by Norman Walford
“You do know he wears make-up, don’t
you?”
This was one of the milder comments
I got when I announced to a few select friends that after 14 years of
struggling to find my place in the Pharisee Church of St
Gregory-the-Try-Harder, I was throwing in the towel. From now on I would be
transferring my allegiance to Nearly Creative, the rapidly growing megachurch
down the road, and its secretive, multicoloured, multicultural, senior
pastor—his real name is a closely guarded secret so I’ll just call him “JP” for
now. (Not JC, that’s already taken.) He of the make-up. I’m not sure what
colour lipstick he wears—I’ve never got close enough to find out, and I
probably never will. Such is the massive popularity of the church I’m just
happy if I can get in through the door on a Sunday morning, forget any thoughts
of getting close enough to the front** to check his mascara isn’t running under
the lights.