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The tale of the Pope and the Rabbi

de (5-2-2007)

Time is a present running endlessly ahead and behind, behind and ahead and only the One eternal all encompassing, omniscient and omnipotent Lord knows why people are the way they are and hardly understand each other.
This tale tells of the time when people everywhere were looking towards reconciliation, which, as always, was almost impossible.
It was the year 2050.
The Apocalypse of mankind is one (naturally, there are now several Apocalypses, weighing as much as a tooth ache, or animal rights, or the eradication of cancer etc.), yes-yes, a single and tremendously important one:
how to reconcile the Christians and the Jews – and do they have a single God, a single Redeemer (for the Buddhists were mild and impartial, the Muslim quibbled over the rights to Mohammed, and Allah was just another name for God – as for the rest, they were but swarming particles turning aimlessly left, then right, o, definitely, the people of Hinduism …yes, nice people, no special demands, so are the Taoists… well, there you are…)?
The year 2050, then.
And world tension had risen to an unbearable pitch.
The great world powers decide to have a summit meeting. Yes, of course, who was to meet?
Well, the Pope and the Rabbi.
At hearing the news, the nations of the world became restless and frantic, verging on madness – international. Already grown as many as the sands of the seas, people thought:
‘There, the hour of the Apocalypse is come, it’s now or never! It’s now or there will be no standing stone left in the world!’
And all – absolutely all thought like that, for, you see, the Christians and the Jews held the knife and the bread…
Well, at last, they decided to have the meeting on Easter Island. Many were relieved, for, there you have it, they had chosen a common and somewhat neutral name and place. They both celebrated and made merry at Easter time.
The big planetary event was called ‘Anno Domini’, and why not? It had been so perfectly organized that everything was paid off of donations and sponsorships, naturally with minimum but due advertising.
Well, the day came at last – with a capital, gigantic D.
A non-descriptive, neutral date in the calendar. They had carefully seen to that.
The whole world was overwhelmed with one indescribable passion, one single vibration, one fantastic tension.
So many people had gathered on the island, that the more nervous started worrying that the patch of land might sink into the ocean.
Every inhabitant of the Earth, nay, of the Universe, could watch it. It was broadcast everywhere. Platinum disks had been prepared to record the meeting in all known languages, a billion-copy bestseller.
Well, there they were:
The Pope and the Rabbi.
Alone in front of the cameras (working on remote control) in a room like the cell of a desert hermit.
The Pope – as we’ve always known him to be. Venerable and wise.
The Rabbi – as we’ve always known him to be. Wise and venerable.
The Pope says something.
The Rabbi also says something.
A stupefying moment. They speak different languages.
The Pope tries again.
The Rabbi too.
The same result.
Suddenly, they start talking at the same time. Useless.
Silence falls and the planet with its entire human population is trembling with intensity. Seismographs register the quaking. Low on the scale, fortunately.
Well, they both smile.
They both make the same gesture, at the exact same time: appeasing, mitigating, arms and palms wide open.
O.K.: the primordial language – signs.
After inviting each other for a while, finally it is the Pope who starts, for reasons known by the two men alone.
The Pope raises three fingers of his right hand. The Rabbi immediately responds by raising his index. The Pope makes a wide gesture with his hands drawing a sphere. The Rabbi taps the table with his index. The Pope sighs, picks up a loaf of bread with one hand and a chalice of red wine with the other. The Rabbi smiles and holds out an apple in his open palm.
Silence again. You could hear a fly buzz across the whole planet.
Well, the Pope goes and shouts in Latin:
‘I have seen the light! Let there be peace among ourselves! Peace be with you! Peace be with the Earth!’
For a few moments everyone is dumb with amazement.
Then start the cheers, and the laughing and the crying, and then the cheers again from the whole of mankind. It was as if an unknown electric current ran through the whole of mankind and, naturally, the broadcast is ended. After all, once this epoch-making message has been delivered, who is there left to watch the screens, big or small, who cares about the Pope or the Rabbi?
And still…
And still, like mutant piranhas, that is, driven mad by the smell of blood not only in the water, but in the air, on the ground, in the cosmic void, everywhere, literally everywhere, the journalists felt it… they felt it and flung themselves on savagely…
The Pope is surrounded from all sides. The questions bite at him, the microphones stab him, the cameras suck his picture. The Rabbi is no better. That is, he cannot escape. And where is one to hide on that small island, crowded as it is and ready to sink under the weight of so many people?
Eventually, the Pope points his rod at the heavens and shouts with authority, though slightly hysterical:
‘Enough! Quiet!!!’
So there is finally silence. What happened?
‘Well, I showed the Rabbi three fingers – the Holy Trinity, right? He showed me one finger – there is only one God. Fair enough. Then I gestured to him that God is everywhere in the Universe. He cut me short: God is here, with us, now. Fair enough. Then I presented to him the Holy Eucharist, the Mystery of Mysteries, communing of our Lord’s body and blood. The Rabbi was prompt to reply. He presented to us the symbol of the original sin and the lost Paradise. Fair enough. So, there you have it, my sons and daughters, there is Peace on Earth! Fair enough.’
At the core of another whirlpool of mutant piranhas, the Rabbi is speaking calmly, with a magic smile:
‘Oy-oy, my children, what is there not to understand? The Pope’s first mime I answered simply: there aren’t three ways, how can there be three ways? There is only one way, just one.
Then, to the second mime: why take all the time in the world to solve this problem? Let’s do it now, there’s plenty more to be done! The third was really simple: he offered me his lunch, I offered him mine and before I could tell what happened, it all ended… well. There you have it,reconciliation, peace, everything is all right.’
Instantly, the journalists spread the words of the two venerable wise men in all four horizons of this world. And the Earth shines with joy. On the crowded island, they all embrace and rejoice in the ‘Carnival 2050’ which spontaneously infects the whole of mankind, later to be held every second year for who knows how long, maybe more than 2050 years!
In any case, starting with the year 2050, global peace is ensured for at least another 2050 years. At least, statistics would have it that way. Small apocalypses, like toothaches, the eradication of cancer, and animal rights will gradually and naturally be solved.
On their own.
***
(From:
THE BOOK of THEOPHIL MAGUS
or 40 TALES about MAN
© Copyright 2003, Leonard Oprea.
All rights reserved.
Ed. by “AuthorHouse”,2003, USA /available on amazon.com, barnes&noble.com, google.com)
***

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