Tag Archives: jesus

Our spaceship has a Jesus fish bumper sticker

When the presence of a flourishing, alien civilization was detected via that new high tech orbital satellite, the Christian Brothers United Church knew that they had to bring the word of God to their extraterrestrial brothers and sisters, or, if they had some sort of a different biological gender categorization, that’s fine, they’d work out the terminology later.


And since nobody knows how to raise money like a Bible-belt mega church, it didn’t take long to fund one of those private space shuttle firms to build a rocket capable of transporting them across the galaxy. The demand of willing and able space-missionaries far exceeded the supply, and so church leaders spent months evaluating potential candidates, ultimately selecting a team of twelve of the most devout Christian men and women, ready to be the first human beings to share the Good News beyond the planet Earth.

At least, that’s what they thought. No sooner had they landed on planet Taphregamragon Seven (that was what the aliens named it, not us) did they realize that maybe Jesus had already been here. There were giant crosses on top of all of the biggest buildings, and even though they hadn’t yet had an opportunity to learn the aliens’ language or alphabet, the roadside billboards were almost identical to the ones on Earth telling people to tune into AM Christian radio stations.

And sure enough, as soon as they set up their universal translation systems, all the aliens wanted to talk about was Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. The missionaries were being out-missionaried by the very people they came to missionary. To make matters worse, apparently Jesus had been to Taphregamragon Seven very recently. He told all of the aliens about how quite possibly the worst planet that he tried to save was Earth. It was all in the Taphregamragonian Bible. From the Book of Snalphlaxyngians, Chapter 3, Verse 12:

“And the Lord Jesus said, Seriously, those Earthlings were such assholes. You have no idea. I tried everything. I was peaceful. I was nice. I brought one of my friend’s brothers-in-law back from the dead. And they crucified me. Whatever, I have to love them, I mean, I’m Jesus, but I don’t have to like them, because they sucked.”

And it went on and on like that, book after book. The missionaries were hesitant at first, but after a while they had no choice but to submit to the overwhelming evidence. They’d had it wrong all along. Luckily, the aliens really did embrace the peaceful and loving message of alien Jesus, and so they didn’t try to exact revenge or anything.

Instead, they sent the missionaries back to Earth, with a new mission, to spread the real Good News back to Earth, to show humanity how the Lord’s message had been mangled and misconstrued. Enlightened, the Christonauts returned to their spaceship’s hibernation cells and prepared for the long journey back to our solar system.

Only, in a weird twist of fate, while the missionaries were headed back to Earth, Jesus tried once again to bring his message to mankind. He thought, maybe they’ve evolved. Maybe they’ve learned something in the two thousand years since he was put to death in ancient Rome. Maybe all of those Star Trek episodes about peace and tolerance from the 1960s had some sort of a lasting effect on their culture.

And so next generation Jesus grew up on modern Earth and, when he came of age, he tried to make a name for himself as a twenty-first century spiritual leader. Only, now everybody had the Internet and cell phones, and so every time Jesus tried to say something, everybody just made fun of him online. Someone even took a cell phone video of Jesus getting his hoodie caught in the subway door in New York, and everyone laughed as they watched this animated gif of him getting pulled down the platform, almost but not quite getting his sweatshirt over his head before the train sped out of the station, pulling him all the way from Steinway St. to 36th Ave. in Queens. By the time the paramedics arrived, he was barely alive, with just enough breath in his lungs to say, “Screw you guys, for real, what a bunch of jerks,” before flatlining in the back of the ambulance while it was stuck in traffic on the Grand Central Parkway on the way to Flushing Hospital.

When the space missionaries finally came back to Earth, they were ridiculed for trying to spread the message of a Jesus who, unbeknownst to them, had already come back for a second time, but one who couldn’t get through to our technology obsessed Internet addicted society. The people of Earth thought it was all a joke. They thought that the missionaries were a joke, that new Jesus was a joke, that the alien world was nothing but a stupid, stupid joke.

And so they sent a bunch of warships to conquer the planet. And they did it. The aliens were too peaceful, so they hardly offered up any fight. The whole planet had a ton of resources, and we brought them all back to Earth, where everybody who financed the pillaging got super rich. They were already rich before, but now they were even richer, just permanently consolidating all of their power. And that’s it. That’s the end.

The end.

I could be bigger than Jesus

Lately, whenever I think about Jesus Christ, I can’t help but take note of the fact that I’m about the same age that he was when he started getting really big. Do I think I’m going to overthrow an empire and start a chain of events that will shape world affairs two thousand years from now? Probably not. But it’s possible. And just knowing that it’s within the realm of possibility makes me feel like my life can’t be that bad, that it’s not too late to really make something out of myself.


And besides, I have so much more going on for me than Jesus did. Like, Jesus didn’t have the Internet. I’m sure turning water into wine was really impressive at the time, but if I found myself in his situation today, first, I’d go up to the host of that wedding, I’d be like, “Come on dude, who throws a wedding and doesn’t buy enough booze?”

And then I’d take out my phone and say, “SIRI, tell me where the nearest liquor store is.” Right? In fact, if I were at that wedding two thousand years ago, not only would I not have been impressed at Christ’s little miracle there, but I’d be worried. “Hey Jesus,” I’d say, “you know we’re living in an age where potable water isn’t exactly a luxury. Maybe two thousand years from now some of the world’s luckier inhabitants will be able to easily draw drinking water from metal pipes conveniently located throughout their houses, but that’s not the case here.”

In fact, I’d venture to guess that most of the people that attended that wedding died. They got blackout drunk on miracle wine and they all woke up the next day totally dehydrated, I’m talking roaring hangovers. Which wouldn’t have been a problem if twenty-something instant gratification JC maybe thought out his actions further than just the present moment.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” he probably tried to reassure everybody, “just get me some of that leftover wine and I’ll turn it back into water.” And everybody was like, “Are you serious? It’s all gone. You drank most of it. Don’t you remember tying those two wineskins to your hands, insisting that nobody cut them loose until you drank both of them?”

All I’m saying is, history is written by the winners. Or, in this case, by the survivors. Notice that not once during the rest of the entire New Testament does Jesus dare turn anything else into wine. In fact, I think that there’s enough evidence later on that this early miracle actually held him back.

Because what about that time that he multiplied the fishes and loaves to feed all of those people? Again, what was wrong with people back then? You’re going to travel far away from home to the middle of nowhere to see an ultra-popular rabbi on his tour of the Holy Land, and you’re not going to bring food? You’re just going to stand around and wait to starve to death?

My point is, Jesus gave them food, great, bread, fish, delicious. But what about something to drink? “My Lord,” they probably begged him, “everyone’s complaining that, while the food is delicious, they can’t seem to find any water or wine to wash it all down.” And Jesus was probably like, “I … I can’t. I can’t perform miracles on water and wine. I made a promise. Never again!”

I’m just saying, Jesus was a big deal. But until he showed up when he was something like thirty years old, he was a relative unknown. And then he showed up and it was like, “Who is this guy?” just like Barack Obama did, “Yes we can!” Just like me, just like I can, maybe. I’ve got to come up with something, but the important thing is, there’s still time. I still have a chance to change history forever. Who’s with me?