A friend has asked me to be godfather for his newborn daughter. I am a very spiritual and religious person and am thus an excellent choice for this position of moral guidance. I have certainly proven to be a great godfather to my other godchild, my nephew Andrew (yes, the one who beats me at tennis). Probably one in ten times I see him I remember to say, "Believe in Jesus", which is the main responsibility of the post. Once he got to about five he became intelligent enough to reply, "But you don't believe in Jesus", so I had to argue that I was living my life as an example to him of what would happen to a person if they didn't believe in Jesus. Surely by acting as a cautionary tale in this way I have done more to foster the promotion of the Christian religion and I am sure God will want to reward me for my sacrifice. I would say it's a greater sacrifice than Jesus himself made, because at the end of the day he knew he was going to Heaven, whilst I am taking a gamble on my own soul, whilst at the same time saving at least three young people's souls from the firey pit.
Jesus doesn't like it when you go around saying you're better than him, which just shows his arrogance and insecurity in my opinion. Unless you're one of my godchildren reading this, in which case "Believe in Jesus."
Anyway I cycled up to West Ealing to see my goddaughter for the first time. It's much further than I had imageinded and up hill, so I was quite sweaty when I got there (this is the down-side of being super-fit - though travelling on public transport can make you just as sweaty sometimes), but luckily had a spare T-shirt to change in to.
At not even quite a month old, this little baby was not too ready for the strict and reactionary course in religious education that I have planned for her, so for the moment I just pulled faces and cradled her in my arms to give her a false sense of security. I told her to believe in Jesus, as I am sure God will have been clever enough to allow babies to understand these words even though they are otherwise really stupid, but I thought I would leave it there. She in return did a poo, which I think is disrespectful to Jesus, but we're all allowed to make mistakes and apologise for stuff like this at a later date. I am waiting til the last possible minute to repent, just before I die, as apparently this still counts, so you get all the fun of being bad and all the pleasure of being in heaven. It's win-win and there's nothing God can do about it, the big gay idiot (don't worry I've added that to the list of stuff to say sorry about).
Still it was interesting to meet someone so new to this world, who looks at everything with wide-eyed incredulity and who finds nothing amusing even about my most brilliant funny face.
I will teach her about what is right and wrong and what is a funny face and what is just crowd pleasing gurning.
