JESUS PLAYS THE CATSKILLS
Hank Gross
Published by Hank Gross at Smashwords 2010
© 2010 Hank Gross All Rights Reserved,
including electronic, print, and performance.
Registered with U.S. Copyright Office
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"Angels can fly because they take themselves lightly.
Never forget that Satan fell by force of gravity."
-- G. K. Chesterton
"God laughs because He knows more than we do.
God has sharper vision."
-- Miriam Pollard
"Be not sad, for the joy of the Lord is our strength."
Nehemias 8: 9-10
"A joyful heart is the health of the body,
but a depressed spirit dries up the bones."
Proverbs 17: 22
In this sublime retelling of the teachings, meaning and story of Christ's life, Jesus himself takes the mike and tells it to a Borscht-Belt crowd as a Jewish comic might. He was Jewish, after all, and would have had a Jewish sense of humor. It's the New Testament as you've never heard it before! He even takes questions from the audience! So, here he is, folks, the King of Kings, the Lamb of God…let's give it up, ladies and germs, for JESUS!
GOOD EVENING LADIES AND GENTILES
Tenk you, tenk you.
Heppy to be here, you look like a grett crowd. Bless you all, and I minn dat from de hot – dis is not you everyday geshundheit, beliff me.
You vondering mebby who I em, varing a robe nids a good pressing, looks like he hessn't hed a haircut in two tousand years, kem here to do stend opp, tinks he's mebby Billy Crystal?
Hah! No vay. I'm Jizzus Christ, de von de only. Stotted ott a nice Jewish boy, ended opp oy, don't esk.
By now, almost everyvon forgets I'm Jewish. Vhat, I kem ott from my modder, she says hallo, valcome, you a Presbyterian? I vas a rebbi, for Christ's sake, vore a funny little bleck het, kept falling off, et beggels vit crimm chizz for breakfast, a little lox, sliced tin, not too salty, kept two sets dishes, the whole schmegegga. You vant to know how Jewish I em? I'm sitting vonce in de temple, man comes up to me, esks em I comfortable, I say ehh, I mek a living. Beliff me, em Jewish true and true. Look at me, I lived at home vit my perents till I vas tirty, I vent into my fodder's business, and my modder tinks I'm God. I'm in the bettroom more den tree minutes, I hear, "Are you hokay? Are you hokay?"
Mebby I should get a nose job – hev it med bigger.
So, vhat I'm doing here, nu? Vhat's dis, anyvay -- de second komming from Christ ve been haxpecting all dese years? Don't be silly. Been here many toms, pled lest year Veggis vit Ven Newton, brought de house right don on top de bote of os. You vant a second komming, come beck for de second show at ten tirty.
And vhy I kip komming beck, you esk Vhat's my rizzon stending opp here mekking chokes? Hokay, gled to tell you.
Rizzon is, my titchings got all gobbled over de years, hev to stretten pipple ott. Look vhat's going on in de vorld. Everyvon fighting, everyvon greb greb greb, pooshing, shoffing, me, me, me, den going to church, getting dressed opp, saying hallo, hallo, how are you, but not living by vhat I titch.
Tek de Inquisition, for hexemple.
Plizz!
Look vhat dey did in my nem. Killing, tawcha, being min to itch odder. All dat business vit de reck, de iron meddin, tootpicks onderneet de fingernells. Some inquisition! Dey hed qvestions, vhy didn't dey jost esk nicely? Say plizz. Beliff me, I vasn't in fevor at all.
So, hev a few tings nid to clear opp, stotting vit de Gospels. You tink in dere is vord from vord vhat I said? Don't mek me leff. John didn't ivvin write don vhat I said until forty years letter. And he hed no memory to begin vit. He ivvin had to write the apostles' nems on his arm jost to kip dem strett. I'm not kidding you – check ott "De Lest Sopper" – if you look closely you can see it.
Suddenly, von day, he mitts a publisher, says hey, got a grett idea for a book. Dat's how it kem abott. Next ting, dey all vanted to get published. Metthew, Mock, Luke – Metthew also wrote cookbooks, not everybody knows dat, had a febulous recipe for brisket, you could die for.
And Luke! Giff me a breck! Vas so dyslexic he wrote don dere vas 21 apostles ven dere vas only 12. Kept calling God "dog". Vhen Satan offered him de chence to sell his soul, he said, "Gled to," and den sold it to Senta. Von time I vas trying to titch him to turn de odder chick, he got it beckvards, taut I meant de odder chick!
Mock, who to tell you de trute vas a few shingles short from a roof, never got dis von eeder. Von day he vas valking along de stritt ven a man kem opp, slepped him hod on his chick, and said, "Dere, dat's for you, Seymour!"
"Vhat did you do?" I esked him vhen he told me abott dis.
"I leffed and leffed."
"So, instead of hitting him beck you leffed it off," I said. "Good vork, Mock, I tink you ketching on."
"No, Jizzus," Mock haxplenned, "I leffed because de choke vas on him – I'm not Seymour!"
Don't get me wrong, Mock vas a very spiritual man, grented. But, like I said, vas a few pews short of an apse. Hed an IQ so low, de odder disciples used to trip over it. Leddy, you vant to know how domb he vas? He vas so domb, vonce ve all rented a boat and vent fishing on de Sea of Galilee, fond a good spot, caught a kaboodle of fish. Eftervards, Mock made an X on the bottom of de boat so ve'd find de sem spot again! Can you beliff? And den, ven Metthew pointed ott how stupid dat vas, Mock slepped his head vit is pom and said, "You right, Metty – vhat if ve don't get de sem boat!"
I'm not saying he vas domber den dirt, but he vasn't a lot smotter, eeder.
You see vhat I minn? Don't beliff everyting you rid. Tek vit a grenn salt.
So, dat's vhy I'm here. Vhat do you tink de whole purpose my titchings vas, anyvay? So two tousand years letter you can motch up to some prist vearing a costume, itt a teeny-veeny tiddly-vink, vash it don vit grepp juice, and dat's it? Sevved? Hah! Who keres you vorship me! Von't get you von step closer to de havven. You tink de havven is somepless letter on efter you die? Oy, I should liff so! You die, dat's it – you might as vell be a piss salami. De havven is right now. Hev to vek opp now, vhile you got a chence. Don't vest time on dis, dat, and de odder ting.
So, dat's vhy I'm opp here on de stedge tonight. To titch you de vay to get dere. And von ting abott you play de Ketskill's, if you bomb, no big dill, dey trow at you a few knishes, you get mebby a piss chopped liver in you eye. Two tousand years ago I said hexactly vhat I'm going to say tonight, and ended opp vit nells in my poms and a grett view of de plains of Golgotha. Now everyvon vants a cross as a souvenir.
Pipple! I'm telling you! Dey'd redder vear a tchotchka around dere neck den ectual precktice vhat I'm telling dem. I gev von to a little kid before de show, he says tenk you, who's de heckrobet? Didn't God say don't mek no greffin imaches? Dis is a mejor religion, folks, not a shop kless.
And look at dis man here, snoring like a frett tren. Mister. Yes, you, in de front row, already tekking a nep, I'm not here tree minutes. Vek opp, vek opp, tom vets for no man, you haspacial. Come on, plizz, I'm on a roll here, or at list a slice rye vit kerrovay sids. Mister, mister! Vatch ott you don't fall on you head, you might knock youself conscious.
Ach! Vhat can you do! I hev to forgiff him, he knows not vhat he does. Vell, ectual, who does?
Hokay, going to hev a few sips vater now, and den ve get on vit de show. Tenk you, tenk you. Tenk you very much.
TAKE MY MANGER – PLEASE!
As you all know, I vas born on de ert two tousand years ago, giff or tek a few, I'm not going to kvibble, vhat ve call now olden toms. Fect, dey say I vas born eeder in 4 B.C. or 6 B.C., vitch minns I vas born before I vas born altogedder, nit trick, nu? Like my modder says, never hurts to get a head stott, kem ott vas ready to jomp right into de second gred.
Vas not an ordinary birt, vas a so-called virchin birt, and heppened on Christmas, so I'm von of dose unlocky kids gets only von set prazents.
First inkling I vas on de vay kem vhen my modder gets a tep tep tep from Gebbriel, an enchel sent by de Lord. She says to him, "Gebbriel, vhatta you blowing you horn right in my ear, kent you see I'm tekking a nep?"
He says, "Never mind de vicecrecks, Merry. You been selected to giff birt to de son of God and de King of de Jews. Jost kem to giff you a heads opp, you can stott now knitting a pair booties."
"Who nids he should be a king?" my modder says. "Is it too lett ve could mebby chenge de order to a doctor, some kind spacialist?"
"Lissen," he tells her, "tek it or liff it. And no henky-penky vit Joey, dat vould be chitting on God. Hez to be virchin birt."
I esked vonce my modder about dis virchin birt. By de vay, vhen I vanted to get her attention, I didn't hev to say Hell Merry, modder from God, jost called ott, "Hey Ma!" like any odder kid. She says to me, "Dahling, vhat kind kvestion is dat, you should esk you modder? Shem on you, go esk you fodder."
So, I go to my fodder, I say, "Pop, did you hev sex vit Ma nine monts before she hed me?" He puts don his hemmer and says to me, "Vhat sex? You call tvelf hours of begging sex? You call it sex vhen in de middle from it your modder says to me, 'Joe, de silling could use penting?' You call it sex vhen de only vay to get her in de moot vas to use a four-letter vord: SALE?"
I'll tell you vhat de virchin birt rilly mins. I'm de virchin ve talking abott here. Hez notting to do vit sex. Minns dat I kem out pure, already de son from God, not dat you folks aren't children from God too, jost got a few tings to vork ott yet. Den you vill be virchins too, jost like me. Fect, inside you already pure as de drivin snow. So stop already vis dis beck and fort, did she or didn't she go pest second bess vit Joseph. Course she did. Den she vent on efter me and had tree more boys and two girls. You tink itch tom she vent to God, said, "Haxcuse me, you busy tonight?" No, I don't tink so.
So, anyvay, ott I come, I look arond, haxpect mebby a nice room, vallpepper vit liffs and flowers and epple trees, rettles on my crib, clinn shits, vhat do I find? I'm in a pigsty! My bed's med from hay, hitches like you vouldn't beliff, all arond is vids, creb gress, someting I don't vant to mention from a donkey. Chickens pecking at my toes, fifteen medieval ottists penting my picture. And cold! Mister, you vant to know how cold it vas? It vas so cold, every tom somebody opened de door de star from Bethlehem kem on. I minn, crèche-schmeche, dis vas a domp. De next year dey tore it don and put opp a slom.
My mamma kreddles me in her oms – Goya keptured dis nicely – and says to me, "Dahling, velcome. Sorry, de accommodations, ve got here notting vas open, everyvhere you look vas no vekency, I said to your fodder, 'Joe, did I tell you to call ahead or vhat?' For vonce dat man should listen! No, he's vorking on anodder bird house, a duplex, two and a hev betts, appliances. I kip telling him, 'Joey, nobody's buying bird houses, learn how to mek a end tebble, a set chairs, a lemp. Mebby den ve can hev someting odder den wrens for dinner.'"
I'm tinking, uh-oh, not a grett beginning. How is dis all going to end?
Jost den I hear, for de first tom, de beautiful voice my havvenly Fodder. In his kind, sveet, dip berritone, he spiks his first vords to me. He says, "Son, I got some good noose and some bed noose . . ."
Hokay, den in prences de tree vice men. Vice men! Hah! I vonce met a kemmel smotta in von hump den all tree of dem put togedder. First of all, dey heard I vas going to be born but didn't know vhere. So, vhat do dey do? Dey go opp to King Herod, de nesty king of de Jews in Jerusalem, and say, "Hallo Kingy, is being born a new king from de Jews, vould you mind giffing directions?" Right off de bet dey tipping him off.
Vell, Herod didn't know vhere I vas, so now de vice men decide dey going to look opp in de sky, find a star, and follow it, mebby vill by some chence tek dem vhere dey vant to go. Dat's like you vant to go ott for dinner you valk into de first store you see and hope it's a restaurant. Turns ott dey pick de right von, it trevvels across de sky and slems on de brecks right over Bethlehem. Trows de whole universe ott from vheck, gelexies going every vitch vay, bleck holes bomping into itch odder. Ursa de Bear turns into a skvirrel. Orion's Belt becomes a pair suspenders. Vas a big mess, took over a tousand years to stretten ott.
Anyvay, de tree of dem get to de menger, say hallo, ve bringing you some prazents. I jost come ott, I'm mebby tventy minutes old, you know vhat dey bring me? Gold, frenkensense, and myrrh. I say myrrh? Vhat I'm going to do vit a peckage myrrh? Vhat's myrrh anyvay? Do you know, mister? Leddy? I'm two tousand now, I still don't know vhat myrrh is.
Now ve get anodder visitor, de man owns de menger. He says you vant to stay here, you got to pay de next night in edvence. Merry gets all rett in de fess, points to me and says to him, "You know who dis is? Tek a good look. You heard mebby of God, opp dere in de havven, ronning de whole show?" De lendlord of de menger says, yes, hez a pessing akvaintence. Merry says, "Vell, dis is his son, de only begotten. You looking vit you eyes at de son from God. Years from now, pipple vill be saying, De son of God slept here. In you menger."
"Years from now?" he says beck to her. "I got news for you, leddy. Unless you come up vit tventy shekels, dey'll be saying it tomorrow."
So, now pops in an enchel, says not to vorry, you hev to liff anyvay. Turns ott, Herod de Cruel hez put ott a contrect on me, vants me ott from de picture. Already, de plot tikkens. Vitott vesting a minute, ve peck up and tek off for Nazareth. Dat's how come dey kem to call me Jizzus of Nazareth, stead of Jizzus of Bethlehem.
Minnvhile, Herod ken't find me, so he orders all de kiddies onder two years old to be killed, hoping mebby I'll be von of dem. Dis hez come to be called de Murder from de Innocents. Innocent little bebbies, for Christ's sek!
You know?
I hescaped dis fate, but kem a few herry moments vhen I vasn't so sure. I'm ett days old, I'm lying in my bed in Nazareth, vorking already on my first dreft of "De mik shell inherit de ert," trying ott different vords for mik, like sissy, pensy, mama's boy, vhen in comes dis man vit a big knife. I'm tinking, vell dis is it, tom's up, but he says to me, don't vorry, not going to tek you life, jost going to tek a little snip off from down dere.
Vhat, is he crezzy? Does he know who I em, for Christ's sek!
"Dis is called a Bris," he tells everybody essembled. "Main ting abott a Bris," he says vit a leff, "is don't tek a front row sit! Ha ha. You know vhat dey call an uncircumsized Jew more den ett days old? A girl! Ha ha. You know de rill reason vhy ve do dis? Becawse Jewish vimmen von't touch anyting unless it's tventy percent off. Ha ha."
"You going to mek vit de chokes or jost tek a little off de top?" Merry esks him.
"Hokay, hokay," he says.
"Be keffel," my modder says, "is de son from God here."
He looks at me don dere, shecks his head, says, "Hmm, vould tink de son from got vould hev a bigger pinnis, no?" My fodder giffs him a shop varning look, and he meks vit a shrug and says, "Ach, who em I to say? God must know vhat he's doing."
So, he gets to vork, and I kem up vit my first perrable, von't find in any of de Gospels. Here it is, you ready?
OWWWWW!
A FUNNY THING HAPPENED TO ME ON
THE WAY TO MY MINISTRY
De years dat followed vas heppy vons, ivvin doe ve vas not de richest pipple in de nebberhood. In fect, tell de trute, ve vas kvite poor. How poor vas ve, dis leddy in de front row vants I should tell her? Ve vas so poor, ve et our cereal vit a fork to seff milk. Vhen pipple kem to visit and reng de doorbell, my modder vould go "DING!" Ve ivvin hed to put a dimmer on de menorah. Von year, all de kids in de nebberhood kem don vit de mizzles. I only got von mizzle, vas all ve could afford.
My ded vas trying his best to bring home, you should podden de haxpression, de bekkon, vorking on a bird appottment complex, vit Ma yelling at him, "Joe, build somebody a pawtch, already!"
Pa looks at me and sheks his head sedly. "PMS," he haxplens to me. "To vimmen, heppens vonce a mont, like clockvork."
"But dis is de Holy Modder," I say in emezzment. "You telling me she comes don vit PMS jost like ordinary vimmen?"
"Vhat," he says, "you don't remember vhen ve vas komming beck from Bethlehem how she rode my ess de whole tom? And you vere no better: 'Are ve dere yet, are ve dere yet?'"
Von day Pa hed enough de neg, neg, neg, kem right beck at her vit, "Merry, never mond all de tom dis wrong, dat wrong, if you so perfect, vhy don't you stretten opp de house for a chenge?"
"Vhy?" she esks him. "It's tilted?"
My grempa, Joachim, kept telling my modder, "Did I tell you not to merry dis man, or vhat?" and in fect he had. Beck vhen my fodder, who vas much older den my modder, vas vooing her, he kem to Joachim and said he vants to merry his daughter. Joachim says to him, "Joseph, you not vorking, how you plenning to support her?" My fodder says, "I vill study de Torah, and God vill provide."