What would Jesus do?

I found this a while back and I really can't remember where. It's written by Andy McPherson, who is a writer who also serves as a care worker for people with disabilities at Bethesda Christian Homes. All I can really say is "ouch" and even though I know Andy goes over the top in his satire, we have to admit that sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction...

Protecting the Neighbourhood
By Andy MacPherson

I have heard the call. I have accepted the responsibility, and I thank God my family has been chosen to be a model of justice in my neighborhood. We are a light that shines in the darkness, and darkness shall not overcome us. There is a wonder working power in the goodness, the idealism, and the faith my family possesses. We will use whatever means necessary to defend our freedom and to make our neighborhood secure. We are here to defend the hopes of all mankind and to eliminate evil.

The other day I saw my neighbours moving some stuff around in their house, and I said to myself, “Dear God, they are making a bomb!” I knew this, because these people had towels wrapped around their heads, and we all know what those people are like. I called some of my friends over and showed them, but they weren’t too sure. They suggested I wait and see before I busted in their front door and started shooting. I told them I was confident we would find all the evidence we needed once we were inside.

“Are you with me?” I yelled in an inspiring shout for freedom.

“No, it’s illegal!” They yelled back, then went home.

“If you’re not with me, you’re against me,” I shouted after them. One British guy and his family from across the lake stuck around, but that was it. “We are fighting evil here ,you bunch of cowards. We are fighting for peace,” I said to no one.

We armed our children and surrounded our neighbour’s house then demanded they let us in to check the place out.

“No bombs here,” the leader of that household said in broken English. He was lying, because, as we all know, people who can’t speak English properly are habitual liars. I insisted a neighborhood delegation be allowed in to check it out. Finally they agreed, but we couldn’t find much. All this proved was that they had lying down to a fine art.

“No bombs here” he lied again, obviously insulting my intelligence. So we blew in his front door, back door, windows, and roof. I was proud to watch my boys rock the neighborhood with massive explosions. Our wonder-working power put on a hell of a good show. We shattered his house with technical precision, although, unfortunately, we had to shoot some of his children who got in the way. It was good chance to try out some new guns though.

“It’s like a giant video game!” My youngest shouted with delight as the front porch disappeared in a ball of fire. Some of my sons carried video cameras instead of guns to keep us all updated as to what was happening. Another son compassionately edited out the really gruesome scenes, because if there is anything I hate, it’s gratuitous violence on TV. Once the house was secure, we turned the place inside out. We tore out walls and dug up floors.

“No bombs here,” one of my sons reported in perfect English after the dust settled and we had the head of the house under citizens’ arrest.

The neighborhood had all gathered to watch the show. “We haven’t found any of the bomb stuff yet, but we’re sure it is here somewhere,” I assured them. “What we have found though is evidence that he was beating his children.” Unfortunately, just at that moment, some of the children we had just killed to restore peace to this suffering household were carried past. This seemed to distract our neighbours from fully appreciating the safer neighborhood we had created for them. Their ungratefulness really hurt, and I just could not understand why they hated us so much. I figured they were feeling guilty for not helping, so I offered them a second chance. “How would you guys like to help with the cleanup, repairs and perhaps some childcare? I don’t think it’s fair that we have to do everything. After all, we’ve made the neighbourhood a safer place for everyone, not just our family.” But they just shook their heads and went home.

“What would Jesus do?” I called after them as Jesus’ smashed body was carried past to be stacked with the rest of the collateral damage.