“I’m free,” he said. “Just told Sergeant Goforth no.”
“Not joining up then,” I said. “Why the change of heart?”
“Oh please,” he said, “don’t you read the papers?”
“As a last resort.”
“Haven’t you seen what they did to that poor POW?”
“Who? Us or the Taliban?”
“Oh your species. At least the Taliban only tortured him.
Now you are threatening his family as well.”
“So you are not enlisting?”
“Are you serious? A person would have to be out of his mind
to join your military.”
“I see. So what is next?”
“I’m going to law school.”
“You’re what?”
“I’m going to be a lawyer.”
“And represent soldiers who get captured by the enemy?”
“Oh, hell no. I’m going to represent churches.”
“Churches?”
“Of course.”
“What churches? Baptist, Methodist, Catholic?”
“Oh hell no. I’ll serve the new ones.”
“What new ones?”
“The new ones that will spring up everywhere after your Paramount
Court ruling.”
“And what Supreme Court ruling was that?”
“Oh, it hasn’t happened yet, but it will. Haven’t you heard
of Hobby Lobby vs. Sibelius?”
“Seems I have, but enlighten me anyway.”
“That’s the ruling that will say people can decide what laws
they will obey and what laws they won’t, based on what their church teaches.”
“Uh, I don’t think it is that simple. Besides, the court may
rule the other way.”
“Oh please,” he said, beginning—no, continuing—to annoy me. “they
won’t pass up this chance, way too juicy.”
He had a point. He continued. “So we will need new churches
with new beliefs and a good lawyer.”
“And,” I said, “assuming, and this is a big assumption, that
the ruling goes your way, where do you intend to concentrate?”
Another child on her way to salvation. - C.W. |
“And that is?”
“Folly is bound up inthe heart of a child, but the rod of discipline drives it far from him. That’s
from your Book of Proverbs. Just try punishing a parent who adopts that
biblical injunction. I’ll be right there.”
“With the church members right behind you.”
“Of course. Now the approach of Exodus may represent a
bigger legal challenge. But I think I’ll be up for it.”
“And that one is?”
“You know you are crazy, don’t you?”
“Oh please. I’m not the one who is crazy. It’s your species.”
He had me there. “I’ve got to go,” I said.
“Go where?”
“To decide between Costa Rica or Nicaragua.”
“Wait,” he said. “I need you to help me design my Church of
the Big Pal.”
“And what religious tenant will it feature?”
“Their preachers and their young folks sharing sleepovers.”
If you click an ad, it will help pay my way through law school. - C.W.
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