I find it very strange and odd that in this little nowhere town I live in, in nowhere Kentucky, there are actually not only one but two funeral homes, because you’d think one would be sufficient, but there are two, within blocks of each other, both in extremely large old mansions from the town’s glory days, which have now been converted into mourning and burial facilities.
One of the two has a huge, sprawling, beautiful front porch, that spans the entire width of the building with stone pillars and large graceful stairs leading up to the welcoming front door. And at this particular time of year, at this particular funeral home, there is a rather large and ornate nativity scene set up, not off to the side, but right across the front stairs and up onto the porch itself. A lovely Christmas spectacular, if you happen to be Christian, but unfortunately, those in mourning and in need of seeing their loved ones for one last time, laid out in their finery with their hair done just so and their faces painted with far more expertly applied make-up than any of them wore while alive, unfortunately for those sad loved ones come to pay their respects, THEY CAN’T GET IN THE F**KING DOOR BECAUSE THERE IS A GREAT BIG BABY JESUS IN THE WAY.
I didn’t know the man personally, to my knowledge, even in a past life, but I’m fairly sure the real Jesus would never dream of blocking family and friends from coming to pay respects to their loved ones and forcing them to go around to the back service entrance where the bodies are actually carted out and loaded in the van for cemetery delivery. The real Jesus, I’m fairly sure, would say “please move this awful shit and out of the way and think about your clients instead of your self-righteous piety”. I’m pretty sure the real Jesus would say something like that.