Friday, December 30, 2011

BODY OF CHRIST: Is this savior plate microwave safe? Or a microwave sin?

CHRIST: Microwave Safe?* Or Microwave Sin?

Christmastime. The end of the year. A time of reflection. And today I found myself reflecting in the door of my microwave oven (I'd just cleaned it, so it was super shiny and reflective). I was about to place my prized plastic Jesus plate** that I got at the "99 Cent Only" Store in there to reheat a frozen dinner. But I paused...

Would my eternal soul be damned to hell if I placed him in there? Would Jesus' face melt? If I cleaned the plate after eating from it, would an image of the Savior's face appear on the sponge? If so, would scientists in crisp white lab coats try to carbon-date the sponge on the H2 Channel? (H2 is The History Channel that still has history on it). Maybe Rabbi David Wolpe or Simcha Jacobivici or James Tabor or other awesome experts would appear to comment on it? I had a LOT to ponder. But I was REALLY hungry.

Hmm, I thought-bubbled, the plate SAYS it's 'microwave safe.' What could go wr---

Ah, said a faint, Truman Capote-like voice, but is it Lucifer safe?

Damn it! He had me there. I really wasn't sure if this was a Lucifer-safe platter. What if the Roman nails from the cross were still in him? That could really be bad, because everyone knows you're not supposed to put Roman nails in a microwave. But the picture on the plate looked "post-ascension" to me, which would mean no nails. Still, I wasn't sure what to do. Finally I decided I'd risk it. Why? Well, for one thing I was really really REALLY hungry now. But secondly:

Christianity is the ONLY religion (at least the only one I'm aware of) in which the figurehead of the faith literally asks his followers to eat him. So I think legally I have more than a leg of lamb to stand on.

So, with the press of a few buttons: "doot! doot! doot!" (my microwave buttons are crazy loud-- like, "wake the neighbors up" loud) I had 60 seconds in which to say grace (I've clocked my Dad, a staunch Catholic, at under 8 seconds). 60, 59, 58... Bless us, oh Lord, for these, thy (45, 44, 43...) gifts which we are about to (30, 29, 28...) receive through the bounty of Christ our Lord, (5, 4, 3, 2...) Amen."

Once again my trusty microwave's beautiful beeps of done-ness rang out like church bells: "doot! doot! doot!" And out came a delicious, nutritious meal, resting on a bed of steaming hot Messiah.

Body of Christ, and pass the catsup (some gentiles still say catsup instead of ketchup).

Now who wants a trinity of tater tots??!

* Please... I beg of you.... no snarky Holocaust jokes about Jews and ovens. If even I can refrain from going there, so can you. I love irreverence, but there are limits. Oh, also? I know I might offend some people with this post, but FYI... I think Christ is awesome. Truly. All prophets rock. But Jesus likes it when I give him shit. I'm serious. Everyone else is always kissing his ass, and all "Oh, you're so perfect! I loved it when you turned over the tables of the money lenders!" Well guess what. It bores him. He hates it. True. So when he needs some tough love... when he really needs the truth, i.e.:

"Gimme your opinion, Mare-- beard, or no beard? Maybe a goatee? What do you think?"

Or,

"Mare, does this robe make my butt look fat? No, for REAL, Birdsong. Just tell me."

Where does he go when he needs that kind of BFF honesty? Who does he call? Uh.... a-doy!
Yup! I'm the only one who'll tell him, "Hey, Christ! You've got some spinach in your teeth. What were you... raised in a barn?" Then he always goes, "Uh, let me think... a-YEAH!" Then we laaaaaugh, and laaaaaugh til our sides ache. That's when I usually go, "Oh, my sides! Stop making me laugh, Jesus. My sides hurt!" "Then he always goes "Um, you totally can't complain about that around me." And then he starts pantomiming like he's a Roman soldier with the spear piercing his..." Then I always act like his Roman soldier impression isn't funny (even though it totally is), and he goes ""I guess you... " And then I chime in and say with him at the same time, "HAD TO BE THERE!" Bwahhhhh haaaawwwwh haaaahhhw haaaaw! Oh, sigh.

Anyway, that's what it's like when I hang out with Christ. He's cool with it. So you should be too.
Or not. I'm all about tolerance. So if you can't tolerate me? I can totally tolerate your intolerance.

**You really MUST check out the cornucopia of "Christ-y chic" dinnerware, coffee mugs and candles for sale at the 99 Cent store. Their selection is truly miraculous.

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