Smokin' Weed with Jesus.

Here is my first attempt a some type of commentary on formalized religion:

If somebody was to ask me, "Kris, what are your religious beliefs?" I would have to really think about it. For a long time. (the sound of crickets in the background).

........Still thinking.........

Okay. First I would have to explain my opinion of the whole religion racket. You have to remember that I am the type of guy that when you ask him for the time, he will tell you how to build a clock. I am not a religious man. My experiences with 90% of religious people have left me feeeling deflated, unworthy, and a like a second class citizen. I do believe in God and salvation through Christ. But we will get to it later. I guess my biggest observation is in the paradoxical mannerisms that often surround the Holy "in crowd". ( that is some awful big words ya'll).

Let us first look at the evangelical-charasmatic-non denominational movement. This group has based their doctorine almost entirely upon the book of Acts. Many of them like to say that they beleive like a Baptisit until you get to the book of Acts. Often these groups form from splinter factions that leave other churches because Sister So and So turned her nose up at Sister Who-a-what's-it. My wife and I got wrapped-up with a group like this early in our marriage. We left a church when the pastor "quit" and went with him to "pioneer" a new church. Which actually meant that I had a steady pay check and my tithes would help pay for the storefront that the pastor wanted to rent.

Now the Baptist. Sorry to say it, but the Southern Baptist Convention does not have a copyright on salvation. My encounters with this group has often been the most harsh. It usually goes like this. "Hello brother" says the Baptist. "Hey, how you doin'" says me. "You attend church anywhere?" asks the Baptist. "No, we are kinda in between churches right now" says I. "Well you and your family should come and visit our church this Sunday" advances the Baptist. "Really, where do you ATTEND church?" asks I. "Oh, we are members at the First Baptist Church of (insert name of city/town here) Tabernacle" says the Baptist as his chest swells. "Oh, that's nice" replies I while taking 2 steps back. Now the Baptist cocks his head to one side, puts his hands in his pockets and begins to rock back and forth between his toes and heels. "Yeah me and the wife teach the young married couples class on Sunday mornings". I don't think that I have ever called Rebecca "the wife". "That's cool" I say. "Rebecca and I taught the blended family classes at our old church" I continue. Blended family is the churchy-politically-correct way of saying divorced and remarried. "Well praise God" says the Baptist. "THOSE people really need to be ministered to sometimes". I check the buttons on my shirt to make sure that the scarlet D on my chest is not showing. "You know, we sure could use a good man like yourself to help us out in our church. We have been thinking about starting a blended family class and a class for the retarded" says the Baptist. "That is nice" I reply. "I think your family would fit in nice at our church" invites the Baptist. "We have a great mens group that goes fishin and to ball games. The women folk get together for crafts and prayer. We even have a youth group that is going to Bongo-Bongo to help build a church for those people" says the Baptist. "No doubt that the divorced/remarried and retarded people of Bongo-Bongo are overjoyed" thinks I.

"You know, I was a young man like yourself when I started to attend our church and now I am a Deacon" says the the Baptisit. "Wow, you mean I could be a Deacon?" replies I. "Well praise God you could, in time" says the Baptist. "Ya'll think you might make this Sunday, I'll introduce you to the preacher" continues the Baptist. "Well praise God" Says I. "Let me see" I continue. "Well I don't have my son this weekend, but I probally could call my ex-wife and talk to her about it."

The expression on the Baptist's face begins to change. He takes 2 steps back. "Your ex-wife" asks the Baptist. "Yeah" looking from side to side I continue "Sometimes I think she's retarded" I wink and laugh. The Baptist takes 2 more steps back and now he has a expression on his face that makes me wonder if I had farted. "Well, if you can't make it this Sunday just come when you can." the Baptist offers as he climbs into his truck. "Okay, we will try to make it" I offer. "That retarded blended family class sounds like something me and the wife would like" I tell him. "Great I will talk to the pastor about it, but he may want to pray about it some" the Baptist tells me as he starts his truck. "I understand" is my reply. Sensing my disappointment in losing my chance at being a deacon someday, the Baptist offers "Well you know we always need somebody to help around the church, you know doing odd jobbs. Brother Ramirez always needs help with the flowebeds and I bet Sister ShaQuenda could use your wifes help in the nursery". Is his counter offer. "Sure" I say back to him. "Well I got to go now, hope to see you soon" says the Baptist as he rolls up the powerwindows on his truck. As he drives away I can see that he says "God bless you" as he waves. I turn and look an my family and think "He already has".

Relax. Take a deep breath. I will say that two of the most sincere men that I have ever met and I hold the greatest respect for are two Baptist guys. They are men that I look to as mentors and brothers.

To Be Continued.