I, King Laugh, your brother and partner in the affliction, kingdom, and endurance that are in Jesus, was on the isthmus called Pine County to support my family in its hour of need. I was searching for a church at which to worship, and I took a notion to write in seven Substack posts what I have seen in seven archetypes of disease within the Evangelical churches of this locale: Edifice 69, Outside Baptist Church, Non-Dairy Creamer Bible Fellowship, Leavenedhole First Baptist Church, Presbyterian F.C., Rockefeller Baptist Church, and St. Napoleon Anglican Church.
To the cruise ship to glory (S.S. LFBC),
I should thank you for introducing me to one of the few men who listens as much as he talks, has an open mind and a spine, and who continues to grow as a man and minister throughout the seasons of life. Unfortunately, you mistreated, hindered, and slandered him out of petty jealousy when God finally released him from your arrogant abuses, so may God be praised in spite of you.
It is quite rare for a pastor’s great scandal to be addiction to solitaire during office hours, but it is also quite rare that a congregation has so little use for a spiritual guide that they don’t even suspect as much. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised when the music minister has kiddie porn on his computer and fuck all is done about it! When his sermons aren’t platitudinous gruel unfit for all but children, he is delving excitedly into the Prayer of Jabez or introducing his esteemed friend from Georgia who espouses higher life theology with all the humility of Trump. Not that he is an innovator, just that he occasionally likes to fancy himself enlightened and cosmopolitan: he did, after all, go to the flagship seminary of the Southern Baptist Convention! So it is that all of his stories put himself in the shoes of Jesus and his interlocutors in the shoes of all the first-century Muppets by whom Jesus was afflicted.
Your complacency and clear desire to not be asked to do anything are the likely reasons he has been able to coast so effectively. From the “welcome to the family” dinners where the newcomers sit by themselves because none of you has half a heart to those of you whose response to rare lively conversations in Sunday school is to ask whether we are getting through the material—material which asks such probing and salient questions as whether Christ’s crucifixion reminds us of first responders—you are the quintessence of form over substance—although the form is poor, too. Do you know that your pastor is an old moderate who thinks that women can be ordained preachers but won’t suggest as much because he thinks that the men wouldn’t follow a woman? I can’t make this shit up, folks!
But if all that you suffered from was a limp will and a flaccid leader, Christ might be content merely to spit you out; no, it is much worse than that. You see, there are half a dozen men in their forties who would by now have become leaders well on their way to the offices of deacon and elder who are utterly unfit because of your neglect. You have told the pastor you don’t want anyone in the church to have your contact info and don’t want to hear about other congregants’ problems because your kids aren’t pregnant or addicted to cocaine and you don’t want to be bothered in your retirement coma.
Speaking of millstones, there are countless children who came from across the county and its racial dividing line to hear the gospel who were soon thereafter prevented because you griped about a few pieces of trash in the minibus you otherwise use to take old folks to see the water treatment plant. If you treated your own children with such contempt—and something tells me Gooshie and Poopums don’t get to see their grandchildren that often—I can only wish you best of luck when those children you denied the gospel are your caretakers in the nursing home. Perhaps they will have interest in hearing your opinions on welfare recipients and service workers while they sponge bathe your poopy white ass!
I am inclined to think that God permits such edifices to remain standing as a test, but you should know that God’s wrath against those who so test the faithful burns white hot. Flee from the coming wrath, particularly those of you who have been deceived into thinking that the absence of drama is the essence of peace: Christ’s peace brings a sword, children. I hear that Eli finally retired, so hopefully the new guy is better than you think he is. Love hopes all things, and there is always hope, this side of glory, so my great desire is that you will be awoken, convicted, repent, and bear fruit. Our city needs a light on the hill, and your real estate is in a prime location for such a light, but God would rather light the city with the flames of your destruction than permit your darkness to convince people that there isn’t a light.
Your Former Youth Minibus Driver,
King Laugh