When I think about God, I imagine the deity channeled by Jesus: love thy neighbor, vengence is mine, turn the other cheek, that sort of thing. So I'm always amused when I see the bumper sticker that reads "God Bless John Wayne." After all, Wayne was the avatar of frontier justice, a loud, violent, unforgiving man quick to beat up or even kill those he self-righteously identified as bad guys – pretty much the opposite of the understanding and forgiving Lamb of God. Sanctifying The Duke didn't seem quite right to me. I figured he'd look pretty silly, six-shooter at the hip and rifle over his shoulder, immortalized in a church with the other icons of saintly virtue.

Silly me. There is the Archangel Michael menacingly wielding the sword of God's vengence. Saint Sebastion, looking like the victem of an Indian attack, is tied to a stake and shot through with arrows. Black-robed inquisitors lurk in shadowy alcoves. And of course the centerpiece of every church is the crucified Christ, brutally nailed to the cross, blood dripping from numerous wounds.

The Duke fit right in, God bless him.