Introduction

Could this be the God of The Church of No Preference?

Decades ago (around two of those), in a barracks (far, far away) began a religion based on a category embedded on dog tags. The category was "religion," the answer "no preference."

As several members of my unit compared dog tags one day, we found that nearly all of us that were good friends had the same words for the category "religion." This seemed to be profound and amusing and so the Church of No Preference was founded immediately. The festivities began at once with numerous toasts with German beer and hits of hash.

As the party wore on, deep meaningful questions arose. Could this ragtag group really develop a church? What is religion? What should we pray for? Who should we pray to? Should we pray at all?

Delaying those questions, we chose to elect a leader who we hoped would be able to answer those questions. Somehow I won (possibly because I had purchased the beer) and was christened Principle Prophet for the Church of No Preference.

I was stunned...and drugged. How, I wondered could I live up to such an important position. I was worried that in the morning after, whether my hangover would cause me to abdicate my newly sworn position. In the stark light of the next day, would I swear off partying (for about the umteenth time) and as well swear off this new religion? But that would be tomorrows problem, for tonight we had to create a church.

We set to establishing some rules. We needed some commandments. Thou shalt party. Thou shalt rock and roll. Thou shalt not disco. We had trouble getting to ten.

We considered the concept of "no preference." What does that REALLY mean? Who could join our church? We ruled (and I toasted) that a person must resign from all other religions with a real name, like Protestant, Catholic, Sunni, Mormon, Sufi, Rastafarian (although we liked the Rasta, man), Confucian, Boodda (you know, the fat guy sitting crosslegged), Hindu, etc. in order to truly be no preferenced. In order to join our sect, one must be sectless.

Getting into deeper questions, we came to some inconclusive conclusions. Who or what would be our God? Trees or a Supreme Being or a fat guy or science or what? Well, all of them or none of them or some of them or a God to be named later was all that we could decide, no preference you see.

As we turned up the volumn on the stereo that was playing Pink Floyd's "The Wall," we knew we were on to something big. This church had promise, at least WE promised. As "Comfortably Numb" descended into our ears with ringing blasts of sound, all we could do was reflect on life, God, the universe, and the ten mile march that was scheduled the next day. We passed out later to dreams of allegance to our new religion.

The next day in my morning stupor, I made a promise to uphold the ideals of this new religion forever and maybe stop partying some other time. It seemed that being named Principle Prophet had ramifications beyond my comprehension. I was branded with a nickname for weeks, an abreviation of my title, PP or pee pee. My fellow congregates would come up to me out of nowhere and say things like "Oh Great Pee Pee, can I have another beer?" Or "Hey Pee Pee, grant me a discharge."

You wouldn't want to hear my answers to those questions as they tended not to reflect a religous attitude. It was becoming clear that our church was losing its bearings. As Principle Prophet I called for another party, a revival. At the revival I chastened the members about their lack of respect for no preference and as well begged for a new title. I was given a reprieve as it was decided that the leader position would be rotated among the devotees. Democracy! The Church of No Preference had developed a decision making process. "Finally!" I thought. Yet, I also wondered "Did I just get coup de tated?"

In the following weeks at repeated rivivals, nothing really exciting happened (at least as far as church matters went) except that it was decided that the leader's title would be changed to reflect the person's image. We had various nicknames such as Pope Poop (another pee pee), The Drinkin' Deacon, and others that I'll probably never remember.

Our membership rose and fell as people transferred in and out of our unit. No one ever quit our sect because we had no preference whether they were "official" members or not. We didn't have any documents to fill out anyway. To join a person simply pledged allegance to no preference. Finally it was my turn to joyfully leave as I was discharging from the Army. I returned to the United States and began to put those memories aside.

On occasion when answering questions on forms, I have run into the inquiry "religion?" And would answer "no preference." This would always make me wonder about the old church. In the subsequent years I've never given up hope for The Church of No Preference to grow to rival the major religions. There must be millions of people answering forms with "no preference."

As founding leader of the Church of No Preference, as Principle Prophet (pee pee for short), it's time to reinvigorate the sectless sect. It's time for a mass revival. It's time to use a tool to spread the word of no preference. The Internet is the perfect worship site. The Internet has the ability to bring together No Preferentists from all over the world. No Preferentists of the world, UNITE! This is the beginning....

Reprinted from 2000.

Coming soon...The Pledge of Allegance to The Church of No Preference.