The Fat Lady is Christ. Really?

My neighbor and The Donald are
“slobs and phonies and morons
that Holden Caulfield runs into
on his travels,” but, “are, like
Seymour Glass’s Fat Lady, ‘Christ
himself, buddy,’”* and while
as hard as I find that to accept,
I have to if I am to accept that I,
too, am accepted.

*from a meditation by Frederick
Buechner

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