Bishop Who No Longer Believes in God Seeks Euthanasia, Gets Mere Christianity Instead

A satirical essay

By David W. Virtue, DD I www.virtueonline.org I October 7, 2026

The Episcopal Bishop of Las Vegas, the Rt. Rev. Albert Sniffle, says he will offer his body to science as he prepares for voluntary euthanasia.

"I suddenly realized I no longer believe in God," he told this reporter. "It's been coming on for some years now. When I realized that Jesus didn't rise from the dead, and that a picnic in the park was more relevant, it was the beginning of the end.

"When my second same-sex marriage failed and Precious George had taken off with a chicken (a younger gay man), I began to have serious doubts about a loving God.

"It came to a head when my beloved pooch, Cleopas, was hit by a car and died on the spot. My life literally fell apart.

"I cursed whatever God was out there, drank an entire bottle of Scotch and fell asleep in the Jacuzzi. I only awoke when Mildred, my next-door neighbor, and her partner Sophia saw me floating upside down and called the EMTs.

"They hauled me out, got me awake, read me the riot act about self-pity and went home. I lay naked on the back lawn crying my eyes out. But I knew my days were numbered. The EMT folk were wonderful, especially the handsome Beau, who had the dreamiest of eyes.

"As the ambulance pulled away from the house, I knew I would never return. My end was foretold by the stars, which I have been reading ever since Bishop James Pike started consulting spooks about his dead son. He died wandering in the Judean wilderness. Oh God, how I envied the man.

"The hospital doctor told me I would fully recover. A little stomach pumping, some food and coffee, and I was back on my feet. This did not allay my real concerns. When I told the doctor I was ready to go, he said I should see a psychiatrist. He felt sure the church would pay for it, as it had lots of money for things like this. He even recommended a book by some man called Lewis, something about Mere Christianity. I asked what the 'mere' part was about. He said read it anyway.

"By now I was too far gone."

Seeking the Exit

The bishop said he first raised the matter with his diocesan chancellor, a lawyer who had spent twenty years suing departing orthodox parishes for their buildings and therefore knew a thing or two about leaving.

"He told me Nevada wasn't quite there yet on assisted dying," Sniffle said. "I told him neither was General Convention on gay marriage, and look how that turned out. He suggested Canada. He said the Canadians are very accommodating. They'll help you with anything except finding a family doctor."

I asked the bishop whether he had told his diocese he no longer believed in God.

He looked at me with genuine puzzlement. "Why on earth would I do that? I stopped saying the Nicene Creed in 2009. Nobody noticed. I preached three straight Easters on the resurrection as 'a metaphor for second chances,' and the Altar Guild gave me a standing ovation. The only formal complaint I ever received was when I accidentally used the 1928 Prayer Book at a funeral. Mrs. Pettigrew wrote to the Presiding Bishop."

The Diocese Responds

News of the bishop's decision reached the Standing Committee on a Tuesday. By Thursday it had issued a statement affirming Bishop Sniffle's "courageous journey toward self-determined completion" and pledging to "hold space" for him. By Friday the diocesan liturgy committee had produced a draft rite, A Service of Intentional Departure, with optional Eucharist, optional Scripture and optional God. The departing selects the closing hymn. Sniffle chose "Imagine."

The Canon to the Ordinary, a practical woman named Brenda, raised the only question anyone seemed to think mattered. "She wanted to know whether the Church Pension Fund treats euthanasia as early retirement," Sniffle said. "I told her I'd be dead. She said that wasn't really an answer."

A diocesan spokesperson assured VOL that the bishop's loss of faith was "not a disqualifying condition for episcopal ministry, nor has it ever been. If it were, we'd struggle to make a quorum in the House of Bishops."

The Body and Science

The bishop's offer of his body to science met an unexpected snag. The medical school politely declined the liver, on account of the Scotch. But the neurology department was fascinated.

"They want to locate the exact spot in the brain," Sniffle explained, "where a man can stand before God and the people and vow to guard the faith, unity and discipline of the Church, and mean not one word of it. They think it might be hereditary. Or possibly seminary."

North to Vancouver

So the bishop flew to Vancouver, a city he knew well, having once attended a conference there titled "Decolonizing the Doxology."

The assessor at the clinic was a kind, tired woman with a clipboard. Sniffle laid out his case: two failed marriages, Precious George and the chicken, the death of Cleopas, the stars, the Scotch, the Jacuzzi.

"And your underlying medical condition?" she asked.

"I no longer believe in God."

She set down the clipboard. "I'm sorry, Bishop. Loss of faith is not a qualifying condition. Not yet, anyway. Parliament is working on it."

She sent him to the waiting room while she found the paperwork. There was nothing to read but a dog-eared paperback someone had left on a chair. It was Mere Christianity. On the inside cover, in pencil, a previous occupant had written: Changed my mind. Hope you do too.

The receptionist twice asked him to leave. He read it in one sitting. He finally found out what the "mere" was about. It was the part the Episcopal Church had thrown overboard first.

The Road Back

"Do you know the strangest thing?" he said when he phoned me from the airport. "I named my dog Cleopas because it sounded like a Greek shipping heir. In forty years, I never once preached on the man. He was one of the two on the road to Emmaus, walking away from Jerusalem, certain it was all over. Jesus walked right beside him and he didn't recognize Him."

There was a long pause on the line. "I've been walking the wrong way for forty years, David."

As of press time, the Rt. Rev. Albert Sniffle has cancelled his appointment, returned the draft liturgy unsigned, and made one request of his diocese: a copy of the Creed. The Standing Committee is searching the archives. No one can remember where they put it.

The Episcopal Church has spent half a century teaching its bishops how to die with dignity. It forgot to teach them why to live. For that you still need an empty tomb. A picnic in the park won't do.

David W. Virtue, DD, is founder and managing editor of VirtueOnline. His writings can be found at www.virtueonline.org, where you can subscribe to receive his free biweekly VIEWPOINTS. His Substack on the Middle East is at davidvirtue2.substack.com