I once was blind, but now I see…
I think I’ve finally found the truth that really will set me free.
After years of watching so many of my fellow Americans convert while pushing him away, I’m think I’m ready to invite Republican Jesus into my heart.
It’s not inspiration or inner conviction or divine revelation that has led me to this holy conversion moment—it’s mainly just fatigue.
I’m tired.
It’s hard caring about people: waking up every morning and having to have empathy for someone who isn’t me, let alone someone who doesn’t even look like me, think like me, vote like me, talk like me, worship like me.
It’s fairly exhausting trying to actually live all that Gospel Jesus stuff: loving the least, being a servant, turning the other cheek, living humbly, tending to the sick and the poor, praying for my enemies.
I didn’t realize that being a peacemaker and a Good Samaritan would be such thankless, taxing, costly business—and honestly it’s worn me the heck out.
I was beginning to think maybe I needed to jump ship altogether; that maybe Christianity wasn’t for me, until I found Republican Jesus and he saved me from a life of sacrifice, humility, and selflessness.
Republican Jesus isn’t half as demanding as Gospel Jesus is. In fact, all things considered, he requires very little from me: say a quick magic prayer in exchange for a permanent Get Out of Hell Free card, a life of unrepentant privilege, and the right to judge the humanity around me however I please. It’s a pretty sweet deal.
With Republican Jesus running things, I’ll be able to focus on saving souls for the next life—which means I won’t have to be concerned with what befalls people in this one all that much anymore. Their poverty, their adversity, their suffering are really none of my concern. Oh sure, I’ll still be able to take enough interest in people’s personal existence to condemn them for the country they come from or the bathroom they want to use or their desire to marry to the person they love—but beyond that I don’t have any pressing interest one way or the other. Someone else’s life (as least as far of their pain or their needs) is none of my business.
Republican Jesus also frees me up from worrying about the planet heating up or the coral reefs dying or the honeybees disappearing. I can chalk that all up to a “groaning creation” that is well above my pay grade, and simply live with relative abandon, consuming and wasting to my heart’s delight, since the destruction of the planet will hasten Republican Jesus’ return.
As a disciple of Republican Jesus, I don’t have to welcome refugees or immigrants, or those fleeing war, oppression, and sickness the way annoying Gospel Jesus insisted—I can just tell them all to go pound sand.
I can spend and acquire and hoard as much as I want and not give it a second thought, because Republican Jesus is a capitalist deity who wouldn’t dare tell me that I can’t serve both God and money—the way Gospel Jesus would.
And all the annoying death, suffering, violence, and disease outside my door? I can blame it all on the sins of a fallen world, while I offer “thoughts and prayers” and consider myself off the hook.
The really great thing about worshiping Republican Jesus, is that I’ll still get to call myself a Christian—which will be helpful in simplifying the post-conversion transition. I won’t even have to edit my social media profiles. And as long as things stay as they are here, I can guarantee that I’ll always be well-represented in Washington and from the megachurch pulpits and on FoxNews—which is really all any nationalist religious person needs.
Sure, I’ll have to adopt a decidedly white, affluent, American, gun-loving, gay-hating Savior which will take some getting used to, but from what I’ve seen from so many of my friends and family members, it’s easier than it sounds. In no time, I’ll be worshiping banning books, shunning refugees, waving the flag, retweeting Breitbart, and telling the poor and the hurting to pull themselves up by their bootstraps— without having to worry about whether or not they even have boots.
I figure, I’ve given this Gospel Jesus thing a good go of it. I’ve been working that whole “love your neighbor as yourself”, compassionate, generous program for nearly half a century and what has it gotten me—except a diverse community, an experience of lives I’d never otherwise known, and the hope of leaving the planet a little kinder than when I found it. Not exactly a golden parachute and surely not profitable.
It isn’t like I’ll totally be exempt from empathy either. Of course, I’ll still get to care for my spouse and my kids and my parents and my friends, my kind—but beyond that, giving a greater damn will be at my discretion. Anyone else’s well-being or healthcare or kids or job (especially beyond our borders) won’t have to be a priority anymore.
I’m sure I’ll miss my old religion from time to time: the joy and kindness and the mercy, but I sure won’t miss the work. I’m looking forward to finally having a God work for me—instead of the other way around.
I think I’ll finally get everything that I as a straight, white, Christian deserve, for a change.
I believe Republican Jesus will make my Christianity great (and easier) again.
I’m ready.
