We’ll never know why David Stinnett brought his cap gun to church in 4th grade. Our angelic boys choir fidgeted and played pencil games on the front row. I was sitting next to David. He was playing with a cap gun. We told him to stop.
The sudden “pop” shattered the silence and filled the sanctuary. A small tuft of smoke floated ominously above David’s head. My mom thought I did it. David sat death-like, immovable. We all did. Rev. Crandall shot us a glance. I heard some gasps. After a brief fear-filled pause that seemed to last an hour, he spoke. His words haunt me still. “Let that be a lesson to you,” he admonished with clenched jaw.
This post is free of spiritual wisdom, Biblical principles or God’s Truth. If there’s a lesson to be learned here it’s probably: don’t let your kids or grandchildren take a cap gun to church. Back then it was a stupid prank. Today it might be considered a terrorist act. Either way, cap guns don’t belong in church.