They must be drunk.
The people wondered as they heard rednecks speaking in the language their mother whispered in the ear as they snuggled against her bosom, while the lightning crashed outside. God doesn’t make us learn His language. He learns ours?
They must be drunk.
The people whispered to one another as they heard fishermen break down theology into something a 10-year-old could understand.
They must be drunk.
Their leader was killed by public execution. Caesar’s horses still stood on the neck of God’s chosen. Half their money went to Rome. Their families thought they were crazy.
They must be drunk.
They declare the mighty works of God in Walmart, shirts tucked in worn-out Wranglers with outstretched hands, burdened by callouses from hard labour.
God must be drunk.
He didn’t realize the woman at the well was a public sinner. He didn’t know his host had left the synagogue long ago to pursue money and women as a tax collector. He showed up at an important meal with important people, with a hooker.
God must be drunk.
He picked the wrong crown, it’s full of thorns. He picked up the wrong furniture. It’s not a throne but a cross. They are mocking Him, spitting on Him, calling Him traitor, and He doesn’t say a word.
God must be drunk.
He didn’t end the world in fire. He didn’t flood this crap hole again. He doesn’t condemn us all to Hell, but carries our cross instead. He must be drunk. He let them hang Him between two scum bags. He must be drunk. He told the thief He’ll see him in paradise.
God must be drunk.
He died for His enemies. He turned the other cheek. He took all of our shame and guilt. He took the blame. He must be drunk. He must be confused. I’m supposed to hang there. I’m supposed to die there. I’m supposed to be forsaken. Jesus, you must be drunk! You’re in the wrong place!
You’re in mine.
I’m in yours.
The Church must be drunk.
She turns the other cheek when the world smacks her. She doesn’t care if they call her a whore. She loves those who mock her. She tells God’s enemies that God loves them. She leaves the 99 to find the one. She spend all her money so some lonely single mother knows that there is a God and that God is for her. Drunk for her. Stupid for her. Liberal for her.
She must be drunk.
