(Jesus enters Jerusalem, Pandemic edition)

Jesus rode into the city on a bicycle—by himself. His disciples were at home with their families. Thank goodness; they had been wearing him out before this quarantine began. Arguing about who would become President of the Southern Baptist Convention, Archbishop of Canterbury, and the next Pope. Then there was Simon the Zealot, insisting that Jesus should run for President, that the nomination wasn’t sewn up yet. Jesus had tried to convince Simon to put his energies into AOC’s campaign for Congress. “Simon, if the Democrats win the Senate, maybe you can get me appointed to the Supreme Court. I’d love to get there before Ruth retires. But please stop being a Jesus Bro; you’re ruining my reputation.” But hey, at least Matthew’s tax collecting background was starting to look better: Jesus prophesied that taxes were going to be cool again after all this was over.

The road was quiet, and frankly, that’s the way Jesus liked it sometimes. He felt bad for all the people in their anxiety and suffering, but he couldn’t say he missed those large crowds. He supposed his ministry was an essential service, but folks would have to tune into his live stream sermons and catch him being interviewed by Seth Myers on Hulu.

As he approached the Temple of the Light and the Rock and the Glorious Media, he was astonished to see scores of cars in the parking lot and people crowding into the sanctuary. Jesus sighed, dismounted from his bicycle, and stood safely across the street. He yelled across to the people entering the Temple: “Hey, what are you folks doing? Why aren’t you at home? Isn’t that why your church spends thousands of dollars on TV equipment?” The people were startled and murmured to each other, “Who is this guy? One of those antifa people? Someone from the liberal media? Or just a kook?”

Finally their exalted chief pastor and CEO, Rev. Theodolphus Fuller, came outside. He yelled across to Jesus: “Who are you? Who gives you the authority to tell us we can’t exercise our First Amendment rights?”

Jesus said, “It is written, ‘my house shall be called a house of prayer, but you have turned it into a den of infection. I would come over there and knock over all the pews, but I’m not going near you people. Just because I’m the Son of Man and in my thirties doesn’t mean I’m going to risk Covid19. Tell everyone to go home and quietly read their Bibles, hang out with their loved ones, and listen to some good music, maybe some Bob Dylan or Bach.”

Indignantly, Rev. Fuller snorted. “I’m not going to put Anthony Fauci ahead of God. You must be the Antichrist. We won’t listen to you! Come on, my flock. Let’s go inside and show that we obey a higher law than the CDC. Oh, hey, good to see some of you have your guns! We might as well exercise all our rights.”

Jesus wept.