By Erin Sherbert
By Howard Cole
By Erin Sherbert
By Erin Sherbert
By Leif Haven
By Erin Sherbert
By Chris Roberts
By Kate Conger
"We like to keep that in mind so that it's a story; not a lie, but a story," she adds.
I nod my head: "Yeah, no lying."
Besides Christian metal musicians, Miracles Today has hosted such guests as a guy who works as a tree trimmer and who was woken up by a voice from God that told him not to stand in a certain spot. Lo and behold, the next day a tree fell right in the very goddamn spot!!! Holy fuck!
Another guest went on a mission to India and was praying over a little deaf/mute girl. The little girl started moving to the music and then uttered the word "Jesus"! Holy, holy fuck!
Both Destiny and I look at each other and exclaim, as if a dove had just been produced from nowhere, "Oh, wow, that's amazing!"
"Can Destiny sit next to me while I'm being interviewed?" I ask, noting that she (along with Jesus, of course) is my pillar of strength.
My pillar-of-strength, second-only-to-Jesus is vetoed. "Destiny, you can watch on the monitor," snips the host. Wow, what a Christian bitch!
"So we'll get you in, we'll hook up the mikes, and we'll pray. Then we'll get rolling!"
Two chairs sit next to each other in a small studio, surrounded by three TV cameras and an assortment of elderly crew members.
"Have you had any other Christian bands on the show?" I ask one of the three elderly cameramen.
"We had a band on last show."
"Oh, really, what band?" I inquire.
He thinks for a moment. "They were singing Christian songs in Spanish," he says.
The third-grade schoolteacher/host situates herself in a chair closely next to me.
"Shall we pray?" she asks as the crew continues to set up.
"Hell, yes," I say. Then I quickly correct myself, excluding the word "hell."
Our heads are bowed, our hands clasped in prayerlike manner as the third-grade schoolteacher asks Jesus for guidance for Chad's sharing of his tale of transformation.
"Please help us to guide our minds, oh Lord ...."
The praying goes on a little longer than I feel comfortable with. And then: "Amen!"
"Amen!" I confirm. This time without profanity.
Praying done, IT'S SHOWTIME!
"Quiet on the set," barks the floor manager.
We both sit staring with blank expressions as the opening credits roll. The combination of the bright lights and my hangover makes me feel like I might pass out. Or is this a test from Jesus?!
Then the host is talking into the camera: "I'm here with Chad, who has a very interesting story to share with you today. Hi, Chad, how are you?"
"I'm doing good, really good!"
"So Chad, tell us what you do."
"I play in a Christian speed-metal band." ("Prayer?" "No, it's Pray-er!") I then add the obvious: "You know, you can be Christian and still crank out some butt-kicking metal!"
"Yeah!" the host says, with a confirming nod of her Christian head; I resist the urge to make the sign of the horns.
"But metal with a positive message!" I clarify, mentioning Pray-er's upcoming CD. "It's called Faster for the Master!"
The host makes a happy face.
"Why don't you tell us how it all got started. What was your life like before?"
I throw out a little heavy metal, meathead philosophy. "When I was little, I didn't go to church. Metal was my religion!" I explain, throwing my fist in the air. "Metal concerts were my church -- except, unlike the other church, I'd drink a 12-pack before attending services!"
As the cameras roll, I share my decadent metal days in my former, non-Christian speed-metal band Skull Fuck! "I gave into all of the devil's temptations. Satan was whispering in my ear." I tell about the exact moment (shortly after doing coke off of a groupie's ass) when the Almighty turned my life around.
"I was in a motel in Bakersfield. I've been up for a few days on crank. When suddenly I felt this tap on my shoulder. I turn around, and this voice said, 'Dude --'"
The third-grade schoolteacher/host interrupts me: "Wait, the Lord called you 'dude'?!"
"Yeah. He called me 'dude,'" I continue. "He said to me, 'Dude, if you keep this up, you're going to end in one of the Three D's: Death, Drug Overdose, or Disease!'" I say, explaining that "disease" refers to a sexually transmitted malady.
The host makes a sympathetic face. "What happened next?"
"I got rid of my guitar and burned all my metal albums."
"Except Guns N' Roses' Appetite for Destruction, because the guitar on that really ROCKS!"
The host's smile somehow expresses that Slash's guitarwork even transcends Christian values. Next I blow my own metal horn. "Then one day God came to me. He told me, 'You have a gift. Go use your gift in order to spread the word of the Lord!' So I picked up a guitar again, and that's how I started my Christian speed-metal band." ("Prayer?" "No Pray-er!")
Our Miracles Today host asks how the members of my old speed-metal band, Skull Fuck! (not in those words), reacted to my spiritual transformation.