“Cool, cool,” says Driscoll, jumping in, wanting some control over the conversation. “Well Josh, do we know you at all?” Piper continues. Piper, ever the courteous pastor, strikes up a conversation. “Mind if I sit down?”ĭriscoll scoots in reflexively, giving the stranger a wide berth. “Good to see you all.” He stands next to Driscoll. The stranger walks purposefully into the room and angles directly toward the table. “God, he looks like a cross between Russell Brand and Richard Simmons,” Phillips gasps. “I think so,” says Piper, turning around so he can see.Įldredge admires the guy’s hair and sandals, but dislikes that he’s wearing a peace patch on his sleeve. That he even has to ask makes him feel uncomfortable, and a little bit angry. The stranger looks like a hippie-long hair, hemp jacket, and wearing what can only be described as an Arabian dishdasha. “I’m senior and I accept responsibility.”īefore the other two can offer, the door opens and a stranger walks in. The unspoken understanding is that the winner gets the title of best model of biblical manhood. ![]() ![]() A real man pays for his guests, they tacitly agree, but how will it work when four of the manliest men in Christendom are sitting at the same table? Who pays then?Ī quiet but epic struggle ensues over who will get the check. The biggest question seems to be who will pick up the tab. ![]() Maybe they aren’t all that different after all. They’ve read each other’s books, have sometimes poked fun at each other in sermons, but here in the booth there’s a natural solidarity. The bartender leaves and the men look curiously at each other.
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