To Those Who Forgot That I, Jesus Christ and Son of God, Was A Massive Cuck
If most of My most vocal supporters met Me today and didn’t know I was Jesus, I think they’d hate Me.
Hello! My most vocal supporters. My evangelicals. My members of the Tea Party. My beloved loud, blonde men.
Over the past several years, you’ve repeatedly broken My heart. You’ve looked down on the poor. You’ve doubted My ability to turn monkeys into humans (are you not examples of this being a possibility…?). You’ve treated women the way men treated women in the Bible, which is nothing to be proud of. You’ve turned away needy immigrants and lock their children in cages, and you’ve done it all in My name. And rather than do things the old-fashioned way — mysteriously awaken your minds and hearts to the needs of others — I’ve decided it’s best to communicate this in your own words.
Here goes nothing.
I, Jesus Christ of Nazareth, Son of God and Savior of Humanity, am — using your words, not mine — a giant, globalist, social justice warrior cuck.
I know hearing Me, Jesus, the King of Kings and Bread of Life, call Myself a pansy cuck might make you uncomfortable. It might — what’s the word you’re all using nowadays? — trigger you a bit. Then again, if most of you people met Me today and didn’t know I was Jesus, I think you’d hate Me.
When I was alive, I was obsessed with defending the openly poor, female and gay. I wore My hair down to my shoulders (which were much darker than Obama’s shoulders, because I’m an Arab Jew) and I went everywhere barefoot like some sort of socialist vagrant cuck looking for His safe space. When confronted with the sick, I would heal them. Like, no questions asked. I wouldn’t ask whether they were on an HSA or a PPO plan, because TBH, I really didn’t GAF about anything except for healing people.
And when faced with the so-called dilemma of how to treat immigrants, I said, without any hint of sarcasm: “When a foreigner resides among you in your land, do not mistreat them.”
Now, do you think building a wall to keep needy people away from your bounty of resources counts as mistreatment, or do you think that I — the Alpha and Omega, an Arab, an immigrant Jew — would think the 10,000 deaths you’ve allowed on the U.S.-Mexico border is kosher? (Right! Have I mentioned I was an immigrant Jew?)
If you’ve even skimmed The Bible, you know that I mention the importance of caring for others 3,000 times. Three thousand times. That’s five times as much as anyone mentions sin, 30 times as much as anyone mentions money, and precisely 3,000 more times than the Bible mentions guns, capitalism and — trigger warning? — America.
Huh. Would you look at that? I think that’s the first time I’ve ever mentioned America aloud because I care about sovereign nations and man-made borders sooOoOoOoo much.
Does it make Me happy to have to define Myself in such politicized terms? Hardly. Despite how easily “cuck” and “libtard” roll off the tongue — even for a guy who spent his life speaking Aramaic — I’d rather not bring up politics at all. Before I was killed for helping the poor, I surprised people with how little I cared about politics. People called Me political for caring about the disenfranchised, but to Me, it had nothing to do with politics and everything to do with caring about the disenfranchised.
Let me drill it in a little harder: if something didn’t help the disenfranchised, I didn’t want anything to do with it.
So when I see you, the people who most loudly proclaim yourselves as My ambassadors, cheering at anti-immigration rallies and praying for safety in America while disregarding anything happening outside of it, claiming to represent My interests while acting in a way that does anything but, I have to make some assumptions. I have to assume that you’ve chosen to let your political allegiances shape your morals, your idea of who I was and the injustices you’re willing to tolerate, and not the other way around.
You won’t find this word-for-word in the Bible, but here’s a helpful hint: it really should be the other way around.
And that’s why, if given the chance to meet me today, I think you’d call Me the same thing you’ve called so many others: a blue haired, socialism lovin’, beta male cuck.
By all means, prove Me wrong. Close your eyes and picture Me — a long-haired, brown-skinned guy with funky-lookin’ teeth and a heart for the queers — and think about how you’d greet Me.
If you’re not pleased with the results, don’t worry. Like always, I forgive you.
Cara Michelle Smith is comedy writer and journalist living in Chicago. She has studied with The Second City, and her work has been featured on McSweeney’s Internet Tendency, Reductress and Splitsider, among other publications. You can harass her on Twitter here, so long as you do it creatively.
