Words May Fail Me, But Blasphemy Never Lets Me Down

Late on Conspicuous Consumption morning, I finished trimming my War on Christmas tree*, creaked my way to a standing position, and took the dog for a walk in the neighborhood.

We approached the Baptist church on the next block. I stopped in surprise.

There were no vehicles or people in the parking lot. There were no people entering or leaving the several church buildings visible from the street. There were no children in the play area.

Now, let’s stipulate that there exists an organization that promotes the worship of an imaginary being.

Let’s stipulate further that, by virtue of promoting the worship of an imaginary being, the organization operates tax-free and is thus able to
a.) afford a HUGE lot in a semi-pricey suburb,
b.) offer low-cost brainwashing, I mean child care and after-school programs, to local families, and, incidentally,
c.) casually leave politically partisan materials around the premises when it is being used as a secular voting site.

Let’s stipulate that the organization is called, colloquially, a “church.”

The question then follows:

Shouldn’t the cult’s, I mean church’s, adherents be required to populate the property a little bit on the second-holiest day of their year in order to maintain the organization’s godsdamn tax-free, privileged status?

Just asking.

*Special thanks are due Adam Felber, panelist on “Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me,” for the idea of decorating with little gingerbread secular humanists.