Maybe Jesus was the son of God—but if so, God spawned the whiniest, most insufferable nepo baby in history. A sheltered manchild with a messiah complex, storming through the desert like everyone owed him something. Didn’t work a real job, didn’t start a family, didn’t do anything except bitch about how no one “believed” in him. Every time someone questioned him, he spiraled into guilt-tripping or vague threats. Cursed a tree for not feeding him. Told people to abandon their lives to follow his cryptic riddles. Absolute failson behavior—zero accountability, max theatrics.

And when daddy’s protection ran out? Total meltdown. “You’ll all burn if you don’t love me!” Bro got himself killed and then turned it into a PR stunt. Christianity is just his coping mechanism turned global. A slave morality cult built around worshipping a spoiled divine incel who couldn’t handle rejection. You’re not saved—you’re emotionally blackmailed into kneeling before the most punchable trust-fund prophet of all time. Jesus didn’t die for your sins, he died because he couldn’t shut up—and the weak have been simping for him ever since.