The Book of James

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He sits up.

Sweating and breathing hard, as if startled, the Star of Our Story finds himself propped up on his hands, his arms supporting the weight of his seated yet somewhat reclined position. Naked from the waist up, his hairy chest heaving in his state of bewilderment, Our Hero is covered only by a thick blanket protecting his blue pajamaed legs from the coolness of the night air.

“What in God’s name?” he ponders. His bewilderment stems from and is exacerbated by the very notion that he does not know why he is so bewildered. Bewildering. But once again (well, really for the first time, but Our Hero need not know that now nor would he be sufficiently equipped to understand), he feels an interminable sense of being under observation. Not a casual observation such as one might feel with a nosy neighbor who, for one reason or another, might enjoy nocturnal examination of the other humans who share space with him. Nor would this sense of being watched be satiated by the knowledge that he was under the scrutiny and examination of such powerful forces as the CIA or FBI. Even such seemingly Herculean entities as those mentioned above would still be somewhat limited in their surveillance capacity (voice, video, even body temperature and heart rate) to garner but a speck of the information that James felt was being so surreptitiously extracted. Incidentally, that is Our Man’s name…James. We could keep referring to him by his description of title (i.e. Our Hero), but I think James would just prefer that his name be used.

What James was feeling, sensing, experiencing, was a state of observation in which his entire being was under a constancy of scrutiny. Even more so than those things corporeal, he seemed to perceive, though he could not explain, not even to himself, that he was…known. His thoughts, his feelings, his secrets, his wants and desires, everything to the very depth of his soul was known. Even to those things hidden from himself, those things that we all, in some part, hide away in the recesses of our minds so that we might function through our otherwise unbearable shame were known to this unknown observer. How? Why? The answer: He is Me.

You see, there are three separate entities involved in this story. There is James (the Hero), there is You (the Reader), and there is Me (the Author). We’re all involved in our own, unique way, but each one of us is involved none-the-less. Now, right now, I am the only one who fully understands this relationship between the three of us. You, the Reader, will either read on and eventually learn how you fit into this tale, or you will stop and not fully realize your place and the story will simply continue without you. Lastly (well, firstly really), is Our James, and as of yet, he has no real idea what is happening. Hence his initial words upon waking in a cold sweat, “What in God’s name?”.

What in God’s name? Funny, really. He couldn’t possibly have known upon uttering this simple interrogative just how close to the truth that question came. You see, I am god. Well, at least so far as James is concerned, I am. Please Dear Reader, before you dismiss me out of hand, allow me to justify that otherwise seemingly absurd assertion. To James, the Hero, I most certainly am god, as I will prove both to him and to you simultaneously, but to you first. I suppose you could think of my revelation to you of this simple truth before that of James, the character of my creation, as simply an extension of the same foreknowledge granted to the Angels who serve God (the capital ‘G’ God, I mean). Like the Angels who understand with a greater extent and clarity the nature and purpose of the humans that they ultimately serve, you, the Reader, also serve a similar purpose and, subsequently, shall be granted a correspondingly enhanced vantage-point into the life of James and the story therein enshrined. So, without further ado, allow me to elucidate for you this triune perspective so that you might become increasingly aware of your role in the book and mine as James’ sovereign.  Then, I will not only introduce James to you, but I will introduce Us to James.

Let me begin by introducing you, the Reader, to Our Beloved…James. This is very easy for me because, you see, he is me. As I am made in the image of God, so too is James created in my image. There is no obstacle for me to describe him, because it is merely the description of me. I don’t mean for that to say that this is in any way autobiographical, God forbid. But rather to say that the adventures that We will all undertake together will be performed with and experienced by that avatar of me, James. 

So let’s begin with the simplest of descriptions of Our Hero, the physical. James is a man of both moderate height and build. He stands on the high end of 5’9”, about 165 pounds with a lean frame. His hair is a darkish brown with matching eyes and a rather full but well maintained and trimmed beard. James is generally considered handsome, though certainly not a model by any classical standards. He is 47.

This physical description might seem rather terse, but none the less serves its purpose to build a blueprint in your mind as to a generality of what Our Hero looks like. I leave the particulars of his appearance up to you, the Reader. Now, that aside, let’s decide where to place ol’ James. I was thinking New York. I just see James in a smallish apartment, something relevant to his bachelor life, in a city of both abundance and anonymity. Incidentally, James is a single man, never married and without children. He did have one true love, many years ago, but that ended, and he’s never really pursued a relationship with adequate vigor to overcome the pain that he endured following that loss. Now, so far as his love life is presently concerned, there is none. James lives his life happily as an avowed celibate.

James is neither rich nor poor, a credo that he has internalized in his life. Being the furthest thing from a materialist, those trinkets of life for which others so desperately long, toil and lie mean little to Our Man. He has sought, and to a large extent has found a meeting of his wants with his needs. He believes that when his needs are met and in wanting for nothing, he has everything that he would require. Then, he posits, he will find solace in sufficiency. 

Ok, now before we make James aware of Our presence, I would be remiss if I did not introduce you to the world in which James finds himself. First of all, let me say that James’ world (or you might also rightfully say ‘universe’) is in everyway similar to Ours, save for one small yet wildly significant deletion that I will now make. In James’ world, there is no Bible. James has no sense of that which we would colloquially call ‘divine’. In James’ world, there is no religion as We would recognize it, but rather a complete acquiescence to the dictates of science as religion, or herein referred to as Scientism. I tell you this, Reader, to make ready the soil of your understanding as to James’ reaction upon meeting Us (well, me really, but I will tell him in short order about the Reader who is in constant observance of his life and story). For James, upon hearing my voice for the first time and without the slightest reference to such an event, neither through personal experience, history nor literature, he is most likely to, how might one say it…freak out. Never fear though, dear Reader, I promise to walk him through this transition with as much love and honesty that I can muster for him as if he were myself, which he is, me I mean. Oh, you get it. And so, let’s say hello.

To do so, We will return to James in his present condition as described at the genesis of Our story, alone and panting in his bed, and scared for reasons which he knew not. In the Beginning…

Hello James. My name is Lee.

Annnnnnddd…he freaked out.

James. James. Settle down, mate.

Who is that!?

Ok, I just want to say quickly that for the sake of clarity and expediency I have chosen to italicize my voice to James and I have also chosen to make James’ words in bold.

Oh, meanwhile with our man. As we thought might happen, James did not actually take to the idea quite as we’d hoped he would. More like the opposite, really. Right now, I’ve chosen to skip through some of the boring stuff, pretty sure I hurdled through a few stages of grief there, but right now he’s in whatever that stage is where one is holding a blankie and sobbing. Ok, let me have a look at him real quick. Yeah, he’s a sorry lot. Down on his knees, just clutching a blanket in his hands, sitting back on his heels now and looking up…crying. The blanket is a teddy bear now and I think he’s saying goodbye to his innocence. Poor fellow…think we’ve all been there.

I’m going to try again. However you view me doing this, think of my voice as being gentle and understanding of the shock he must be feeling. 

Ok, here I go.

James

As I’d feared, James skittles back on his heels, palms flat on floor, belly exposed and crabbing away from a voice that his mind still assigns a direction, but from which no direction comes.

Who said that?

I already said. My name is lee.

There was quite a pause there for a moment while neither one of us knew what to say and were both waiting for the other. As The Author, I was certain it was going to be him, but it looks like he’s pleading the 5th on this one, so I guess I’ll try to break the ice. Jeez, ok, think Lee, what would this be like for you…

James, listen. No no no…it’s ok. This is real. My voice is real. I am real. The only thing that I can promise you is the truth. I’m not here to scare you, to hurt you or put you in any harms way that you cannot escape.

Wait! What?

Ummm…what…what?

That I can’t escape?? First of all, I don’t even know why I’m talking with you. You’re nothing but a delusion. I always knew I’d.lose my mind, one way or another.   Always knew. You know, it ran deep in my step-mothers side of the family.

James…james, stop being silly. You’re not delusional and I am speaking with you, right now. 

Now if you’ll just sit with that for a second, I’ll explain the whole thing to you. Right?

Let it just be said that if I ask James something and then pause and then begin to speak again, let us assume for expediencies sake that James has made known his answer by means other than speaking.

I can anticipate your questions. Let me save you sometime. My brother once did the same for me.

I am the Author, James. I am the Creator of your life. All that you see, all that you know, all that you are or will ever be resides at the tips of my fingers. But know this also, as you feel, I feel. As you weep, I know sorrow. When fear takes you, We lay afraid.

You wish to know what lies ahead for you? Oh James, such things. So many wonderful things…!