Thomas More

I got stuck on the Jesus channel again tonight. I couldn't help it. The "Prophetess" was testifyin... (Think Star Jones meets Beyonce')

I forget sometimes how it once was. The high-pressure god-sale. The fast-talking appeal to the emotion. The constant return to the topic of money. The manipulation of the text to punctuate the message.

Groaning Amens came from the audience as arms were raised in greedy supplication.

"Dear Jesus, please let me, just this once, win the Powerball. Oh, and, forgive me for sleeping with my Pa's new wife. Oh, and, thank you for NASCAR..."

Sometimes I believe that hillbillies deserve religion.

Then my mind wandered back to thoughts about starting my own religion. However, I realized in an instant that starting from scratch was way too much work. Why reinvent the wheel? I mean, that's what's great about Christianity in general, and protestantism specifically. If you are not rising through the ranks of your respective church, just start a new one, with you at the top.

It would really be too much work, though, to maintain that fraud for too long. One-too-many topless martini hot tub parties, and the gig would be up.

So, I wondered whether I could just settle for patron saint of something.

Which made me wonder whether there were already any patron saints that covered persons like me. You know, the patron saint of scotch-swilling stripper-tipping, semi-creepy blowhard lawyers...

This is where Thomas More comes in. He's the patron saint of lawyers. I suppose he's the best I got. Seems Thomas was a friend of King Henry the VIII, a lawyer, and was the Lord Chancellor of England. When the king wanted to create his own church (Church of England) to permit his own divorce, Thomas opposed the king's plan. He was subsequently imprisoned in the Tower for his opposition to Divorce and Anglicanism, and eventually martyred for the cause.

That's right, the patron saint of lawyers became a saint because he tried to prevent the legalization of divorce. Interesting.

Of course the whole veneration of these magical people is a load of manure. People aren't magic and God doesn't help them do special tricks. If they convinced people that they can do magic, then they are charlatans, and probably least deserving of beatification.

Which takes me to today. Happy Saint David's day. Saint D is the patron saint of Wales. Think Saint Patrick, only fewer midgets and more leeks. (My wife, by the way, makes a lovely leek soup...)

Anyway, Today is the big Welsh holiday, which is celebrated with feats of strength, random beatings and mutton-eating contests.

I admit that I don't know much about Saint David, but this is what I can gather. Saint David was the son of a minor king and/or a nun (or possibly a woman named Non) around 500 AD.

He taught a doctrine of hard work and personal sacrifice. (Wouldn't do well on modern Jesus TV...) He was also famous for his wise saying: "Do the little things."

(Midgets, for instance...)

His best know magic trick was making a white pigeon land on his shoulder. He convinced the Pope that only his powerful magic could control white pigeons, so the Pope turned him into a saint. He eventually died.

Oh, here's a picture of my Wales mug.

OK Lisa, how was that?