You know, call me Mr Not-quite-grasped-the-whole-point-of-Churchiness if you like, but there's always been one thing that I've never quite grasped about Christianity. It is this:
How the hell are we going to explain all the crucifixes to Jesus when he comes back? Can you imagine how awkward the Second Coming is going to be?
He's going to have a hard enough time sorting out Whores of Babylon and the like, without the total embarrassment that will be his first meeting with the people he's left in charge for the last couple of millenia:
J. Christ: "Hey guys. I'm back, just like I promised. Have I missed much?"
Pope: "Oh, not a lot. Just two thousand years of war, death and persecution in your name. The Spanish Inquisition was fucking ace."
Archbishop of Canterbury: "We burned loads of Catholics for you. God, I LOLed."
J. Christ: "What? You did what?"
Pope: "Err... nothing. Shit. Nothing. Err.... Hey Lord - remember how you were killed to death on a cross in your last life?"
Archbishop of Canterbury: "Nails through the hands and feet. Speared. Crown of Thorns. Your suffering has been an example to us all. Not that I've actually done much suffering myself per se."
J. Christ: "It's not a memory I care to dwell on that much, to be honest. I don't care if I never see another cross in all my li... HELL'S BELLS! What in the name of parted buttocks are you wearing?"
Pope: "We've all got crosses, Lord - just like yours! Aren't they great?"
J. Christ: "Buh...?!"
Archbishop of Canterbury: "See? Mine's got a little Jesus on it. A little Jesus in his final, agonising death throes."
J. Christ: "Wha...?!"
Pope: "And look - if you press the little button on this one, it plays the theme tune to the popular TV series 'The Vicar of Dibley'."
J. Christ: "You... you... utter shower of BASTARDS! Just wait until my Dad hears about this, there'll be some right old smiting, I can tell you for nothing. You'll be going round calling the wife a prossie and a slattern next."
J. Christ: "Oh, FFS, that's the final straw. I'm off fishin' with the lads - you bunch of GITS!"
Pope: "Oooh, touchy!"
Archbishop of Canterbury: "LOLz! Thank Christ He's gone. Had any good choirboys lately?"
First class ticket to Hell, please.
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Here endeth the plug.