Call Me Joe

by Martin Van Es

  “Now that,” Sophie said, “is a sight I never imagined I would see.”

  The Pope, the Grand Imam of the Sunnis and the representative Imam of the Shiites, all in their dignified, flowing robes, one in white the others in black, were walking on the sand, deep in conversation with the Archbishop of Canterbury, who was wearing baggy khaki shorts and what looked like a farmer’s checked shirt. The Archbishop also had a rather shapeless fishing hat on his head, but it was obviously an afterthought since his face already looked like it had caught a little too much sun. Around them buzzed coteries of followers, whispering amongst themselves and translating where they could between their leaders.

  Joe waited, the sand not yet too hot to stand on in bare feet, watching their earnest approach. It was a few seconds before one of the assistants spotted him and realised who he was. The others immediately sensed their colleague’s excitement and looked up, shading their eyes against the low sun to try to discern who the figure was that seemed to shimmer in front of them in the morning haze.

  Everyone in the group stopped talking but they continued to walk towards him, slowly because the sand hampered their movements and many of them had an elderly shuffle. As they came close the Pope extended his hand and Joe lowered his head, allowing his lips to brush against the old man’s skin. He then turned to the Imams of the Sunnis and the Shiites and repeated the gesture of respect with each in turn. The Archbishop, apparently flustered by the heat and the many different protocols which were coming together in one unique moment, lunged in for a handshake. Joe took his hand but turned it over and showed the Englishman the same respect as the others. He noticed that the Archbishop’s pulse was rising and he seemed to be having some difficulty catching his breath. Joe placed a calming hand on the old man’s shoulder for a few moments before continuing to move through the whole group with the same gesture of generosity and modesty, causing considerable flutterings of awkwardness amongst those who felt it should be them kissing his hand, not the other way round.

  “I’m so pleased that you all took the time to come here,” he said and Sophie could see that all of them could understand him as if he were speaking simultaneously in all their native tongues. She noticed that some of the followers were making phone calls and sending texts and a few minutes later other figures emerged from the undergrowth, summoned by their phones.

  “Do you have a copy of the guidelines?” Joe whispered to Sophie.

  “In the room,” she said, “I’ll go get them.”

  “Shall we sit?” Joe suggested, pointing to an area where the shade from the palm trees had been supplemented with some thoughtfully placed umbrellas by invisible staff. There were a number of chairs but Joe sat cross-legged on the ground as the others gathered around him. Some of the more elderly members of the group perched on the chairs, while others joined him on the ground, not wanting to appear to be putting themselves above him.

  “I imagine many of you are unsettled by my unannounced arrival amongst you here on Earth,” he said, with a warm smile. A few of them gave almost imperceptible nods of agreement but most remained silent and impassive, waiting to hear what he would say before they voiced their private worries and questions. “But I am here to ask for your help.”

  There was a slight stirring in the group as Sophie returned and slipped Joe the circular piece of wood. He smiled his thanks and indicated that she should sit beside him.

  “The great religions and all the people who have worked for them down the centuries have done a wonderful job of steering mankind towards a better and higher life.” He spoke quietly and some of them had to lean in close to hear him, all of them still able to understand his words in their own languages. “But now it is time to change course because there are still so many divisions. There are not only the divisions between the different religions but also the different nationalities, different races, different generations, different classes, even different genders. Those rivalries, coupled with the greed and selfishness which are instinctive to most men and women, have led mankind to the brink of extinction. If we do not bring everyone together with one common set of goals and beliefs then catastrophe will soon be upon us. We need one set of guidelines which every individual in the world is signed up to, then one set of goals that every individual can work towards.”

  “Is this not what the current Chinese government believes and is working towards already?” the New Celestial Master of Taoism asked.

  “In many ways, yes,” Joe agreed, “but it must be global and must also take account of human rights and freedom. Here” – he passed over the wooden plaque that Sophie had fetched for him – “these are the guidelines I suggest, the new ‘commandments’ if you like.”

  He paused for a moment as they passed it around, turning it in order to follow the spiralling words, reading over one another’s shoulders, exchanging whispers as some translated for their colleagues. Waiters appeared with trays of cold drinks and the Archbishop of Canterbury drained his in one go.

  “So you are saying these will be the new ‘commandments’?” the Pope said eventually, “replacing the ones that we have all been living by for thousands of years.”

  “Well, not exactly,” Joe corrected him. “I prefer the word ‘guidelines’.”

  “Indeed” – the Pope nodded his understanding of the subtle difference – “but still… I notice there is now no mention of instructions such as not killing, not stealing, not committing adultery…”

  “The world now has international and national laws which cover such issues as stealing and killing. I think everyone knows that they are not acceptable and that they are crimes which will be punishable by secular law. Also, if all the other guidelines are absorbed and followed, such as ‘honesty’, ‘kindness’ and ‘do not do to others what you do not want them to do to you’, that covers all violent or dishonest behaviour. If you are obeying those guidelines you will automatically ‘honour your father and mother’ and you automatically avoid ‘covetousness’ and you will not ‘bear false witness’ because you have agreed to be honest in all things.”

  “What about the advice to avoid lewdness?” the Sunni Grand Imam asked. “There is nothing here at all about sexual morality.”

  “For many thousands of years people in authority have tried to control people’s sexual desires,” Joe said, “and it has only led to bitterness and unhappiness and cruelty. Again, such things should be guided by kindness, tolerance and treating others as you would like to be treated. Who are we to decide who other people should love or choose to be with, as long as they don’t hurt other people?”

  The Grand Imam’s advisers leaned in, muttering in his ear and Joe waited to hear what else they would bring up.

  “To many of our followers,” the Pope said quietly and apparently on behalf of all of them, “we are all seen as God’s representatives on Earth. If you are the Son of God, as you claim, then there is no need for us any more…”

  He left his words hanging as they all looked towards Joe. Sophie felt her heartbeat quicken. Was this some sort of veiled threat? Was this the moment when an assassin would appear from the bushes?

  “You have all served God well,” he said eventually, “and he is grateful to you for dedicating your lives to him. But you are still divided. He asks that you now work together to spread his word.”

  “These words?” A Chief Rabbi held up the piece of wood.

  “These words and many more,” Joe said. “These are really just the headlines, if you like. There are many more detailed agreements which need to be accepted by everyone. If you all tell your followers that these are the words of God and that they should now follow them, imagine how much more powerful that united voice will be. Together you will be talking to almost every individual on Earth. Together you will be representing God on Earth far more effectively than you have been able to do separately.

  “I am only visiti
ng. Once I am gone again you will still be my designated representatives on Earth, working alongside the Twelve who I have chosen to lead mankind on its secular path into the future.”

  “What do you suppose would happen if any of us didn’t agree to these guidelines, or didn’t wish to amalgamate with every other religion?” the Archbishop of Canterbury asked, lifting his hat to dab the sweat from his brow which was now a deep red.

  “If everyone does not work together in this way, then the world, as mankind has known it, will soon end. Then you will be the leaders of nothing, representing no one and God will know that you had an opportunity to save the Earth but declined to accept it.”

  There was a sharp intake of breath amongst the group, their automatic response to the feeling that it was now they who were being threatened in some way. Joe seemed unperturbed by the possibility that he had offended them.

  “It is not going to be easy,” he continued. “I understand that. Some people will have to re-think many of the prejudices that have been passed down to them over the millennia. The Catholics, for instance, will have to reconsider their position on matters such as the celibacy of priests, the ordaining of women priests and the encouragement of contraception, but I understand there have already been movements in the right direction.”

  A number of heads were nodding cautiously among the Pope’s followers.

  “If you could all agree on these guidelines as a start, it will unite almost everyone on the planet and provide a basis for a future global education programme, with the aim of persuading every individual to agree to the same guidelines. When the guidelines lead to a better world for all who could possibly be against them?”

  The Sunni Grand Imam stood up with surprising speed for a man of his age.

  “You are asking too much – whoever you are.”

  Without another word he swept away towards the restaurant area, followed by his entourage, some of whom were obviously nervous about showing disrespect to Joe, feeling torn in their loyalties. One by one the other leaders followed his example.

  “That went well,” Sophie said with a wry smile once they were alone.

  “He’s right. I am asking a lot,” Joe smiled. “But they will come round. Have faith, Sophie. Shall we go for breakfast?”

  “I love your optimism,” she said, shaking her head as she got up to follow him.

  “Faith, optimism; maybe they are the same thing…” Joe paused and held his arm out to her. “I need to give that some thought.”

  Thirty-Six

  Never before had so much satellite time been concentrated on one small speck in the Pacific Ocean.

  “He wants what?” The American President wasn’t sure that he had heard correctly.

  “He wants all the leaders of the major religions and philosophies to agree with one another on one set of behavioural guidelines which will unite all their followers,” the Director of Security said again.

  The President fell silent for a few minutes, trying to get his head around such a radical concept.

  “He wants the Sunnis and Shiites, the Catholics and the Pentecostals, the Orthodox Jews and the Liberal Jews, the Hindus and the Buddhists, and all the rest of them to get together and form one giant religion?”

  “Not exactly, but he does want them all to work together to get mankind back on the right track.”

  “What right track? We’re on the right track, aren’t we? Are we talking wind turbines and solar panels and climate change bullshit here? Is that what we’re talking about?”

  “I believe changes in energy policy are part of the secular plan, but I think it is a bigger and broader canvas than that.”

  “This is just mischief-making, right? This guy is just trying to stir up trouble, trying to get control of everything. Who’s paying him? What’s their angle?”

  “His followers would say he is trying to bring people together in a common cause,” the Director pointed out. “They would say that it’s the world’s politicians and business people who are the mischief-makers, trying to cause divisions and spread suspicion and hate, trying to extract profit from every human transaction. So far we have not been able to trace any money coming to him from anywhere. Yung Zhang and her friends are paying his living expenses, but that seems to be the extent of it. He doesn’t even have a bank account or a credit card – nothing.”

  “Communists!” the President slammed his fist on the desk, making everyone in the office jump as it always did. “The same damn communists as before coming back in through the back door! Can we just bomb the damn island while they’re all on it?”

  “I think that would be a war crime, sir,” the Director fidgeted nervously, aware that the President was not joking.

  “We’re not at war with them!” The President was obviously pleased to score a debating point for once. “So how can it be a war crime?”

  “Just a common or garden crime then, sir.”

  “We could blame the Israelis.”

  “A Chief Rabbi is on the island, so I don’t think anyone would believe that.”

  “Dammit!”

  *****

  “He wants to unite everyone?” the Russian President was equally perturbed by the same information, but quieter in his responses. “All the religions?”

  “It would seem so, sir,” his Security Chief replied.

  “Are they agreeing to that?”

  “Not yet, sir.”

  “Do we have any influence over anyone on this island?”

  “Not at the moment, sir.”

  “It would not be to our advantage for all of them to be united; you do understand that, right?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “It is harder to persuade people to do what we want if they are all united,” he spat the final word out like it was poison. “If they are all talking to each other it will make our job much more difficult. Do we know what the Chinese think?”

  “The Chinese are very much in favour of uniting their people, sir. They like the idea of harmony. Their system has been praised on the island.”

  “He’s praising the Chinese?” The President’s eyebrows shot up.

  “With some reservations, sir.”

  “The Americans? What are they thinking?”

  “Apparently the President favours bombing the island.” The Security Chief gave a small smile, which his president returned.

  “He has gone public with that?”

  “No, sir, we heard it from a source at the White House.”

  “That would certainly cause some divisions. Perhaps we should provide some encouragement for the idea.”

  “I believe he has been talked out of it, sir, at least for the moment.”

  “Shame,” the President laughed with apparently genuine amusement. “Keep me informed.”

  Thirty-Seven

  “You have to understand, Joe,” the Archbishop of Canterbury, who seemed to be having increasing trouble catching his breath, spoke slowly. He had an avuncular tone to his voice which made Joe smile. “You have done tremendously well to persuade so many of us to come all this way for a meeting of this sort, but you are talking to people who are steeped in holy scriptures and texts which are thousands of years old and which they are expressly forbidden to reinterpret. Those teachings have proven their worth over those centuries, despite being attacked and questioned from many sides. You are asking us to throw all that away and start again?”

  “I think the point is exactly that; they were all written thousands of years ago,” Joe said. His voice was calm and reasonable. He was aware that if he was too confrontational he would get nowhere. He had to allow time for the intelligence of these great men to take in the message that he was giving them and to see the sense in what he was suggesting.

  At least they had all returned to the beach after breakf
ast to hear more, which seemed encouraging to him, even if their manner was frosty and distracted in some cases.

  “Much of what is written in the holy books is now known not to be literally true, and much of it is now actually harmful to mankind and the planet.”

  There was another hiss of shock and several of the more junior members of the party actually moved forward as if about to make the discussion physical. The seniors all put out restraining hands to indicate that they did not need to be protected from Joe’s opinions.

  “You are all on the same side,” Joe continued evenly. “You are all on God’s side. You just have different words for things and you have had different traditions and rules made up and handed down over the years; all of them are differences that are too trivial for God to even consider. But you all want people to live in peace. You all want people to be kind to one another. You all want people to look after the planet and one another. All of you believe that personal greed and selfishness is harmful at every level. There is nothing on that list of guidelines that any of you would fundamentally dispute.”

  He paused for a second and nobody else took the opportunity to speak up.

  “God is asking for your assistance, gentlemen, and he understands how much he is asking of you. He wants you now to realise that you are all on the same side and that all the historical differences between you, most of which are trivial in his eyes – have to end if mankind is to survive. He is asking you to work together, under the guidance of my twelve wise apostles, to save all your flocks from imminent extinction.”

  “How does God feel about having his name taken in vain?” one of the cardinals asked.

  “And being depicted in graven images,” an Imam added.

  “God is not without a sense of humour,” Joe assured them. “He gets the jokes. Really, he does.”

  “So what are you hoping to achieve with your twelve apostles?” the Chief Rabbi enquired.