Why then on Christmas does it feel a crime to laugh? I don't believe he was the son of God, not at all. But surely he was holy, more holy than us all in action and intent. What really was in his heart? Maybe he was truly convinced of the word. But how could he be? It is such an absurdity.
A poor bastard born to a raped virgin, and a lie that kept her honour turned into a cult beyond all others, even that of Mahomet.
But not without his virtues, indeed only because of them. It could be no other. It feels a sin not because of the mystical divinity, but the true one: to embody virtue and to endure injustice without wavering from it. To keep love in one's heart above the buffeting rage that comes from the heart of the beast.
