Perturbed by earthly crimes, God summoned James.
“Your brother’s failed miserably; his pleas
Have only caused more may mayhem, foolish aims
Involving ugly beanies, calloused knees,
And conflicts over penises and hair.
So go there, James, and see what you can do.
Just tell ‘em virtue doesn’t come from prayer —
And take along a miracle or two
But James, more logical than biblical,
Decided he’d rely on brain, not soul,
Eschewing narrative and miracle,
Promoting rationality his goal.
So down he came, and leased a dingy hall,
Where he proposed enlightening passers by
With logic, messages a bit cerebral,
And made to stifle cant and clarify.
But just as he began, a ruffian rose
And bellowed, “Hey, what miracles have you done?
How come instead of togas you wear clothes?
Can you make fifty Burger Kings from one?
“Make stiffs sit up? Turn water into wine?
James said these acts were all beyond his power,
And then the man said, “Aw, you ain’t gen-you-ine,”
And with his cronies headed for the door.
James shrugged, decided to return upstairs
To tell his dad what he had learned anew.
“No nails or thorns,” he said, “just booes and sneers;
Perhaps we’ll try again in a millennium or two