The Bartender says, "Whatul ya have, stranger?"
The Western Christian says, "Well, I think I've been overanalyzing myself and my faith, leading to a sort of spiritual rigor mortis. I think I'll have a koan. Straight up."
So the Bartender says, "A Western Christian walks into an Eastern Christian Bar..."
The Western Christian, stunned with enlightenment, staggers out into the street, where he is blinded by a bright light, and hears a loud voice, saying, "Freeze, Yankee Interloper!" when he is struck by a maniacally driven emu taxi  and killed. He dies and goes to the Pearly Gates.
Just ahead of him in line, St. Peter admits Nikita Kruchev, Atilla the Hun, the Pope, a lawyer, and a strawberry roan. When the Western Christian gets to the head of the line, St. Peter explains that he has to ask a question to determine if the applicant gets in, and how big his mansion is, and whether or not he has to watch Jimmy Swaggart on the Heavenly Channel  and so forth.
"Two trains were approaching each other 100 miles apart at a combined speed of 97 MPH. If Carasso lost 7 accounts that week for spamming the net, and O. J. Simpson was convicted of listening to Amy Grant without worrying about whether she had sold her soul for secular popularity, how many choking Dobermans does it take to change a MicroSoft brand Light Bulb (TM)?"
After thinking a moment, the man shrugs his shoulders and says, "I'm afrayed knot."
St. Peter is enlightened, and wanders off to find the latest CD from Daniel Amos. The lawyers bow to the Western Christian, chanting "we're not worthy!", causing him to rend his clothes, starting an eternal flame war on usenet about whether a Christian can expose his chest for the purpose of expressing humility - even if he's dead - without losing his salvation and dying like the plants and animals in all the old Larry Norman rock record experiments.
 complete with 10 gallon hat and 2 (two)
six (6) shooters
 obviously this isn't in an area run by Southern Baptists or Pentcostals
 Juuuust kidding! Obviously, that would be Hell.
 Aren't they all?
Copyright 1995 Miles O'Neal, Austin, TX. All rights reserved. Miles O'Neal <roadkills.r.us@XYZZY.gmail.com> [remove the "XYZZY." to make things work!] c/o RNN / 1705 Oak Forest Dr / Round Rock, TX / 78681-1514