A Rattlesnake in the Garden

The Gospel According to Clemens: A Rattlesnake in the Garden

Once upon a sometime—not too long ago and not quite now—there lived a fellow named Clemens. He wasn’t a preacher, a prophet, or a politician. He was just a guy who asked too many questions, kept a pet lizard named Barabbas, and spent his afternoons sitting under a fig tree, thinking deep thoughts and yelling at clouds.

One day, Clemens stood on a wooden crate in the middle of the marketplace, holding a scroll he claimed was “dictated by a squirrel with divine insight.”

“Listen up, sinners and self-appointed saints!” he hollered. “We’ve been bamboozled, hoodwinked, and downright hornswoggled!”

A few townsfolk gathered, mostly out of boredom or mild curiosity. Clemens cleared his throat dramatically.

“Jesus set us free,” he said, “and then the Christians came along and handed out rulebooks thicker than a donkey’s backside! Morals here, laws there, guilt everywhere. It’s like getting released from prison only to be fined for walking too fast!”

Someone in the crowd gasped. An old woman clutched her pearls.

“But… the church,” she stammered.

“Yes, yes, the church,” Clemens said, waving a hand. “Let me tell you something about the church. They were so busy sniffing out heretics they forgot how to love. Burned folks at the stake just for asking if God maybe had a different opinion. Poor brother Jerome got crispy just for saying maybe angels wore sandals!”

A man raised his hand. “But Clemens,” he asked, “what about the King? Doesn’t he have responsibilities too?”

“Of course, he does!” Clemens said. “A king should rule like a gardener, not a jailer. Prune the weeds, yes—but not torch the whole garden just ‘cause one bee stung the royal butt!”

Then Clemens got real quiet, looking up at the sky like he was listening to an inner voice—or perhaps to Barabbas, who had climbed onto his shoulder.

“You see, inside us are two spirits. Not good and evil like some cartoon. More like two opinions that never agree on where to eat lunch. One says, ‘Let’s be kind.’ The other says, ‘Let’s take a flamethrower to Dave’s house.’ But you can’t split yourself in two forever. The key,” he said, pointing upward, “is to make ‘em shake hands and work together. Two must become one. One spirit. One face.”

Someone shouted, “What about bitterness and jealousy?”

Clemens rolled his eyes. “Anti-quality! Like flat soda or soggy bread. Leave it. No one wants that. Besides, humans think they understand God because they understand themselves. That’s like a goldfish writing a biography of the ocean.”

The crowd laughed.

“God’s love and morality ain’t like ours,” Clemens continued. “We say ‘love’ and mean ‘as long as you do what I like.’ God says ‘love’ and actually means it. Scary stuff.”

“So what do we do?” asked a nervous baker.

Clemens grinned. “Simple. Trust God. Faith ain’t a math test. You either believe or you don’t. You love or you don’t. And if you do, really do—then you forgive. You have peace. You stop pointing fingers and start reaching out.”

“But what about justice?” asked a stern-looking guard.

“Oh sure, justice!” Clemens said. “If someone’s out here stealing goats or lighting barns, give ‘em consequences. Just don’t throw ‘em into eternal fire for drinking wine on a Wednesday. Come on now.”

A child tugged his sleeve. “Should we fight?”

Clemens knelt. “Only when it’s worth it. Fight lies. Fight fear. Fight for peace. But don’t fight just to feel like a hero.”

He stood and surveyed the crowd. “Jesus set us free. He didn’t give us chains disguised as halos. Christians started pointing fingers so hard they forgot they had sin too. Accusation became a sport. But the truth? The truth is quiet. It whispers. Like a rattlesnake… coiled and still… until someone pokes it.”

And with that, Clemens tipped his hat, scooped up Barabbas, and wandered off toward the fig tree, whistling a tune only he and the lizard seemed to know.

Moral of the story?
Maybe don’t poke the snake.
And maybe—just maybe—Jesus wasn’t trying to build a courtroom…
He was planting a garden. 🌱