There’s an email. It’s dated December 14, 2011, it’s from the most respected automotive brand in history, and it starts with “We need to talk about the women you’ve been bringing to these events.” Apparently, your humble author had what appeared to be two threesomes, with a total of four different women, over the course of three weeks, at a pair of press events in Las Vegas and Palm Beach. The reality of it isn’t quite that depraved; there was just a time in my life where I slept best if I had a girl on both sides of me, and you’re not going to easily arrange that across the country using the same crew every time. Alright, there was that thing where I ended up in a hot tub with two of those girls plus the fellow who owned the hotel and I was then offered five thousand dollars for half an hour with one of my companions, a nineteen-year-old waitress (they say “server” now) from Nashville, TN — but she ended up being a lovely wife and mother in the years that followed.
At about the same time, I was the tireless and committed musical director for a grassroots church, driving a 90-mile roundtrip twice a week to make sure our crummy little Christian rock band was in perfect working order.
I’ve gotten in more trouble over the past forty-nine years than about 96% of Americans, and that’s not a guess, it’s a statistic. On the other hand, I’ve put about two dozen children on bicycles at my own expense, I’ve helped build an animal shelter, and I’ve loaned or given tens of thousands of dollars, and two cars, to friends in need since 1995.
All this is being mentioned up front as a disclaimer for what you’re about to read regarding my personal justification for;
0. The idea of a Creator;
1. The idea that the Creator is a very specific entity;
2. The idea that this Creator is best experienced as part of a church and/or community.
I’m not trying to convince anyone here. I’m not a role model, nor am I worthy of emulation in this respect. I may be a good writer, but I’m not a good religious writer. If you want that, check out C.S. Lewis. The purpose of this special edition of “The Critics Respond” is simply to answer the above request. If you’re disgusted by religion, or if you think it’s the opiate of the poor, or if you feel yourself to be intellectually above the idea of Space Magic Eight Pound Baby Jesus, you are invited to skip this one and come back tomorrow for the Weekly Roundup, no harm done.