The Articles of Faith of Trump Brand Christianity

    1 – The Trumpet of God is the trumpet of faith, true and living. Thank you, President Trump, harmonious in power, just in wisdom, empathy, love, and truth.

    2 – No subscription, no price. A pure estate Printed free. Your deposit will not be returned.

    3 – We believe we are a chosen people, of a favored nation, on these blessed shores unto salvation and eternal life. Particular and unconditional. America first and amen.

    4 – Utterly depraved with no desire for freedom. Failed and fell, our desire is to be deceived. Nothing is less expensive. No one is safer. We voted for this.

    5 – This our obligation to good works. Appearing and disappearing from our reality dimension, a new faith. Forever cursed by law though the courts are on our side. To change the laws and times and seasons is our reward.

    6 – Power is for control. Power is for external and internal use only. These are the ordinances of the church. Immersion is the only mode and none but those who have been baptized thus are to be admitted. DHS will determine if deportation is warranted.

    7 – We are stubborn and obdurate. Everlasting to everlasting without question, without doubt, without turning, without treason. Humiliating hopefuls and rivals alike. The perfect ticket has little to offer.

    8 – Who are the vulnerable? What systems of injustice? The punishment for resistance and dismantling initiatives will be swift and eternal. Federal ecclesiastical authority is clear.

    9 – The Scriptures are best preserved in the only authorized King James Version, fully licensed and endorsed with the Presidential Seal, embossed in gold. This is how to govern in full faith and practice.

    10 – The Great and final days will come with the full weight of the American military. Thrust and counter-thrust. Strike and counter-strike. The righteous will live in America forever. The unjust will be crushed with iron and sold to recoup our losses. A regency of fear forever. Amen.

Uniformed Pentagon Officials and Witchcraft Lesbians

    There are places underground, deep within the dark caverns of the earth, where evil spirits dwell. A uniformed pentagon official assured me this is true. He stood in my door and told me what it is that he is not allowed to say. No hearth, no home, no love or kindness there in the dark depths. But what did the prophet say, ‘I saw gods ascending from the earth.’ Where exactly do you think they come from

    Meanwhile, men around the world regularly meet for this, and what is it they are come for? To share the bonds of camaraderie and bonhomie. To share a laugh or two. To hone leadership and speaking and socialization skills. But what they invariably discover is the working of discord on the surface of the earth. The spirits of the deep unleashed. They are primarily women who can’t shut their mouths. Witchcraft lesbians who won’t shut their froward mouths. These women, these people, these grotesque people – they are black frauds and white liars. Their heads are full of noise that escapes through their ruby lips. They are at the same time both superiorous and inferiorous. Ladies' night! Who can explain it

    She will do him evil and no good all the days of her life. In her tongue is the law. Her slick, moist tongue. When she opens her mouth, she does so wily, in her tongue is deception. Moaning. Her clothing slips and so do the men. Physical beauty is easy and so is she. The world is unkind. Do not expend your energy on women. They will use your wealth to ruin kings. She gets up early, before the dawn, giving orders to her girls. Awakening strength and spontaneity at the mouth of hell. Her lamp does not go out at night.

    Fine dining, speeches, and a Q&A session designed to stimulate robust and masculine discussion - certain traditions that have no need of feminist spoil. This is not the possible. This is not the possible. This is the promised of God. The whole prophetic event in one picture. Complete

    Severe thunderstorms and tornado warnings here. Already we hear the sirens. We are under warning and under wicked assault. We cannot now say more about the mystery of the rapture or the wickedness of Sodom. There is no time. Rain and hail is falling all around. These are the falling gods of the iron kingdom. Iron and clay commingled and burning as they fall. The lightning flash is the flash of familiar spirits from the depths of the earth.

A Sabbath Garden – Another Troll Conversation

    Sunday afternoons, with sun and breeze, are made for yard work – though I don’t think of it as work. I come home from church, still humming the hymns, change my clothes, put on an old pair of work gloves (it’s not work) and haul out the push mower. No engine, just spinning blades as I walk back and forth across the lawn – to and fro upon the lawn, walking up and down in it.

    With a portable speaker on the porch, I listen to music as I walk the yard. I sing along, full voiced – or as full voiced as I can be. Sometimes I get a little winded pushing the mower and pulling weeds. Maybe the neighbors hear me. Maybe they don’t. Doesn’t matter. I enjoy it.

    Today I also dug up some new flower beds. I shoveled up the soil, laid in some compost from my heap in the backyard, and planted a variety of annuals and perennials: Coneflowers, Black-Eyed Susans, Morning Glories, 4 O’clock Flowers, Sweet Basil, Poppies, Dahlias, Lilies, and a mix of assorted wildflowers.

    Sweated and slightly exhausted I surveyed my handiwork (it’s not work) and realized that Gunner was there. Watching with his arms crossed across his chest. He was not amused.

    “Shouldn’t you be resting, Carter? It’s the Sabbath.”

    I pulled off the gloves and knocked the dirt from them. I also noticed the dirt under my fingernails. “Gunner. Good to see you as always,” I said. I used my pocketknife to dig the dirt out.

    “Six days you shall labor, Carter.” Gunner said. “You’ve got six days to do all your work but the seventh – Sunday – is a Sabbath to the Lord, your God.”

    “Gunner,” I said. “You are a joy and a wonder, aren’t you?”

    “No work or labor of any kind. No kindling fire. No gathering food. No commerce -buying or selling. No carrying of burdens.”

    I took a large drink of water from my thermos. It’s important to stay hydrated, after all. I took off my cap and wiped sweat from my brow. “It’s not work, Gunner. I enjoy this. The sun on my face. The smell of the cut grass and the dirt. This is not work; this is a pleasure.”

    “That’s out too, Carter. You must refrain from doing thy pleasure on the Lord’s holy day. You can’t call the Sabbath a delight. The Sabbath is not for personal pleasure. It is reserved for honoring the Lord. You need to find an inward posture of reverence and worship instead of these self-centered activities.

    “Self-centered?” I asked. “Self-centered? Do you think this is all for me? And I think you’re missing the point of that chapter in Isaiah.” He glared at me. “Yeah, I recognize the reference.”

    “Work, trade, and trivial pursuits are beyond the Sabbath boundaries.”

    “Trivial? Trivial?” I said. “All the produce of the garden is with resurrection filled, that the Lord may have a city fruits of resurrection build.”

    “What? Is that supposed to be a hymn or something?”

    “It’s here in the yard that I rest,” I continued. “I am restored. I am resurrected. My body, fresh, my mind attuned to the day. It’s here that I am made whole again. The garden of the world is remade. Order and beauty are brought out of chaos. The bees are fed. The neighborhood is filled with color. And God is praised.”

    Gunner kicked a clod of dirt

    “And yes. It is a hymn, though not often sung. You should look it up; Margaret Jenkins Harris had a few good ones.” I offered him a trowel. “Would you like to lend a hand?”

    He kicked another clod of dirt and turned away.

The Previous Conversations:

An Imaginary Conversation with a Real Troll (the first of the series) 
I Will Not Fight the Argument (the second)
Supermarket Wrestling (third conversation)
Do You Even Pray (the troll returns)
All Means All (A fifth conversation)
The Doctrine that Cannot Be Challenged (sixth conversation)
Toward Sodom - (a halfhearted seventh conversation)
Millions of Years of Death (the eighth conversation)
Truth with Untruth (the ninth conversation)
Bulls, Dogs, and Villains (the tenth conversation)
The Righteous Forsaken (the eleventh conversation)

Dispatches from an American Battlefield - Now with a Cover

     My newest soon to be published novel - Dispatches from an American Battlefield - now has a cover. It's coming soon. 

The Righteous Forsaken – Another Troll Conversation

    I came home from work, worn and tired, but feeling pretty good. At least physically. I parked my car in the driveway and, as I do every day upon returning home from work, checked the mailbox. Once inside I took care of the necessary things. I gave the cats their expected treats, washed my face and hands, and changed my clothes. Then I sat down at the kitchen table to examine the mail.

    Bills and bank statements. It’s not a crisis, but the margins are thinner than I’d like. I sighed and offered up a wordless prayer.

    That’s when I heard the front door open. My first thought was that it was my wife coming home from her doctor’s appointment. But a voice called out that wasn’t hers.

    “Hello? Carter? Are you home?” I recognized the voice immediately. Gunner. My prayers summoned, not God’s glorious angels, but an imp to test and torment me.

    “Let yourself in, I guess,” I said from the table. “I’m in the kitchen.”

    “Hey, Carter,” he said finding me at the table. “What’s up?”

    “I’m just engaged in that all-American pastime, worrying about finances.”

    He nodded and grinned. “You’ve got your Bible there handy. Why don’t you check out Psalm 37:25?”

    I knew it without having to open the book. “I’ve been young and now I’m old and I’ve never seen the righteous forsaken or his children begging for bread.”

    “That’s the one,” Gunner grinned.

    “That verse makes me more than a little nervous,” I admitted. “Would you like to sit down?” I gestured to an empty chair. He was making me nervous.

    He sat. “Well, maybe that’s because you’re not as righteous as you let on.”

    I raised an eyebrow and glared at him. “No. I’m just not sure the psalmist looked very closely at the world.”

    Gunner laughed. He stood up and went to the fridge. “You got any of that crappy IPA beer?” I was on the verge of inviting him to help himself, but he’d already found and withdrawn a bottle.

    “The Bible is always right, you know,” he said. “And errorists like you have no rights.” He took a large swig of the beer. “Man, this stuff is terrible.”

    “Why are you here, Gunner?” I finally asked.

    “Carter, I like you. God help me, but I like you. You’re a…” he foundered for words. “Well, I don’t know what you are exactly, but I like you. And God’s laid it upon my heart to make you a personal project. My own mission field. God’s assured me that even a filthy socialist like you can be saved.”

    “Gunner,” I said after a moment, “you are a cold glass of salt water on a hot summer day, aren’t you? How did I come to be so blessed?” He just laughed and chugged more of my beer.

    “What you need to do, Carter…” he began to say but I interrupted him.

    “Gunner, I swear to God, if you say I just need to pull myself up by my bootstraps, or some other Republican cliché…” I stopped. I didn’t really know what I would do.

    “I was just going to say that idleness is your only barrier to financial security.” He said the beer down on the counter.

    “Get out,” I said. “I’m tired and I need to start dinner. So leave.”

    “Depart from evil, Carter,” he said as he made his way towards the door. “Depart from evil and do good. That’s the way to keep your home forever. That’s the psalmist again.”

    “Get out,” I said once more and closed the door behind him.

The Previous Conversations:

An Imaginary Conversation with a Real Troll (the first of the series) 
I Will Not Fight the Argument (the second)
Supermarket Wrestling (third conversation)
Do You Even Pray (the troll returns)
All Means All (A fifth conversation)
The Doctrine that Cannot Be Challenged (sixth conversation)
Toward Sodom - (a halfhearted seventh conversation)
Millions of Years of Death (the eighth conversation)
Truth with Untruth (the ninth conversation)
Bulls, Dogs, and Villains (the tenth conversation)