Cow Tipping and the Theology of Glory

well its been another year, another Calvary Chapel Youth Retreat. this time bigger and more mindless than ever. this time there were four or five other churches besides the one here that hosts it, so there were more people, out of which a grand total of one was any fun at all.
i arrived in the evening, having been graciously spared the first "teaching" and set up in a tent on the huge hill above the barn that served as a church. soon i had Mah Posse around and was up to no good. it began with a bonfire, then lighter tricks, finally some romping and then we were exiled to bed.
or so they thought.
'round about 1 am the four guys in my tent got together with three other girls from the other side of the field and went to the graveyard and a hay field a ways away. we sat and talked for a couple minutes then went around what there was of town. we considered cow tipping but thought better of it for that night, instead deciding on the next night for that particular endeavor. for a couple hours we built and maintained a fire and just messed around, and after that is kind of a haze, but i think it had something to do with chickens.
the next day was interesting. it started off with breakfast which was great, some one's mother cooked 200 breakfast burritos and we ate them happily. then there was a worship session in which we basically declared that Jesus was really pretty and shiny. then there was an entirely unremarkable sermon. we all slept so i can't really rant about that one.
at some point i got wet, but i don't exactly remember when. then there was THE sermon. a pastor got up and took the mic, and after telling us how he was once addicted to cocaine and meth and beer and had five kids out of wedlock before his tenth birthday he went on a very interesting rant. i do not quote him exactly, but here's something of the idea:
"...and now i see all you pure and innocent youth and it reminds me that we must be more judgemental. i know SOME" (enter menacing glare around the room) "people who claim to be Christians who SMOKE THE POT! i know some people who say they are Christians but they DRINK! or have SEX!" at this point the whole room covered their ears before they heard anymore no-no words "and all of you who don't have a quiet time, SHAME ON YOU!"
i turn to my friends on both sides and audibly say "I don't have a quiet time every day, in fact i hardly ever have a 'quiet time' so am i not a Christian?"
the pastor ignores me. "so if you see anyone who isn't being a saint, even though there is no such thing as a saint, judge him and question his faith until he does better. thank you."
having come with a copy of Bondage of the Will in hand (because i knew from past experience that i WOULD need some good theology to read) i walked up to the guy afterward and began talking.
"what did you mean by that? you just shamed me and most of my friends. I don't take well to being shamed and i really don't take kindly to people shaming my friends. so i'll give you a chance to explain yourself."
the guy was baffled. what? someone questioning his pontifications? how could this be?
"well, I, uh, you see in life..." *fog, fog, haze, haze*
"and how about all that about people who drink and smoke pot? i meet with a book club of Christians who drink and i know some very strong Christians who smoke pot. are you saying they're going to Hell?"
"...well no..."
"that's what you said, isn't it?"
there followed a short discussing that i will not relay, but i slipped in justification (oh, no, a big word!)and a few other fun phrases, including salvation by grace through faith, a little bit about baptism, and many other verbal whoppings of his butt. think of two boxers in a ring. one is me. the other is him. i was throwing punches, he had no arms. that's a suitable metaphor for that discussion. soon he woosied out and ran away, assuredly to cry in the senior pastor's skirts.
that night there was another bonfire, and we all went to sleep, as we were all far too tired to cow-tip. the next morning was cold, and mid-morning my friends' headbangin' Christian band played and i moshed and screamed, which was all very fun. I went back home about one, after which i went to the very first Madison Celt Fest (some of the three of you who read this know about that) which was all very nice.
the end.