When they thought they had enough information to justify violence
against me, they finally said that I was under arrest, and wanted me to
put my hands behind my back. I told them, “You get paid to do evil, I’m
not going to help you.” These two men were stunned for a couple moments.
They asked me again, to place my hands so that they could more easily
put handcuffs on them. I said “No,” and told them that I had not done
anything wrong, and that I wasn’t going to help them do evil. I just
stood there.
They grabbed my arms and placed handcuffs on me. I said to Lopez, “You
said you weren’t going to do this.” Lopez began patting my body with his
hands, asking if I had a weapon. I said, “Yes, I do, I have the Word of
God.” He asked again, and I gave him the same answer.

They wanted me to walk into their car, but I just stood there,
explaining that, in Christ’s Kingdom we treat others like we would like
to be treated, and that I wouldn’t be helping them with their evil
deeds. They soon grabbed under my arms and pushed me into their vehicle.

Lopez read to me what is known as a Miranda Warning, saying that I now
had the right to remain silent, and other state benefits. I told Lopez
that I had rights far above any of those. Lopez asked if I understood
those rights. I stated that I don’t accept any rights or protections
offered by his State. Lopez verbally pressed the point about reaching an
understanding, but I firmly told him that we have no agreement.
It was almost time to go to jail, so I thought. Ditto asked me if I
would give him permission to drive my car to our destination. I was
inclined to refuse, but the Holy Spirit, again prompted me to be quite
receptive to that idea. Besides, towing companies are often more
extortion prone than State bureaucrats. I told Ditto that he had my
permission to drive the car so that it wouldn’t be a hazard or an
obstruction on the highway, but to bring the keys back. And, he said
that he would. I knew that Ditto would figure that he was now free to
search and seize property items that might seem incriminating against
me, even though there was no cause to do so. But, what might they find?
A copy of New Jerusalem Times in the glove box, arc welding gear in the
trunk, a signed-over Certificate of Title to the car, some personnel
items, correspondence, etc.

Ditto drove off in my car. Lopez drove the squad car, with me handcuffed
in the front passenger seat. That drive lasted approximately 30 minutes,
during which time Lopez and I had a pretty good dialogue about the
nature and presence of the Kingdom of Jesus Christ. I also asked Lopez,
“If your supervisors ordered you to participate in another incident
similar to the one at Waco, Texas, would you do it, or would you quit
your job, and most likely sacrifice your career?” There was silence in
the car.
I further asked, “Would you provoke people enough, so that they might
shoot at you, in order for you to justify the use of military tanks to
annihilate them?”

We arrived at a small building with several offices inside. Some more
men came out to meet me, most of them were not wearing uniforms. I would
not help them by walking, and I was threatened with jail, but was
brought inside anyway. But this place was not a jail, there was not even
a holding cell. I believe this was a Hartley County Sheriff building,
which also housed small offices for Texas State Troopers (DPS). These
two agencies seemed to work together a lot. I believe one of the men was
their County Sheriff. Sheriffs are deemed to be the highest law
enforcement official of a County, which is a political subdivision of
the State, and is therefore one of the modern princes of those hostile
principalities and powers. (Eph. 6:12)

Upon entering, I loudly announced to all the staff and support personnel
that I forgave them for their trespass against me. Jesus told us, that
if we forgave others who trespass against us, that our heavenly Father
would forgive us. So, I gave it to them right up-front, while they were
in their very act of trespass. (Mat. 6:14)
I was placed in a seat. I asked if this was their interrogation room.
Lopez, Ditto, and two other Troopers were milling about this area. One
of the Troopers said that I was one of those people who didn’t pay
taxes. I told them that we pay for whatever we use, and that the Body of
Christ is not made up of thieves. (We owe them nothing, because we take
nothing from them, and we don’t reside in their political fictions.
We’re not their slaves, we belong to another.)

On several occasions I was asked for a date of birth, a social security
number, or a state-registered name. I told them that a date of baptism
marks a spiritual birth. Lopez was holding my ID, and said, “Your date
of baptism is September, 22. Tomorrow is your birthday. You’ll be four
years old. You’re just a baby!”
“You’re right, I’m just a baby!” I told him. I shared with them that,
“When we are born-again, we become new creatures in Christ Jesus, and
old things pass away.” (II Cor. 5:17)
“New creatures?”one of them said, with a puzzled look on his face.
That period lasted for nearly two hours, and I felt comfortable talking
to all of them. During that time, the Sheriff, and possibly others, were
calling various agencies from the State of Kansas, Oregon, Arizona, and
their federal District of Columbia, trying to figure-out if I was a
criminal. They wanted me to sign a receipt for the few items of property
that they had already taken, which I refused to do.

Lopez was holding some of my personal letters, trying to find a place to
put, what looked like three charging instruments (traffic tickets), when
I said, “You swore an oath to help people to be secure in their property
and their effects, I didn’t authorize you to go into my car a take those
letters.”
“Oh, yeh,... unreasonable search and seizure,” he said.
At one point, Lopez had a lot of insight when he held up my church-style
identification, and said, “You really don’t need these, do you?”
I said, “That’s right, they’re just paper! But, they do bear witness to
the reality that is right in front of you.”

We talked about mandatory state vehicle insurance. I told them that
Tennessee residents are not required to contract with state-approved
insurance companies, and how they’re not criminals when they travel.
Also that, car insurance neither prevents accidents, nor saves lives.
And how, during the 1970’s, the insurance industry and the U.S. federal
government lobbied to cause most states to compel their residents to
contract with third parties (insurance companies).
“That was twenty years ago,” responded one of the Troopers.
I told him that was the tendency of his State, “Yesterday you were free
to travel, and killing unborn babies was prohibited; today you are
forced to pay when traveling, and your right to kill unborn babies is
protected by the State.” (Even when statists try to do good, it comes
out bad. It’s a law. The Bible calls it, “the law of Sin and Death.”
Rom. 8:2 We who live by the law of the Spirit of life in Christ are
immune.)

Further, I said to them, “You swore an oath to uphold a document that
specifically mentions something called, the Common Law. Within that rule
of Law is a criteria for determining if a crime has been committed: If
there is no victim, or no property damage, there is no crime!” I said,
“I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Common Law doesn’t exist anymore,” one of them said.
“So, why did you sware an oath to uphold it?” I asked him. But, there
was no answer.
Church Denominations became a topic, and I let them know that 99.9% of
them were state-corporations that also apply for permission to become a
non-profit, 501(c) (3) organization under the control of the IRS.
One of the Troopers somberly said, “That’s true.”
“Jesus is not Lord of those organizations,” I said, “the State is!”
I asked these Troopers not to become upset when I told them that their
job was one of a mindless robot for the State. Like the Nazis, who at
the Nuremburg Trials, said they were “just following orders.” Or, like
the Roman soldiers, who were state employees too, as they took Jesus and
crucified Him.
Lopez quickly spoke up, “You can’t compare yourself to Jesus.”
“His same Life is inside me, and I haven’t done anything wrong either.”
I said.

The Sheriff came into the room and asked me to come with him, so he
could see about releasing me. I wasn’t surprised by what followed, but
did walk to the desk of a woman who held a fictional state office,
Justice of the Peace. The woman said that she had three charges against
me: Driving on the Shoulder of the Road, Failure to Identify Myself, and
No Vehicle Insurance. I asked her if she was the Complainant?
She said, “No, they are,” as she pointed behind me at Lopez and Ditto.
“Those men couldn’t possibly be the Complainant,” I said, “they are the
ones who stopped me, and have deprived me of my liberty and property.”
She threatened me with more charges if I didn’t tell her my name. I
looked her right in the eye, and said, “Christian Livingstone is the
only name I have, and the only one I use.” She said, that if I plead
guilty to each charge, and paid $250 on each count, that they would let
me go.

I still had my wallet, which contained nearly $2000 in cash, as I told
her, “I have no need to make any pleadings in this matter, but, I am
willing to settle for damages; just restore me to the condition that you
found me, and in that way both parties will be best served,”
She just shook her head and said, “No.”
Soon afterwards, as were dragging me into a State vehicle, I loudly
announced, “With your own hands, this is the inheritance that you are
giving your children, should they ever become Christians.”
It seemed fitting to be quiet during the transporting time, and I think
that’s what the Holy Spirit wanted too, so I was quiet for the whole 45
minute drive.

Apparently, Hartley County Jail was full, and I was driven to a city
named Dumas, to Moore County Jail. They dragged me into a reception area
and began taking things out of my pockets, removing my boots and a belt.
The jail guards were a bit apprehensive, and wanted to known if I would
be combative toward them. I assured them that I would not try to strike
out at them or harm them in any way, but that I wouldn’t help them in
their wickedness. I told them I wouldn’t treat them like they were
treating me, i.e. the antithesis of the Golden Rule. They wanted me to
volunteer my fingerprints and wear jail clothes in order to go into
General Population of the jail, and to be able to make a phone call. I
told them that I had not done anything wrong, and I refused to cooperate
with them. So they forced me into an empty holding cell, as is.
The Moore County Jail staff were also very needy for information about
me. They would often open the cell door to ask questions. I was asked
if I wanted to visit with a state-incorporated Pastor of theirs. I said,
“No thank you, but please say to him, ‘Peace be with you’.” They would
place trays of food on the concrete bench inside the cell, even though I
mentioned to them that I was currently on a spiritual fast. They wanted
me to sign a receipt for the things they had taken from me, but I
refused.

An attractive female guard, named Mary, told me that they knew that I
wasn’t a drug dealer. She would sometimes open the cell door and share
information about herself, in an effort to elicit information from me.
She told me that she was 30, and how that she was now married for the
third time, since her previous husbands had abused her. She suggested
that I was being cruel to my wife (if I ever had one) and any children
(if I had any) by not giving the jail staff more information, so that I
could be released. I told Mary, that if I had a wife and children who
were counting on my presence to help provide them security and
well-being, that it was she who was being cruel by depriving them of my
presence.
“Step out of the doorway and I’ll walk right out of here,” I told her.
“No, then I’d go to jail, too” She said.
“That’s the position you’ve put yourself in,” I told her.

Mary insisted that I could do more good for others if I weren’t in jail.
I asked here if she knew why early Christians were willing to be thrown
to the lions in Roman State arenas, or why Roman soldiers took Jesus and
crucified Him? She said that I shouldn’t compare myself to Jesus.
I told her that I guessed that it was a matter of degrees, and I said to
her, sincerely, “Jesus had the Roman centurions, and I have you.”
Mary said, “I think you’re just talking in circles,” and then she left.
The lights were left on throughout the night. The sink in the cell
enabled me to stay well-hydrated as my fast was underway. I asked them
for nothing: no phone call, no blanket, no mattress, and I didn’t ask
them to turn off the cold air. Although, the next morning some
thoughtful jail staff brought a plastic mattress and pillow into the
bare jail cell.

Then I was informed that it was time to leave; that I was being
released. I stepped out of the jail cell and up to a desk where they
were sorting through several items of mine. They wanted my signature on
a form that indicated that they were returning my property to me. I
looked at it briefly, it was an Inmate Property form, and there was a
place for citizenship, which was marked, “American (U.S.A.).” I refused
to sign it.

There were two of the Hartley County Sheriff people standing nearby. I
said, to the Moore County Jail guard, “I don’t understand, to where or
to whom am I being released.”
“To them,” he said, as he gave me my boots and belt back, and gave the
remainder of my property to the two men.
These men said they were willing to handcuff me with my arms in front,
but I told them that I still wouldn’t help them do evil. So they moved
my arms upward and placed the handcuffs on. Again, I was quiet during
this whole transporting period. The Holy Spirit had impressed it upon me
the night before, that this encounter, with these principalities and
powers, would somehow have a good outcome. But, it did occur to me that
Moore County personnel may have wanted me out of their jail, and that
Hartley County personnel might be making space for me at their jail.
We arrived at that same Hartley County Sheriff Building, the one from
yesterday. I sat at the same desk I was at the day before, but there
were no State Troopers present. I could hear the Sheriff speaking on the
telephone from the next room. He was talking to someone from a District
Attorney office. I could easily hear what the context of the
conversation was; they were negotiating over how to release me. That DA
must have asked the Sheriff about the No Insurance charge, because the
Sheriff said, “He says that’s not a crime!”

A little while later, the three men asked me to submit to
fingerprinting, (probably at the insistence of their DA) and I clearly
refused them. In spite of my verbal statements and my seated position on
the ground, these men physically carried and forced a poor set of
fingerprints from my hands. Interestingly, one of these men held a
special handcuff key to my knuckles. It was a miniature representation
of a PR-24 baton, which was the same size as a screwdriver, for prying
each finger. However, the men managed to use their hands to force each
of my fingers to the card. I didn’t resist with every bit of my
strength, but made verbal statements as well. When it was over, one of
the men held the card and asked if the prints were clear enough. The
other one said, “OK.” (Police are largely immune from liability for the
violence they perpetrate in obtaining fingerprints. Sometimes they even
resort to genital torture, against those who’ve committed no crime,
regardless of whether or not there has been a so-called trial. Like the
dinosaurs before them, as a species, police and thieves are both moving
toward their own extinction.)

Then these men said they needed something else. I suspected what it was.
One of them picked up a Polaroid-style camera, and I loudly said, “I do
not authorize you to take my photographic image,” and kept my posture
from enabling a picture to be taken.
“OK, we don’t have to,” they said, as they put the camera away. They
already had photocopies of my identification from the day before.
Some more time passed as I was relaxing while reading a newspaper at
that same desk, only now with no handcuffs. Each few minutes one of
these men would peek into the room where I was sitting. I could hear
that same Justice of the Peace woman from yesterday, say, “I’m not going
to cut a check for that money!”

Then the three men came in and said that they were going to release me.
The Sheriff said that my car was right outside the door. They started
giving me all of the items that had been in my pockets, and handed me an
envelope with all of the cash, saying, “Here’s your money, you can count
it.” And I noticed later, that the charging instruments (traffic
tickets) had been removed. It looked like a clean deal at this point. I
was very quiet during these moments.

The Sheriff asked for my signature to acknowledge the return of my
property. I was inclined to refuse, as per usual. But, the Holy Spirit
prompted me to be a bit more receptive. So, I looked at the papers on
the desk, as the three men watched over my shoulder. One form outlined
the property items taken initially at the time of arrest, by Lopez.
Another one was like the one from the Moore County Jail, except that
there was new and different information on it.

In the Address section, it said, “HEAVEN,” and in the Citizenship
section, it said, “HEAVEN.” My spirit leaped inside of me, I knew
something had changed. As the men were still looking over my shoulder, I
picked up a pen and added an “e” where my last name had been misspelled
by Lopez. On the other paper, at the Inmate Property heading, I
lined-out “Inmate” and wrote above it “Prisoner.” And then I signed them
both. Just then, the Sheriff said to his men, “See!” And they seemed a
little relieved or surprised.
These men walked me out the door. And there was my car. I stepped up to
the driver side door. The Sheriff began giving me directions to the main
routes for me to continue on my way. As I stood there, I said to them
all, “Peace be with you.” And they nodded affirmatively as I got into
the car and drove away.

I was praising God through our Lord Jesus as I drove on. I had just
witnessed a miracle: an act of repentance by a principality and power of
the World System. (Eph. 6:12, Col. 2: 14 & 15) I don’t know what all the
motivating factors were for their reversal, but I do know that it didn’t
take them very long, which is to their credit. Maybe this was all just
for me, but I trust that, if the Holy Spirit wanted some of them to hear
something, they heard it! NJT

Christian Livingstone

Christian Livingstone