Virus: It’s time for a miracle

President Donald J. Trump had a dream, a beautiful dream, that somehow the World War III we are fighting would end within weeks so that churches would be “packed’ for Easter. “One day it will disappear,” he said of the plague.

(And homes could be packed for Passover a few days earlier, he did not say. But that’s OK. I’m not picking a fight.)

Grand Master Fauci gently cautioned his boss that there is little chance the coronavirus plague will abate before Easter.

On Sunday, Trump backed off his Easter Sunday comment, saying it was “aspirational,” a new word for him. He knows being over COVID-19 by Easter would take a miracle.

OK, let’s go with that, in our imagination. A miracle.

You wake up on Easter morning and you hear a voice say, “It is over. You can go to church. COVID-19 is gone, cleansed from the entire earth. And all who died from it have been resurrected.”

Let’s say we all heard that, and it was true.

How would it affect Christians? Jews? Moslems? Buddhists? Democrats? Republicans? Libertarians? Whites? Blacks? Hispanics? Asians? Poor? Rich? The New York Times? Medical professionals? Used car dealers?

It has been a long time since we had a genuine miracle. We are so overdue it’s no wonder there’s a lack of faith. Wouldn’t this be a great time for Jesus to step into our lives?

My reaction if it were to happen? I guess I’d remind Jesus he is Jewish, like me, but I’d think about converting. Not to Catholicism, it asks too much. If I couldn’t manage being an observant Jew, I’d make a cafeteria Catholic at best.

Presbyterianism seems nice and mild. It’s called the religion of presidents. Why not?

After the miracle, I imagine all houses of worship would be packed, and scientists would try to explain the inexplicable. The honest ones would shrug and say, “It’s a miracle. So sue me.”

Then, someone like annoying atheist Ron Reagan Jr. — the one who does TV commercials mocking religion — says, “If you are God, Jesus, show us another miracle. Make all fossil fuel as clean as wind power.”

A voice we all hear replies: “I have just sent that Reagan brat straight to hell. Anyone else want a second miracle? Speak up, don’t be shy. Lucifer is holding a place for you.”

No one asks for a second miracle.

The voice says, “You know, I’ve had about enough of you lot. Right from that fracas in the Garden of Eden, I suspected you weren’t quite right, not really ready for me to take off the training wheels.”

Humanity  takes a deep breath. 

“One of my prophets gave you the rules of road, just a simple 10 Commandments, one for each finger. Was that too much to ask?

“It seems it was,” the voice says. “I can see free will was a big mistake, so that is now cancelled. I gave you free will and you started murdering each other, sometimes in my name.

“Getoutahere. No mas. You act like goats, I will treat you like sheep.”

Humanity goes “Baa, baa.”

“That’s better,” says the voice.

“There’s a new sheriff in town. No more wars, no more child molesting, no more back talk, no more dog tracks, no more astrology, no ‘safe’ injection sites. ‘Safe?’ Are you freaking cray cray? No more drugs — you get wine, that’s it!”

Humanity murmurs.

“You want drugs? Lucifer has drugs,” the voice says. “Want to go to him? Show me a hand.”

“Baa, baa,” he hears.

“Thought so. Here’s another change: You 1 percenters? Give it up. You will share with the poor. Don’t worry about your yachts. I sunk them.”

Suddenly, the sun dims to almost dark, then returns to full golden brilliance.

“Scary,” the voice says, “right? Just a warning. I can do this all day long with a twitch.

“OK, that’s it. As you were. See you in church next Sunday, right?

“Right?”

“Baa, baa.”