THE RECONNAISSANCE OF TRUTH
ALMOST GOT THE FULL DOSE OF TONGUES
See History of the Parasomnial Order, vol. 1, pp. 46, 985–035.
PART THREE
Matthew James visits City Church in Venice Beach, California, meets some nice kids, almost witnesses the speaking of tongues, and has an apocalyptic vision. Written months after the fact upon Wordpress.
On a lonely Sunday’s morning while eating a healthy bowl of cereal I looked up, scratched my head, pivoted, and felt a longing for Jesus H. Christ. I thought hard and long about my Reconnaissance of Truth exploration and couldn’t help but notice that I have only gone to two different churches within the past six months. That’s not very impressive at all, for my standards at least. I should be praising Jesus every Sunday for the sake of my salvation. For I felt a glimpse of guilt pour through my veins—traveling from my brain to my mammaries—from these thoughts of inadequacy. What kind of prophet am I? How could I be so lazy? Why would I deliberately disrespect God? I then stood up at the foot of the throne searching for the courage to ask my kind gracious heavenly father for help. I reached for the sky with both of my hands, grabbing for whatever hands grab for in situations such as these. “Elohim!” I commanded. “Please help me find an accessible church that I can relate to and feel like I am welcome; I would like one where I can meet the pastor face to face and discuss openly about various topics of faith; and, I would like one that will speak truth in the native tongue of God.” For I was desperate, and in dire need of a cure for my longing.
I waited and waited for the answer to my prayer. And by ‘waited and waited,’ I mean I actually waited about five minutes. And, I really didn’t wait; I kept busy by washing and putting away my cereal materials that I had just dirtied. Then I went to my room to check my e-mail for the umpteenth time for an e-mail I’d been expecting for weeks. While going through my spam messages I came across an ad for Awakenings, which is a website for finding simple solutions for life’s complicated problems. I thought to myself for a second: I shouldn’t click this ad because last time I clicked an ad like this $29.99 disappeared from my wallet and I never got it back. So I decided to click it anyway. I was taken to this site where everyone appeared happy. Initially I felt at ease seeing these images of happy people smiling at other happy people who were hugging happier people that seemed even happier than those smiling at the first group of happy people. They were members of the Awakening tribe, and they were wearing nothing but white ponchos and shower caps. It was like they had just gotten out of the shower and used the ponchos for drying purposes. I started clicking these various spiritual links and found I was feeling emptier than before; my longing was intensifying as the time was withering away. Then I noticed this curious ad that glistened. Upon looking at it, I felt calmness throughout my vivaciously attractive body. The twinkle was a sign from God, and quite possibly the answer to my prayer. I clicked it and it took me to this map showing me the path to total freedom. I got dressed in my Sunday’s best and headed west. I didn’t know where I was going, but in the lord I trusted, for I knew my compass was pointed in the right direction.
I arrived at the map’s designated location and found a parking spot in between two minivans facing the church house. Little did I know my Father in heaven was purposely guiding me to a crack house in the disguise of a Methodist church. I mean, this church was quite dilapidated. Its fences were emblazoned with graffiti, its telephone poles were decorated with shoes, and its crusty old skate ramps were sitting there ready and willing to crack the ribs of our children of the future. For I didn’t know the house of God could be defiled in such a way and still be a place of worship. I thought to myself: Do I really want to be here? This is a place for drug addicts and scallywags. There’s no way my longing is ever going to be cured by entering this godforsaken place. I began to feel this qualmy sense of danger enter my bosom. Beads of perspiration started to bud and slip from my armpits down to my stomach. I wasn’t prepared for this at all, for I had no idea what I was getting into. This could have been an initiation house for Mata Salvatuche for all I knew. Thank goodness it wasn’t, for my fears were assuaged when these two nice people greeted me out front and welcomed me to City Church. I walked in, slapped a smile on my face, and I hoped the Lord would forgive me for my deprecatory judgments.
Inside was kind of like a warehouse that somewhat resembled an elementary school’s auditorium. Metal fold-out chairs were lined up in rows facing a not-so-grand stage. The stage was prearranged with the musical instruments of a typical Christian rock band. In front of this stage was a wooden pulpit with a faulty microphone attached. There were only about 15 people there and I couldn’t figure out why. I just figured the fewness thereof was because of my early arrival. A couple of kids came up to me while I was looking at all the interesting artwork on the walls. They introduced themselves politely and asked me a few questions as to why I was there. I answered with my usual response that goes something along the lines of “I am here on a quest to find truth by means of faith.” Then they replied with, “That’s so awesome; I hope you enjoy the services, because our pastor is really cool.” A few minutes later this guy entered our little social circle with his smooth man-child face and his too-cool-for-school spiked hair. He shook my hand with a woman’s touch and then just plainly said, “Hi.” I thought to myself—as my grip lessened in fear that I was going to hurt his poor soft delicate hand—why isn’t this guy telling me his name? I told him mine. Why did he just say hi and leave without a moment’s notice? Well, it was a good thing the kids knew who he was. They told me that he was in fact the pastor.
Justin Frailey is his name and he is the progenitor of City Church. Actually, he and his wife started this whole church back in 2003, and by whole I mean, it started with four people in a park somewhere: where they would pray, sing, dance, and have crackers and juice for the meat offering. The church’s main goal is to have a church that everyone can join and relate to—no matter what their background is. They want to educate the people who think that church is meaningless and irrelevant. They want to invigorate the people who are at wits end—to help them on their journey through life. And, they want to preach the Word to the people like me who have an insatiate appetite for the truth, which in fact, led me to believe that this church was the answer to my prayer.
Static and sounds of electronics crackling surprised my unprepared ears as I found a seat directly behind this peculiar family of four. I looked ahead with curiosity and waited patiently for things to start. The sound system’s speakers finished their sporadic coughing fit and the band started their musical introduction. The tones of the keyboard filled the room with a reverberated touch of heaven while the teenaged bassist and drummer nervously waited for their cues. The singer/keyboardist who was of female descent introduced the band and welcomed us to City Church. I was kind of getting worried about the whole situation at this point, because I could see the girl’s transformation from normal to I-am-about-to-talk-to-Jesus normal. She then led us in a word of prayer, “Oh Lord Jesus our savior,” she said earnestly, while closing her eyes. “Your promise has fulfilled us.” She looked up and started to sway back and forth. The keyboard was playing a major (I-IV-V) progression which seemed to please the people; but as for me, I was wondering how long this musical introduction was going to last. “Your word is alive and with us, it is truth, it is everything.” She cued the drummer, the hi-hat started; I leaned in for an unexpected gentle fart, not knowing that all the townspeople were about to get up and start praising and swaying. “Jesus, oh Jesus, we glorify you in the name of Jesus,” she said, while brushing her bangs away from her eyes. “Father, bring peace among the congregation, and happiness throughout the world, amen.” A few people in the congregation replied with, “Amen, amen!” Then the bass started while the drums kicked it up a notch making the music lively with fervent inspiration. Hands started clapping to the rhythm, people where glowing with joy, and I just sat there looking around at the various people groovin’ to the tones of Jesus. I thought to myself: This music is going to drive me nuts! Then I reluctantly stood up to oblige this lady who motioned me to do so. I guess she wanted me to join in on feeling the spirit of the Lord. Fifteen minutes passed and I was still standing listening to the same I-IV-V progression with the same “Jesus, oh Jesus we love you” lyrics. Standing for that long caused my legs and lower back to ache with an irritating pain. I couldn’t figure out why the music was going on for so long. It just wouldn’t stop and I had just about had enough! I was on the verge of leaving, but something told me to stay put, so I stayed. The music finally stopped and the teenagers left the stage. The pastor got up from his chair and confidently walked to the pulpit. I sat down with my soul reluctantly open and was ready to hear the words of the one and only Justin Frailey.
An evil hiss spewed from the microphone as the pastor picked it up, he sized up the congregation—glancing from left to right—he spoke these words unto the people: “Wake up, and strengthen what remains and is on the point of death, for I have not found your works perfect in the sight of my God.” These words struck my ears thunderously, and sank into my blood as his glance pierced through the souls of the sparse congregation. “Today,” he said, “I’m going to talk about the Book of Revelation, and I’m going to let you in on a little secret.” I looked to the lady next to me twirling her hair, eagerly waiting for him to divulge. “Revelation is a revelation from Jesus Christ my friends,” he marveled, as if we were his buddies, “and Jesus—not Satan—is going to take over the world; not on Jesus’ terms, but on God’s terms.” Now, not only was I frightened by this apocalyptic Jesus, I was a little frightened by our pastor. He had this imperious way of speaking, that made me, well, tremble. His ominous tone made me regret my previous judgments about the appearance of this church. He convinced me that Jesus was going to toss me into the lake of fire because of my insidious behavior. Then he looked at me and said, “It needs to bother us that the world is going to hell in a hand basket, and you need to change this!” I thought to myself how can I change this? Hasn’t the world already gone to hell and back numerous times before? How in the world am I—of all people—going to change this? The world is what it is, and there is not one thing I can do about it. Then, as if he read my thoughts, he told me the one-word answer to my many questions, “Prayer.” It’s as simple as that. He said, “Prayer changes things.” He had this look on his face like he had just given us the age old recipe for immortality. Then out of nowhere, a long drawn out moan emanated from the mouth of an unidentified lady. “Jeeesssssuuuuuuuuusssssssss,” she bewailed. This ghastly sound freaked me out. I didn’t know what it was or where it came from. It sounded like it came from beyond the grave. Then again I heard, “Jeeeeeeessssssssuuuuuuuuusssss!” This one came from another female sitting right in front of me. It was chilling, and I wasn’t sure if that was the native tongue of God or not. “Now,” the pastor said sternly. “Jesus doesn’t want just any old prayer now does he?” At this point I didn’t know what Jesus wanted. “Well, he wants fervent prayer my friends. You don’t see fans at a football game cheering in their heads, do you? You see them cheering with fervent passion, and that’s what Jesus wants.” As the pastor was saying all this, feelings of guilt started creeping in and I didn’t know how to deal with them. I looked around to see how everybody else was doing, and they all seemed fine and happy. I was scared of the end. I didn’t know how to take all this stuff about the apocalypse and prayer and Satan and judgment and hell and so on and so on. I was so rapt in thought that I didn’t even hear the pastors concluding words. I just saw him all caught up in the Lord’s work doing his gesticulations and whatnot. He eventually finished his sermon and then the children came back for a final song of praise. While the kids were singing I sat there perplexed, confused, distraught, and guilt ridden because of what I had just heard. So many conflicting thoughts were going through my head and I felt as though my questions weren’t answered. Then the music stopped and I got up and slowly exited the church.
I stepped outside and noticed that the winds had picked up. I felt low as if on the South Pole of my conscience. I walked to my car and sat there for awhile reflecting on the sermon. I watched the people leaving the church house for awhile, and then I started my car and headed home. I could feel the wind against my car as I drove along the streets of LA. My mind started thinking about all the changes that I needed to make. I felt I needed to repent for anything and everything. Agitated from these thoughts, I pressed the brakes hard and stopped at the third light that had just turned red. I felt a powerful looming presence come over me that was more intense than anything I’ve ever felt before. The anxiety was pumping and my heart started to race. I didn’t know what to do, so I took a deep breath, and I decided to pray like the pastor told me. With my eyes closed I began to rock back and forth. I beseeched my Father in heaven with words of passion. “Father,” I cried out loud. “I feel a terrible feeling inside after attending the church you guided me to. It was not the experience I was looking for. The pastor instilled a great fear that I’ve never experienced before which led to feelings of wretchedness. My mind is mush and in a state of dissonance. I need something, but that something is something I can’t comprehend. I pray thee; send me a sign.”
My eyes opened gently and I looked up and saw. I saw three great lights, exceedingly red lights that took the form of traffic lights, for I was still stopped at that ridiculous light that would not for the life of it turn green. I heard a still small voice whispering in Chinese just outside my car. I looked to my right searching for the whisper and I beheld a great human figure. He was standing tall with an afro of fire looking in my direction. He was calm with enamored repose as if nothing were to bother him. The mark of the ginger was upon him; for he knew his glory. His legs were covered in gauze and his arms were mottled with a pinkish delight. He was holding a sign that read, SEEK AND YOU’LL BE PLEASANTLY BEFUDDLED. I felt compelled to offer my helping hand, but little did I know, he would be offering me his helping hand. So I motioned him over and said, “Hi sir, need a ride?” He replied with a strange response in the form of a question, “Three what?” Then I said, “Did I say three? What do you mean? Just get in and I’ll take you where you need to go.” He waited a good minute before he spoke again, and the light had finally turned green. “Threefold Rebuke!” he replied, and then he got in. We took off with the antemeridian sun shining above us, for I felt God’s glory was with us.
He looked like a giant with his legs cramped up against the dash. His hands were wedged between his thighs which made me think he was cold. I tried to ask him questions but he just sat there quietly with his afro of fire bunched against the top of my car. His stench was overwhelming. I’ve never smelled anything like it before. And his fro made a funny squishy sound after every bump in the road. I didn’t really know what to say to this guy. I tried talking to him once more by asking him another question. He just sat there, and he didn’t even look in my direction. I started to wonder why I even picked this guy up. Then I began to feel light headed and dizzy, and my eyes were heavy, but somehow light at the same time. I was seeing things that didn’t resemble anything I had ever seen before. It was like a veil was being removed and my eyes were seeing a new hyper-geometric field of vision. The Man of Ginger then looked at me, and his Afro of Fire began to chant a mantra of portent, “Fire Wilt Thy Pubis, Water Soddened Sebum.” For it was confusing and I didn’t know what was going on. I was transfixed on his face of pallid. His facial mannerisms were almost euphoric and milky now. His mouth was encrusted with what looked like stale glue. He had one of the better bad gum-to-teeth ratio’s I had ever seen, with three teeth total: One of a Squirrel, one of a Gerbil, and one of a Hamster. The Squirrel and the Gerbil had cavities in their ivory like a baby crater, and the holes were covered by a swarthy coat of majesty. The Hamster was barren and uncovered, for his ivory was without protection. The Man of Ginger spoke with his fingers in his mouth and said, “These two represent your two previous prayers, and the Hamster represents your prayer to come.” Then I heard something outside tapping on the car. It was clashing with the rhythm of the mantra. The Man of Ginger’s legs began ticking to the rhythm of the mantra, “Fire Wilt thy Pubis, Water Soddened Sebum.” The movements of his legs were like that of sea snakes, for they were hypnotic and put my mind in a trance. I tried to speak, but a force within put hold on my vocal cords causing a temporary aphonia. My brain neurons felt like they had been disconnected and were being reconnected to a different astral setting. I felt a pressure in my temples when I beheld the outside world’s forthcoming demise. Then out of nowhere, the wind delivered a torrent of dust that obstructed my view as the earth shook and the road split in two. Clouds covered the skies and roared with anger as fire spontaneously ignited along the shoulders of the roads. I had little time to choose—left or right? Right I went, for I knew the right-hand path was the correct path. A sign appeared in front of me indicating that Threefold Rebuke was 3 miles away. The Afro of Fire’s mantra faded away and the Man of Ginger said, “To fulfill the prophecy you must make two left turns and one right.” I made the first two left turns, and then I spotted Hamstark St. and made my last right turn. The Man of Ginger commanded me to park in the median and walk three hundred eighteen steps into the fiery desert.
The conflagration around me was stifling, for the fires pressed heat upon my skin and the smoke violated my lungs of pure. I heard thunder, exceedingly loud thunder. I looked up and saw the skies open before me. The clouds cleared and let the light shine through. Then an oversized Hamster holding his prolapsed anus descended gracefully unto me. The fires ceased and all that was left was a stain of blackness upon the earth. I fell prostrate immediately and my vocal chords regained their strength. For I was filled with the Spirit, and I prayed unto the Hamster. I said, “Oh great Hamster of old, my mind is confused, my knowledge is sparse, and I simply don’t understand the complexities of truth by means of faith. Please help me find my freedom, even if it means a freedom from religion. I pray thee oh Great One.” I looked up with hungry eyes and the Hamster cocked his head in my direction; he spoke these words unto me, “My son, my precious son, don’t you know that you already have that freedom? You just need the tools to gain the knowledge you speak of, and when your knowledge grows, you will be granted that freedom.” Then I pleaded, “Please help me develop the tools for that knowledge.” The Great Hamster of the Sky slowly put forth his right hand, and in his palm was an image of a heavenly man. The man grew tall from his hand and clasped his hands together. He spoke these words of wisdom unto me:
I am Buchannon the Evangelist and I was sent from the Lord to help thee on thy journey. For thy pastor taught thee wrong in his teachings of the Book of Revelation—thus ye are confused. By the power of skewed perception he has instilled a strong fear within. Ye must understand that this text was written in a time and genre foreign unto thee, and if ye are not equipped with prior revelatory knowledge, ye may fall!
Now when thine eyes are laid upon words of old, can it not lead thee to misconceptions? When thy ears are filled with misconceptions, can it not lead thee to anxiety? When thy bosom is filled with anxiety, can it not lead thee to irrational behavior? Therefore, when ye eat what is good for food, eat for the stomach; not the mouth.
Behold, I have come to explain unto thee the apocalyptic worldview of the people of old, for ye needeth my helping hand. Thy must first understand the four pillars of this worldview, where dualism, pessimism, vindication, and imminence prevail.
The remnants of fallen prophecy caused the great chasm of good and evil in the times of old. And the belief was that the present time was ruled by the forces of evil, and the time to come was to be taken over by the forces of good. And it came to pass that the people of old held these views which led to the belief of these evils intensifying. But behold, at the end of the age of evil, God would grace the people of old with his judgments and vindicate those of righteousness and cast those of wickedness into the lake of fire. For the time of God’s arrival was at hand unto the people of old. But, all on a metaphorical and symbolic level.
And during the time of persecution, many apocalyptic writings were brought forth with themes radiating this worldview. And behold, many of these writings contained visions of bizarre symbolic imagery, which was a literary convention at the time, and thus brings babble to the people of new. The symbolism was meant for the people of old; not for the people of new. For thy pastor has ripped the writings of John out of its original time and used it for his own purposes—for he did not have the revelatory knowledge.
And as for thee, my brother, may thine heart be at peace now, for the knowledge I grant thee is now ready for exploration and study. I urge thee to take it and do what thou wilt until thine exaltation grows.
Are now ye seeing the light from the darkness? Ye must search deeper for further understanding. It is intellectual moil, but ye must not put out thy fire within which I hath kindled. Peace will be upon thee when ye hast exorcised the power of continuous questioning. Now go thy way; ask and ye shall eventually receive, amen.
The Hamster closed his hand and the image of Buchannon the Evangelist vanished into thin air. Then he ascended to heaven and the blackness of the earth was no more, for this ascension of the honking Hamster caused a peace in the land. I put my hands on my steering wheel and realized I was still in my car. I looked up and saw three great lights, and they were green. Behind me were the faces of indignation in dire need to press onward. I took my foot off the brake and slowly started moving forward as the cars violently raced around me. I glanced to the right and saw a homeless man holding a sign; it read, FIRE WILT THY PUBIS, WATER SODDENED SEBUM. I realized what had just happened and was thankful I didn’t get rear ended.
On the drive home I gathered my thoughts and began to tear up. I felt that my experience at City Church was in fact a positive one, even though I was uncomfortable with all the apocalyptic preaching. I realized that the bible is just a collection of ancient writings that addresses various issues that came about in ancient times. People are always going to interpret things the way they want to, and pastors are always going to preach how they want to preach, for that is the glory of interpretation and preaching. The pastor at City Church preached an interpretation of the Book of Revelation in a style that didn’t sit well with me. He was passionate about his work and there was no doubt about that, but, he caused me great fear and guilt. His teachings taught me that the world was soon to end and that our prayers could change the destruction thereof. What I’ve learned about prayer is that it doesn’t change things. What prayer does is it comforts the mind and it gives hope to the people who are doing it. It doesn’t change the outcome of things, but, if the outcome is positive, the prayer is going to get the credit. That’s not even the point. The point is, I met some friendly people at City Church and had a very interesting time there. I don’t think I’ll ever go back though. But, I do want to give thanks to the pastor at City Church for giving me the experience I needed to move forward in my studies of the bible. If it weren’t for his strong belief that the world was at its end I wouldn’t have ever thought twice about reading and studying the Book of Revelation. Now, I would like to say that I am sorry to all the people who actually read this. My deepest sympathy goes out to you. I hope I have helped with whatever it was that you needed. And remember: It is not the end of the world as we know it, and I do feel fine.
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