Hey, I’m glad it’s you! Come on in and have a seat. Didn’t see you at the elders meeting this week, and I’ve been meaning to ask you a few questions. You missed the laying on of hands of Marge Melangue’s cockapoo. The vet said heartworm, but demons are sly, you know.
By the way, that was a good idea you had last Sunday—I mean prophetic urging—to start offering unclean spirit insurance. The finance folks worked up a revenue model, and I emailed it to Dave Ramsey for his input. This might be the thing that finally puts us into the Osteen-o-sphere.
Huh? Why, yes, it is a new desk, thanks for asking. Parnian. Don’t you just love the cherry wood-embossed cross smack-dab in the middle? And what’s an executive minister desk without a Wailing Wall paperweight? Here, catch!
Oh, right, Western Wall. Tell you what, those Palestinians will be wailing soon enough when some of these End Times prophecies start hitting the fan, if you know what I mean.
But, anyway, dusty Arabs aren’t why I called you in here.
It’s probably nothing, but did you happen to notice our new “competition” down the street?
Right, the decrepit blue building across from the Dollar Store. Glory Hole Ministries or something like that.
Oh, I see. Glory Holy Ministries. Yes, I imagine there is a bit of a difference.
Not that I should be worried, but the guy who runs the place apparently doesn’t even charge parishioners to attend Sunday service. Plus, no annual congregation membership dues! Not even a worship band surcharge—as if he knows the pressure of carrying three full-time professional tambourine players on staff.
In fact, those Glory Holers don’t even charge for parking! Can you even begin to imagine Cubic Zirconia Cathedral Ministries without its 83-story Tower of Babel Parking Deck? Where else in Christendom can you find a parking garage shaped like a Sumerian ziggurat that people will pay an extra 50 bucks to tour for biblical education purposes?
Anyway, the only reason I mention any of this is that apparently most of our corvée labor “homeless” staff are heading straight from our Hallelujah Non-Alcoholic Vineyards to the Glory Hole at the end of their shifts. I mean, technically, they’re free to go wherever they want, but we’ve come to depend on that cinder block manufacturing swing shift—and all it was costing us was some leftover potluck casserole.
Okay, so none of this is news to you. Yes, it’s true; we’ve already lost several homeschool families to the Glory Holers. Apparently this Pastor Bear or whoever he is has some newfangled ideas about biblical hermeneutics. Frankly, I’m not sure the guy isn’t connected to the whole Edward Snowden-NSA thing.
KGB? Maybe. I was thinking KJV. Or maybe NRSV. NIV? Nah, but don’t rule out NASB. By the way, what’s KMFDM? Never heard of that translation, but someone mentioned it the other day.
Also, I hear this Glory Hole fellow actually had the gall to bring up Onan during one of his sermons. I mean, imagine quoting Genesis 51 to a Christian congregation!
Next thing you know, they’ll put up a plaque of Proverbs 30:12 in the bathrooms. They did?!
Argh! And I hear the guy is running a food bank out of the Glory Holy back. Giving away bananas, cucumbers and ears of corn to anyone who shows up claiming need. Damn, this guy is a pro; he’s not just running some hole in the wall.
Well, there’s no choice but to up the ante. I’ll have to prayerfully consider offering a 20% discount to our entire congregation for the upcoming Haiti missionary trip. It might mean two, maybe three, fewer days at Club Med. But there’s no way I’m skimping on those 24K-gold leaf endpaper Creole Bibles we plan to hand out to the illiterate masses of Cité Soleil.
Just imagine if you and I had Bibles that were worth a full year’s salary. Now that’s the kind of thing that can wipe hunger right out from one’s belly!
Well, you’re awful quiet. Say, that’s not your electronic passkey to the Cappadocian Mud Baths, is it? Why are you giving that to me—along with the keys to your corporate charismatic Cadillac?
Don’t tell me the Glory Hole guy has gotten to you. He has?! What did he offer you, authentic Christianity?! The goodness one feels in one’s soul from following The Golden Rule and loving one’s neighbor as oneself?!
Now there’s a pile of Balaam’s Ass manure if I ever did hear it.
Oh, I can’t take this anymore. I have a sermon to give in a few minutes.
Just get the hell out of here. And don’t forget you signed a non-compete clause. No, technically, I don’t think it prohibits you from managing a foster care program at a nearby church.
Harrumph! Please turn in your hymnals to No. 6.
I Have Not Yet Learned Enough
My Hands In Chains
The Brain—A Hole In The Wall
5. Oops, Maybe it’s Statutory Rape, After All, according to Leadership Journal: “From Youth Minister to Felon”
Leadership Journal recently ran a story penned by an anonymous youth minister gone wild—so wild that he is now serving time in prison for statutory rape.
Well, the Interweb exploded when said former youth minister lexically portrayed the events leading to his prison sentence in less than criminal terms. Um…rape is not an “affair.”
Your voices were heard, and Leadership Journal (published by Christianity Today) has now published an “editorial note” that addresses your claims.
That said, Pastor Pillow isn’t finished with you yet, Mr. Anonymous Former Youth Minister, and such ilk.
PASTORS OF THE WORLD: KEEP YOUR PECKERS IN YOUR PANTS! OR…
Going forward, any time I run across a male human being who claims to be a Man of God, Man of the Cloth, etc., who cowardly has failed to keep his pecker in his pants—because his fleshly desires were more important than fulfilling his vows to minister to others—he will have his name published in this column. In BIG RED LETTERS, even.
For instance, have a look-see at the REV. REGGIE WEAVER of Westminster Presbyterian Church in Greensboro, North Carolina, who, in a letter to his congregation, recently admitted: “I have violated my ordination vows and my wedding vows.”
REVEREND WEAVER, KEEP IT IN YOUR PANTS.
Sorry, but I am so sick and tired of concupiscent assholes who thump Bibles. Period.
4. When Ted Cruz Rallies, Civilization Trembles, via Christian Broadcasting Network: “Protestors Decry Obama’s Silence on Sudan Mother”
WTF?! The year is 2014. Human beings are actually designing warp engines. Yet in the Sudan, Meriam Ibrahim still awaits execution—plus 100 lashes for good measure—for refusing to renounce her Christian faith—plus she recently gave birth while being shackled to the ground.
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