The Jesus Syndrome

A man professes to be Jesus the son of god, is he a fake or is there more to his claim. 'A thought provoking story'

THE JESUS SYNDROME

 

Before the initial interview I had only heard of the Jesus Syndrome through some medical debates that had managed to get summarised and published in the Selective Mind Newsletter, a bi-monthly compendium which was issued around most of the psychoneurotic practitioners, (a small group of specialist psychiatrists dealing with unusual irrational people) of whom I am one.

 

The Phone Call

This particular case intrigued me more so than any other I had dealt with in my thirty year career as Head Psychiatrist associated with St. Constantine’s College Hospital, which was a vast teaching institute situated on the perimeter of Washington’s General Medical Agency.   Infamous figures have graced these walls, Charles Manson, Ronald Defoe of the Amityville Horror murders, who was a subsequent star portrayed in book and film.  

 

Most recently Jeffery Dahmer a Milwaukee chocolate factory worker convicted of murdering 17 people with some of their remains still in his fridge.   What is the prevalent factor linking all these murderers and the Jesus Syndrome I hear you ask, well it is of my opinion that as they all believed voices controlled their decisions and instructed them to carry out such devious crimes so too the condition of any multi-personality sufferer or bipolar individual believes they too are also who they contrive to be.   The most common being Napoleon Bonaparte, who always promotes an opinion be it joke or jibe.   This one was different, where the urban dictionary concludes, and I quote, the combination of complexes and dogmatic teachings that create a pathetic personality process that makes the person feel they are ‘Jesus Like’ in the way the world should view them and as they view themselves, unquote.      Our patient believes he IS Jesus and claims he IS Two Thousand and Forty Years Old.

 

My colleague, Dr Beluxvue discovered him in an Israeli sanatorium whilst on a Middle East Tour, apparently he had been their oldest inhabitant, in fact the physician in charge stated that he had been confined since he had taken up his post, he was also unsure just how long he HAD lived there.   Records of all residents prior to his appointment had been destroyed in a rocket attack.   Beluxvue described him to me in a phone call he had made during his visit and to be honest at first I was hesitant about getting involved in what I thought was a mundane case but John was adamant that he was special.  

 

The conversation nearly developed into a full blown debate, ‘John, he is a prototypical Jesus Syndrome sufferer’.  I protested, ‘there is no indication to believe otherwise, forget him!  ‘Listen Travis, this guy is not paradigmatic, sure his hair is long and white, he has a white beard and looks around a hundred years old but get this, during our interview he leant forward and dipped his finger into my water glass’ I sighed and rolled my eyes jokingly, I responded ‘Okay John don’t tell me he turned your water into wine’   ‘Travis, he paused, ‘he sure as s**t did’.   ‘Don’t bull me John I ain’t in the mood’ years of crap had made me dogmatic and cynical I hated the baggage that came with all these nut cases, but John persuaded me to meet this guy who called himself Jehovah.   ‘Okay, Okay, bring him here and I’ll talk to him, but I can tell you now he is somehow tricking you John, he has manipulated the situation to gain liberty but remember this is under duress’.   John agreed and set the wheels in motion, the interview was set for June 3^rd two weeks from today.

 

The Interview June 3^rd 1989 8.30 a.m.

 

His back was to me as I entered the room; his long white robe was matted with dirt along its ragged edges, and what looked like faded blood stains peppered the almost fragmented cloth.   I remember thinking, at least he looks the part, from behind anyway, he never turned as I approached.   Instead he held his head steady, and omitted a low hum that sounded like an ancient prayer or chant.

 

His eyes were closed; his face was faded and lined with age, leathery and tanned.   Long white hair pendulant and thin hung unevenly to his shoulders.   A frail off white goatee beard, well cropped embroidered his stately chin.   I estimated his height at six foot.

 

I sat down quietly behind the table that bridged us taking care to unfold my notes while Jehovah continued his personal meditation, his incantation reminded me of a lingua I had heard before, was this a deception solely for my attention, this question begged an answer.  ‘Hebrew?’ I queried.   Immediately his recitation ceased his eyes opened, stunningly blue.   He let a faint smile compose across his ancient expression; gently he spoke his voice discerning.    ‘Over the years Dr Travis Nightingale I have learned to speak English’.   I replied without wavering ‘Your invocation Jehovah, to which God do you petition to?’ to me this was a feint question.   ‘Which answer would you like?’ he asked benevolent in his demeanour.  

 

 ‘If I say Jesus the Lord God, Saviour of Mankind will I condemn myself as mad, or I am the Father, Son and the Holy Spirit again you will disbelieve I cannot prevail you have already determined before we spoke that I was a charlatan’.   Unfazed I continued, ‘If in fact you are who you say you are, and you profess to be Two Thousand and Forty years old, explain to me how this is possible?’   ‘Your mind Travis has been faded by logic, do not children believe in fairies and Father Christmas, entities that are no more mythical than me, the answer, I am immortal’.

 

Logic had indeed clouded my mind, these long years I have relied much more on science than my religion, physics has rules, certainties.   Theology bestows faith, this is what this person has moulded his life upon, is it that simple?   ‘My answer Travis, it perplexes you?’   His voice rounded soft in the room’s silence.   ‘It is the only logical answer is it not?’   ‘Prove to me that you are Jesus’ I asked, hoping to swipe away his arrogance.   His demure did not alter at my request instead he countered ‘prove that I am not’.   I pretend to consult my notes but in reality I was searching my mind for a question that would ultimately shatter his charade, but while it eluded me he broke the tranquillity again.

 

‘It has been quite some time since you felt the need for prayer and serenity within the faith Travis, has it not?’   Stunned at his reveal my voice faltered as I endeavoured to respond ‘how could you know that?’ I asked.   ‘I have always been aware of all my children and conditions of their souls, yours is a deep grey Travis, not black like the evil that has passed through these corridors, their benevolence is still strong, it eats at you and makes you weak, take my hands and I will help you’.   Only at that moment as he raised them did I see the stigmata, I was transfixed.   Slowly I dropped my vision to his feet; there too he bore the mark of crucifixion.   Unconsciously my hands had moved to meet his, a warmth of ebullition flowed up my arms and enveloped my body, the sensation unbearable but addictive.   A feeling of contentment more intense than I had ever experienced before.   Was this a fallacy of the same trickery used on John to change his water to wine, or, God Forgive me, then he is either a healer or who he claims to be.   Then like an electric shock it ceased, the recoil shot me back into my chair and left my head spinning.

 

The Conclusion

 

‘What just happened’ I asked, he said nothing, merely sat delicately smiling.   ‘Where have you lived for 2000 years?   How have you lived?   Make me believe you!’  

‘Among ordinary men, and with God’s Grace Travis’.   I slammed my fist upon the table ‘Grace does not feed you, put clothes on your back, render warmth in winter, explain how you have survived?’   He did not waver at my accretion in manner instead continued his staid.   ‘Simple Travis, faith!’ his eyes shone with a heavenly light.   ‘After my crucifixion, I did not die, merely fell into a catalepsy that simulated the look of death, for two nights I lay in the tomb in which Mary and my mother had placed me.   When on the Sunday I awoke, I pushed the stone away and stepped out into the morning sunshine’.   ‘This is when you met Mary Magdalene?’   ‘Yes, but before our encounter I came to find a gardener who was tending the flowers, he borrowed me some robes for I was naked’.   ‘And with Mary, what was the conversation?’ I asked hoping to catch him in a lie.   ‘At first she was frightened, she believed me to be a spirit, but when she touched me and found me human she was gladdened, we kissed and sat in the shade.   We talked at length, it was then agreed that she should inform Matthew and Mark, whilst talking some women passed by and it was obvious by their reaction that they had recognized me.   Mary was fearful that they would inform some soldiers that were near by so we hurried away’.

 

The Decision

 

Jehovah continued his story well into the afternoon, some accounts he gave contradicted the bible and the gospels, but I concluded that those who were not present would in fact speculate and therefore discrepancies are bound to exist.   He told me that after his meeting with the Apostles a plan was devised that he should be kept at a secret location until all the rumours about him had died down, it was agreed that he would stay in hiding for a year.   The ascension to heaven was just a rouse to dispel his existence after his death.   It was meant to finally allow him to retreat into a reclusive living.  

 

‘Did it work?’ I asked and to this he gave a resounding deep laugh that seemed totally out of his character.   ‘You know the answer to that Travis, everyone does, it worked only too well, and the evidence of my eremitic life has spawned a religion’.   ‘People worship you, is that not what you desired?’   His face formed a frown at my remark, he shook his head and sighed before he spoke again, looking heavenward as if for divine inspiration he crossed his fingers and used his thumbs to caress his pure white beard.   ‘No Travis, you are wrong, yes I am an icon, a symbol of hope and good, but people need rules and directions, morals are moulded from these regulations.   After I agreed to stay clandestine over time I was astounded at how my following had developed, my image became incomparable and soon it was impossible for me to return, my legacy became more important than me.’

 

‘Based on today’s interview I must make a decision Jehovah, I must determine your future’.   ‘Do what you must Travis, but think of this, is it not better to let me continue my covert existence rather than the disclosure of a second coming?   Think of how it would change the world, surely it is more useful to do nothing!’

 

While I stared into his stunning blue eyes he lent forward and dipped his finger into my water glass.   ‘Taste’ he said quietly.

 

It was undoubtedly wine!

 

Jehovah now spends his time alone at a secret location.

 

Will Neill June 2013.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

This is a short story that needs to be read completly in order to understand what it is about. It is meant in no way to be disrepectful to any one.
please read and form your own opinion.
Will

Reviews

[Angel]

Interesting idea. Jesus, living like a vampire, avoiding the light of day...didn't really die, is evidently immortal...
It needs some polishing, maybe some work on the dialog. Have your characters speak in distinct sentences, and when you move from one speaker to the other, begin a new paragraph. It would be less confusing.
I like it that you don't really give us a reason why your Jesus isimmortal. Your not quite sure...is He truly God, as people have believed for so long? Or...some kind of mutation? If so, it's a shame He never passed His genes along...perhaps immortality would have been the next evolutionary step? But there is that water-into-wine thing. And passing good vibes along with His touch...that was pretty impressive.
Why did the Apostles choose to die rather than reveal the truth about Him?
Interesting concept, it held my attention, and left me wondering what you were trying to say...

[Will Neill]

Thank you for reading my work--its got nothing to do about vampires.
Will

[Angel]

No, I know...I was just making a comparison. Because He is immortal, and staying hidden.
Your story made me think...and my mind does some strange things once something kicks it into gear...

[NotNobody]

I'll debate religion all day. I'm not a fan of it. However, this was a great story and I liked how you made it your own. I have certainly never read anything like this. One thing I noticed though, was how your character estimated his height at six foot. If Jesus was real he would have been much shorter. Two thousand years ago people were not as tall as they are now. At six feet he would have been giant. I believe 4'5'' to 4'11'' would be more accurate but don't quote me on the numbers.

This does make me ask myself, If Jesus were real and here today, would he be okay to sit idly by while we war with each other. Also, what would be his favorite movie. I'm guessing it wouldn't be Passion of the Christ, painful memories and all.

[Will Neill]

I suspect that Jesus if he were the maker of heaven and earth and he and father are the holy trinity-if you believe that then I would suspect that he-Jehovah would have been created in his fathers image and would not have been bound by evolution of that time. To protray this man as as six foot was to give the reader the image of a regal, high immpression of his demure and stature that would befit a leader. I aslo belive that if christ gave us free will then he would not interfere with any wars but allowing us to grow to work it out for ourselves no matter how painful. And finaly his favorite movie would most likely be 'The life of Brian' --a real parody of him self.
Keep well young sir and don't take life to seriously.
Your Friend
Will

[NotNobody]

Well it would seem you have all of this well thought out. I enjoy that, I think it makes for a better story when there was actual thinking behind the little details. Hearing what you have to say in regards to his height adds depth to the story, at least for me.

[Shane Mohamed]

You are the very definition of a fiction writer. Everything: plot, vision, imagination, sentence frame, vocabulary. I seldom have the patience to sit down and finish reading a piece to be honest, but you had me seated the whole time. Gripped. The only thing I have to say is the pricks out there care about grammatical errors than content; they study it before indulging into the hearty thick content with scrutiny; so please proofread your piece for punctuation and grammar. I won't say it anymore; I promise. Once again, a sublime piece with hearty content. I enjoyed it very much.

[Will Neill]

Thanks Shane, I think we can all be a little bit lazy with punctuation. I will endeavour to edit my work better-thanks for the read.
Will

[sakshi arora]

sir i am not a Christian but i am interested in religions .i found your story very captivating.it also increases my knowledge

[Will Neill]

Thank you sakshi for taking the time to read this story, this is a 'What if' scenario and meant to provoke thought. I will read more of your poems when I can.
Keep writing.
Will

[sakshi arora]

thank you and i really like your honesty and i like bluntness your welcome :)

[Will Neill]

Thanks again, Sakshi (watch the puctuation-lol)
Will.

[sakshi arora]

haha i will will

[James Hanna-Magill]

Dear Will

Another opportunity to review one of your short stories.

Whilst I dislike being effusive in my reviews, keeping to steady balance, on this occasion, because the story deserves it, I found it absolutely gripping.

I shall keep my review to a series of numbered points:

1) There are two of many ways in which this story impacts me so strikingly:

a. Because it is religion based. Neither of us being brought up in Belfast, whichever side of the line we fall can have avoided it.

b. You hit the world of psychiatry, psychology and therapy which are so well known to me after 8 years of diagnosis as bipolar. If you read Split you will find I have met in mental hospitals many people with many troubles

2) If I follow the latter point first, the Jesus syndrome is not unknown to me as is often linked to a series of mental health disorders which can include bipolar disorder, schizophrenia and sociopathy, of which psychopathy is a part.

In each case, the sufferer can reach a delusional, psychotic state where they have grandiose notions of their own importance. In some this can actually lead the 'patient' to the belief that they are God.

It may or may not surprise you that I have met one person who in their bipolar disorder was in and out of mental hospitals over several years and who had had a belief that they were Jesus, even though they were a woman.

The syndrome also fits well schizophrenia and psychopathy. it is certainly the case that the former have symptoms of hearing voices in their head though they may not be directional, whereas in the latter case they are.

Schizophrenics are not often cold-blooded killers but psychopaths can be as they have no sense of conscience or empathy.

You list a series of people (very well known to me if not others by name) as serial killers. I need only add Charles Manson to your list where he did consider himself God and had a following of believers who carried out murders on his behalf including Sharon Tate, the then wife of Roam Polanski, the film director.

In your list of those with symptoms of Jesus syndrome you have included Napoleon Bonaparte. He indeed, if you look at the link just under my photo on my profile is one who was retrospectively diagnosed as bipolar.

Lastly as bipolar myself, I have never quite got to actually believing I am God, but have reached a state of mind where I was God's chosen one and that I formed part of His purpose in my life to the point of having divine status. You might only read 'Green' on here, which I wrote in my first mental hospital where I show signs of my comparing myself with Christ or indeed in Split itself.

Your story therefore draws me into a territory of which I know much.

3) If I follow the former point of religious belief, as I say it is pretty difficult for either you or me to have been brought up in Belfast without having the full blast of Christianity thrown at us straight in your face. Frankly I have no time for which side of the dividing line the populous of any country sit especially Northern Ireland between Catholics and Protestants. I am ecumenical in my beliefs and accept both equally.

I was however brought up as a Protestant (Presbyterian) - an accident of birth, so the deep religiosity of the piece I grasp fully in its New Testament context.

So far so good! All I have done is demonstrate why this piece impacts me so deeply given its topic. But at least you can gauge its impact on one reader with a certain background. For a writer I am always intrigued by the reaction I get to my writing by different readers. They can actually be the exact reverse of another reader's.

We often think we have an audience. Whilst in a sense that is true, actually what is happening is that the writer is having an intimate conversation with one reader at a time, the one with the book or screen in front of them. Like all such conversations the reaction of the reader depends entirely on the life experience of both.

4) Where your story fascinates of course, is that it leads us to a place of mental health and religion where there may be no disorder but the 'patient' being examined actually demonstrates that he is Jesus by his actions. I could lift from your piece pieces to back that statement up. But they are obvious to us both.

I shall refer only to two things you mention, the key clues: the Stigmata and the turning of water into wine.

There are parts of modern religion, where modern day miracles are part of the faith. the healing of the sick, even to the point of raising others from the dead. In that microclimate, the Pentecostals form a firm part.

5) In terms of the nuts and bolts of this piece, it is written in a style as if it were non-fiction. It does not have many of the signs of novelistic style. It might at points read as 'Creative non-fiction' that is fact told in a way with certain novelistic attributes. In any case it matters little what terminology you use, boxes aren't that important when a piece like the one you have written immediately draws the reader in with a paced story where you hit us all straight away with names of the famous serial killers.

6) You enhance your piece by the use of psychiatric language, in all its complexity. Moreover you choose to use words, which sit outside the world of psychiatry but which form part of the deeper recesses of the English Lexicon and which are known to few. Thereby you give the tale a richness and also something with pseudo- psychiatric value.

7) Characters: You certainly give us a high level of description of 'Jesus himself', but none of the other characters including the narrator get any at all. Likewise you do not describe in any detail the venues where these events took place.

When written in the first person, it is always a headache getting a description of the 'I' as he or she has to find a delicate way of being described. In the end you have to use trickery.

Does it take away from the piece that neither the main protagonist or the walk-on parts get described? In my view no. This is a story which carries the reader away and in my case would have made no difference whether you had done or not. In short stories it is often difficult to have the time or space, without actually turning it into a novel.

You could however give us a little more insight into the hospitals you refer to and to the tent itself.

8) Dialogue: Excellent. Flows naturally. I love the way in which you have 'Jesus' answer questions with questions. There is something of the world of therapy there, the psychodynamic where the therapist will never allow the therapy to create a relationship between them and the patient. In this case it is as if 'Jesus' himself is the commanding figure and he the therapist.

9) Plot: I have already covered the topic above. But of course the mystery you leave us all with is the key question, where there seems to be so much evidence to prove it that this man does not have a mental health illness. He actually is Jesus. What an excellent story line, that could be exploited and easily made into a movie were the story expanded.

A Lot of words by way of commentary, perhaps Will?

But if there are it is only because your story has had an immense impact on me.

In that you should find encouragement in your writing.

I think you are quite some writer based on this.

I wouldn't give you divine status, but you are getting close to it! Sorry for the ending smile.

Highly accomplished writing.

With my best wishes as ever


Your friend

James

[Will Neill]

James, a humbling reveiw I am glad you enjoyed it.
Take Care.
Will

[James Hanna-Magill]

My pleasure, James

[CecilA]

Will,

Great story; I love it. It is well thought out and composed.

Suggestion: Rewrite your introductory paragraph. Unless your reader is truly interested in the Jesus Syndrome I don't believe you'll hook him into reading further.

Also, I got confused with some of the dialog. Consider breaking it out so that it's easier to define the speaker.

I would drop the word 'undoubtedly' and just say: 'It was wine.' You could add: 'The best I've ever tasted.' instead of using an exclamation point.

These are not criticisms and what you have written is very good. This is just my interpretation of your writing and how I would have done it.

Thanks for sharing your writing with us.


Sincerely,

Cecil

[Marie]

Fascinating. Certainly an excellent concept of what might have happened, and opened up some pertinent questions.