Savior Fare - The Players
Grab the remote and bust out the Cheez Doodles — it's time to get with God!
By Guy Downs
In the past century, America's spiritual landscape has undergone some profound changes. True, some of us still manage to find peace verbally lashing homosexuals, or pipe-bombing abortion clinics, but most of us feel unsettled, mired in a spiritual vacuum with no obvious means of escape.
Having strayed from the loving arms of the Lord, many of us have begun to explore other avenues of spirituality; usually, I might add, with mediocre results. Take the Dalai Lama for example. He's everywhere. Movies, books, Time magazine — if this keeps up, start looking for his smiling mug on the Wheaties box.
Now, I love the Dalai Lama — after all, he seems like a genuinely nice guy — but a niggling nerve in the back of my head tells me to keep my distance. Like many Americans, I have certain religious conceptions that are hard to break. I find it hard to worship someone who wears orange bathrobes and tells me I'm going to be reincarnated as a muskrat. The Dalai Lama is amusing, maybe even venerable, but the idea that God's message is being spread by a man who looks to me like he just finished off a couple bong hits over by the rock garden seems implausible.
In short, I already have a God. He's old, he's white, and while he isn't dead, as the Sex Pistols proclaimed, it seems that he's always out to lunch whenever we come knocking. I've stopped regarding heaven as an imminent reward, and more as a celestial Publisher's Clearinghouse jackpot — it'd be nice if I got it, but I certainly don't expect it. And I suspect I'm not alone in this feeling.
But if you're with me, take heart. It's never too late to right the ship. God is still here — tanned, rested and ready to take us all home. There is infinite room in His kingdom for forgiveness. In fact, according to the Good Book, not only does Providence offer complete absolution for our sins, it allows for upward mobility. Take St. Peter: Definitely a loose screw on Earth, but look at him now — he's the official hand-stamper at the Pearly Gates. Are you a former hooker? No problem — we've got plenty of empty bunks in the convent. Child molester? Don't sweat it. We're always looking for a few more good men in the priesthood.
Not long ago the church was the epicenter of a town's cultural life. This, of course, has changed; most of us don't attend anymore, and churches are going bankrupt faster than Asian brokerage firms. But as the times change, so do the Lord's ways. If you haven't noticed, the town preacher has passed the baton to the televised ministry. The starched shirts and patent leather shoes that once comprised our 'Sunday best' have gone the way of the great white buffalo. All you need now in order to worship is a pair of comfy sweatpants and some fresh double-As in that remote control. Just when you thought it couldn't get any better, God starts making house calls.
Let's face it. Unless you want to pack a gunnysack full of weenies and marshmallows for your journey into the Great Hereafter, you're going to need to get with the program. And that program, it just so happens, is on the boob tube virtually every day. So in order to help you navigate these waters of piety, I've prepared the following sampler. It doesn't matter which one you go with — they're all God's soldiers — just as long as you limber up that credit card. Remember: The church may be passé, but tithing is still very much in style.
So buckle up. It's time to dust off those Rosaries and get with God. Salvation has always been just around the corner, only now you don't even have to walk to the end of the block.
Yours in Jesus,
Guy Downs
The end is nigh, and the Revelations will be televised. Be prepared! Click here for a run-down of the major players!
Guy Downs lives in Boulder, Colorado. His favorite breakfast is a heaping bowl of communion wafers soaked in 2% milk.
Savior Fare - The Players
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