El Tap

“Okay. Danny, we’re talking about God, God for Christ’s sake. He created the entire universe. Why would God need anybody to bring people to him? All he would need to do is click his fingers, and one thing is certain, he wouldn’t need the services of two former altar boys to achieve his goal. Look, Danny, there’s a lot about religion I haven’t ever been able to buy into. I’ve had a problem with it since we were kids. The Catholics came to America to bring Christianity to the Indians and when the Indians don’t fall to their knees, they killed them. There’s a lot about this Baptist stuff I can’t buy into. I can not for the life of me go along with the ‘saved’ stuff. Didn’t we learn that Christ died to save us from our sins before we learned to tie our shoes?”
Danny said nothing but he did smile.
“I just can’t go with this thing that if a person doesn’t come to the altar crying and screaming and accepting Jesus as their personal savior, they can’t go to Heaven. Danny, you know that’s crap. It doesn’t even make sense. Jesus died for us, yet in order to go to Heaven a person's got to come forward wailing like a banshee. Danny, anybody with enough sense to keep from pissing on himself knows better than that.”
Again, Danny said nothing, looked away and lowered his face into his hand to hide his smile.
“And, there’s something else.”
“Something else?” Danny asked without looking at Davy.
“I don’t want the responsibility of knowing that because I didn’t say the right words, make the right statement, or make the right motion to trigger some guy’s emotions, that he didn’t break down into tears and get ‘saved’ and he’s going to Hell. I don’t want that. I don’t want it at all.”
“I have to ask then, why the Baptist thing?”
“Because I love the one-on-one. It was never there with the Catholics, you know that.”
“Yes, I know. You’re right, it wasn’t.”
“Danny, you’ve seen me preach. I don’t do the altar calls. I loved the ground my step-father walked on, but he would do at least a half hour of ‘come forward to be saved’ every week. I thought it was silly. I still think it’s silly. I just can’t do it.”
Danny shook his head then turned away. He was trying to hide a laugh.
“You can quit hiding your face. I know what you’re doing. You’re laughing at me.”
Danny turned to Davy. The smile was still on his face. “No, my friend, and that’s what you are, my friend. I’m not laughing at you. In my own way, I’m gaining new respect for you.”
“New respect, what kind of new respect?”
“I think you’re saying something.”
“Saying what?”
“Saying that if Jesus died for us, it took care of everything. He wouldn’t expect, or need us to, how shall I put this. . . run up front crying.”
“You knew?”
“Sure I did. How many of your services have I attended?”
“I don’t know, quite a few.”
“How many altar calls have you done?”
“I ask anyone who wishes to join the church to come forward–“
”You know what I’m talking about.”
“The ‘come forward and be saved’ stuff? None. I have tried. I just can’t do it. I. . . I just can’t do it. To me it’s like spitting in Christ’s face. I guess it’s what you said. If we buy into Christ died so we could go to Heaven, he doesn’t need some clown like me. . .” Davy was suddenly silent.
“I know. Like I said, I knew the first time I went to one of your services. I knew. But, we’ve developed the way to do it. A good way. One of us explains the biblical passage, the other one gives a great sermon. We throw in a few hymns and prayers and it’s done. And, the good part is that there’s not a thing that says the only people who can do it are Daniel West and David Tait. We can train others to do it. But I have a question?”
“Yes sir.”
“Have you noticed a drop in the number of Hispanics in church on Sunday?”
“Not really, but come to think of it, I believe the Gringos are about to outnumber the Hispanics.”