that, if the divine plan succeeds, then you, Michael are the person the Santinians have chosen. However you already know that. But what you do not know yet is: You are me, and I will be you.”
Michael pressed the pause button and gazed up from the laptop. He let his gaze sweep through the window over the roofs of Jericho. Now what was that supposed to mean? Why am I Joshua? What did he mean by that? What was the point of all of this? Michael was in turmoil. His soul was in commotion. Despite this great restlessness he took a big sip of tea and continued watching the film.
“I am placing all of my hopes in you, for the true events about Jesus are too important than that they might be allowed to be lost forever. Already in my lifetime I experienced how easily records were falsified and how recklessly many people dealt with the truth. I was a scribe in my time and was occupied nearly from morning to night with that. There should be four papyrus scrolls in front of you, one larger and three smaller, as well as three parchment scrolls. The papyrus scrolls show my life, while the parchment scrolls are the eternal teachings of Jesus. His scrolls are considerable more important than mine, perhaps even more significant than any records that exist hitherto in your time, for Jesus wrote these scrolls personally. The words of Jesus, saviour of all human souls, are to be found in these scrolls. However perhaps also the original film-recordings of the Santinians will convince you and many people, since the preference for viewing moving images will be on the rise in your time, whereas the willingness to read will be in decline, as the Santinians have informed me. I wish you and your soul a deep recognition. I am Joshua, a friend of Jesus.”
Michael paused briefly, pressed the pause button of his laptop. Could this truly be? He took a licorice. Was it possible that original writings of Jesus could be right here in front of him? Why did this Joshua seem so familiar? Was he really right? And if yes, then he must have already lived before. His girlfriends Susanne had told him this again and again and also given proof for the reincarnation. He just had never taken her seriously.
Michael stretched out for a moment and started the film again.
“I would like to begin my narrative on the day, when Rachel and I... yes, see for yourself. You will not regret it, for the events that follow now have the power to change you and your life. I am aware that not many have the opportunity to be so closely befriended with a person who did not come from this world and yet was more human than all other humans. I know that this person will be a very well known personality in your time. I doubt that there will ever be a more exact description of the life of this man. After all you will be seeing original recordings of the Santinians, and I never noticed any other scribe such as myself who would have written down the life of Jesus and his teachings. Unfortunately not many people knew how to write in those days. Actually almost none did. And those who could write did not want to follow the life of Jesus, but rather try their hand as merchants. Believe me, that which you now hold in your hands is unique and precisely documented. After all Jesus was my best friend and also my life, as I now know.
What I now want to tell you began on the day when ....”
The Blue-Eyed One
3 B.C. according to the common calendar
“Eeny, meeny mice, who has lice? Eeny, meeny moo, and lice have you! Joshua, you are Jacob, and I am the Lord.”
“Why does it have to be you, Simeon? You always want to be the Lord. You always only want to be the catcher.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yes it is. You always want to be the Lord.”
“Who cares, I simply am. Rachel, tie the cloth around Joshua’s eyes already. Get going.”
Joshua was angry. This idiot Simeon always had to act the big shot. It was not enough for him to constantly put Joshua down, he also had to declare himself ruler and decision maker for the girls.
Rachel approached him with the cloth. Now all grumbling was forgotten. Joshua liked Rachel and enjoyed it when she bound his eyes with the dirty rag.
“Rachel“, he whispered, “don’t let it get to you, Simeon is only a dumb Zealot. He can’t help it.” Both of them had to giggle.
The alleyways of Nazareth were always firmly in the hand of the children on afternoons. Most of the time they played ‚Jacob and the Lord’, since it was the favorite game of Simeon, and Simeon was the nearly undisputed King if the children in the village. Bigger than the others, no one dared to take him on. Except Joshua. He could still remember that day a couple of months ago very well, when he and Simeon had fought. There had not been a clear winner then, but a proud one. Since then Joshua had a scar on his left cheek. Simeon had injured him with a knife at the end of the fight. The running blood had ended the fight. He could still remember well how the girls then descended on him and gave him the attention befitting a hero. Simeon on the other hand was awarded with a beating from his father shortly after. Nonetheless Joshua enjoyed playing with the children now and then since he normally had to be learning and studying the torah in the house of his father around this time. For his father Samuel, the rabbi of the small village, did not like it when he played in the dust with other kids and wandered about. Especially not with Simeon, the brute, as he always tended to say. But Samuel disliked it even more, when Joshua played catch with the girls among the green hills of Nazareth.
Joshua had to obey and learn to be calm, for his father had ordained that he would become a scribe later on. For then he would be respected man, would serve the faith of his forefathers and would also never have to worry about his future.
However today Joshua had gotten away to play with the other children, for the rabbi was far far away in Sepphoris to meet with some folks who had journeyed there all the way from Jerusalem. Joshua had heard much about Sepphoris, but had never been there himself.
Eyes bound, Joshua stood in the middle of the largest alleyway and waited for Rachel to give him the sign to go ahead. Since the cloth also covered his ears, he could not hear much and waited quietly for his turn. However there was no sign. Only the wind grew stronger and stronger, until it turned into a storm that swirled up dust and fears and tormented his body as if with many little pinpricks. The children screamed and yelled as they fled. Joshua would have normally also quickly ran home, for like all other children he was afraid of sandstorms. They were all warned and taught about the dangers of these forces of nature and the demons dwelling in them. However today he remained standing and calmly pulled the cloth from his eyes. All of the kids had disappeared, only Rachel was still next to him and watched the happening with him. The storm became so strong that both of the children had to seek shelter behind a hut. They put their hands in front of their eyes, for the storm was raging and hurt. It felt as if the demons were playing one of their games with the people again. His father always said that only the Messiah could protect people from the demons.
Oh, couldn’t the Messiah come soon? By now he also knew what a Messiah was. After all his father spoke ever more often of the pressing need of the Jewish people for a Messiah, a saviour. He, Joshua, also was urgently awaiting him. The Messiah would surely rescue him from the relentless strictness of his father and from that boaster Simeon.
“Joshua, look. There are some people coming up the path. They were in the middle of the storm. They survived the demons“, Rachel shouted excitedly in order to come up against the howling of the wind. Only then did he realize that he once again had passage from the torah in front of his inner eye.
“I don’t see anything. Where?”
“Are you blind? There behind the house of Zephaniah.”
Joshua pinched his eyes together in order to recognize the new arrivals at the entrance to the village. Yes, Rachel was right. Who could that possibly be? They were not Romans, although their soldiers rode through Nazareth often in these days. His father was not supposed to be back till evening and did not own a donkey. For now, as the figures approached, he discerned a man leading a large donkey on which a woman sat.
“Who is it, Rachel?”
“I