God gave up the Pope for Lent
I had a plan.
I wanted to shake things up and get people to really talk about God and their relationships to fellow man. I wanted to do something big and bold that would have the masses talking. Those who know me understand that I do things not out of anger, but because I loved and treated people like how I wanted to be treated — also known as the Golden Rule. I made it.
As with all my actions, they were misunderstood and taken out of context. Humanity over time decidedly devolved my message and changed how I wanted people to live. As Aristotle says people are just cracked vessels — imperfect. That imperfection led a lot of people to do horrible and unspeakable things in Jesus’ — I mean my — name.
I felt anger because the people strayed from my message and perverted the Church. The banker creeps that were in my temple only paled in comparison to how I felt up until a few days ago.
This time, I didn’t want to just crack the whip. What I needed to shake things up and get people involved in their fellow man again. The Church which was and still is an abysmal failure needed drastic reform. I desperately needed to beseech my flock.
What would get the attention of my followers? I asked my Dad what to do. Like usual, he was silent. I sat, I pondered, and I reflected. My pal Karl Marx walked by and saw the contemplative look on my face. He looked at me in my seat at the right hand of the Father in Heaven and asked me what was puzzling me so much. I told Karl about my plan to bring reform and new thinking to the Church. He sat in front of me and started to talk.
Karl reminded me that so many times in history, a revolution happens and the same revolution dies and something more farcical takes its place. He also told me despite all this, my church was so antiquated, archaic, corrupt and perverse — if I was going to bring change, I needed to do it big. During the conversation with comrade Marx, it finally hit me that Lent was coming up. I sprung from my seat and told Karl Marx he was a genius! The revolution could potentially start by my exclusive participation in Lent. The Church needed to be broken in order for it to be rebuilt. To those ends I decided that a couple of days before Ash Wednesday, I needed to make a sacrifice upon my Church.
I looked my Father in the eye, and I told him that I was doing something bold and something so historic that everyone would take pause. God looked me in the eye and asked me what needed to be changed. I was furious.
Between the Crusades, witch burnings, killing of abortion doctors, the Westboro Baptist Church, the censoring of women (including my wife Mary Magdalene), lynchings, killing homosexuals and the turtle’s pace reaction to Adolph Hilter’s holocaust, our Church has tremendous problems. I argued that the Church was corrupt and I needed much more than a whip to drive out the wicked stench of corrupt patriarchy in my house. I told my Father everything needed to change. I am going shake up the faith.
For Lent, I gave up the Pope.
For Lent, I gave up corruption.
For Lent, I give you justice.
For Lent, I give you revolution.