Don't Take Your Gun to Church

DC: Our show is about to begin again. As you re-enter the hall please check to be sure your cell phones and beepers are turned off, your hearing aids are turned down, your pacemakers are engaged and your drug patches firmly attached.

JP: If you have a metal plate in your skull, make sure it's screwed down, please inform the usher if you have an artificial knee or hip, and above all else, if you have a concealed weapon you can't come in here.

DC: Take note of the signage, one of the requirements of Minnesota's new concealed weapons law.
This is something every manager of a public place has had to consider, from theaters to schools to churches.
Although if you assume that the reason for carrying a concealed weapon is to protect one's self from an imminent threat, it's hard to imagine what sort of threat would lead a person to pack heat at church.

JP: The times that I was threatened at church, it had to do with hellfire and damnation.

DC: And a handgun doesn't do much to ward that off.

JP: It could play a part in bringing it on.

DC: And so the message that we're getting back from the pulpits across denominations seems to be … generally … don't take your guns to church.

JP: Which sounds a lot like a song we've all heard …

DC: An atheist named Billy Joe
Was troubled by the void
He hungered for religion
Though it made him paranoid.

He changed his clothes and shined his shoes
And so began his search
And his mother cried as he walked out

JP: "Don't take your gun to church, son.
Leave your gun at home, Bill.
Don't take your gun to church."

DC: He laughed and kissed his mom and said
"No need to be alarmed".
"I'm looking for some love and peace
though I am heavily armed."

"I wouldn't shoot without a cause,
I'll not our name besmirch."
But she cried again as he rode away …

JP: "Don't take your gun to church, son.
Leave your gun at home, Bill.
Don't take your gun to church."

DC: He entered with his pistols packed
There was no warning sign.
The ushers didn't pat him down
He thought they didn't mind.

He found a pew with lots of room
He slid across the birch.
And felt the weight of mother's plea:

JP: "Don't take your gun to church, son.
Leave your gun at home, Bill.
Don't take your gun to church."

DC: The sermon dealt with stewardship
How giving is sublime
And Billy Joe, he felt ashamed
He hadn't brought a dime

He dropped his gun into the plate
He saw the usher lurch
And he heard again his mother's words:

JP: "Don't take your gun to church, son.
Leave your gun at home, Bill.
Don't take your gun to church."

DC: On second thought, thought Billy Joe
I could just write a check
He wrestled with the usher and the shot
Went through his neck

The congregation hushed
As Billy toppled from his perch
And wondered at his final words:

JP: "Don't take your gun to church, son.
Leave your gun at home, Bill.
Don't take your gun to church."