“It’s really big. I mean, it’s like really, really big,” a prospective Princetonian exclaimed. “Like I think my high school could, like, fit into this building. What do they do with all this space?” she queried, twirling her bleached blond hair around a manicured finger. She flounced off to catch a departing Orange Key Tour.
Instead of the usual how-do-you-do, we’d like to tell a story.
There once were two bears. Both were young and happy; both led pleasant and fulfilling lives.
Or so they thought.
John Hagee has perfected this easily accessible, easily consumed version of Christianity at Cornerstone. He has pared down the commitment, time and energy one needs to devote to religion to the barest minimum. You simply show up at 8:30, 11:00 or 6:30 on Sunday and worship. For a little over an hour, you can cleanse your soul, praise the Lord and find peace. And you don’t need to strain yourself, either. The music is simple. The message is alliterative.
It was a dark and stormy night in a town that knows how to keep its secrets. The pavement was slick with forgotten promises and the air rank with dissolution and ambiguous morality.