The Shrink and The Shyster
After finally completing my college degree, I landed a job as a salesman. This wasn’t exactly what I had hoped for when I went back to college, but I was making more money than I ever made in radio, so I justified it. Some people are made for the sales game, but not me. I never had that killer instinct it takes to truly love sales. However, I rationalized that the money would make up for the time I spent screwing around as a disc jockey. Unfortunately, little did I know, I was headed for a setback far greater than my 4 year detour into radio.
Over the next few years, I learned to cope with my new career by getting, and staying, stoned. The higher education of my college years became a sad dysfunctional coping mechanism. My daily love affair with pot was about to become my undoing. After 11 years of marriage, I smoked myself into a psych ward, and a divorce. On my second day in the hospital, I was assigned to a psychiatrist who recognized my issue in our first session. It turned out he was a recovering alcoholic and he saw right through my pathetic tale of woe. When he asked me if I was abusing any drugs or alcohol, he already knew the answer. Immediately I was enrolled in a drug treatment program, and I moved back to live with my parents in Ohio. I was not happy. Everything I knew was crumbling around me, but today I look back on that chain of events and feel fortunate. Was it a coincidence that I got assigned to the shrink from Alcohol Anonymous? I may never know, but one thing is for sure, that was the first step to getting my life back.
Since I was fixing things, I also made the decision to go back to church, but this time I was going to try the bible thumping version. It seemed to be working for a lot of people in West Michigan. So as soon as I got to Ohio, I went looking for a new church. It was 1996, and the 5,000 seat mega-churches had yet to arrive in this part of Ohio, but I found the largest one I could. The church I selected had roughly 1000 seats in an auditorium built in an abandoned shopping center. Not quite like the “tabernacle” in West Michigan, but it was the biggest game in town. So, I made plans to attend that Sunday.
When I entered the building, it felt more like a sales convention than a church service. There was rock-n-roll style music playing, and the place was packed. I found a seat in the back row, close to an entrance, and just took it all in. The music was cranking and the people in the crowd were clapping, and singing along. The songs weren’t familiar, but I had to admit, it was more entertaining than the dusty old hymns we sang at the United Methodist Church. The band played, and played, and played, for close to 45 minutes. The music was nice, but I was there to change my life, not attend a concert. I was ready to get on with it. Finally, a few speakers came out. There were some announcements, a bible reading, a few prayers, and then it was time for the big guy.
The band fired up again and out came the star of the show. And I’m not kidding. That’s exactly what it felt like. The congregation was cheering while this sharp-dressed man, probably in his mid-30s, came out on stage. My first impression…well, it wasn’t good. His hair was slicked back, and he was wearing a 3 piece sharkskin suit. The guy looked more like a character from Good Fellas than a minister. But, I was there to learn. So I sat up and got ready for the message. He spoke for well over half an hour, and to this day all I remember is he was proud of his Cadillac, and he wished he could be more like Pastor Hinn.
For those of you that are unaware, Benny Hinn is a televangelist/faith healer that has been in business for over 40 years. A few years before my Good Fellas experience in Ohio, I had seen an expose’ on Benny Hinn, and as far as I could tell he was nothing more than a con-man. In fact, Hinn was reportedly the inspiration for Steve Martin’s character in the movie Leap of Faith. Anyway, that was all I needed to hear. I wanted nothing to do with a church that idolized the likes of “Pastor Hinn.” I was outta there.
The following week, I decided to try a slightly smaller church that was closer to home. This one had a steeple with a cross, so it felt a little more traditional. When I walked in, one of the members noticed that I was new and welcomed me. We talked for a bit and I went in to find a seat. It seemed nice. As the service started, I was surprised to see the minister was a woman, that was something new, but hey it was the 90s and I had come this far, so why not? She appeared to be in her 50s and was much more conservatively dressed than the gangster across town, so things were looking up. They didn’t have a rock bank like the department store church, and her sermon had a fairly traditional tone. I was starting to think this could be the place. Then, just as I was getting comfortable, it dropped. We were rounding the turn and heading for home when she starts talking about Pastor Hinn. What?! You’ve got to be kidding! Benny Hinn! Is everyone in Ohio obsessed with this shyster? I couldn’t believe it. That was it. I was not cut out to be a bible thumper.
