I’m a survivor of the Catholic education system. Not one of those short-timers sentenced to a year or two in grammar school; no, I was a lifer, all in – grammar, high school, university (Seton Hall). Through all the Catechism, plodding through the writings of Thomas Merton, St. Augustine, Thomas Aquinas, and a convention others whose tomes haunt my dreams, I always wondered why the Jesus chose to begin life as an itinerant woodworker in the most backwater place in the Roman Empire.
How different, how stress-free and bloodless his impact would be had he lived today and used social media to spread his Gospel rather than depend on the second-hand recounts of followers’ followers or the foggy recollections of an elderly St. John. What if, instead, the Son of God chose to speak, on a global scale, directly to every living person on earth with whom he had friended or linked?
What would Jesus tweet?
I wonder how some of the Gospel passages would translate in Twitter? For example:
The Wedding at Cana:
Meshugganah Messiah: Cousin’s wedding reception is lame. Band’s playing too much #Sophocles. Cash Bar, too.
Meshugganah Messiah: @Mother asked me to make a wine run. Says caterer’s in a jam. Told her no because it is not yet my time. Back to party.
Meshugganah Messiah: Note to self: Don’t piss off mom. Had to think fast. Conjured solution that didn’t require wine run. Hope I didn’t blow cover.
Or this on the first disciples:
Meshugganah Messiah: Cruising boardwalk at #SeaofGalilee and met a fisherman named @Simon who likes to fish nude.
Meshugganah Messiah: He says day was a bust and had nets in knots. Hopped in his skiff and said let’s row further out to mellow. Got weed?
Meshugganah Messiah: Rowed (he did, not me) half-mile out. Reception down to one bar; hope you get this.
Meshugganah Messiah: Negative vibes from fisherman. Told him to drop nets here. He says “No fish, no way, no how.” Stared him down. He did it.
Meshugganah Messiah: Up to our family jewels in mackerel. Any more and we’ll capsize. Believe now, sucka?
Meshugganah Messia: Rowing back to shore (he is, not me). Told @Simon to put on pants or sunburn will crimp his sex life. He doesn’t get it. LOL!
Meshugganah Messia: Back on land. @Simon yells to cousins and other fishermen. They want to follow, too. Hey — Got me a posse!
Or this on the Sermon on the Mount:
Meshugganah Messiah: Check out the crowd! Kudos to @John and the advance team for promotion. Should give them a raise. Maybe not.
Meshugganah Messiah: @Andrew tells me concessions, CDs and T-shirts still at the warehouse in Nazareth. Teamsters want more mileage reimbursement for camels. Friggin’ Unions!
Meshugganah Messiah: Just three smoked herrings, two loaves unseeded rye and uneaten half of @Matthew’s bialy to feed crowd. Taking matters in my own hands.
Meshugganah Messiah: Oh great! I feed a multitude of five thousand with only scraps and is anybody impressed? What do they want now? Expresso?
Meshugganah Messiah: Cousin Rachel asked me to do “fish trick” again at her five-year-old’s birthday party along with the wine thing and any card tricks.
Meshugganah Messiah: Five-year old wants to know if I can make balloon animals too.
Or this on the growth of his ministry:
Meshugganah Messiah: Building street cred with #Romans. Several asked me to supper. Say they’ll make me an offer I can’t refuse. Italians!
Meshugganah Messiah: Quick, anybody . . . What’s calamari?
Meshugganah Messiah: #Centurian quietly asks if I could heal sick servant. Says no need to come to house, just say he’s healed and it’s so. Boss!
Meshugganah Messiah: Wait! Me to #Centurian: “Do you not want me to your house because I’m #Jewish?”
Meshugganah Messiah: He says, “Not hard to know you’re #Jewish. You’re 33-years old, live at home, and your mother thinks you’re God.”
On the Ascension:
Meshugganah Messia: Time to go. Gave troops a pep talk. Turning off BB for good. Aloha, Danno!
Meshugganah Messiah: Teased Simon about the day on his boat and him fishing nude. Gave him a new handle . . . @Peter. He doesn’t get it. ROHeavenL!