A Spat With Mama

I had a spat with Mama this morning on the telephone, about religion (what else?). I heard a guy on coast to coast a.m. talking about “the mysteries of Christmas,” and it really put me in a positive mood. One of the things he said was something I’ve heard before; that Mary Magdalene was not a prostitute, that Jesus married her, that European royalty could trace their lineage back to Jesus.
Well, I thought that, since we’re connected to European royalty through Winney moss, it’s at least theoretically possible that we’re descendants of Jesus Christ (like tens of thousands of others). Mama didn’t much care for the suggestion. In fact, we started to have a rather heated argument, since I, being the idiot that I am, decided to defend my position.
Mostly, here is a woman who once asked me which ocean was off of the east coast, and whose spiritual beliefs seem to be encompassed by the mantra that you do not question what you have been taught. Hell, we’ve gotten into arguments because I’ve said that the King James Version of The Bible is the most inaccurate translations there are. So mama’s image of Jesus is one of someone who never had a human emotion other than joy, who never farted or otherwise acted human; God in human form, which, of course, meant that he wasn’t human at all.
It was stupid of me to say anything. Mama takes comfort in her spiritual bubble and I have no right to say anything that she’s uncomfortable with. But I really, genuinely, was surprised when I was attacked about this.

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