The God Gag

December 16, 2007

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Jesus was a little baby. Christians believe He was the Son of God. (we are all Children of God)(the mystical body).

Don’t you think Jesus would have written something himself? It was such an important mission. (As is ours.) Why allow chaos and doubt – why make the path convoluted and contentious? Why not simplicity and congruency from the Prince of Peace?

Perhaps there are other princes serving themselves – magicians to our minds. Sleight of hand artists yelling threats of damnation to distract and befuddle.

Yes, there is always something fishy in this cosmos – as if gangsters take over a loving God. Power plays. Land grabs. God gags.

 

About – myReligion

November 16, 2007

I was raised a Roman Catholic. I attended Catholic schools my entire educational life. I have been taught by Benedictine nuns, Marist brothers, and Jesuit priests.

I consider myself fortunate that I was required to study Theology and Philosophy. It is sad to realize that the vast majority of college graduates today are not required to do so. “Teach people to think for corporations and not for themselves”, seems an apt portrayal of modern educational programming.

In some of my poems I criticize organized religion in general and Catholicism in particular. I focus on Catholic because that is what I know best. I hope insiders of other faiths continue to criticize the incongruence and extremism in theirs.

the God Cage

November 7, 2007

We frame God
in a cage of words
like a monkey
begging for coins.

EWTN watch

November 5, 2007

Heard on Nov. 3, 2007:

“Only Christ can unite a very sick and sinful human race.”

(Oh, by the way, speaking of sick and sinful – look at the cost of this merchandise at their website)

Viva Las Vatican

September 13, 2007

I was taught
only Catholics are saved.

I would worry
Elvis might burn in hell.

I did pray
for his conversion.

Boys bet dollars at the wheel –
detached from any holy values.
Greed and thrill keep their interest
as calculated.

The public address blares
a Michael Jackson crotch clutching song.
It can be heard inside the empty church.

Grandmothers swill down halushki with butter.
Young girls strut about with killer legs,
blowing off the uncool.