by looked pretty healthy, though some of them could do with losing a few kilos.

In the end, He decided that "The Slimming of the Passing Pedestrians" wasn't really the miracle He was after to announce His return to the world, so He gave up on that idea. He watched the people for a while as they bustled past Him, laden with shopping. And it occurred to Him that in the rush of The Second Coming thing He'd totally forgotten to get Christmas presents for the disciples.

Unforgiveable - even though, strictly speaking, Christmas was His birthday so it was they who should be buying presents for Him. And Jesus resolved, on that street corner, to use His time to buy something nice for each and every disciple.

Maybe an All Black jersey for Bartholomew, some jandals for Thomas and something fishing-related for Simon. And when Jesus strode forth, among those who shopped in his name, He had a calling and a mission - and a shopping list. And all was good with the world.