Monday, July 2, 2007

Friends Don't Let Friends Drive Drunk in the Spirit

Something weird happened to me Tuesday last week. I was going to look visit the landlady of a place I was looking to rent in the city, and my mother's friend and her husband had offered me a lift there and back.

Well, on the way back, a conversation sprung up on the subject of religion (always a wonderful subject to bring up to get off on the right foot with a person you barely know, right up there with politics and abortion) and I dropped the bomb that I was writing a critical review series of the book Every Man's Battle for my blog, going into things like New Life's expensive "learn-how-to-stop-masturbating" workshops, the authors' either lack-of or not being up-front with their credentials, and that their books are mostly filler. I hadn't yet mentioned their marketing of their action/adventure-novels as part of their series of self-help books (I admit it, I was going off on a rant, I think would've been wiser not to bring up the subject of EMB at all) when the driver set me straight.

I was humbled and learned some things from this man's God-given wisdom (I know it was "God-given" because he told me his wisdom was "God-given" as opposed to what he said was my "carnal" stuff):

  • First off, I should have prepared well in advance for that unplanned conversation by comparing the rates charged by actual qualified psychiatrists and psychologists for counseling sessions dealing with actual porn addictions with the rate charged to attend a workshop (it has changed from S1,800 for a five-day workshop to $1,700 for a three-day workshop) that's put out by a radio-show host that won't tell us what exactly his credentials are and a guy with severe father issues that tells that the all alternatives to platonic wet-dreams available to single guys result in "spiritual death".
  • Fred and Steve have good hearts "and God looks at the heart", as opposed to -let's say- results. Results like teenage boys literally hating their bodies as they go through their sexual peak at age sixteen, and men who have killed other men going to their army chaplains seeking peace for their souls and being told that masturbating "harms you spiritually"and even "hurts others".
  • The high price of the workshop is actually part of the success of the program, as a high financial investment provides an incentive for a man to "stay pure". They might even "be charging too little" (he actually said this).
  • Mainstream secular peer-reviewed psychiatrists and psychologists don't care about helping people with actual sex-addiction (as that they don't define "sex-addiction" as "not tearing the skin-moisturizer ads out of an issue of Reader's Digest and burning them before reading it") and are "unregenerate". And, might I myself add, many of them are also Batman villains.
  • Man has three parts: Body, Mind, and Spirit (he showed this to me by raising three fingers in the air and raising his voice). Sex-addiction is a spiritual problem and therefore requires a spiritual solution. And nothing is more spiritual than excessive use of football metaphors, false analogies to war, and the occasional Star-Trek reference.
But that wasn't it, oh no, not at all. The driver told me that he has "a prophetic gift of discernment" and that he could tell that I had a demonic "spirit of criticism". He then proceeded to say something that sounded a lot like this.

Needless to say, I thought I had misheard him. I asked him what he said and he said this:

"If you walked in the Spirit, you would've been able to understand that. That was a spiritual tongue."

Now, for me, suppressing laughter is a lot like trying to keep your eyes open while you sneeze. It just can't be done. So I laughed. And in response to that, this is what he did while he was driving down the highway:

He turned his head around to face me (I was in the backseat on the opposite side), took both his hands off the steering-wheel, placed them on top of his head, and said something along the lines of "I lay claim to the blood of Jesus on me, you and everyone in this car, and with it bind these spirits and cast them out!"

Paul may have said that we are to "live by faith, not by sight", but I don't think he was referring to highway safety in his letter to the Corinthians.

"WHEELWHEELWHEEL!" I stated in a calm and collected manner.

So he and the other people in the car start to pray out loud (thankfully, he kept his eyes open). I prayed too, although my prayer was silent and was more along the lines of "O God, please protect the crazy-man's car and all who dwell within the crazy-man's car. And if perhaps it is part of your divine and perfect plan that this is the way I enter your loving embrace, then please change your divine and perfect plan."

I didn't want to escalate things, so I kept my mouth shut, looking straight ahead, eyes glancing over to the steering wheel every three seconds. Then he said to me "I noticed you haven't said anything in a while."

He had to say that, in the way he did too. I can't really describe it in words, but it struck something in me. That weird thing that makes it harder for me to lie when truth ticks people off, not always, but at those specific times.

I was in the middle of replying with: "I thought it would be best to keep my mouth shut or else there would be more of the weird crazy-talking." But he interrupted me at the end of "I thought it would be best to keep my mouth shut..."

"Now that's the real you." He said, "Wait, what was that?"

"I said: 'I thought it would be best to keep my mouth shut or else there would be more of the weird crazy-talking.'"

"That's not you, that's a Spirit of Mockery."

Yes, that's right folks. The "Holy Spirit" had to correct itself because it misheard me.

I pointed this out to the guy (perhaps another bad move pulls over to the side of the road, gets out of the car, opens the door on my side, leans over me, and stares into my eyes. Yes, it was that creepy. Not just that, but this guy is tall. He's freaking HUGE.

"You need to make a change." He says. Apparently I need to accept Jesus as my PLAS (Personal Lord And Savior) again, allowing the Holy Spirit (the one that Mr Tall here has, the one that needs to correct itself occasionally when it mishears things) to finally enter me (third time's the charm) and transform me into the kind of person Christ wants me to be (a guy who won't say anything bad about a book Mr. Tall happens to like).

This guy's eyes scared me shitless, so I was stuttering and humored him the best I could without lying. He got back into the drivers seat and we all went home. Weird huh? I bet somewhere out there he's leading a bible-study and sharing an inspirational story about the time when he cast some demons out of a rebellious youth. I wonder how many souls he'll win with it.

Thankfully, this guy's kids have grown up, and are too big to fit in a microwave.


MichelleM said... don't know me, I don't know you. I followed a link from TheologyWeb to find your blog. You have wit, insight, and the ability to cut through the crap. I've enjoyed reading your entries very much.

Did this adventure actually happen to you? Really? If so, wow.


The Cynic Sage said...

Yup, true story.

Thanks for the encouragement. ;)

Geds said...

Don'cha just love the crazies?

I grew up on the sane side of that mentality (if anything can be called sane in conjunction with it), so I'm pretty sure that there were a few times in my life when I came close to experiencing what you went through...

Also, kudos on the Simpsons' quote...

sunflash said...

Dude...I would not have liked to have been you.

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