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  • I have no idea why he is here. Maybe it is because this part of Vermont happens to be the most beautiful, or maybe it is where God would choose to live if he were on earth. He lives all alone in an old refurbished church on the corner, one that stood empty for years and started to sag under the weight of abandonment. I first saw him in a small restaurant downtown three or so years ago. His long leather coat got my attention and his arrogant saunter kept it. I can still feel the foreboding feeling that mounted as I watched him and waited for some strange display which never came. Not that day anyway. Quite some time passed before I saw him again.

    He was standing in the middle of the road at the small three corner intersection where the now occupied church stands. He was dressed in strange garb, baggy pants with tassels, a t-shirt cut off just above the rib cage to reveal the well defined six pack. He wore a homemade dew rag over his long straggly hair. He had chiseled features, a square chin, troubled eyes and was barefoot. He stood in the road twirling a long stick, challenging the oncoming traffic with his glare. He did not say anything to them, only watched them as they passed with an angry expression.

    Then the stories started to circulate. Visits to the surrounding houses in the middle of the night. Invitations to fourteen year old girls to come into the church, which were accepted. Solitary barefoot walks across the field where no one else walked. These things were all unsettling, but there was something else, something hard to place about him. The police started to pay him frequent visits. He began chanting during his stick twirling road rituals. He wandered down our road and across familiar fields. He peered in through our trees to chant at our friends children playing in the pond. And then one day, I spotted what was strange.

    They were on the side of the road. Two of them. Same build, same clothes, same face. Twins. Body builders. Movie producers. There is only one stark difference between them. While they both give off an arrogant aura , the one that abides in the church full time, is God. He is manifesting God through his body like no one ever before including "your man Jesus Christ." There are twenty-seven "humanly impossible" things that he can do to prove to the world that He is God. But no one seems to be getting it, and it is making him angry. Very angry. Even the professors at Yale University would not see him and he doesn't understand why no one wants to meet God now that he is here among us.

    You can tell when he is manifesting God because he rants and raves and speaks in rhymes and riddles. When he is again himself he speaks coherently, and justifies his obsession with his manifestations. He is an alchemist of sorts. One who spends much of his time in communion with the one he refers to as "The Light." It seems that he has been communing with The Light for an extended period of time now, and spending his days restoring the old church and trying desperately to convince those around him to accept him as God, the one and only. Both of these men have left the body building world for a more spiritual, mentally challenging way of life through meditation.

    This is a quiet neighborhood for the most part. Or it was. Though my guess is that no one has brought over a pie or welcomed him to the area. We have become a much more open-minded crowd in the last few years, accepting many "outsiders" but God in the form of a raving lunatic in the middle of the road twirling a stick and staring us down as we pass is a hard one to take. We just don't know what to do with him. My guess would be that he is off the charts Narcissistic and Schizophrenic, to name two. But this small community cannot reach him because he does not seem to want to be reached outside of us admitting and worshiping him as God.

    So we drive by him all the time pretending we don't see him.

    This has been something that I have tried hard to not do with most other people in the last decade, but my lack of desire to reach out to someone who refers to the unbelievers as the "ugly, smugly, fugly", somehow outweighs my desire to be warm and inviting. So I go on wondering what makes someone like this? Where is the line between reachable and unreachable?
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