Church Stories Introduction

/ Stories / HierCon (Non-convivial Hierarchy) / Church /

My Pastor story was sort of a foundation church story at, and I just recreated it here ahead of the others. Understand, there are many not yet told.

[God] needs to speak to people, on account that the church doesn’t listen to Him.
Cornwell, Agincourt

Realize: I merely refer to my personal experiences: me, pk; seven, eight, nine figures worth of people got shafted by churches before I was born, before I experienced my first shaft. (But also realize: we’re shafted by all our institutions: church shaftings merely have a particular flavor.
I now forecast a few, told and to be told:

In Hilton Head Island the woman who’d asked to support me while I wrote my first novel was keeping me as a boy-toy and not letting me write. She didn’t even give me a place to plug in the typewriter. I thought an objective third party might help, she agreed to see a Presbyterian minister with me, but then she must have bribed him, he proved to be very far from objective: another betrayer of Christ wearing the cloth.

In Lamberville NJ, still starving (though then over a third novel), I introduced myself to an anglican priest as a disciple of Jesus, a disciple of Ivan Illich, told him about my writing, my truthful divinity-fiction. He introduced me to a social worker, the latter promised to get me fed, get me housed, get me on welfare: Go to such and such a motel and wait for her there. That’s the last I ever heard from either of them: no food, no shelter, no welfare, just lies. Did they even know they had betrayed me? I doubt it.

Here in Sebring FL the Unitarian pastor, Andy Conyer, has betrayed his ministry with me more than twice. I’ll supply details. Another broken promise was the most recent.

Here in Sebring a Jesuit priest at St. Catherine’s Roman Catholic Church promised to put me in touch with a priest more likely than himself to be able to get me in touch with the Church in Brazil, where Ivan Illich, my colleague, had had the most divine-revolutionary friends, with an aim to getting me political asylum there. Another lie: I think he was just getting rid of me.

What did I expect? He was still with the Church! Illich had been defrocked. I was telling these priests that they had failed both God and Christ. Of course they didn’t want anyone to hear me. That’s why I’m unpublished, have had few intelligent dialogues, especially since 1970.

The church is about money, lad, money.
Cornwell, Agincourt

The joke has it that all the friars are in hell and up the devil’s ass hole. It ain’t just friars! wove pk stories throughout the modules, then also collected pk stories in the Personal folder, then moved pk’s personal stories illustrating the conflict between hierarchical society and the “Christian” goal of conviviality to the Teaching folder, but also had a section in the Personal stories folder of stories about others, stories where pk was repeating some one else’s story. One of those yet to be told at I’ll forecast here: it’s very much about hierarchy defeating conviviality:

When I was assaulted in my residence park by the park manager in June 1997 and the police did next to nothing, a friend suggested that I compare notes with the head of the local militia, David Chapman. I failed to connect at first with David Chapman, later I learned why: he was in jail. Dave headed the militia alright, and also headed his own church, out of his home. Dave was the pope of his religion, his house was his church. The state is supposed to leave churches alone: though they don’t have to if the congregation is too small to carry weight. Dave drilled his militia men in armed defense with it understood that the invader could be cops, local or federal, or soldiers, local, federal, or foreign. The cops invaded his church, pistol whipped him, and dragged his bloody body to jail.

Dave seems to be now, the last time I communicated with him, as then, a nut: but so what? How does one being odd license the government thugs to beat one up? Well, of course no one knew that the cops had done it: at least not via the papers, not via the local TV …

When I was arrested, the arrest was mentioned in the paper, but not as the cops terrorizing and threatening the saint of Christian conviviality, disciple of Ivan Illich, philosopher, writer, inventor of the internet; no: the cops had arrested a mass-murderer-terrorist: or some such lie: I didn’t see the article, only had it reported to me, a year and a quarter later, by my landlord (the current, good, one; not the one who may have had me attacked).

Hierarchy vs. Conviviality Stories

About pk

Seems to me that some modicum of honesty is requisite to intelligence. If we look in the mirror and see not kleptocrats but Christians, we’re still in the same old trouble.
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