So Close to Jesus, He uses my Birthday when he Plays the Lotto

Have you met Betty Bowers, America's Best Christian?
Check her out at http://www.bettybowers.com/
Dear Fellow
American Theocrat:
As those of you who follow my blessed ministry know, Jesus has graciously waived almost all of His more ill-advised New Testament rules for connected, conservative Christians -- providing they meet retroactive, but stringent tithing guidelines. As America's Best Christian, I have, of course, played no small role in this joyous amelioration of Jesus' stated preferences. Indeed, the most useful waiver of scripture occurred after some coquettish wrangling on my part, which stopped perilously short of giving hope that my come-hither glance was anything other than something that happened to work with my Marc Jacobs dress.
After several bottles of a rather pretentious Brunello (that teetered on the threshold of being aloof until it was shown its place by my assertive Baccarat stemware), Jesus waved away His notoriously onerous "Judge Not!" proclamation with a dismissive fluttering of His lovely, if somewhat scarred, Caucasian hands. Friends, truly, the Lord does watch us from afar! Because I immediately recognized that His pantomime had been shamelessly appropriated from me (without, mind you, attribution). Yes, as the Lord floridly freed me from a biblical prohibition I had so often come close to almost following, He employed precisely the same vexed gesticulation I pull from my encyclopedic arsenal when seated in a restaurant near some odious creature that ignites one of those dreadful cigarette things or answers a cell phone.
If this bluntly carved caveat to Jesus' otherwise almost wholly acceptable teachings comes as news to you, someone has evidently not been paying attention to today's conservative Christian politics, dear. Judging is all the rage! Nevertheless, even the most loophole-dexterous Christian never likes to give the impression that one of Jesus' teachings has been forgotten, rather than simply ignored. That is why we take pains to show our awareness of scripture we otherwise seem oblivious about by graciously taking time to verbally apply any orphaned proscription to other people.
This is precisely why Republicans are not simply discarding "Judge Not!" -- to join "Give All Your Money to the Poor" on the already enormous landfill of charming, but regrettably inconvenient Biblical teachings. Instead, "Judge Not!" is being recycled (a word you never thought Jesus would type on my keyboard!) with a glitzy new campaign. You see, since we Republicans are no longer applying the "Judge Not!" rule to ourselves, who better to apply it to than, well - judges?
Yes, those annoying people who run around acting like it is OK to judge. In appalling defiance of the now more literal "Judge Not!" prohibition, judges seemingly make a profession of judging others. And, honestly, who are they to judge?
As the Terri Schiavo case underscored, these annoying people who perversely wear black robes even though they aren't soliciting cash for Christ are currently the biggest impediment to the new, improved American Dream: theocratic mob rule. Drunk with impartiality and left unaccountable to political fashions by the mischievous people who wrote the Constitution, judges are willfully impervious to the normally effective inducements to toe our theological line, such as enormous wads of Indian casino cash or Culture of Life® death threats. No, instead, judges rather rudely ignore our angry glares, stubbornly refusing to be "activist judges" only when it promotes our clearly stated list of righteous, implacable demands.
This is why I am asking all of you to join Senator Bill Frist and me this weekend to celebrate "Justice Sunday ." Justice Sunday is a fabulously inventive "Two Branches of Government are Company - Three's a Crowd" marketing campaign. Sort of a Marbury vs. Madison Avenue approach, if you will. It is all part of our godly efforts to besmirch all judges, irrespective of any purported faith, as God-hating liberals intent on using the so-called Constitution to churlishly tamper with the Lord's greatest gifts to the GOP since communism and Bill Clinton's penis: absolute one-party rule.
I notice over in Rome that after a pragmatic klatch of ambitious cardinals realized that potential promotion to higher, more fabulous hats was possible only from John Paul II being sainted instead of sustained, they shooed the pontiff off to that undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveler returns. After all, a pope in a coma would leave a billion dollar commercial enterprise with no one to sign the checks. And an organization that large simply can't function when its leader is unable to think or speak. America, of course, being the exception.
In any event, I trust that all of you now understand the importance of executing the appropriate legal documents to ensure that one of life's most personal decisions is left to your loved ones. In Congress. Indeed, my freshly minted living will stipulates: "All orders to resuscitate should be ignored unless seen on C-SPAN."
This whole "fobbing off Heaven until the last possible moment" spectacle was brought closer to home with the recent news of my dear friend Jerry Falwell being hospitalized. Rather inventively, Jerry's living will proactively stipulates that his feeding tube is only to spurt viscous fountains of lukewarm gravy. The sight of dear Jerry ferociously fighting the specter of death called to mind my devout suspicion that no one is more afraid of keeping an appointment with Jesus than someone who has parlayed Jesus' anti-materialism teachings into enormous real estate holdings.
They say there are no disbelievers of God in foxholes and, sadly, I suspect that there are also no disbelievers of science on operating tables. Yes, in a gesture of shocking disloyalty, Jerry was heard to ask his doctor, "Before you cut me up or anything, you didn't go to a med school that explains the origins of the Universe with that silly talking snake nonsense did you?"
In closing, if you know someone unsaved (not that I wish to impugn your social circles), please prevail upon him to accept Jesus as his Lord, Savior and inspiration for bracelets and automotive decals. And then invite him to help you prepare props for "Judge Not!" rallies at the courthouses and front lawns of our nation's busybody judges. Perhaps it is simply my deft touch with paper mache, but I always find that an effigy of the Culture of Life's® mascot Eric Rudolf always seems to get those vocationally judgmental people's attention. Even quicker than the saucy décolletage on a Marc Jacobs dress!
So close to Jesus, we filed jointly last week,
Mrs. Betty Bowers
A woman known throughout Christendom for her joie d'après vivre