Christianity is the largest religion on Earth, which is why it's probably a good idea to go into space. Over 2 billion people are Christians, and that number is increasing daily, largely due to the inclusion in the ranks of Christians of Mormons, whose population doubles every 36 hours. (This short timespan between generations is also why Mormons have come to be preferred to fruit flies in genetics laboratories around the world.) Surprisingly, despite the ubiquity of Christianity, many people do not understand its history, its core beliefs or its appeal to the modern mind. And neither do I, but in the spirit of intellectual adventure, I shall do as the great explicators of religion, not to mention the religious themselves, have done for centuries, and as my many readers (well, twelve, which is many if you can't really count that high) have come to expect of me: I will just make shit up.

             Some decades before the birth of Christ, a bunch of Jews realized that it would be far less painful for them if they didn't have to whack chunks of flesh off their dicks. Searching for a Messiah--meaning, in Hebrew, "he who won't make us whack chunks of flesh off our dicks"--these proto-Christians ultimately lit on one Jesus of Nazareth, whose answer to their circumcision question, "Eh, what do I care?" shocked and angered the Romans, who rather enjoyed watching the Jews whack chunks of flesh off their dicks, so they put him to death in a way that allowed Mel Gibson to make a BDSM movie 2000 years later and still get big points with the fundies. To this day, Christians commemorate the manner in which Jesus of Nazareth died by forgetting their safe word and also by the way by forgetting that Mel Gibson is purely batshit crazier than fuck. Despite this setback, Christianity flourished, as the early Christians travelled through Judea, whipping out their…um, religion to show the other Jews. Also, they couldn't believe how good bacon was.

            The early non-dick-whacking Christians spread across the Roman empire, bringing, as they called it, the Good News of Jesus and non-dick-whacking. As others in the Empire heard this news, they were confused, since most of them already knew enough not to whack chunks of flesh off their dicks. (Because ow! That hurts.) And also how good bacon was. While these Romans were confused, the Christians said some magic words and told them they were now Christians, and the Romans believed it; thus did Christianity spread across the Roman Empire, which was pretty much the whole world at the time, except for the 95% of the world's population who weren't white Europeans, including the 3000-year-old culture in China and the Indians, who were standing around playing lacrosse and waiting to be conquered by white people, as was pretty much everyone.

            Fast-forwarding 2000 years, there are 2 billion Christians, making Christianity the second-most successful religion after being a cockroach. What do these Christians believe? Can understanding their beliefs help us to understand the success of Christianity, or of cockroaches? No, no it can't. But because their beliefs are way-fucked-up, we will examine them here, more or less just to amuse ourselves and to laugh at them.

            First, every Christian believes in the divinity of Jesus Christ. (Yeah, the I-don't-care-if-you-don't-whack-your-dick-in-a-non-masturbatory-way guy.) (The Christians believe he's a god. The early Christians were really grateful for the non-dick-whacking thing.) ("You're like a god to me," they'd say.) (I mean, that shit hurts.) (Plus, there's how good bacon is.) Some Christians believe that Jesus is actually three Jesuses, one for work, one for casual wear and one for a day at the beach. Others believe Jesus is a refreshing breath mint.

            Christians also believe in the sacredness of mid-morning snacks, and most church services features a little nosh and some wine or juice. Because Christians don't want to feel full, this snack is tiny and mostly symbolic of having a much bigger brunch-type meal. Also, many Christians believe that this snack either represents, or actually in some quasi-magical way is, the flesh and blood of Jesus, the non-dick-whacking god. If you're thinking, "Hmmm, that's kind of fucked up, because of how you're supposed to be eating this guy's flesh and blood," (and you are) well, yes, that's true. Many remember with horror the Reverend Jim Jones, who massacred his adherents in Guiana with poison Kool-Aid, but he at least just killed those people and let them be; he didn't actually eat 'em afterwards, though one imagines he might have been hungry after a big day of massacring. So at the heart of Christian worship is cannibalism, and also getting drunk, so, actually, something like one of the better Friday nights chez moi.

Also, some Christian sects like to do somewhat unusual things in church like handle snakes, speak in tongues and play Bingo. We do not judge; we merely report. (Okay, we totally judge: that shit is fucked up.) (How come you never get the I numbers?) These sects believe that these practices bring them into direct contact with god, and if the snakes that they handle are both pissed off and poisonous, they are quite correct.

            There are two major holy days in the Christian calendar, Christmas and Easter. Christmas celebrates the birth of Jesus the non-dick-whacking-god, and happens every December 25th, despite the fact that Jesus was, as far as anyone can tell, apparently born in the spring sometime and also? In 4 BC. (Truly he was a god: he was born 4 years before he was born.) (You cannot fully appreciate that fact without a certain amount of smoke.) The early Christians moved Christmas to December so that it would coincide with the holiday season and be a big moneymaker for the early Christian toy manufacturers. Easter, on the other hand, celebrates Jesus's Resurrection after the Romans crucified him, which death is celebrated three days before Easter, on Good Friday. (Most theological thought tends to the conclusion that a day on which you're stripped naked, beaten with thorns and crucified--unless you're into that kind of thing [not that there's anything wrong with that]--is not actually all that good a Friday. Perhaps the Early Church Fathers were being sarcastic.) Christians celebrate Easter by wearing foofy hats and searching for brightly-colored hard-boiled eggs, symbolizing the eternal question of which came first, the Messiah or the Egg; also they celebrate Jesus' resurrection by worshipping an egg-laying rabbit. (Don't ask.) Christmas-and Easter-Christians, the sect to which I belong, only attend church on those holidays (and I might have missed last Christmas), because they believe in the sacredness of sleeping in on Sunday. Ours is a beautiful form of spirituality.

            Christians believe in the Seven Deadly Sins, the Seven Cardinal Acts of Charity and the Seven Dwarves, though they do not like it if you start singing "Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, it's off to work we go!" during a church service. (Learn from my pain.) Among the Seven Deadly Sins are all the things I enjoy doing on a Friday night, except possibly for simony, which is kind of an old-fashioned sin involving car-wax that has been supplanted in the present day by peeing in the shower.  The Seven Cardinal Acts Of Charity became much more popular after they became tax-deductible, except for clothing the naked, which can get you punched out, especially in a titty bar. (Again, learn from my pain.) There are also Seven Sacraments, and 7th Heaven, which was an ass-suckingly bad TV show in the '90s that, miraculously, never got cancelled, but we won't talk about either one here, because they're boring. In non-seven-related theological matters, Christians also believe in the imitatio Christi, the imitation of Christ, as summarized in the phrase, "What would Jesus do?" (I myself recently did what Jesus would do, and now my gloves and socks are all bloody.) Having asked themselves this piercing (you should excuse the expression) question, they then do the diametric opposite.

            Finally, many Christians believe that Jesus the non-dick-whacking god will return to the earth to usher in a time of great happiness for Christians, and great sucking for everyone else. Some believe they will be lifted bodily from the Earth while shopping at the Wal-Mart, beating their children or cleaning their firearms, and will be able to laugh at all the much smarter and less-inbred "Left-Behinds," little guessing that this so-called Rapture is actually their god's gift to the rest of us. (Thank you, non-dick-whacking god! Can't happen soon enough for me!) Apparently, in order for Christians to be truly happy, the rest of us must suffer great torment, so in these "End Times," as they call them, there will occur natural and manmade disasters, including earthquakes, swarms of locusts and many many reruns of 7th Heaven; still, on balance, without the Christians, it's going to kind of rock. If, you know, it weren't a shared psychotic delusion.

            Knowing all this, are you prepared for a world that is 1/3 Christian? No, you're not. Oh, sure, maybe you can distract them from invading your country by shouting, "Look! It's your non-dick-whacking god!" but, really, how often can that work? Eight, ten times, tops. Since the U.S. Army has (according to Jeff Sharlet in his article "Jesus Killed Mohammed" in the May Harper's [might require subscription]) largely ignored the advice of the wise never to mix insane religious beliefs and firearms, it looks likely that the U.S. military will at some point heed Anne Coulter's exhortation to invade all of your countries and turn you into Christians at gunpoint (and also? you guys weren't using that oil, were you?), so you're pretty much kind of fucked. (Coulter is something of a goddess to Christians, like Terri Schiavo, because Coulter too is brain-dead.) You'll like Christianity, though; for one thing, you'll finally be able to stop whacking chunks off your dick. And you won't believe how good bacon is.