THE ANSWER:  It comes to mind that Lamah himself has had several thoughts about my actual life that he had surmised from reading what little truth that had only possibly and actually been recorded in the Bible; a entirely different task in and of itself.  This sifting the truth from so many skullduggeries was accomplished rather simply by just changing that false veracity of the one most basic assumption; that I was a divine god by the felonious fact that the “Holy Spirit” had impregnated my ‘virgin’ mother.  After all, the basic texts were apparently never intended to have been read by anyone except an inner circle of clergymen, and it wasn’t until Martin Luther that even the clerics themselves really paid too much attention to the actual written words as opposed to their politically biased and interpreted meanings.  So, it isn’t at all surprising that some bits of the truth might have remained even though its subsequent interpretations were often and only postulated to fit the trends of the day, or at the very least, the various agendas of these Christian churches and their captivated clergy as it might have pertained to their own schemes and spiritual agendas with their respective congregations.  So let’s begin with one of these grossly misinterpretations of reality.  I was said to have died as a result of my untimely and most certainly political crucifixion.  First, I should explain that the whole event was misreported as to the actual physical events and most certainly as to the spiritual reasons for the attempted demise of my politically troublesome ministry.  It was after all, in a Roman dominated, Hebrew autocracy society that was already at death’s door from the relentless and oppressive subversions from all quarters that I had even dared to speak out so openly, and I even dared to suggests that the people themselves should possess free spirits entitled to experience joy that was then only the privilege of the Roman citizen or the corrupted Hebrew theocracy.  We were all essentially slaves that owed our bodies and physical wealth to Rome and whatever was left of our souls to a false god.  I wasn’t crucified for anybody’s sins; most of my people were simply too poor to have any easy access to that vast body of sins that were so ramped amongst the rich and powerful of my day.  I was simply a rather nasty thorn in the side of those few individuals who had continually enjoyed positions of privilege; absolutely nothing more!  Now, for the rest of the story!  I was indeed crucified, but before I had actually died or "given up the ghost" as some reported, there were those who had pleaded with the authorities to permit them to remove my body before the end of the day; as they had so vehemently claimed, for religious purposes that only the Hebrews held as some right of passage from ash to ashes.  This was certainly an exception to the rule of the day for the Romans to ever understand and had it not been for the pleading of several of the women and mothers of some of my disciples, I would have no doubt remained on the damn cross indefinitely just like all the other corpses that were deliberately left hanging as a rude reminded of Rome’s infinite power to rule our once sacred lands.  Mary Magdalene, more than any other disciple, had offered herself in sacrifice for my life.  Fortunate for me and my future I was removed from the cross with the Roman centurions’ backs turned in protest, as they saw no reason for the exception to have been made for such a troublesome Jew.  The women hurried me off to a rather remote dwelling and nursed my wounds and spirit back to a reasonable state of good health; at least I could walk again on very sore feet and weak limbs.  In the meantime, some, not all, of those faithful disciples who had been asked by Magdalene to remain in the area until I could have once again address them and share my thoughts about these rather devastating turn of events, did remain, although most of them rightfully feared for their own lives for having once been so openly associated with me.  When I finally addressed the remaining few I shared their fears and suggested that they ought to give leave of any further contact with me personally, and that I would willingly make myself quite 'scarce' in terms of the modern day vernacular.  To insure that such a plan was not in any way compromised, I didn’t share with any of them, my actual plans with the singular exception of Mary Magdalene who I also suggested that she too give way to prudent judgment for a reasonable period of time until any suspicions of my being alive was totally dispelled, especially amongst any Roman authorities as well a those temple authorities that had been repeatedly threaten by my very presence.  It was equally my concern that had any of these Hebrew authorities had any idea of my survival, they would have gladly betrayed any trust of that information.  This actual survival on my part and even its accurate report in one of the books of the New Testament had no real significance until much later when it had become necessary to assign me that godly privilege of immortality.  Then of course, history had to slightly, if not dramatically, reinterpret the truth to fit the Roman fantasy of that time and place, or should I say, Greco-Roman mythology?  The truth remains that I was one very fortunate man, NOT god, that survived an almost insurmountable set of dire circumstances, but actually lived to tell no other soul of this rather dramatic experience, as it was something that I simply wanted to put behind me and get on with the rest of  my life.