Older Woman Waiting for a Ride on Sunday

Steenwijk_what a church

Though god sees mostly
through and inside us,
she is wearing her best earrings,
wielding a shiny purse chosen
for the occasion.
Though god at a stroke
swamps and destroys,
unleashes cholera on the already-ragged,
crushes to death
3rd graders in Haiti,
and In His Mystery
swipes with seeming anger
at luckless townships in Tornado Alley,
she shivers with the anticipation
of cozily hunkering down in her
pew among friends and loved ones,
all that stained glass,
the bath of color,
sunstruck pastels of the hereafter.
The dispossessed
and the well-fed
praise god;
one wanders tearily through diseased muck
clutching with starved paws
a mortally wounded baby
begging for God’s goodness,
one hugs herself beneath the vaulted architectural
dome of heaven,
pleased in her new earrings
feeling the beatific dullness of Christ,
daydreaming about coffee cake,
wishing the loquacious kindly pastor
whose words are meant to edify
would shut his trap.

Prince of Peace Goes into Hiding as Anxious Magi Swarm Frankincense Outlets



Anywhere, USA – The Prince of Peace was in hiding today as a Christian nation began the worrying, yearly commemorative search for bargain myrrh and other humble whatnots. On the heels of the traditional Thanksgiving banquet a Pavlovian bell was heard faintly to chime and the sea of Modern Monetized Magi poured into big box outlets like a debris-strewn storm surge, swarming over police barricades, mashing humanoid dents into metal security doors and beating each other with Roman Centurion gusto. In a bid to outstrip the Filipino Faithful, who during the holy month of December are known to ritually crucify themselves to honor Christ’s sacrifice, well-fed Americans in their millions ran angrily amok with their chins and fat little arms, swinging dimpled fists and trampling one another in pious if historically ill-informed scenes intended to honor Christ’s Passion.

“J-e!–e!-e!—e!-e-e!–e!-s-u-u!-u!-u!-u!-uh!uu!-u-uu!- s-s-ss!-s-s dad for our s-s-s-ss—s-s-sins-s-s-s-!” sang Mary Faversham in a jittery voice of praise while jogging at full speed in the direction of the flat screen TV bonanza in aisle 7.  Crossing herself very approximately with her free hand while straight-arming and clawing with the other, she hustled forward with a pilgrim’s ardor. The other faithful could be seen to surround the offered bargain merchandise, their Sacrament, climbing atop each other in His name, Glory be to God. The Lord made a furtive 11th hour appearance and from behind a phalanx of jittery police watched the proceedings with an expression of profound discouragement, agonizing stigmata weeping with abandon.  When asked for comment He stroked His beard and spoke uneasily, His unexpectedly swarthy Middle-Eastern countenance furrowing.

“I died for this crowd,” He marveled under His breath. “AND I wasn’t told I’d be re-killed every December. It’s a tough game.”

Plague christians and the Second Flogging of Christ—a Christmas Rant

JC Has Had it with You Assholes

Christ died for these weaponized clowns, too. Several years ago The New Yorker told a brief and darkly humorous tale of a bunch of angry “conservative” folks in Oracle, Arizona.  They had convened with cameras and signs and spleen to scream at and harangue a bus full of scared Central American kids, arriving that day on their way to a youth home in the area. This would have followed the kids’ 1100 mile escape from the abject terror, gunfire and sadness of home.

The fleeing kids, new to our loudmouthed Land of Promise, would have shelter and food until our courts decided how best to place and help them. The Arizona Republican State Legislator leading the angry mob that day excitedly tweeted to his followers the arrival of the yellow bus, and the gang of grown-up assholes lustily gathered to angrily descend on it, hollering and pumping fists and screaming at the rattled kids that they weren’t wanted here.

It turned out the Republican Conservative (anymore read ‘Christian’) State Senator and his posse had mistakenly charged instead a school bus full of local kids on their way to the YMCA. Our gifted public servant, the State Legislator, had earlier BOASTED to a news reporter present that he’d seen the fear in the kids’ eyes through the bus window. He was later deflated to learn he’d terrorized the wrong children. 

Christian Right. Jumbo Shrimp

While assayers of the political culture gently shake their heads in reproof at the unfortunate lack of general Christian Charity in the deeds of “Christian” dipshits and lawmakers, it’s necessary to be reminded that these dirt clods are not just faltering in the presentation of something as meaningless as a brand; they are lavishly and ruinously failing as men and women of Christ, the reported Savior of a good many of them.

These individuals, presumptive believers who know Christ as a personal savior but can’t themselves be bothered to be even passably impersonal saviors, Know that Christ is the King of Kings, Know that Christ was killed for All of Us with whips and nails and a final spear in the guts, Know that Christ awakened from Death in a Turin-sponsoring blaze of radiation, Know that Christ rolled an enormous boulder away from his own tomb, Know that St. Thomas, in one of the New Testament’s most movingly, weirdly human moments, jammed his skeptic’s hands into Christ’s ragged wounds and yelled in panic. The Church of the Holy Sepulcher in Old Jerusalem actually houses, in a sealed inner sanctum, Christ’s reported tomb. You can tour the Garden of Gethsemane in broad daylight now, and with very little chance of Roman guards barging in to violently and unwittingly fulfill a cryptic promise.

These stirring wonders are archaeological, historical, and actual—and are being sullied by the damaged Lilliputs who have kidnapped Christ, pilgrims who frequently board their own buses and are hauled around the holy land with their jaws open, their eyes misting, their hearts fluttering like open books, heads bowed in necessary and spiritually justified attitudes of humiliation. Whatever you and I believe, the Christian individual lives by a set of scriptural truths, moves easily in the realm of the improbable God-sanctified milieu of Christ’s Passion, is exalted and instructed by Christ’s recorded miracles, and by His self-abnegating mercy.

Christian Right and the Wrong Temple

How then to explain these pious jackasses coming home from their heart-instructing Holy Land junket to support the quashing of food stamps, the stripping away of health care, the “draw a dollar-sign in mid-air” veneration of Rand’s John Galt?  Our Christian Right are spoiled bitch christians (lower case) who see mercy as a marketing tool.  These pricks are no more believers in Christ’s resurrection than they are in Felix the Cat’s magic bag. If they’re not fakes they’re grand-scale morons.

There comes a time when dithering needs to be set aside and the wantonly stupid addressed in the indecorous language to which their bold, projectile inferiority obliges them. The christian right, and I’m talking about the rancid political label here, are neither. They are engaged in the sort of bullshit that used to so enrage Christ He would trash the money-changers’ tables in the Temple and churlishly send herds of bewildered pigs in their thousands charging over a cliff. Can you imagine being a flogged and bloody Jesus and having died for THESE FAKES?! I apologize on their behalf for the second flogging, Lord.

Dear Confused Public Servant/Phony Christian. Stop riffing on the Bible and go buy yourself one – or swipe one from the Gideons next time you’re hooking up with your buxom lobbyist pal.  It’ll be that white book with the zipper under the alarm clock on the bedside table. I recommend the red-letter edition, where your Lord’s words are helpfully highlighted for the benefit of you raging dumbasses who are evidently unfamiliar with His marching orders. If you profess fealty to the Son of God (that is, Jesus Christ, whom you solemnly invoke without blushing) DO AS HE SAYS.

Christ’s Woeful Ignorance of Tax Policy

Christ’s undiluted command to help the poor is not symbolic, is not hip culture-speak for situational compassion, doesn’t nod to the tax code, and couldn’t give a shit about GDP. Christ didn’t frame his commands in terms of tax policy. You venerate Christ for having allowed himself to be beaten, scourged and crucified to death. FOR YOU. Remember? You think that was easy? In Gethsemane He actually asked to be let off the hook. “Is there another way?” You don’t think there was another way, Christian public servant. Christ was enacting an unavoidable prophecy. There was only the impossibly painful way for Him. You believe that in His Glory, Christ gave Himself over to be horribly beaten up and maimed to save YOU. Right?

So what’s with all your foul bullshit?! Are you insane or stupid? WHO DO YOU THINK YOU’RE KIDDING, ASSHOLE? You’re not fooling Christ.  This is not a voting bloc issue, not a legal issue, not a tax issue, not a resources issue. It’s a New Testament issue. Conservative Christian politician, if you believe the poor in the U.S. have it too good, if your goal is doing away with social programs that help the disenfranchised, if your legislative goal is making it MORE difficult for a poor person to get medical treatment, if you think the bootstrap is more potent than the cross – tell your pastor you are leaving the Christian church, because in your ‘reading’ of the New Testament (red letter edition!) you made a mistake and hadn’t realized you would be asked to sacrifice convenience, tax monies, government resources and effort, and all this other worldly crap to help the needy. Christ spoke very plainly on these issues, very very plainly; WHAT IS THE ******* CONFUSION??!!

Fools, but not for Christ. [1 Corinthians 4:10]

These fools are not Christians, literally or colloquially. They are Tacticians. The conservative movement famously made Christ the hood ornament on their war wagon some years ago in order to wave into the tent those folks who would otherwise have seen no reason to join a party that nakedly put the individual above the community. Good Christian people signed on, many of them of that economic stratum the Republican Party anymore uses to clean the soles of its golf shoes. In an instance of Genetically Modified Politics the ‘Right’ have reverse-engineered Christ into a proselytizer for American success, known in some quarters as “prosperity theology”. This despite His straight-faced warning that a camel will squeeze through the eye of a needle with much less effort than it takes a rich lobbyist to enter Heaven (red letter!).

Look it up. Matthew 19:24. I say this not to slight the rich, who have what they or their forbears have rightfully earned, and that is as it should be. It does point up, though, the unusual fact that the Republican party’s spiritual leader had His own qualms about the monied citizenry to whom the Republicans owe their everything, and whose overweening liquidity fuels the Right’s lobbying efforts against the interests and well-being of Christ’s poor.  These lying (or stupid or both) revisionist Christians have formed their own Council of Nicea and are editing the Word on the fly to their own beige, simplistic, capitalized designs.

Capitalism, Libertarianism, the zero-sum primacy of the individual who aspires to a monied and exalted Self – these are arguable designs for social policy that merit discussion and come packaged with utilitarian pros and cons. But there is no Jesus there. You are simply a garden-variety moron if you really believe Christ was murdered so that you could take health care and food assistance away from the poor. And you’re the one who says He isn’t dead at all. Christ was flogged into the next world for YOU. Right? Act like it, “conservative” legislator. Take a page from His book and help the helpless. It’s not terribly complicated. 




Christmastime is Here

Charlie ChristmasAnother Christmas. A youngish carpenter was, quite a little while ago, viciously beaten and then entombed. Today we raise a toast and warmly exchange gifts in commemoration.  In another setting we would be required to scourge each other, or worse; build something. So we have it easy, those of us with food, etc. The fact remains that if Christ had been drowned in a bathtub church spires would today be surmounted by that instrument of His sacrifice and the pious would wear porcelain bathroom fixtures about the neck. I mean no disrespect. Something interestingly explosive happened ~ 2000 years ago, but it does not seem to have been of sufficient gravity to sweep aside pediatric cancers or the present starvation of nearly 1 billion of those creatures made in His image, who both spin AND toil and yet can’t get the respect accorded a lily of the field .

O This Year my Inadequacies Surround me like a Crowd of Flying Ants, the stinging kind. They hover helpfully at face level and they go for the eyes with gusto. I shall do better. I shall do much better.

God bless us, every one. Please?