Jack the Bastard, a Short Heterodoxy

After Jesus the Christ, Jack the Bastard was God’s favorite son. This, you can no doubt imagine, caused the angels a great deal of consternation, because everything that God had promised and lauded through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus was mocked and flouted by the immortal life of Jack.

“When the universe goes, so goes Jack,” said God, “the Deeper Magic will not be broken.” “But, “said the angels, “in the meantime he’s fucking everything up for the Little Lowers.” “The Little Lowers,” said God, “could stand some good fucking up. My only begotten son paid everyone’s fare. They’re all on the train whether they will it or no. My misbegotten son shouldn’t needs be shamed for picking their pockets while they ride.” Jesus, for his part, was mum on the issue. Eternity was large and the inheritance of the good son. The prodigal could spend his portion as he wished.

The debate raged on in the antechamber of eternity as they all sat waiting dressed in their finest for the trumpet to blow and the train to approach and the bride to arrive. God would often turn to his oldest and dearest friend for support. “Lou,” he’d say, “have you considered my bastard, Jack?” “You know,” said Lou, “it’s confusing when you call him that. It makes you appear the irrepressible philanderer instead of the prudish old hermit that you are.” “Yes,” said God with a distracted smile, “he rather does cast me in a whole new light.” Lou would sigh then. “You always do seem to miss the point,” he’d say. The other angels were always rather offended by God’s doting on Lou. It was as if he’d never been the horrible asshole that he had been. Jesus, always the mediator, would take them aside and remind them in his firm and quiet way, “all is forgiven; all is forgiven; all is forgiven.” They were quite chastened by this, because if Jesus could forgive Lou, anybody could. Jack, however, they felt free to argue about. He had no place in this cosmic scheme of freedom and redemption. He required neither permission nor forgiveness, and the exact nature of his will God refused to divulge. “It’s because even he doesn’t know,” Lou would say. This would set the angels all atwitter, but God would just laugh and clap Lou on the back. “Ha! You ol’ son of bitch,” God would say, “you ol’ son of a bitch!” “Which casts certain suspect assertions onto you,” Lou would retort. And this would just make God laugh harder.

It was a long time that they waited in the antechamber, and sometimes they would wander over to the gate to have a smoke and peek up over the top to watch the reception in the courtyard. Everyone found it unsettling except for God, Jesus and HG. They being the only ones that had any experience at three-in-one. It was especially unsettling if, as they turned to toss their butts into the street, they happened to see themselves approaching on the train. “Don’t worry about it,” said God, “you’ll get the hang of it at the wedding.” Though no one doubted him, they all agreed that it was pretty fucked up.

There was a rumor that circulated among the guests that since Jack and HG had never been seen to appear in the same place at the same time, they were actually the same person, like Clark Kent and Superman. No one really believed it, reasoning that coincidence was the better explanation, but it was something to talk about that passed the time. When asked about it, HG said, “All of eternity is but one day. We in the morning mourn for the night before that never was. In the afternoon, we will wait through the dry heat for the bride to arrive. In the evening, we celebrate the wedding, forgetting the night that will never come.” Everyone had a good laugh at that, and even somber old HG had to admit that it was a pronouncement that better suited the conditions of the cramped train than the airy antechamber. When he was asked, Jack the Bastard just laughed, but then Jack was always laughing anyway. It was why, after Jesus, God loved him best.