On the screen appear numerous geometrical forms—prisms, cylinders, cubes — dancing, spinning, changing shape, in a very stunning computer animation. In the background sounds the pulsing beat of techno music. The forms waver, and then coalesce into letters: “Religion Within the Bounds of Amusement.”
The music and image fade, to reveal a man, perfect in form and appearance, every hair in place, wearing a jet black suit and a dark, sparkling tie. He leans forward slightly, as the camera focuses in on him.
“Good morning, and I would like to extend a warm and personal welcome to each and every one of you from those of us at the Church of the Holy Television. Please sit back, relax, and turn off your brain.”
Music begins to play, and the screen shows a woman holding a microphone. She is wearing a long dress of the whitest white, the color traditionally symbolic of goodness and purity, which somehow manages not to conceal her unnaturally large breasts. The camera slowly focuses in as she begins to sing.
“You got problems? That’s OK. You got problems? That’s OK. Not enough luxury? That’s OK. Only three cars? That’s OK. Not enough power? That’s OK. Can’t get your way? That’s OK. Not enough for you? That’s OK. Can’t do it on your own? That’s OK. You got problems? That’s OK. You got problems? That’s OK. Just call out to Jesus, and he’ll make them go away. Just call out to Jesus, and he’ll make them go away.”
As the music fades, the camera returns to the man.
“Have you ever thought about how much God loves us? Think about the apex of progress that we are at, and how much more he has blessed us than any one else.
“The Early Christians were in a dreadful situation. They were always under persecution. Because of this, they didn’t have the physical assurance of security that is the basis for spiritual growth, nor the money to buy the great libraries of books that are necessary to cultivate wisdom. It is a miracle that Christianity survived at all.
“The persecution ended, but darkness persisted for a thousand years. The medievals were satisfied with blind faith, making it the context of thought and leisure. Their concept of identity was so weak that it was entangled with obedience. The time was quite rightly called the Dark Ages.
“But then, ah, the Renaissance and the Enlightenment. Man and his mind enthroned. Religion within the bounds of reason. Then science and technology, the heart of all true progress, grew.
“And now, we sit at the apex, blessed with more and better technology than anyone else. What more could you possibly ask for? What greater blessing could there possibly be? We have the technology, and know how to enjoy it. Isn’t God gracious?”
There is a dramatic pause, and then the man closes his eyes. “Father, I thank you that we have not fallen into sin; that we do not worship idols, that we do not believe lies, and that we are not like the Pharisees. I thank you that we are good, moral people; that we are Americans. I thank you, and I praise you for your wondrous power. Amen.”
He opens his eyes, and turns to the camera. It focuses in on his face, and his piercing gaze flashes out like lightning. With a thunderous voice, he boldly proclaims, “To God alone be the glory, for ever and ever!”
The image fades.
In the background can be heard the soft tones of Beethoven. A couple fades in; they are elegantly dressed, sitting at a black marble table, set with roast pheasant. The room is of Baroque fashion; marble pillars and mirrors with gilt frames adorn the walls. French windows overlook a formal garden.
The scene changes, and a sleek black sports car glides through forest, pasture, village, mountain. The music continues to play softly.
It passes into a field, and in the corner of the field a small hovel stands. The camera comes closer, and two half-naked children come into view, playing with some sticks and a broken Coca-Cola bottle. Their heads turn and follow the passing car.
A voice gently intones, “These few seconds may be the only opportunity some people ever have to know about you. What do you want them to see?”
The picture changes. Two men are walking through a field. As the camera comes closer, it is seen that they are deep in conversation.
One of them looks out at the camera with a probing gaze, and then turns to the other. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know, Jim.” He draws a deep breath, and closes his eyes. “I just feel so… so empty. A life filled with nothing but shallowness. Like there’s nothing inside, no purpose, no meaning. Just an everlasting nothing.”
“Well, you know, John, for every real and serious problem, there is a solution which is trivial, cheap, and instantaneous.” He unslings a small backpack, opening it to pull out two cans of beer, and hands one to his friend. “Shall we?”
The cans are opened.
Suddenly, the peaceful silence is destroyed by the blare of loud rock music. The camera turns upwards to the sky, against which may be seen parachutists; it spins, and there is suddenly a large swimming pool, and a vast table replete with great pitchers and kegs of beer. The parachutists land; they are all young women, all blonde, all laughing and smiling, all wearing string bikinis, and all anorexic.
For the remaining half of the commercial, the roving camera takes a lascivious tour of the bodies of the models. Finally, the image fades, and a deep voice intones, “Can you think of a better way to spend your weekends?”
The picture changes. A luxury sedan, passing through a ghetto, stops beside a black man, clad in rags. The driver, who is white, steps out in a pristine business suit, opens his wallet, and pulls out five crisp twenty dollar bills.
“I know that you can’t be happy, stealing, lying, and getting drunk all of the time. Here is a little gift to let you know that Jesus loves you.” He steps back into the car without waiting to hear the man’s response, and speeds off.
Soon, he is at a house. He steps out of the car, bible in hand, and rings the doorbell.
The door opens, and a man says, “Nick, how are you? Come in, do come in. Have a seat. I was just thinking of you, and it is so nice of you to visit. May I interest you in a little Martini?”
Nick sits down and says, “No, Scott. I am a Christian, and we who are Christian do not do such things.”
“Aah; I see.” There is a sparkle in the friend’s eye as he continues, “And tell me, what did Jesus do at his first miracle?”
The thick, black, leatherbound 1611 King James bible arcs through the air, coming to rest on the back of Scott’s head. There is a resounding thud.
“You must learn that the life and story of Jesus are serious matters, and not to be taken as the subject of jokes.”
The screen turns white as the voice glosses, “This message has been brought to you by the Association of Concerned Christians, who would like to remind you that you, too, can be different from the world, and can present a positive witness to Christ.”
In the studio again, the man is sitting in a chair.
“Now comes a very special time in our program. You, our viewers, matter most to us. It is your support that keeps us on the air. And I hope that you do remember to send us money; when you do, God will bless you. So keep your checks rolling, and we will be able to continue this ministry, and provide answers to your questions. I am delighted to be able to hear your phone calls. Caller number one, are you there?”
“Yes, I am, and I would like to say how great you are. I sent you fifty dollars, and someone gave me an anonymous check for five hundred! I only wish I had given you more.”
“That is good to hear. God is so generous. And what is your question?”
“I was wondering what God’s will is for America? And what I can do to help?”
“Thank you; that’s a good question.
“America is at a time of great threat now; it is crumbling because good people are not elected to office.
“The problem would be solved if Christians would all listen to Rush Limbaugh, and then go out and vote. Remember, bad people are sent to Washington by good people who don’t vote. With the right men in office, the government would stop wasting its time on things like the environment, and America would become a great and shining light, to show all the world what Christ can do.
“Caller number two?”
“I have been looking for a church to go to, and having trouble. I just moved, and used to go to a church which had nonstop stories and anecdotes; the congregation was glued to the edges of their seats. Here, most of the services are either boring or have something which lasts way too long. I have found a few churches whose services I generally enjoy—the people really sing the songs—but there are just too many things that aren’t amusing. For starters, the sermons make me uncomfortable, and for another, they have a very boring time of silent meditation, and this weird mysticism about ‘kiss of peace’ and something to do with bread and wine. Do you have any advice for me?”
“Yes, I do. First of all, what really matters is that you have Jesus in your heart. Then you and God can conquer the world. Church is a peripheral; it doesn’t really have anything to do with Jesus being in your heart. If you find a church that you like, go for it, but if there aren’t any that you like, it’s not your fault that they aren’t doing their job.
“And the next caller?”
“Hello. I was wondering what the Song of Songs is about.”
“The Song of Songs is an allegory of Christ’s love for the Church. Various other interpretations have been suggested, but they are all far beyond the bounds of good taste, and read things into the text which would be entirely inappropriate in holy Scriptures. Next caller?”
“My people has a story. I know tales of years past, of soldiers come, of pillaging, of women ravaged, of villages razed to the ground and every living soul murdered by men who did not hesitate to wade through blood. Can you tell me what kind of religion could possibly decide that the Crusades were holy?”
The host, whose face had suddenly turned a deep shade of red, shifted slightly, and pulled at the side of his collar. After a few seconds, a somewhat less polished voice hastily states, “That would be a very good question to answer, and I really would like to, but I have lost track of time. It is now time for an important message from some of our sponsors.”
The screen is suddenly filled by six dancing rabbits, singing about toilet paper.
A few minutes of commercials pass: a computer animated flash of color, speaking of the latest kind of candy; a family brought together and made happy by buying the right brand of vacuum cleaner; a specific kind of hamburger helping black and white, young and old to live together in harmony. Somewhere in there, the Energizer bunny appears; one of the people in the scene tells the rabbit that he should have appeared at some time other than the commercial breaks. Finally, the host, who has regained his composure, is on the screen again.
“Well, that’s all for this week. I hope you can join us next week, as we begin a four part series on people whose lives have been changed by the Church of the Holy Television. May God bless you, and may all of your life be ever filled with endless amusement!”