Dear Baby Jesus,

While watching the movie Left Behind (starring Kurt Cameron) the other night, I noticed that among the left behind humans are also left behind dogs. My question for you, Baby Jesus, is whether all dogs get left behind or only sinner dogs that never accepted you? What about dogs in Third World countries who never even heard about you?

Thanks!

Brent

My Child,

Have you ever heard the saying, “It’s just a movie”? I assume you get that a lot, Brent, but it hasn’t really sunk in, has it?

I think I know where all this confusion is coming from, Brent. It happens all the time with film buffs such as yourself. Contrary to what the animated classic would have you believe, not all dogs go to Heaven. It’s just not done. However, I would say that most dogs make it through the gates, even the ones who have never heard of Me. The outcasts are limited to those that are so possessed by their own demons that not even Cesar Milan can whisper the evil out of them. It’s not that Dad doesn’t love all his creatures; He’s just found that those particular animals are too destructive to thrive in Paradise. Satan’s house is a hellhole, so he doesn’t mind a little gnawing and snarling.

In “Left Behind” (which stars a very special child of God, KIRK Cameron), some seemingly good dogs are left behind.  However, you must understand that the film was not inspired by quite the same level of divine intervention as, say, the Bible. People make mistakes. And sometimes these mistakes lead to a flood of nagging questions interrupting the Baby Jesus’ naptime.

And I would say that film buffs who wake the Baby Jesus with their inane queries have a greater risk of being left behind than any “sinner” pup.

Dear Baby Jesus,

I am having thoughts about hurling pumpkins at the McCain/Palin sign on my neighbor’s lawn, is that bad? Just wondering!

Love ya,
Mom from a small town, who can not relate to pit bulls in lipstick!

Dear Mom from a small town,

It’s been said that if you have thoughts in your heart about committing a misdeed, it’s as if you’ve already committed the misdeed. Since you’re already getting credit for the sin anyway, you might as well go ahead and let that pumpkin fly.

The worst thing about what you’re proposing is that you’re not going far enough. Why throw a pumpkin when you can throw a jack-o-lantern? The flames raining down upon your neighbor’s sign will really let him know where you stand. Dad often appears as a pillar of fire, so I don’t think He’ll mind too much. However, for something that’ll really leave an impression, try hurling some fish onto the sign. Hey, I even made some extra.

In regards to the pit bulls in lipstick business, I laid out some instructions that were cut from the final version of My Biography because the authors thought no one would be ridiculous enough to try it:

“Listen to me now, if a man maketh up a beast, that beast shall be an abomination among you.”

Yeah. Go ahead and let it fly. You’ll get a free pass on this one.

OK Baby Jesus,
Team Heidi or Team LC?
-Speculating in San Francisco

Dear Speculating,

In my Biography, there are numerous tales of rabbis trying to trip Me up by asking paradoxical questions and baiting me to take a side. The terms ‘Team Heidi’ and ‘Team LC’ may seem nonsensical to those with souls. Unfortunately, omniscience isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. While it does give me some comfort at times. (Barack wins, and no, he’s not the Antichrist), I am cursed with the knowledge that you are in fact referring to MTV’s “reality” show The Hills.

Now, The Hills doesn’t exactly bring up the best memories for me. You may remember that I was in fact crucified on a hill, and carrying a cross up a hill is no fun. It doesn’t take omniscience to know that Team Heidi, along with Spencer (who IS the Antichrist) manufactured rumors of LC’s sex tape, and that Team Heidi ruthlessly maneuvered past her friend to get that promotion in that one episode. Back in My day, I’d have to prevent a stoning when that happens, but for MTV it just equals higher ratings. Sigh. What will take a miracle is to get Audrina to see that Justin Bobby is so bad for her.

Although Team LC still has a lot of growing up to do, her heart’s in the right place. Until Heidi comes around and asks forgiveness from Lauren, The Baby JC is on Team LC.

Dear six pounds three ounce, in your swaddling clothes, baby Jesus,

Can we talk about this “Virgin” Pregnancy bit? Is it really such a miracle? If so, then is Bristol Palin’s baby the second coming of Christ?

Kellie

My Child,

There you go again, pointing backward. I understand that my mom’s virgin pregnancy can be confusing, but attempting to apply it to modern times is not the answer.

To address the first part of your question….Really? Did you REALLY just ask if My conception and birth was a miracle? Of course a virgin pregnancy is a miracle! Do you think that legitimate virgin births happen every day? Don’t be led astray by women in denial; there has been only one virgin pregnancy in history and you’re talking to the result.

There’s a difference between a teenage girl chosen by Dad to carry His son and a teenage girl chosen by a testosterone-driven ice hockey player to test drive his abstinence-only sex education. I assure you that Bristol Palin’s baby is NOT My second coming. That kid is in no way related to Me, not even halvsies. Can you imagine what My birthday would be like with that family crashing the party?

I’m not really sure what even led you to ask this inflammatory question, “Kellie.” Perhaps it was simply a weak attempt to make the Baby Jesus cry, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve been asked this question every single day for the past two months. Did you think you could conceal your true identity from the Son of God?

Look, Sarah, you can ask all you want but that won’t change the fact that you are NOT the grandmother of God. Not now. Not ever. No amount of badgering will change that. I suggest you go home and break the news to Trig that he’s going to have a little brother or sister.

See? Two can play this game.

Sweet baby Jesus,
Should I have Domino’s, KFC or the always delicious Taco Bell for dinner? Once again, you have given the world too many choices…
-Amy

My child,

You are right about one thing. There are many choices in life. Boxers or briefs. Tila Tequila or New York. Paper or plastic (or better yet, reusable cloth—the Baby Jesus was progressive way before those damn hippies caught on).

I love options, but I am greatly saddened your food choices have been reduced to pizza that is only acceptable when you are A) starving or B) wasted, fried chicken that is 90 percent MSG and 10 percent horse meat or “Mexican” food that is more effective than Imodium AD. It’s kind of like choosing from free tickets to “Beverly Hills Chihuahua,” a night of free babysitting from Britney Spears or a hunting trip with Dick Cheney. There is no good choice.

What happened to the days when people would buy food fresh from the market every day to prepare for dinner? I’m talking seasonal vegetables, fish just caught that morning, bread hot out of the oven. Call me old-fashioned, but I’m pretty sure that’s how you’re supposed to eat! Dad did not intend for you to defile your body, His great work of art, by filling it with frozen, freeze-dried, deep-fried crap you buy at the drive-thru.

What’s that? You’re too busy to cook a well-balanced meal? I’m sorry, it’s pretty freaking exhausting fielding your questions and prayers all day long, but I still manage to find time to whip up a nice pad thai at the end of the day. Please, do yourself a favor: turn off “Survivor” and go make yourself a dang quesadilla.

Dear Tiny Jesus,

Vice Presidential candidate Sarah Palin recently made the statement that it is God’s will to build an oil pipeline in Alaska.  Does she frequently speak to your Father?  If so, what other things has he told her to do?

Sincerely,
Marrack Schmobama

My Child,

What you’ve done with your name is clever, Mr. Schmobama. Who taught you such a wily means of disguise? The Secret Service, perhaps? Don’t worry, My Child. I won’t blow your cover.

Onto your question. Yes, Sarah Palin does frequently call out to Dad. So do lots of other people. World leaders, megachurch CEOs and that lunatic standing on your street corner with a pie pan on his head (oh, you know the one I’m talking about). Dad gets an earful every day. The problem is that He doesn’t really have time to issue responses to the less pressing queries. (I’m lookin’ at you, Katie Holmes. You got yourself into this mess and you’ll get yourself out.) In their desperation to avoid the responsibility of making a decision, people often imagine that Dad has told them what to do.

Dad doesn’t really get too upset about this. Because direct communication with God faded from popularity in the late 14th century, this tactic usually comes back to bite the liar in the ass. If Dad were to issue advice to His follower, you can be damn sure He would tell him or her how to relay the information in a believable fashion. Hint: “God told me to build an oil pipeline” ain’t it.

As far as I know, Dad has only told Sarah Palin to do one thing. I let you guess what that bit of guidance was (go ahead and rule out any actions that sparked a major ethics investigation). However, like most unsolicited advice, it fell on deaf ears.

I suppose the moral of this story is don’t believe anything Sarah Palin says about Dad, unless she’s discussing losing the election. In which case, she listened better than We thought.

What would the baby jesus do to offset his carbon footprint?

Margaret

My child,

Let me first answer your question with things I wouldn’t do. I would not drive a Hummer. Ever. Just because you put a metal Me Fish on the back doesn’t make it okay, either. I would also not drive a pickup truck with an airbrushed tailgate featuring dream catchers, eagles, deer or wolves. Those CFCs are murder for the ozone layer! I would also not operate a megachurch with a scrolling marquee sign out front. (I would, however, keep the church’s giant plasma screen SpiritTron3000® sign to watch football on.)

Truth be told, there’s a pretty good model for reducing your carbon footprint in my Biographies. My buddies and I rolled around on foot, lived simply and didn’t buy things we didn’t have to. We were able to pool our skills to do everything we needed: fishermen, a treasurer and Myself on carpentry.

I’d also like to point you towards the poem “Footprints in the Sand:”

The Lord replied, “My son, my precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of suffering, when you could see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.”

I say to thee now, follow my example and pick up your fellow man; carry him where he needs to go. If we all pick up someone and carry them, we’ll cut the number of carbon footprints completely in half.

Dear Baby Jesus,

Aren’t you worried this may come off as sacrilegious?

-Righteous in Richmond

Well, Righteous. I suppose what some may call sacrilege, others call harmless fun. What some may call heresy, others call a sense of humor. What some call evil, others call Dick Cheney.

Look, I fully admit, were I not the Redeemer of Man and, you know, sort of immune to the whole damnation thing, I wouldn’t just have a first class bus ticket to hell, I’d be driving the bitch there. But as I Am Who Am, the Royal “To Be” Verb, I think I can take my chances on whether or not this is sacrilege and just focus on the important things, like football and whether or not those Jonas Brothers are lying to me about the whole abstinence thing.

But in case you were concerned for your own soul, and you haven’t really gotten the point that Dad doesn’t really damn sarcasm, here are a few warning signs that you may have actually died and are currently in hell.

• All food tastes like stale Funyuns, all drink, Fresca.
• Every time you turn on the radio Andy Gibb’s “Shadow Dancing” is playing.
• You wake up late Sunday morning after a night of drinking and this man is there to greet you with breakfast in bed.
• Backstage at the New Kids On The Block reunion show, you hear Karen Carpenter’s “Superstar” and, for the first time, you know exactly how she feels.
• Upon taking your seat for a cross-Atlantic flight, you realize this man will be seated to your right for the duration of the 12-hour journey and this man to your left. (For the record, falafel is not on the approved topic of conversations list).
• Rob Schneider. Rob Schneider. Rob Schneider.
• President McCain.

Should you not notice any of the following signs, take comfort for you’ve probably only committed the venial sin of laughing at one of my jokes. You haven’t broken your friendship with the Big Man, you’ve only damaged it by supporting my comedy (I had dreams of a stand-up, but Pops had other plans for me… sigh, Jesus tears.) The Good News is that salvation is still possible through temporal punishment. You may wind up in purgatory for a few years, you may just pass go after a week or so and head straight on to Heaven. You may have to just do a few hours of community service or you may have to carry Clay Aiken’s child. Whatever happens, you’re probably payin’ the piper somehow, son.

O Sweet Baby Jesus,

You never grew up.  Why must I?

Yours,
Befuddled Back East

My Child,

Oh, Befuddled. You ARE confused. Did you ever read past My miraculous birth and youth in the Gospels? Because, if you had, you would know that I did grow up. I grew up, preached my message of love and acceptance and was consequently beaten and brutally killed by my own people.

But I’ve found that image can be distracting to those Dad blessed with weak stomachs. Because I’m not really in the business of freaking people out these days, I like to leave My inquisitive followers with the image of an innocent, yet wise child poised to answer their questions. It seems less judgy, no?

So, Befuddled, I grew up and so must you. Why? Because if no one grew up, this world would be run by children. Dad would be better off if He handed the Earth over to chimpanzees. Children are tiny, and they have tiny brains. Their wee heads need to expand before they can house common sense. Dad loves kids, but He’s never really been able to perfect that glitch so He just labeled the tendency to throw tantrums and eat insects childlike spirit and called it a day.

If what you’re really asking me is why you have to get a job, the answer is simple, My Child. You may not want to work. But since you have a computer and possess solid spelling and grammar skills, my guess (ha!) is that you’re fairly privileged. Dad has blessed you with the opportunity to make a living for yourself and your family. Now, whether you can find a job in this crushing economic situation you humans have created is another question entirely. Frankly, that’s not Dad’s problem. You’d still be operating on the barter system if He had anything to say about it.

So buck up, find gainful employment and stop crashing on your mom’s sofa. She’s sick of it; she told Me. If wearing a tie really bothers you that much, why not take steps to maintain some of your childlike spirit? I know a cask of wine always did it for us back in the desert. Just don’t forget all your adult inclinations. No one likes a pants wetter.

Dear Baby Jesus,

Why does your mom’s face keep appearing on random crap, like grilled cheese sandwiches?

Sincerely,
Caroline

My child,

Why does your mom keep appearing at my bedroom window every night?! (Sorry, the Baby Jesus can never resist a good “your mom” joke.)

To answer your question, people these days unfortunately spend a lot of time around “random crap like grilled cheese sandwiches.” Two-thirds of you are overweight and one-third morbidly obese. Have you ever tried standing on a cloud? It can’t support all that weight! I like to stay trim by walking around the desert all the time. As you can imagine, my calves are cut.

My Mom’s a busy lady, and like any mother likes to drop by when you least expect it. So yes, you can keep looking toward the sky, or notice when humanity mentions a selfless act or two, but She’s been there, done that. This helps keep you more on your toes, too. Think you’re just cutting a lemon? Boom! Virgin Mary. Frying up a burger? Our Lady of Guadalupe, in yo house! One very popular option is to put your Divine Revelation up on eBay. Let’s remember to tithe though, yes?

P.S. The Baby Jesus enjoys salsa as a secret ingredient to My grilled cheese sandwiches. Just remember to eat around any apparitions you might find.