Conversations I, an Atheist Jew, Had With God About How Jesus Was Crazy and a Big Jerk, Part II

God: How you been? Having a good Hanukkah? Or Chanuka? Or whatever?

Me: I’m not really observant, you know?

God: Yeah, I know.

Me:

God: I got another story I like.

While he was in Bethany, reclining at the table in the home of a man known as Simon the Leper, a woman came with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, made of pure nard. She broke the jar and poured the perfume on his head.

Some of those present were saying indignantly to one another, "Why this waste of perfume? It could have been sold for more than a year's wages and the money given to the poor." And they rebuked her harshly.

"Leave her alone," said Jesus. "Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing to me. The poor you will always have with you, and you can help them any time you want. But you will not always have me." [Mark 14: 3–7]

So everybody’s supposed to sell everything and give it to the poor, except when Jesus feels a little stinky. Cause Jesus needs to be prettied up before he’s nailed up.

Me: Do you have a point with all this, or are you just taking cheap shots? Because I’m supposed to be working.

God: So go do it. Did I ask you to imagine Me? I’ve got all the time in the world, you can come back and talk to me or any of the other voices in your head later.

Me: You don’t have to be so pissy.

God: I’ll tell you this much: you Jews really did kill him. I mean, Pilate was a sadistic bastard and might have done it anyway, if he’d noticed Jesus. But he didn’t. Jesus had fuck-all to do with him. I mean, he even told people to be good little boys and girls and pay their taxes. Check it out:

Jesus sat down opposite the place where the offerings were put and watched the crowd putting their money into the temple treasury. Many rich people threw in large amounts. But a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins, worth only a fraction of a penny.

Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, "I tell you the truth, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on." [Mark 12:41–44]

Sounds good, right? I’m all for progressive taxation, and, you know, bully for that woman and her penny. But paying your taxes ain’t no mitzvah, Jack, not even if you’re poor.

Me: My name’s not Jack. Try not to get too carried away with your colloquialisms.

God: Oh, look who doesn’t want to play straight man again.

[Next time: Jesus boosts a ride!]

(Legitimate, non-flippant commentary here and here.)