Poor Sam Davison just looks so out of place. You’d think one of those other men could at least throw him a pity Ph.D. from one of their basement bible colleges. In fact, I’d like to take this opportunity to offer him one of our own degrees from Old Paths University to correct this deficiency.
Now it’s time for more from the halls of crazy people fundies love to have tell them about the devil’s nefarious plans to corrupt your children with action figures. Meet David Benoit, Christian, preacher, and freelance demon hunter.
His website reports “in the past several years, David has used his vast knowledge of the occult and the New Age movement to show how Satan is subtly gaining entrance into our families and our churches through seemingly harmless children’s toys, movies and cartoons. He has authored four books on this subject.”
With as much as he’s opposed to all things fantasy, I’ll bet if we could look at his computer we’d find that he’s a closet night elf mohawk. I’m just sayin.
Now David himself might not be a fundamentalist, since he does apparently preach at non-denominational churches, but he’s definitely a something fundies like.
(video found at Christian Nightmares)
Bob Jones and Hyles Anderson College are nothing alike. They’re so completely different and separated and not at all the same that Bob Jones III is going to be preaching at the same conference as Jack Schaap and Mike Norris this summer.
I guess as long as they’re on different nights then it’s all good and nobody should get all confused and think that maybe they’re not as different as they’d like people to think that they are.
Update 1: Multiple sources have now confirmed to me that Rick Arrowood has dropped out of the conference upon learning that Schaap was attending. Further updates as they become available.
Update 2: Apparently BJIII has decided to bring Dr. Eric Newton (Dean of Students at BJU) with him as the second speaker.
The last hymn is sung. The prayer is said. The people mill around in the back of the church chatting and herding their offspring towards the church doors and the promise of Sunday dinner. The pastor stands by the door shaking hands and sweating profusely from the effort he has just expended in the pulpit.
He wipes his brow with a hanky and smiles at one of his adoring flock.
“I felt real freedom to preach today,” he says.
The congregant smiles and nods. This phrase is standard pastor-speak and not to be thought about too deeply. And the line at the local buffet is growing longer so there’s no time to dawdle.
But for those of us who are peeking in this little scene, the question remains: what exactly did the pastor have freedom from while he was pounding on the furniture and yelling himself into apoplexy this morning?
Was it freedom from common decency and common sense?
Freedom from goodness, meekness, and gentleness?
Freedom from “human logic” and the confining bounds of actual meaning of the text before him?
Freedom from critiques and questions from those listening as to how he managed to get an entire sermon point about the evils of imported cars out of Ezekiel?
And most importantly of all, did the truth of his sermon leave his people feeling as free in the pew as he felt in the pulpit or did that “freedom” merely wrap them in tighter chains of bondage?
“I just felt a lot of freedom up there today,” the pastor repeats as the next church member in line smiles and nods and scurries away.
It must be a nice feeling. If only everybody else had felt it too.
No, seriously, this guy stops in the middle of the song and preaches a sermon thwarting every effort of the choir director to get the music started again.