“When Jesus arrived, he did not upgrade their material comforts or accommodation. Yet, the rich dividend was no less real; it was of a different and a higher order.” (The Times of Malta, Thursday December 24, 2009)
It’s that time of year all over again. A time of meaningful editorials which exhort all men and women of good will to “live the true spirit of Christmas”, inspired by Jesus Christ’s humble origins in a society which should be freed of its consumerist and materialistic trappings. Dare we point out that one detects a distinctly communist ring to the pithy editorial sermons one comes across in the run-up to the big day? And yet, all this “back to basics” talk sits oddly with the ambient mood of an island which must surely churn out more lifestyle glossies per capita than any place on earth. It was all getting terribly confusing, so LifestyleToday magazine decided to take the plunge.
It took us several days to track down the elusive Mr Jesus. Forget Blackberrys and iPhones, Macs and Twitter. We discovered that the man we were trying to trace doesn’t even possess an old-style Stowger telephone, so scheduling a slot in his timetable proved to be impossible.
We were left with no choice other than to simply turn up on his doorstep after a short boat ride from the mainland. “Today I live a hermit’s life”, the unassuming bearded gentleman says after welcoming us into his humble abode on the Ġebla tal-Ġeneral in Dwejra – “it has all become very chaotic out there.” After pouring us a glass of strong red wine and insisting that we simply call him ‘Jesus’, Mr Jesus shows us round the two rooms of his miniscule home. “As you can see, I am content with the bare minimum,” he adds with a kind smile. Indeed, Mr Jesus’ home has the feel of a studio flat, not dissimilar to the rooms, usually in someone’s attic, which are rented out to Parisian students on a very tight budget. There is nothing remotely yuppie or ostentatious about this tiny, albeit cosy, place.
This is my favourite room,” he says, pushing a curtain aside and ushering us into his pocket-handkerchief bedroom-cum-study. The space is drowning in books, manuscripts and random CDs (it turns out that Mr Jesus keeps a diary and is an avid follower of the self-effacing singer Steven Patrick Morrissey) and there is barely enough room for one small bed, a cheap Ikea desk and a 1970s-style retro reading lamp. “The view from this window fills me with peace,” he says pointing towards a fishing boat which has started to bring in the evening catch. We sit on Mr Jesus’ Japanese tatami and wonder out loud how this unassuming, reserved gentleman still manages to capture people’s hearts and minds in a world in which the media-savvy social-climber is king.
“To be honest, it’s a mystery to me too,” Jesus admits matter-of-factly, “I’m a shy type of guy. Maybe my disciples’ refined marketing skills have something to do with it…” As my photographer snaps away happily, I ask Mr Jesus why he has chosen to retreat into a life of semi-anonymity on this uninhabited rock off the coast of a slightly bigger rock in the Mediterranean Sea. “Good question,” Jesus replies: “As I said earlier, things have become chaotic of late. Mr Warhol predicted that everyone would get their 15 minutes of fame and he was prophetic on that count… perhaps I just feel uncomfortable dealing with the competition,” he adds frankly.
So who does he consider to be his main rivals? “I think you know the answer to that question already,” Jesus replies, laughing into his long beard as he reaches for a pile of magazines which he has stacked neatly underneath his tatami. We are shocked to discover last month’s copy of LifestyleToday among the glossy pile which Mr Jesus is now flicking through silently, stopping to point a long finger at pouting models, pictures of unimaginable culinary excesses and random Z-list celebrities.
“Christmas is either about the simple, humble, unassuming life or it’s about fashion models, luxury products and out-of-control property development,” he says with an enigmatic smile, “You guys try to have it both ways, but that’s just cheating, isn’t it?”
We have our answer. I feel light-headed. My photographer looks at me and we head for the door without much ado.
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