Starting a Church, Baby, Starting a Church

I think I've told you before that I've been kicked out of several churches for my "overt militancy" and for a few minor indiscretions. Simple solution: just start your own church, which I've done. But before the blown-out-of-all-proportion paintball issue that has given me my snappy nickname, I was attending a local church filled with mostly old people. I find this is the perfect cover for a guy like myself. The older generation of white people generally hanker after the good old days when God-fearing whites still ruled this land and there was no such thing as gun control (for whites) and abortion on demand. So they don't really question my shady past like a younger generation does.

Except this one time. The older guy who came up to me after the service must have been recently converted to Buddhism or some wacky New Age cult. He looked okay, nothing too freaky for an old guy, but it was what he said that convinced me the guy was a nutjob.

He said he had read plenty of my literature -- and believe me, there is plenty to read, so I was immediately impressed. Then it all went down like a lead balloon! He said he could not understand how come I was such a judgmental person -- why I spent so much of my energy opposing everything that I didn't like or that didn't square up with my biblical worldview.

I almost punched his lights out, but instead I kicked into my sly, grinning persona as I guided him out of earshot of the other tea-sipping congregants discussing the minister's sermon on loving your enemies (that reminds me, it wasn't long after this that I was asked to leave his church ... I guess it was the letter I wrote him informing him about his faulty theology).

I digress ... when we were safely out of earshot, I told him in no uncertain terms what I thought about his lopsided views and pussy-footing around the truth. Christians are not supposed to judge? Rubbish. We are to test every spirit, which means if we find something that is unchristian and / or satanic, we are commanded to oppose it in Jesus name. Which I've dedicated my life to, by the way. I made sure he could see the holstered gun bulging under my jacket as I told him he was a disgrace to the faith for not showing up to my anti-abortion marches.

He was a strangely composed fella despite all my threats and intimidating statements. He simply recited countless verses about peacemaking, loving enemies, forgiveness, reconciliation, the nonviolence of Jesus and other misleading portions of the Bible. People say I misquote and take the Bible out of context! Well, idiots like this side with the antichrist, as far as I'm concerned.

I almost let my grinning persona slip and wanted desperately to knee this chap in the groin, but the minister snuck up behind me and asked how we were doing on this fine Sunday. I spotted my faithful wife across the tea garden and excused myself hurriedly, mumbling some standard line about having to go and organise a protest march.

Uncomfortable moments like this are a thing of the past. Now that I'm running my own little church, comprised of my family members and Sudanese converts (the perfect multi-racial smokescreen -- someone has to serve the tea after the service) and one or two invited, gun-owning guests, I don't have to deal with idiots like this who insist on quoting the Bible back at me. The nerve!

Fight the good fight. If you prove yourself on the battlefield, I may invite you to a church meeting. Maybe.