“I love horseshoes,” said Zeke McKowski of Johnson City, Tennessee. “I always have. Guess I always will. Before Wednesday Night Prayer Meeting we play horseshoes. We’re a bunch of happy Christians who love the toss them irons. It’s about the most Christian game there is. Don’t get as many ringers as we’d like. But we love to hear them shoes clank. Mostly we hit dirt. The box ain’t always so cooperative. And we know the Devil is don’t allow no ringers when he’s around. So we keep watch.”

“Course, there’s other games Christians play. Bingo, softball, pinochle, bridge, canasta, golf and miniature golf. We don’t cheat. Keep score honestly. Don’t curse if we make a mistake or lose a game. Christians don’t stop being Christians just because they want to win the game.”

“Batmitten is a great Christian game. Always lively. The Holy Spirit is great within us. But never so much when we play batmitten. It’s a spiritual uplifting and most amusing game. And to play it at the church at night with the church spotlights beaming down on you. Well, that’s heavenly. You feel good swinging your racket, even if you miss it’s bliss.”

“We play Bible baseball at the church. If you answer a question correctly you get on base. The question is always pertaining to some knowledge gained from the Bible. Once, I knocked in Sonny Billings and won the game. Everyone in Sunday School was impressed. I was the hero. Though I admit striking out a few times, too. I was distracted by the Devil. He kept whispering in my ear and tapping me on the shoulder. Couldn’t concentrate. I was all flustered. Couldn’t keep my eye on the ball.”

“One time when we was playing softball at the church Trudy Gavins swung and popped up way out beyond second base. Too far to get to. And Harry White yelled, “Get it, Lord Jesus! Get it!” But the ball fell pitifully between the infield and the outfield. And the runner was safe. The Lord helps them who help themselves. Harry shouldn’t oughta done that. He ain’t got the sense of a hollow log.”

“I suppose the favorite game of Christians, though is hunting for atheists. Of course, it’s got to be in season and there’s a limit we got to follow. But there’s something exciting hunting them down, watching them run when they see us coming. Sometimes they jump straight up in the air when we spot them. You see them horns sticking up out of their heads. Them hoofed feet. That’s when we hear that animal grunt, growl snort we know we got ourselves a bone fide atheist.You hear that tiny shrill cry like they didn’t mean to say they don’t believe in the Lord.”

“Makes it all worth while. Ain’t nothing better than the thrill of the atheist hunt. Bagged me five of them last summer. Got my picture in The Evangelical Spectator. That’s me on the right smiling, both arms around them sneering two atheist who didn’t like it none. Just call me Davy Crockett.”

from http://evangelicalspectator.typepad.com/the_evangelical_spectator/2006/07/games_christian.html