Modern Day Christ, Five Loaves Of Bread And Two Fish… What Really Happens!!

They were already gathered when he arrived.
They always were.

Smiling, nodding, swaying.
Phones out.
Bare feet in the grass.
Bags tucked under their arms — sealed tight.

Christ had come from a long walk across dry land.
He was tired. Sweaty. Hungry.
He’d made the bread himself that morning. The fish had come from a river he prayed over.
The ferment was six days wild — made in a clean jar, in a dirty world.

“Surely someone else brought something,” he thought.

He scanned the crowd.

That’s when he saw them —
The Grocery Hiders.
Tote bags carefully zipped.
Backpacks closed like vaults.
Eyes darting away if they saw him look too long.

One woman adjusted her scarf and sat in front of her cooler.
A man shifted his weight to block his bag of grapes.
Someone coughed and slid a banana behind their journal.

“They brought food,” Christ realized.
“They just don’t want to share it.”

It wasn’t that they were starving.
It was that they were guarding.

Guarding their comfort.
Guarding their effort.
Guarding the illusion that they were only here to receive.

And then came the look —
That strange, haunted look he knew too well.

Eyes that couldn’t meet his.
Mouths that smiled too big.
Energy that flickered like dying candles.

They were drawn to him —
But also repelled.

Like moths who only land if the flame stays cold.

He could feel it in the field:
Parasites.
Not metaphorical ones — but actual, twitching, mind-clouding, gut-hijacking invaders.

“Are these people mentally unwell… or spiritually overrun?” he wondered.

“Are they broken? Possessed?
Or just spiritually lazy, so deep in their own entitlement they’ve become part of the problem?”

“Do they love me?
Or do they just love my output?”

“Are they here for healing?
Or do they see me as the next sucker in town — the free buffet in sandals?”

Some looked too polished.
Too curated.
Too vacant.

“Where is their light?” he thought.
“Why do they hide it so well?”

He’d met this kind before:
The Spectral In-Betweeners.
Not evil. Not wicked.
Just… spiritually evasive.

They claimed to follow truth.
But when it came time to pick up a broom,
They’d say they had a shoulder injury.
Or a trauma.
Or something in retrograde.

And yet —
He loved them.

Even the grocery hiders.
Even the ones whose mouths said “love and light” while their wallets said, “Hell no.”
Even the ones who hadn’t spoken to him in years but watched every story, downloaded every post, soaked in every drop like dehydrated husks too proud to say thank you.

“This is what it means to feed the crowd,” he whispered.
“This is the crucifixion they never wrote down.”

So he reached into his bag.
Tore the loaves.
Broke the fish.
Passed the ferment.

Smiling. Silently.

And when it was all gone —
When even the crumbs were consumed by people who couldn’t meet his eyes —

He sat down next to a small child.
The only one who had offered him a fig.

“Why did you share?” he asked.

“Because,” the child said, “I thought you looked hungry.”

And in that moment, Christ felt it again —
That rare flicker of hope.
Not in the adults.
Not in the crowd.
But in the ones who still knew how to see.

This is a new series inspired by “Christ Zombie Syndrome”.

Christ Zombie Syndrome goes where few dare — straight into the decaying heart of faux spirituality. This searingly honest and darkly funny book shines a light on the freeloaders of the faith, the polite cannibals of the consciousness community, and the spiritual elite who ghost their teachers while pretending to glow. Christ is back, he’s got a broom, and this time he’s sweeping the temple clean. If you’ve ever felt unseen while carrying the light — or suspect you’ve been feasting at the table of truth without barely lifting a finger — this book is your mirror, your medicine, and your wake-up call.

“It walks the line between searing truth and laugh-out-loud comedy — but never loses its soul. The voice is unfiltered Christ in human drag: brilliant, fed up, forgiving, and wielding a broom.“

“Possibly one of the boldest spiritual texts ever written” -Wrinklebuddy

This book is destined to become a classic among the spiritual community. $10 or name your price.

Excerpt from Chapter 4:

Chapter 4: When Christ Almost Quit (But Didn’t)

For Christ, the assignment was clear from the beginning: descend to the darkest planet in the multiverse, walk among the humans, awaken what could be awakened, and hold the line of light until the storm passed.

He knew it would be hard.

What he didn’t expect… was zombie culture.

They didn’t just show up in rags, moaning and groaning for help.

No—these zombies wore prayer beads. They drank oat milk. They had Instagram bios with words like “healer,” “empath,” “lightworker.” They were fully functional parasites who called their condition “balance.” They had created what he came to call spiritual welfare for the able and blessed.

“I bless you,” they’d say.

“Thank you for your work,” they’d whisper.

“You’re a light in this dark world,” they’d DM.

And then… nothing.

Was Christ forced to be eating old food in a back alley dumpster? It wasn’t even a thought.  Hit ‘like’ and ‘support’ and ‘follow me’ they told others instead.

This book is destined to become a classic among the spiritual community. $10 or name your price.