by Kim Fabricius (reposted from Connexions)
patriarch and misogynist, Steroidal Spirit,
intelligent-designer and micro-manager of heaven and earth.
I believe in Jesus, Jesus, sweet Jesus Christ, God’s only Son,
who was conceived by the Holy Spirit,
born of the Virgin Mary
(and anyone who questions the literal facticity of these events
on historical, biological, literary, canonical, or theological grounds, insert yourself after “Gandhi” below),
suffered excruciating, agonising, Gitmo-plus pain under Pontius Pilate
(see The Passion of the Christ – amazing film) –
though, not to be anti-Semitic (notwithstanding The Passion of the Christ),
the Jews were the real culprits –
was crucified, dead, and was buried;
he descended ad inferos (my pastor’s real smart and taught me the Latin)
[btw, here there is some manoeuvre for interpretation: Nadir of the Passion? Beginning of the Exaltation? I’ll cut you some slack. But my pastor says …],
and he will come again to judge the living and the dead –
and then, for all eternity, torture the crap out of anyone and everyone
who isn’t a born-again Christian and member of MY church
(gays and Muslims, in particular, not to mention Gandhi, are in for a real roasting).
Oh – I almost forgot [insert after the ad inferos line]: On the third day he rose again. Literally true, but not very important to us penal substitutionary folk.
[Charismatics may raise their arms. Non-charismatics should omit lines 2-4 and may omit “Allelulia!” in line one.]
I believe in the Holy Spirit – Alleluia! –
the second baptism, speaking in tongues, getting
barking like a dog, handling rattlesnakes, growing another limb,
and all sorts of other miraculous stuff that looks great on telly;
the Chicago Statement,
the holy catholic Church (not to be confused with the Roman Whore of Babylon),
the communion of my gang,
the Sinner’s Prayer,
the resurrection of the body (Cosmic Cosmetic Surgery Ltd.),
and the life everlasting (watching the benighted buggers eternally writhe in agony).