A Letter from St. Paul to the Anti-DEI Committee

It has recently become popular to purge the concepts of diversity, equity, and inclusion from our vocabularies and institutions. The government is doing it, colleges and universities are doing it, businesses are doing it. 

Only a few radical outliers still subscribe to those outdated DEI values, clinging to the silly ideas that a range of perspectives gives us better insight, that people should be treated fairly and equally, and that we should invite everyone to the table of opportunity. What hogwash.  

It seems to me important that we strive to keep the gospels relevant, so to that end I have taken it upon myself to purge their texts of anything that looks even remotely like DEI. It’s a big project, because it turns out the gospels are full of this nonsense. Some fairly extensive surgery is required. 

For example, on the diversity front, we can’t have Jesus followed around by all those people from different backgrounds—tax collectors, fishermen, prostitutes, and so on. The same goes for that crazy miscellany of people that he healed. And he certainly can’t be portrayed as talking to the multitudes; that’s a sure-fire recipe for diversity.

The same thing applies to all those parables he shared. The subjects of those are way too diverse. People who work in vineyards? Really? A son gone bad? Let him rot. And don’t even get me started on Samaritans.

So, I’ve purged the text of all references to diversity. From now on, everyone who Jesus knows, heals, and talks to and about will be delightfully uniform. Uniform in what way, you ask? Well, there’s a stupid question.

In the revised text, Jesus will focus all his energy right where it belongs: on the privileged. What a relief finally to fix this in the gospels. After all, those are the guys we want calling the shots, right? They know what they’re doing. Let’s finally run this religion like a business and realize that grace isn’t nearly as amazing as cash. “Follow me,” Jesus says, “and I will make you fishers of publicly traded stocks.” It really sings, doesn’t it?

Changing our focus to the privileged will require lots of textual changes. Who knew the gospels talked so much about the poor? Gotta fix that. Also, Jesus will have to tell that rich young man who comes to him for advice that he’s doing great and doesn’t need to change a thing. We should probably make that kid a saint. And I sure hope the poor get their act together, now that the gospels will at long last clarify that it’s harder for them to get into heaven than for a camel to go through the eye of a needle. 

Cutting all the references to inclusion will require tons of changes as well. Good grief, there are welcoming messages all over the place in here. What were these gospel writers thinking? But, let’s be clear, any invitation into human fellowship really has to go. No more of that ridiculous: “Come to me all ye that are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest.” Now it will be: “Weary and heavy laden? Tell someone who cares.” 

Some of the changes do seem awkward. The story where all the men stone the woman taken in adultery really ends on a down note now. But, hey, a purge is a purge.

Don’t worry, I won’t change everything. That part about “Forgive them Father, they know not what they do,” for example. I think I’ll keep that in. 

I mean, we do know perfectly well what we’re doing.

But I just love how that line cuts us a break.

I would close by saying give my love to Onesimus. But he’s been purged.