The Situationtorium

"Greetings. I am Lucius Gracchus Scipio Bibulus and this is the Situationtorium! Our top story: Christianity. Innocent offshoot of Judaism, or dangerous cannibalistic society? With me this evening: Sextus Julius Africanus, Christian advocate."

"Lucius, it is preposterous to call Christianity a cannibalistic society."

"Well, it is reported that on regular intervals Christians eat the body and blood of a crucified Jewish insurrectionist. Sounds like cannibalism to me, Africanus."

"It's symbolic. They're just eating bread and wine, and calling it body and blood."

"You heard it here first. Christians aren't even good cannibals. This is the Roman News Network. Veni, vidi, reportavi."

Reason for the Season

The young Macphersons swarmed the Christmas tree like locusts on a ripe field. They greedily snatched at presents without regard for anyone or anything.

"Hold it right there," said Mama Macpherson, "You youngins have forgotten the reason for the season!"

"Sorry, Ma," the Macpherson kids said in unison.

"Why dontcha sing a Christmas carol, and think about who gave you those presents."

A melancholy verse rose in the living room:

Happy birthday to you.
Happy birthday to you.
Happy birthday, Baby Jesus.
Happy birthday to you!

Mama Macpherson wiped a single tear from her eye, "That's what Christmas is all about!"

On the Ark

They had been adrift on The Sea (since there only was one sea now) for four months. When all of the games of I Spy that could be played had been played, the Noah family was at a loss as to what to do next.

"It is so stuffy in here," complained Japheth, "and the animals sure aren't smelling better on their own. Who designs a boat with only one window anyhow?"

"God does," Noah said curtly.

"Oh. Right."

Shem asked ironically, "Are we there yet?"

Seven sandals struck Shem's face in unison.

"Go and clean the weasel cages," Noah said.

The Flood

"I spy with my little eye something blue," Shem's wife said as they peered out the window of the ark.

"Water," the rest replied in unison.

"I am so bored," said Ham, "Why doesn't Japheth play us another song?"

"Because the last string on my lyre broke two weeks ago," explained Japheth, "and dad won't let me gut any of the cats to make more."

"We need them to repopulate the earth later," called Noah from the other side of the ark.

"Does the restored world really need cats?" Ham asked, "Because I am really dying for a song right now."

Saul's Tirade

King Saul hurled a spear at his son.

"You let David get away?" Saul roared.

"He does not oppose you, father," Jonathan insisted.

"Lies! You hear the songs the maidens sing? They barely even mention my name. I'm the king, not that . . . shepherd!" The word tasted foul as it slogged out of his mouth.

"You cannot fight the will of God. Samuel said—"

"I am the one who united the tribes of Israel under one crown! No prophet, no giant-slayer, no deity known to men will ever strip me of my kingdom!"

The palace guards scoured the grounds for a harp.

Existential Quandary

"What is our reason for being here?" Fred asked.

"Well," Lenora tapped her chin as she pondered an answer, "that's a good question. Many philosophers throughout the ages have attempted to answer that question. Is life simply a mistake and we have to define our own purpose in life, or are we the handiwork of some omnipotent being? Those are just two out of hundreds of possibilities. Men and women of great intellects have spent entire lives trying to answer that simple question."

"No. I meant: What is our reason for being here at the grocery store?"

"Oh. We need milk."

A Psalm

I will praise the Lord in my tribulation,
For He has already saved me.

Where is the one who would do me harm?
He attacks with fists and guns.

He tells falsehoods against my name;
Let him tell his lies to God.

My body is broken; my name suffers.
Still will I call upon the Lord.

I pass through the flame as gold,
And I become strong.

I struggle in the cocoon of a moth,
And I learn to fly.

The winds and waves crash upon the tree,
But it stands the test of time.

I will praise the Lord in my tribulation,
For a home with Him is mine.

Josmar

"I had a revelation," Josmar said with righteous fervor, "from God." He spread out his fingers and raised his eyebrows as he said 'God' as if explaining a new concept to a three-year-old. "You know. The man upstairs? If he tells you something you do it."

"So let me get this straight," Secretary Garcia sighed, "God told you to hijack an airplane because that somehow would get you an audience with President Calderon to warn him about an earthquake?"

"Right."

"Did you consider you might just be crazy?"

Josmar sat silent for a moment. "I need to rethink my life."

"Si."

~~~
Based on a true story!

Biblical Puns

The sermon (thankfully) started off relatively normal by Pastor Sciutto's standards. It was nice and simple: Noah's Ark.

"God told Noah to build an ark," with a wry smile crossed Pastor Sciutto's face as he opened his homily, "So Noah told his sons, 'Boys, go for wood!'"

Absolute silence followed.

"Get it? 'Go for' wood? The Bible said Noah built the ark out of gopher wood. Go for? Gopher? It's a pun. Anybody?"

One guy in the congregation coughed uncomfortably.

"Ahem," Pastor Sciutto shuffled his papers, "Anyway, you should really get saved."

This was going to be a long Sunday morning.

~~~
Other stories with Pastor Sciutto

Father Flavian's Discount Icon and Relic Emporium

An unusually loud monk standing outside a nationwide chain store in a television commercial, "Come on down to Father Flavian's Discount Icon and Relic Emporium today! We've got all your articles of questionable religious significance at prices so low, you'd think we were mass producing fraudulent replicas which . . . ha ha . . . of course we're not, cause we're religious! And everyone knows it's impossible for religious people to be evil! We have bones of various saints, splinters of the original cross, holy grails, shrouds with shadowy images, and much much more! Be saved and save at Father Flavian's Discount Icon and Relic Emporium!"

Ancient Religion or Modern Environmentalism

The leader stood and addressed the gathered masses, "We have angered the gods of this world with our decadent lifestyle!"

Several gasps arose from the throng.

"By our own actions we are weakening and killing our gods," the leader continued, "so in righteous judgment they will smite us if we do not repent!"

"What do we do?" several voices cried.

"Return to the ways of our forefathers who pleased the gods!" the leader answered. "Make sacrifices to the nature gods. Only we can save them and ourselves!"

Yet it was for naught. The Ice Age ended, their lands consumed by water.

One Sentence Story Collection III

"Why do I have to do everything myself?" asked the last man on Earth.

Together they sang a song unlike any song they had ever sung before, nor would ever sing again.

The tactless preacher ended the eulogy, "He was crushed by his own hubris . . . also a steamroller."

John's malaise was thick and profuse like mayonnaise spread opulently over a ham sandwich.

Why Motorcycles Are Awesome

It was time for the message of the hour, but Pastor Sciutto was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly a motorcycle burst into the auditorium, tore down the aisle and screeched to a halt in front of the pulpit. Pastor Sciutto kicked back the kickstand, hopped off the chopper and proceeded as if this was commonplace.

"This morning's sermon will be slightly different from normal," he began, "It's titled: Why Motorcycles Are Awesome. Reason number one—"

"Blasphemy!" came a smattering of cries across the congregation.

"Ahem! Reason number one," Sciutto continued, "They're like bikes, but they also have motors on them."

Divine Encouragement

Special one, why the frown?
Don't let life get you down.
Sure, things don't look so hot.
You'd rather be where you're not.
But smile, special one. Smile.
I know you haven't in a while.
Your heart aches; lonely and sad.
But trust me when I say, "Be glad."
You are my special one; mine alone.
Now soften your heart from stone.
Trust in me; in love divine.
My special one, you will shine.
And then you will finally see
What it means to be loved by me.

The Tree by the River

I sat alone, alongside a muddy riverbank,
Underneath the shade of an old twisted tree;
Its roots spread wide and were firmly grounded.
And I wished I was that tree.

Instead I am chaff on the wind, blown to and fro.
Everything leaves me, like the waters rushing by.
There only for a moment, and then gone forever.
Friends forsake me. Enemies strike me down.
And I cannot tell which is which anymore,
Or even if there is a difference, or if I care.
The lines have been blurred. All is uncertain.
White and black mixed into unsightly gray.
My heart is taken and crushed time after time.
I cry out to the Lord, "Make me this tree,"
But there is no answer, so I sit and consider.

Are they friends who falsely accuse?
Are they friends who believe without question?
If I have erred, let me know and I will amend.
If I have sinned, let me know and I will repent.
Why then am I continued to be held in contempt?
What more can be demanded of me than perfection?
I am wronged by friends who are my enemies,
But I will continue to love and pray for them.
I am brought low, even to the depths of Hell,
But I will continue to hope they will be friends again.
And what is this but to try and demonstrate
Just a fraction of what God has done for me.
For when I falsely accused him, he bore a cross.
When I held him in contempt, he wore thorns as a crown.
When I was his enemy, he died for me.
When all hope was lost, he continued to live.

As I consider this, I still feel like chaff;
No firm direction, no understanding of what I am.
Who am I? What do I want for myself?
I desire not riches, or glory, or fame.
I desire not prestige, honor, or acclaim.
I simply desire to stop wandering without aim.
I desire a place of rest, a place to stand firm.
To stand firm like the tree I sat under,
And I looked up and saw the tree as it really was:
Gnarled and knotted, weather-beaten and bent.
And I realized I already was the tree,
And I was content.

Return to Calvary

Did I die a year ago
Or was it yesterday
Anew my life began
On that dreadful day

Memories fade away

Returned to that awful place
For what must I atone
I asked but no reply
I was left alone

Tears dry and disappear

The bloodstains still remain there
Remnants of long ago
Or was it yesterday
I will never know

Wounds given scar and heal

But doubt still lingers on