Rabbi Joshua was no rabbi. He was a comedian and an angry man. Yesterday he'd been just fine. This morning he was awoken by a great flood of anger with the realization that he had believed a lie. Not just a lie, but all of the lies, fully and without knowledge he'd been striding along in absolute untruth. He'd built his life on it, his friendships and family, his work and his child. He had given his child to the lie and he was enraged.
Joshua was wise enough to know he'd been had. He turned to face the mirror and screamed at it, slammed the walls on either side with his angry fists and called the lie, the world, the fear and pain he felt, everything he could think to call it. Jesus was real. He'd been lied to about that. Isaiah 53 told him. Saved people told him. Why did they love him? It seemed like the sky had broken open and all of creation had called out to tell him the truth.
"Why was I never told this?" He asked himself and wept. His tears were a fountain, a great raging torrent, and as he wept he was cleansed.
Now he's mad. And he's free. When he speaks there will be fire on the Earth.
