A Severely Abridged And Altogether Compromised History Of Christianity

Forty-two generations of royalty and none less, preceded the most conscientious shepherd in recorded history, Jesus of Nazareth (yes, that’ll be him, the son of God, the salvation of greeting cards). Jesus, contrary to his regal origins, was born to a carpenter, Joseph, and his estranged wife, Mary, in a manger, beneath open skies, and a particularly shining star. Mary, curiously enough, was a virgin (as in every possible sense of the word) when Jesus was conceived. The idea may even seem beyond natural, but then, Jesus was not ordinary either - the Gospel according to Saint Matthew claims that Mary ‘was found with child of the Holy Ghost’. Jesus, was indeed the son of the Almighty, just as Joseph was told in his sleep by an angel (must have been quite a revealing, and relieving, dream).

Jesus Christ, as he was christened (mild wordplay, and an outright pun) later, and for ever from thereafter, was always surrounded by curious coincidences and mysterious miracles; to the extent that he had enough evidence to preach the existence of a Holy Father, and so very nearly enough to be believed; but just about very nearly (he was crucified - after all.) But, even with many doubts concerning his birth, his fidelity, his mortality, his death, and his eventual resurrection, there are no misgivings that Jesus was indeed extraordinary. He might not even have had the divinity he has always been attributed with (which, although, would disregard the majority of religious doctrine accepted by the West, and underplay at least three other religions confined to similarly disposed mythological circumstances) but there can be no doubts whatsoever - Christ wasn’t just another man, he was the Man.

However, apart from his paranormal (if doubted) lineage, what Jesus had for certain were mindnumbingly effective networking skills. He’s reputed to have been remarkably polite, soft-spoken, and rather charming. For some reason, he was slightly more popular with the ladies, although, most of his primary apostles were men. He was a common man by birth, performing uncommon feats, for an even commoner man. The exponential increase of his popularity should have the recently constituted paparazzi (a medium of promoting liberal expression, not discovered until late in the 20^th century) in raptures of scandalous delight; while the mysterious circumstances of his death and undeath (only for the want of a word so specifically oriented) would be enough to reconsider the very confines of his mortality, and a resurrection later, of his reach to the further beyond.

Why but, did Jesus seem so appealing to the masses? He could have possibly patented the warm and fuzzy effect his sermons had on people, well, most people (but infringement of intellectual rights wasn’t really troublesome, preaching another religion to apparently overthrow the government was; more about that later) Jesus, was unbelievably affectionate, and there was an overwhelming sense of compassion in everything he would say, and do. That he must have been intrinsically incapable of indiscrimination, is without doubt evident from his willingness to treat and cure the ailments of everyone, and anyone in suffering, or need. He was, as an instance of his indisputable benevolence, sympathetic even towards those who ordered and carried out his crucifiction.

And yet, despite his many virtues, and no other vices but for unwavering faith in his God, he was crucified. Apprehended for inciting the masses and promoting civic unrest, he was betrayed to the authorities by a disgruntled disciple, was bargained for against a murderer and found guilty on account of being a trickster and a magician, but mostly a threat to the religious sanction (and the lack thereof) already existing. With a crown of thorns upon his head, he was paraded before his people, flanked by soldiers he walked carrying a wooden cross much larger than his own frail body. Eventually he was nailed to the cross, which was then driven into the ground, his tortured body publicly exhibited, while he was slowly but surely drifting closer to death. He died, and sometime later, he didn’t.

A mildly Hindustaani man (with references to my nation, my culture, and religion) would probably have not been writing this, even severely abridged and altogether compromised, history of Christ and Christians and Christianity, if Jesus had indeed left his earthly abode right then. Which is not saying that he didn’t die, because the fact of the matter is, as I am now almost entirely convinced of, is that he didn’t die because he simply couldn’t. He but had to almost certainly die to prove a point. He was mortal whilst he lived amongst us, he always had the divine grace, undoubtedly; but he died, because he believed that he would do everything he possibly could to show us (and, them, then) the errors of our ways. And, so, he died; but then, he returned to his mourning disciples, and gave them hope.

I would be inconveniently fundamental, if I were to further elucidate upon the history of a wonderful religion, unnecessarily assuming that we know any less about Christianity than we do about Hinduism, or for that matter, any religion cradled in the reaches of being. As to why I even bothered, is because a standard Indian’s accepted perception of Christianity remains confined only to that gazetted holiday on Christmas. A big, fat, and usually, jolly man in swatches of red and white advertises the idea of an alien culture to everybody who can afford to spare the time, money, and patience; and hence do we run into the arms of a foreign religion, embracing the tenets like childhood friends; so due to nothing more than naivety, we become more secular over segregated, more coupled over cohesive - diverse, yes, but not entirely divided.

This piece germinated sometime ago, when a certain state in the Indian subcontinent may have almost witnessed a contemporary crusade, but for the government’s response, which was deferred, and ill-suited; not to even barely mention, within the constitutional confines of the world’s largest secular democracy. Do we, proud denizens of the 21st century, find ourselves unable to much less allow than even appreciate the coexistence of religions? As much as I try to insist upon our severe lack of compassion, there are those who might still unearth bones of contention from the ends intended, and the means adopted thereof. Why, for instance, did I have to discount Christianity over any other religion, and inscribe what every child should, and must already know? And along a similar premise, why did I have to write only about Christ, and not the Prophet Muhammad, or Guru Gobind Singh?

To these questions, and to those who feel they need the answers thereof, I can only wish I could make myself more comprehensible. However the contents of my reply shall remain undisclosed, due to the anatomically graphic nature of. You get the general idea. Amen.

By:

Sarthak Prakash