It’s that time of the year again where everyone the world over slows down to contemplate the birth of Jesus. The greatest story ever told, it’s been called. For me, what really stands out about this story is that despite its massive and enduring popularity, fanfiction spinoffs never really took off to the same degree as they did with the Twilight series (no slight intended to the Book of Mormon).
Having taken place over two thousand years ago, details on Jesus’ birth are murky — the most archaeologists have been able to ascertain is that His arrival was heralded by three Magi who brought gold, Frankenstein, and Merv. Why these choices? And how exactly did Merv play into all this? As with so many other cold, hard facts regarding our common history, these are sacred mysteries, beyond the ken of man, even Benedict Cumberbatch, who appears to be really good at solving mysteries. Another astonishing mystery of faith is the virgin birth. And I’m not using the term “virgin” loosely here, like when people call olive oil “extra virgin”. What does that even mean? Like is the implication here that virgin oil has never boned, while extra virgin oil has not only never known the sensual touch of another, but has spent all of its evenings alone in its bedroom playing computer games? That’s simply absurd, and to even suggest such a possibility is blasphemy. In any case, it’s beyond me how she did it, but Mary had never, uh, you know… oh this is weird, why should I feel uncomfortable talking about her sex life when she never had one? Anyway, despite her virginity, she gave birth to a Child. This simple fact makes modern medicine and its most advanced fertility treatments look pathetically ineffective. She, a virgin, gave birth to a Child. A Child who was Man, but also God. Interestingly, the Father was actually God, who was also the Son, which kind of makes soap opera plots from our own time seem rather tame. And that’s not even getting into the Spirit part of this whole story.