I had expected awe in quietly seeing the supposed Son of God; the highlight of my long life of dedication. To touch Him. To hear His voice. I could treasure an experience as the only person alive in my time to do so, perhaps even to bury myself and the machine in the sea to disguise my experience. I did not expect to be scolded, huddled in the fetal position as 2,000 Israelites stared with fear as their Prophet berated a stranger in a language that would not be spoken for 1,500 years.

I finally found my voice, “L-Lord, how do you know me?”

He glared down at me, seemingly indecisive for the first time since I had seen Him. He turned and spoke quickly to the group (the Apostles?) standing fearfully behind Him.

The men began to shout at the crowd and shoo them away. The man I believed to be Jesus looked at me again and extended His hand. “Come. Lots broken. Walk.”

The crowd disbursed unhappily, but also with deference and awe. I took His hand and he pulled me up, then hurried me back in the direction of my machine.

I tried to get me bearings. “Are you Jesus?”

He glanced at me and kept walking, hurrying me along.

“I… I need to know!” I planted my feet. “If you know me I have traveled further than anyone ever has to see you. I have to know.”

He stopped, braced Himself and turned with fury in His eyes. “Sad question. You hear stories and think I am God? SMALL thinking! TOURIST! Come!”

He continued down the beach and I hurried to catch up. I spoke again in Koine, “Why is my thinking small, Lord? Help me understand.”

He spoke in Greek while maintaining a hurried pace, “We can’t catch all of you. People who want to grab a piece of the history and take it like a barbarian, a thief. You understand nothing of our work.”

I ran ahead, blocking Him. “Then make me understand! I’ve come so far!”

“Does it occur to you that there is more to life than knowledge and the small-minded memories you collect like the ornamented tombs of the rich? More than mountaintops and records to be broken? I am here to keep billions from tragedy and disaster! To you, I am some artifact who seems strange and antiquated because you have no context! You could live a thousand times and still not comprehend the simplest lesson because you are a vapor! A mist! Your existence is only meaningful because you, a child, use the fundamental structures we have built as a toy when it is equipment built with purpose. You see a single page of a book and presume to know the whole text! You are an irritant! An insect that bites the horse and crashes the cart. People need to hear the words I tell them. A single brick among billions is put in place. Do you understand? You interrupt the infinite.”

I stood in silence. The language lacked the complexities He likely needed to convey the grand ideas He referenced, but it made me feel like a scolded child. I was just a tourist, transgressing on a sacred space for my own petty wishes, touching the face of God like it was a trophy with no grasp of what I interrupted. Grander purposes could truly be at play and I, in 30 years of pursuit, could only think of my own narrow, tawdry wishes.

We walked the rest of the way in silence. He walked to my covered craft and threw back the burlap sheet. He disappeared inside a moment, spoke quietly to Himself, then emerged.

“Your ship will get you home now. Do not return.” I looked inside to see that several wires had been removed and reconnected with other parts broken. It looked rather like a hot wired car as the familiar whine began.

I paused and looked at Him and took Him in for the first time. He seemed so ordinary. I had to ask.

“I… I have to ask before I return; are you the Christ? Is it true?”

He shook his head. “When you look at a mirror or an image of yourself, is that you? Would a person who looked at you know your fears?”

He turned away and spoke looking at the sun. “That’s what you say I Am. I suppose that will do.”

The whine reached its apex. I closed the door. Bang. The sting of ozone filled my nostrils. I had touched something that filled me with awe; both wonder and terror. As I opened the latch, I found myself back at the Sea of Galilee with Israeli soldiers headed my way. They shouted at me, but I ignored them. I suddenly felt very small.