Judas Iscariot hosts a bizarre press briefing

If there was any doubt about the desperation besetting the Jesus campaign it was dispelled at a bizarre press conference in Capernaum…

If there was any doubt about the desperation besetting the Jesus campaign it was dispelled at a bizarre press conference in Capernaum this week. It took place at the home of Peter and Andrew, headquarters of the campaign, and without Jesus himself. Which was a bit like Antigone without the princess.

Conducted by Mr Judas Iscariot, effectively spin doctor supreme of the campaign, it featured a rabbi and his daughter, a Roman centurion, a waiter from Cana, a previously deaf and mute man who could not be silent, a young boy of about seven, and a nervous older woman.

Mr Iscariot apologised for the absence of Jesus, explaining he was visiting a sick friend. This was a reference to Lazarus in Bethany, who has not been well lately. It emerged since that Jesus was opposed to the press conference, saying it was not what he is about. It went ahead at Mr Iscariot's insistence.

Mr Iscariot conceded that Jesus's "I am the bread of life" speech in Capernaum last week had not been well received, but said it had been misunderstood. Jesus had not been speaking literally, he said. "He was explaining something complicated in a simple way, like he does with parables," he said.

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He introduced the people referred to above, each of whom had a tale to tell of the wonderful things Jesus had done for them. The rabbi, Jairus, said "he raised my little girl from the dead", patting his smiling daughter on the head. The reporters laughed.

"They laughed then, too," said Jairus. "I told him my little girl had died and he said she was not dead, just sleeping, and the crowd around us laughed just like you. Well, here she is," he said.

The nervous woman intervened. "He was on his way to Rabbi Jairus's house when I saw him. I had this bleeding disorder for 12 years, as long as that little girl is alive. I touched his cloak and I was cured straight away."

". . . and I was born deaf and could not speak," said the talkative man. "He put his fingers into my ears. He spat and touched my tongue with his spittle. He looked to heaven and said `be opened'. And I could hear and I could speak. You have no idea how wonderful it feels."

Mr Iscariot turned to the Roman. "And you, sir, you're a stranger here. What did he do for you?" The centurion, who was a well-liked man said: "My best servant was very sick. I had heard great things about Jesus. I went to him and told him just to say the words and my servant would be all right And he did. My man hasn't looked back since."

"And what did he do for you, little boy?" asked Mr Iscariot of the seven-year-old. "I don't know, sir," he replied. Which was a relief from the by now leaden parade of wonders. Everyone laughed. "Weren't you possessed by an evil spirit and didn't it make you roll around and foam at the mouth, grinding your teeth and then go stiff?" And the boy asked, "Did it, sir?" to the delight of the media present who enjoy nothing more than seeing the best-laid plans of spin doctors explode in their faces.

The boy's father stood up. He said: "It was like that and had been for years. Even these men here, Peter, John, Andrew, none of them could do anything. I begged Jesus. He said to the spirit in my boy `come out of him and never enter him again'.

"My lad was thrown about the place shouting and roaring and then lay like a corpse. I was sure he was dead. Jesus took him by the hand and lifted him to his feet and he was as good as you see him there how."

The waiter from Cana was asked why he was there. "I can prove he turned water into wine," he said, "I was there." He had heard the story that it was a prank by Jesus and Lazarus . . . "but I know it was water," he insisted.

Asked how he knew, he became embarrassed. "We usually `sample' the wine beforehand," he said, "and I can tell you for certain there was just water in those jars before Jesus got to work on them. There's no doubt about it."

Patsy McGarry

Patsy McGarry

Patsy McGarry is a contributor to The Irish Times