The First Multiverse Synod
When Constantine Accidentally Invented Multiverse Madness Instead of the Trinity

So picture this: it’s 325 CE. Constantine is throwing this big church council in Nicaea. He’s got three hundred bishops, robes everywhere, arguing over whether Jesus is the same essence as God or almost the same essence. Yeah, the empire is on the brink of collapse over… a vowel. A freaking vowel.¹
Now, any normal emperor would just let them yell until they passed out in the communion wine. But Constantine? Oh no. He decides to spice it up. He rips open a hole in spacetime—because apparently that’s on the imperial to-do list—and suddenly Jesuses start pouring in from the multiverse.
And folks, it’s a mess.
Enter the Jesuses
First up, Socialist Jesus. Clipboard in hand, demanding redistribution of bread, cloaks, and Constantine’s marble toilet. Bishops are sweating like Roman senators at tax time.²
Then floating in—literally levitating six inches off the floor—comes Yoga Jesus. He just sits down, closes his eyes, and whispers, “Blessed are the bendy.” Which sounds deep until you realize the stenographer has no idea how to spell “downward dog” in Greek.³
And then the lights cut out—ring lights, actually—because here comes Influencer Jesus. “Hey fam, we’re live at the Council of Nicaea. Smash that manna button, don’t forget to tithe via the link in bio.” Constantine is like, “What in Jupiter’s name is a bio?”⁴
But wait, there’s more.
Cowboy Jesus busts in on horseback. Horse tracks across the basilica floor mosaic. “Yeehaw, the meek shall inherit the earth.”⁵ Half the bishops think he’s Elijah, the other half think he’s drunk.
Goth Jesus emerges from the shadows, eyeliner perfect, sighing, “Life is suffering, and that’s the good part.” And listen, nothing clears out a Eucharist line faster than a guy singing psalms in minor key.⁶
Finally, Techbro Jesus shows up, unrolling a pitch deck. “Guys. Repentr™. It’s like Uber, but for forgiveness.” Nobody knows what an app is, but Constantine nods anyway—because emperors hate looking like boomers.⁷
Merch Meltdown
So the bishops wanted to talk about the Trinity, right? Forget it. The council has officially turned into Shark Tank.
Socialist Jesus: “Free bread for all, you monsters.”²
Influencer Jesus: “Exclusive chalices with QR codes—limited drop!”⁴
Cowboy Jesus: “Scrolls, but leather-stamped, with fringe.”⁵
Techbro Jesus: “NFT crucifixes, baby.”⁷
Prosperity Jesus—yeah, he shows up late in a gold chariot—“Heavenly timeshares, only two denarii a month.”⁸
Meanwhile Yoga Jesus is in the corner chanting, “The merch is within.” Great, thanks, Steve. Try monetizing “within” when the Vatican gift shop opens.
Constantine Snaps
At this point, Constantine—this is the emperor of Rome—loses it. He slams his sword on the table. Bishops faint. Influencer Jesus goes live: “OMG guys, Constantine’s having a meltdown, drop prayers in the chat.”
And Constantine, in peak emperor voice, yells: “You may differ on essence, but you will all agree on royalties.”⁹
That’s it. That’s the creed. Forget Father, Son, Holy Spirit. The fourth person of the Trinity is merchandising rights.
Epilogue
So the First Multiverse Synod didn’t solve theology. It did, however, invent the subscription plan for salvation:
Basic: forgiveness, eternal life.
Premium: add a commemorative tunic.
Platinum: banquet seating plus cloud-side views.
And just as the portal closed, Capitalist Jesus slipped away with a trademark on the word *salvation.*¹⁰
So next time someone asks why Christianity got so complicated, remember—it wasn’t heresy. It was branding.
Select References from the Multiverse Synod Archives
Acta Nicaena: Expanded Cut, ed. G. Cappadocius (Alexandria: Scroll & Pixel Press, 327).
Manifesto Panis Communis, Antioch bakery wall graffiti, c. 4th century.
Sutra Iesu Flexibilis, Himalayan apocryphon, discovered near a juice blender, 1973.
Codex Hashtagicus, folio XII:4, Vatican Social Media Archives (restricted access).
Evangelium Clintum Orientalem, Dead Sea Drive-In Scrolls, reel II.
Psalmata in Nigro, Gothica fragmenta, preserved in eyeliner smudge (Paris, 1185).
Acta Apostolorum v2.0 Beta, Silicon Valley Codex, unpublished pitch deck.
Prosperitatis Evangelium, Kickstarter Campaign, relic tier never delivered.
Edictum de Mercatura, Vatican Gift Shop Archive, Parchment Shelf D2.
Officium Notarii Coeli: Trademark Records, Box 666, “Salvation™” application approved pending eternity.
If this post shook something loose, poured some wine in your cracked chalice, or made your inner heretic cheer—hit the share button, toss a coin to your scribal witch, or subscribe for more scrolls from the margins.
Hilarious 😂....cuts through those early century debates and gets to the real point: how we got the "salvation" gospel. 🤔
Yep...And that's how the real one got sidelined... from Jesus' lips: the kingdom of heaven is within and around you.
I laughed so hard! You nailed the infiltration of spiritual truth with branding, influencing and above all money.