Thursday, September 29, 2011

The Art of Pimpin vs. The Art of Gospel. Two Sides of The Same Coin?



Recently, someone expressed the belief
that a church begins when people start gathering together in their home to pray
and read Scripture.
No sir, that’s not at all how Churches start.
The idea of starting a church is usually spawned shortly after an arrest.  While
locked up behind bars, our future Pastor realizes that spending years in prison
is not his cup of tea. There has to be an easier, legal way to con people out of
their money while giving them something in exchange that is viewed as
legitimate.
He racks his brain to come up with an idea. One day he does a checklist of his
skills and realizes that he has a commanding presence, plenty of game, an
understanding of what motivates people to do what he says and give him what he
wants, and a way of speaking that people (especially women) love to listen to.
He also has a great memory, which he formerly used to keep track of his
products, deals, profits, debts and bets.  He never had to write anything down
and was very successful at his game – until he got busted.
In the quiet of his new cell he lays his eye upon the Bible in the corner.   He
begins reading and memorizing the Good Book, chapter and verse. There’s no rush
really; he has years to accomplish this task, and to shore up his jail house
studies with historical information and sermons found with Google during his
library time.
Our future pastor, a product of San Quentin, Attica or some other penitentery
will come out of prison with his Religious Pimp Game tight as hell.
Quentin Attica starts to lecture on God and Jesus to the other convicts.  He
says the blessing at mealtime, and leads a group of convicts in Bible study on
Tuesday and Thursdays in a corner of the yard. This serves as his internship.
All he has to do is explain that yes, he was all those horrible things before,
but now he has seen THE LIGHT!  The Lord “touched” him during his darkest hour
while he was in prison, you see. Or maybe Jesus even spoke to him, or an Angel
came in the dark in his cell.  Whatever is his version of the story, somehow it
involves an amazing transformation while behind bars.
When he gets out he starts giving sermons on street corners and in halfway
houses.  People start giving him money for making them feel better.
Pretty soon he becomes a familiar face, and people start trusting him. He begins
talking to other people about starting a church.  Some of them are regular
trusting people, but many of them are his ex-buddies that are just as shady as
he is… er WAS.  They plan to serve as Deacons and Elders of his new
non-denominational church.
One of them just happens to know of an old building they can rent cheap. They
form a church with Quentin Attica Boy at the helm since he is the mouthpiece.
They spread the word far and wide of this exciting new, good looking and single
Pastor.  Women, hungry for the attentions of a new man and the promise of a
better life, flock to him… to soak up his energy and presence.  Some married
people may come too because they’ve heard this guy was touched and gives
inspiring sermons.
None of them realize that drug dealers and pimps, fences and gang leaders are
some of the smoothest, most manipulative men in the world, and they can easily
create a feeling of “inspiration” whenever they want.
When Quentin Attica starts referring to himself as “Doctor” he is legitimized
even more, though he never even graduated from high school and his degree from
the School of Hard Knocks with a Major in Gaming certainly provides him with no
scholarly knowledge.
However, this guy is very smart and very driven (these are the same skills that
made him successful in his bookie/pimp/drug dealing business).
Week after week, month after month, more people come and fill the collection
plate at Quentin Attica’s new church. These people join the church and start
tithing 10% of their salary as they have been instructed to do by God, so
Quentin tells them.
They organize committees to start fellowshipping and having fried fish, sweet
potato pie, and soul food dinner sales to bring in MORE people and MORE money.
Week after week, month after month, the needy, the broken, the confused, the
lonely, and the desperate come and fill the collection plate. They’re hoping for
a miracle, a blessing, a break and some of the prosperity they’ve been promised
if they give and their hearts are pure.  If they have a job, they start tithing
too.
Fast forward five years.  Quentin Attica now heads up one of the largest
churches in the area.  He is a political and spiritual force to be reckoned
with!
Quentin Attica the very eligible bachelor drives his silver gray Mercedes Benz
drop top through the city on his way to his church, having left his million
dollar estate in a gated community in the suburbs.  But he recently came back
from his honeymoon in Europe.  After sleeping with half the parishoners of his
church, he went to another city and brought back a wife.  Furious at the
betrayal but feeling guilty about having fornicated anyway, the women in his
church stay quiet and deal with the disappointment of not being chosen.
They watch as his new wife, the Queen of the Quentin Attica Fiefdom takes her
rightful place as his “helpmeet.”  She is rewarded for her support by being able
to shop at only the finest stores. She wears fancy hats, suits, jewelry and furs
in the winter.  The parishoners proudly point to the designer shoes and custom
made suits their good looking Pastor wears.  They find it exciting that their
service and money made this man what he is today.
To reward his minions for their loyalty, he actually sits on a throne in the
pulpit and puts on a great show every Sunday for their benefit. After all, they
paid for the entertainment. And what a show it is! You can practically see the
fire and brimstone rising up from the depths of hell as he sweats and paces and
stirs the flock of sexually frustrated and lonely single women into an orgasmic
frenzy!
“YES LAWD! THANK YOU JESUS! I LOVE YOU PASTOR!”
A decade later Doctor Quentin Attica is looking in the mirror at himself as he
prepares for Sunday service.  At 42 he is a well kept man with slightly graying
temples and smooth brown skin, draped attractively in gold jewelry of the finest
quality.
A quick look at his Cartier watch reminds him that it’s time to go. As he slides
on his fine suit jacket Quentin looks around at his 4500 square foot home and
takes a moment to reflect back on the pimpin, rock slinging and five year
incarceration that brought him to this moment.
He says to himself with a sly smirk “Jesus really has been good for me.“


Peeped over at: article