Retail Nation

To read the answers, just highlight the space between the brackets

Where can you buy...

modern gadgets for navigating Himalayan high-roads?
[The Sherpa Image]

trendy furniture AND Powerball tickets
[Lottery Barn]

accessories for fire stations?
[Brass Pole Shops]

a narrow assortment of tribal weaponry?
[Spear One]

lunch at the home of the throwed hamburgers?
[Burger Fling]

a wide variety of Walmart-type items, except with higher prices?
[Charget]

hippie fruit drinks at America's favorite neighbor?
[Snapplebee's]

Muslim women's fashion at a defunct electronics store?
[Burka City]

business supplies with several no-mercy financing options?
[Office Repo]

trendy clothing that always has a piece missing?
[THE G_P]

urine-proof home accessories?
[Bed, Bath and Peeon]

apparel for numerous parts of your body?
[Just for Feet, Heads, Arms, Legs and Torsos]



+

The Office: Beauty is in the Eye of the Boss

NBC's The Office
"Business School"
Episode 3017 | Season 3 | 02/15/2007

Abridged Synopsis: Roy stops by Pam's desk to let her know how excited he is to see her art show. She reminds him that it's just a small show being put on by her art class. Pam later admits she's very happy to be back together with Roy because it shows maturity. Jim feigns indifference to the reconciliation.

Ryan discovers that he can get bumped a whole letter grade if he brings his boss in to speak to the class. Michael makes a fool of himself in front of Ryan's class by taking a student's textbook and ripping the pages out to make a point, a la Dead Poet's Society. Michael further humiliates himself in front of Ryan's peers by tossing candy bars at them during his speech.

Michael is then shocked to hear from one of the students that Ryan was harshly criticizing Dunder-Mifflin just minutes before he arrived. Michael tries his hardest to defend the company, then derides Ryan's failure at sales, before ending his speech by telling the class that Ryan didn't know anything, and neither did they!

Pam is excited to show off her artwork at the show, but a little disappointed when nobody seems to care. That changes when Roy showed up and brings his brother, Kenny. However, Roy unwittingly rubs salt in Pam's wounds when he brings up the fact that nobody from work bothered to show up. Later, Oscar and his boyfriend to stop by to discuss Pam's art, not noticing that she is standing behind them. Oscar does his best to say encouraging things, but his boyfriend is hopelessly critical.

After moving Ryan's desk to the annex to work next to Kelly, Michael goes to Pam's art show. She is already fragile after overhearing Oscar's boyfriend criticize her artwork, But Michael had nothing but praise for Pam's work. He is so impressed, particularly with her painting of Dunder-Mifflin's building, that he buys it to display at the office.

__________________

This is another one of those beautiful little Office episodes that could easily slip by as a touching, Michael-gets-it-right-for-a-change scenario. But once again, there is a very deep social message here that I'm sure is often missed.

Oscar's boyfriend, Gil, represents the artistic establishment. When Oscar reminds him that Pam is only a beginner, Gil compares her to Van Gogh, in his not-so-humble beginnings. According to the establishment, the artistic community if you will, greatness is always the goal. And greatness can only be achieved with impeccable skill, and unparalleled imagination and ingenuity.

This goes for music, too... and dance and drama and literature. To be accepted in the eyes of the elite, one must break the mold and constantly chart new artistic territory. Many an album has been lauded, and many a film critically acclaimed which was fresh, original, imaginative... and bad. Unentertaining, unrealistic, and unable to connect with anyone's actual emotions or experiences. Gil had unfortunately lost the ability to interact with art on a human level, and Pam's confidence suffered the blow.

She was about to give up when Michael arrived. He paid a few modest compliments and began to brighten Pam's outlook, but when he saw the painting of Dunder-Mifflin's building, he gushed. "That's my window! And my car! And there's your car! Wow..." he said slowly, "this is our buiding. You nailed it, Pam. You nailed it."

Certainly the aftertaste of Business School had not left his mouth... his favorite employee attacking his company, his loyalty, his livelihood. Michael's pride had surged as he vehemently defended Dunder-Mifflin as a personal place. A relational place that offers something the big box stores never can. And the pride that surged into shouting and name-calling in the lecture hall, surged again now in a quieter way.

"Pam..." Michael intoned with sincerity, "I am really proud of you." Michael and Pam connect in a way they never have before, and probably never will again. And both their needs are met.

For every one thing that Michael gets, there are 99 things that he misses. This is a one-percent moment, but it's a big one. Not only does he see that the value of art is in those who are moved by it, those who can connect with it, he knows the most important thing of all is simply showing up.



+

If Socrates Were to Start a Band...

Before I forget, I want to list some of the band-name ideas that have arisen from our intense-yet-meandering discussions at Socrates Cafe the last two Wednesdays. (Explanations are in parentheses.)

Evil Cheeses (Kraft Singles and their connection to Big Tobacco.)

Dr. Sudafed and the Beta Fish (two things you can't buy in large quantities without running all over town.)

and my personal favorite...

The Fugly Anglers (no idea.)




+

My Super Bowl Prediction

Who do I think is going to win the Super Bowl? Let's see... first of all, who's playing?

Oh, I remember. It's Not-the-Chiefs vs. Not-the-Chiefs.

I think it will be a tie.

The Way, the Truth and the Life of the Party

This Sunday we begin our message series called "Eight Excuses to Party".

The title might sound a bit cheeky to you... as if I had finally taken the advice of one of my fellow leaders to market our Sunday morning Worship Gathering to Saturday night partiers as "Hangover Church". (I still don't think it's that bad an idea... maybe in addition to Fruit and Pastries we could offer some sort of Advil Platter.)

As an introduction to the series, we chose the topic of "Fun" for our QAF Session last night, and it was there that I believe Gary came up with the title for this post.

In our efforts to understand the stick-in-the-mud stereotype of most religion in this country, we took turns reading verses from Billy Joel's chart-topper, "Only the Good Die Young". The key phrase being, "I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints, 'cause sinners are much more fun."

I actually know very few religious folk anymore who completely dismiss the value of fun. "Oh yes, you must enjoy yourself from time to time," some might say, "but you must do it in all propriety... with proper itinerary, boundaries, etiquette, modesty and safety precautions. This is how God intends Christians are to have 'fun'".

In other words, the thought of "cutting loose" is right out.

Dancing? Out.
Alcohol? Out.
Loud Music with a Strong Beat? Out.
Raucous Laughter? Out.
Stuffing Your Face? Out. Wait... no, that's in. If nothing else, Christians are great eaters.

But I've got to ask... are we getting these ideas from our inerrant scriptures? Are we turning to the Ultimate Guide for Life as an Ultimate Guide for a Party? I thought for sure that the mantra "Let the Good Times Roll" originated somewhere in Ecclesiastes...

The unavoidable fact is, God is hardcore about a great party. Passover is like Thanksgiving on steroids, with the feasts and the family reunions. And four cups of wine are mandatory. On Sukkot everybody builds little forts and goes camping in them. On Simchat Torah there's music and dancing in the streets. On Purim everybody dresses up in costumes and finds the most ridiculous and noisy way to retell the story of Esther. The message on Rosh Hoshana is "what happened last year, stays in last year." On Hanukkah you get to play a minature version of Roulette with all the chocolate coins riding on a single turn of the top. Not to mention the Sabbath day, where chilling out is an order, the Sabbath year, which is the same thing to a lesser degree but much longer, and the Jubilee year twice every century, where all the slaves go free, and everybody heads back to their family's land to start all over again and see what happens this time.

And then there's the weddings... Weddings that lasted for days and days, sometimes weeks. Feasting and drinking and dancing and chatting and toasting to the happy couple, who by the way, are commanded not to work until they've been married an entire year.

Jesus obviously approved of weddings like that, because his first miracle was to avert a screeching halt to a classic Jewish wedding by producing hundreds of gallons of wine. Jesus certainly did not approve of drunkenness, which is sinful, and was very socially unacceptable at that place and time, but he certainly did approve of a good party.

So many of us see Jesus either with eyes of fire, or eyes of water. He's either angry, or he's depressed. But when you look harder into the words and life of Jesus, you see a man with a sharp eye for a pun, a desire to amaze and mystify his followers, and a personal magnetism that is literally legendary.

Yes, life is serious. No, we should not be flippant about the problems of sin, suffering and heartache. Jesus certainly was not.

But God started the good times a-rollin' thousands of years ago, and Jesus picked it up and gave it a second wind. So far be it from me, a Christ-follower, to poop on this party.

Laissez les bon temps rouler!

Walking Abbi

Yesterday the weather was perfect, and my wife was sorely in need of a quiet house for a nap. So I took our perpetual puppy, a black lab mix named Abbi, out for a long walk.

Usually when I want to take her for a long walk, I'll go to Commercial Street. It's the most interesting neighborhood that I can walk to and back without developing blisters on my feet. It's kind of a weird place to walk a dog, since there is really no grass along the whole stretch of C-Street, but she gets plenty of pooping opportunities (pooportunites?) on the way there and the way back.

So it's not really for her, it's for me. I'm not terribly routine-oriented, and I like to pepper the routines I do have with some kind of variety. Commercial Street is one of those places that you can walk over and over and see something different every time. Some people would say it has a sense of place. But it certainly helps keep me sane in the mundane.

I just wanted to take a casual post here to share a few observations I've made from walking Abbi. Here goes...

The Smell of Weed

Even though Abbi is technically full-grown she still acts like a puppy in most ways. One example of this is her difficulty remaining focused on the sidewalk. We may walk by acres and acres of grass in an hour, but she will find the ONE BLADE OF GRASS that for some reason, just smells amazing. And for a 15-pound creature, she can be remarkably hard to pull away from her discovery.

No Fear

Another surprise for such a small dog is that she is freakin' fearless. I used to think she was afraid of heights, but once she got used to us that went away. I even took her across the Jefferson Avenue footbridge, and she readily hopped up the steps, although she occasionally hunkered down into an army-type crawl when she got a sense of the height.

But one thing she is never afraid of is other dogs. Once I was leaving the Front Porch with her, just as a man was walking two Akita dogs down the sidewalk. These dogs are humongous, and it was all the man could do to keep them both in check as they vigorously sniffed out Abbi. And although each of them could have swallowed her whole, she didn't recoil for a moment, but pulled toward them. It worries me a bit, frankly.

I'm certain that she views most dogs she encounters as potential friends, unless they have two characteristics: 1) they are bigger than her, and 2) they are black. It's obvious that our dog is not racist, since she is black as well. But she just doesn't trust those big black dogs, and has, on occasion barked wildly at them if they get too close. One time she lunged for the neck, and I was barely able to restrain her in time. Fortunately her teeth aren't terribly sharp, but once again, she probably needs to get a better sense of her size if she values her life.

The Puppy Jackpot

I talk a lot about building community, and stepping out of your comfort zone to meet new people. If this is the least bit difficult for you, and I would say that applies to most of us, then get a cute, friendly dog. Abbi draws a lot of attention when she's around people, even before they learn that she's full-grown. But when they discover that she is a perpetual puppy most people are astounded. Yesterday someone on the footbridge said I had hit the puppy jackpot. One guy at Missouri State proposed that she was part black lab, part hamster.

Back Alleys

One of my other ways of keeping things interesting while walking in a very familiar area is to take the back alleys. Our neighborhood was built up between 80 and 120 years ago, and at the time they firmly believed that most houses should have an alley in the back. The majority of them are gravel, but we're actually fortunate enough to live in a house with a paved alley. I've even noticed a few houses that are located on alleys, and usually have addresses ending in 1/2. When I pass those houses I always wonder what it would be like living in a tucked-away house like that.

But there's a reason why I like the alleys besides the simple aesthetic variety. I guess it's because I get to look at the part of people's houses I'm not really supposed to see. I've always been a little bit that way. The funny thing is, I'm not a gossip or a particularly nosey person when it comes to people's private lives. But I've always enjoyed exploring, and finding ways to see what's off the beaten path, what doesn't show up on Google Maps Street View.

And in a neighborhood like ours, where there are huge discrepancies between one house and the next, walking the alleys is an even greater exercise in incongruence. There's so much variety that I don't even want to give examples. The backyards I see run the gamut from impeccable landscaping with swimming pool to absolute wilderness. One moment you'll hear automatic sprinklers gently showering an English garden, and the next you'll hear monkeys and macaws screeching from somewhere deep within the uncharted morass.

Of course, all Abbi notices is the blade of grass that a squirrel peed on.



+

The Infinity T-Shirt

I'd been joking for several weeks about making a shirt like this. So I finally went ahead and did it.


I can make you one with your face on it if you want. Just e-mail me.

Update: I had a request for a shirt from a guy living outside my hometown of Springfield, MO. In case anyone reading this is also from out of town, and would like me to make them a shirt, I decided to include here the instructions for doing so.

1) Get a clean white T-Shirt that's a good fit on you.

2) Stand in front of the background you want, or in front of a blank wall if you want a customized background.

3) Have someone take a picture of you wearing it (with flash), making sure there's no significant wrinkles, folds or waves in the shirt.

4) Mail the T-Shirt to Traders Printing at 230 W. McDaniel St., Springfield, MO 65806, with a check for $15 ($20 if you want a customized background.)
-add $5 for shipping and handling if you want us to ship it to you.
-make out the check to Traders Printing
-or we can run a credit card over the phone if you'd like.

5) E-mail the photo to ryan@tradersprinting.com. Include your phone number in the e-mail.

6) I'll call you or e-mail you once I've received the shirt, the photo, and your payment. Allow 1 or 2 weeks to receive your shirt.

Update 2: This blog posts serves as a legal copyright to any apparel product featuring a photograph of oneself wearing said product, or a photograph of oneself in repeating reduction. If anyone reading this has the capability of making a similar shirt for personal use, permission is hereby granted to do so. However, any attempts to market or sell these products will be considered an infringement of copyright. Please direct all those who wish to buy a T-Shirt similar to the one depicted here to me. Thanks!

+

Theologisticianists, Unite!

Biology -- Biologist

Psychology -- Psychologist

Zoology -- Zoologist

Proctology -- Butt Doctor Proctologist

Sociology -- Sociologist

Theology --

Did you say Theologist? Maybe you were tempted to, before quickly realizing that the word is, in fact, Theologian.

Can you think of any other words that end in "-logian"? Really... I dare you to find one.

According to Greek, a "logian" and a "logist" are identical. It's just that the former is dormant, and the latter is active. When I say "active", I mean it is still being used to create new words. If you are a man, imagine you've made a decision to be the first one to truly understand women. First of all, good luck. But if you insist, then you would be undertaking the field of feminology. So what does that make you? A feminologist, of course. Certainly not a feminologian.

But all etymology and etymologians aside, I think I can see a real difference in meaning between the suffixes, even if it's a bit tacked-on. The "logists", if you'll notice, tend to all be practitioners of their respective sciences. Perhaps some of them are primarily academics, but by and large a psychologist will practice psychology, a zoologist makes sure animals are cared for, and a sociologist advises, you know... advises.

OK, so I don't know what most of the "logists" actually do, if they're not teaching or writing a book. The point is, they're practitioners, by and large.

What I'm wondering is, do we expect theologians to be practitioners as well, or is theology just for writing and teaching and teaching other people to write and teach?

Perhaps that is all theologians are good for. In that case, I would like to announce my intention to be a theologist (emphasis on the second syllable.) What I'm saying is, I don't just want to study God, I want to practice God. I want to live and breathe God, and teach other people to live and breathe God.

If you google "theologist" you'll get 81,800 results. So I obviously didn't coin the word. Although I wonder how many people coined it to mean the same thing as I did.

OK, so I'm 0 for 1 on word-coining so far. I'll just have to try harder, then...

1. Theologic - Rational thoughts or theories of the divine

2. Theologistics - The study of how God pulls off all those miracles

3. Theologisticans - Those who study Theologistics

4. Theologcabin - Where pastors go for those silly retreats

5. Theologarithms - Math so hard only God can do it

6. Theologician - An entertainer who can pull interpretations out of Scripture which were not there before

Looks like 4 and 5 are brand-new additions to the internet, and 3 is dang close. It's always nice to add a new word to the world wide web, don't you think?



+

And Don't Forget To Tip Your Waitresses...

You know I am really passionate about a topic when I never run out of metaphors or illustrations to get my point across. And here's the second one in a row in the food service category.

Last night Christina and I were having dinner with another couple at a restaurant downtown. The table we sat down at was a bit grimy, so we asked our waitress if she could clean it up. She acquiesced, but none too enthusiastically. When it was time to order, Christina and I ordered a single entree, to split, and the other couple ordered the same entree, to split. The waitress didn't seem too excited about that either, and I wondered if it was because she knew our check, and thus her tip, would be minimal.

All in all the service wasn't terrible, but it was painfully austere. Until she brought the check, that is. That's when she started joking around about who's bill was whose, and suddenly acting like she was one of those fun and friendly waitresses. I wanted to ask her who she was... because our waitress is the one without that smile on her face. But I didn't say that. I just played along, since I was more concerned about our conversation with the other couple than with our waitress' behavior.

But when Christina and I talked about it on the way home, she made me realize that our server had intentionally waited until check time to put on her happy face, so as to supplement her tip. And why not? After all, it's a lot of work being a good server. It's exhausting to be friendly and helpful all the time. And according to the primacy/recency effect, people only really remember the first thing, and the last thing, and not necessarily even the first thing if the food is good. So why not save your energy, and simply make a good last impression to boost your bottom line? Makes sense.

But, as Christina said, it also makes one feel used. It makes it painfully obvious, upon reflection, that your server is only interested in one thing: him- or herself. Even most good servers probably don't actually care about you, the customer, as a person, but at least they believe in serving you well, and doing a good job from start to finish. That way you're free to believe they care about you and like you. But when they make it so obvious that they're fishing for tips, it's hard to want to tip them at all.

But here's the payoff... this is often the impression that evangelism makes on the world. We have an agenda: to boost our numbers, to earn our badges, to seek out the prospects and expand the army of God. This is our sacred duty, and we'll do anything to accomplish it, by gum! Even pretending we like you! Whatever gets the job done...

Come on, world... just look how hard we've worked to serve you well, and all the time with a big, toothy grin on our faces. And we ask nothing in return, except a paltry tip of 10%.

And we better get it, too, or you never know... one of us might just spit in your communion cup.




+

Happy Mandatory Romance Day!

Just in case you weren't present at the Front Porch on Sunday, I'm going to share a few slides with you that I used to make fun of Valentine's Day.

If you were there, just scroll down, because this post is not entirely redundant.

Let me begin with a few images that may bring a bit of nostalgia to those of us who were required by law to give every one of our classmates a valentine on that... special day:

Although, I don't know if "swing" is really the best word for a children's card anymore.

I guess those are Nintendo Wii controllers. Shows how behind the times I am. Still... it's a little troubling that so far we have "swingers" and "players". Perhaps something a bit more grown-up:

I think this card speaks for itself.

Here's a good lead-in to what I was wanting to talk about.

I know a lot of people who celebrate Valentine's Day, a lot of people who don't, and a lot of people who avoid it with a vengeance. One thing I can definitely understand is a cynicism for the "machine"; the Valentine's Industry. It's almost as bad as Christmas, although not nearly as big. It is the taking of something beautiful and mysterious and sacred, and converting it into some easy cash. Imagine two young people who look at each other, and like cartoon characters, their eyes turn to little hearts. Naturally, as soon as an opportunistic retailer notices this, his eyes turn to little dollar signs.

That's much of why Christina and I decided not to play into the machine when we celebrate this evening. We've made reservations at a brand-new uppity restaurant that opened up on Commercial Street, which is a historic district, yet one that is struggling to come back from the brink of squalor. To open such a restaurant on such a street is a real risk... a sticking-out of one's neck, which is a concept we feel we can relate to.

Finally, apart from the commercialization of Valentine's, there is the question of arbitrariness I feel I must address.

In my opinion, all holidays are at least somewhat arbitrary. Even if they mark the historic date of a special event, it still doesn't really matter what day that event is recognized.

But when you consider human nature, it's just a fact that, unless we appoint a specific period of time to recognize something significant, we just won't do it. We get busy with things, and hopefully we will, if we're doing well, live up on a daily basis to the standards created by our special events and cultural ideals, such as Romance. But often we can let a year pass by without doing something really special to ignore our daily concerns for a moment and focus on something worthwhile.

To me, that's the reason we have holidays. We can't rely on them as the be-all-end-all of the ideals they represent, but we also shouldn't ignore them as opportunities to focus on what makes us who we are.

I sense that you are in agreement with me. So now will you ride my turtle?

West Bank Choppers (and Gougers)

Things are getting a little crazy... not a good environment for avid blogging.

I'm very busy at my new job. Things are great... in fact, a little too great. I get a bonus for each hour I spend doing graphic design work for our clients. And I have so much design work to do in the next week and a half that I'm not sure if I can finish it all. It's like the nets that were so full of fish they were breaking.

And our Sunday Worship Gatherings are packing out. A similar problem, I suppose. But the whole idea of what we're doing on Sundays at the Front Porch is to have an intimate, relational, comfortable environment for people to open up and feel like they really matter to each other. But when you start running out of chairs and start feeling tempted to set them up in rows instead of around tables, the very success of the effort can be its own demise.

Last Sunday I talked about the Sermon on the Mount. I made a couple of points that I don't hear bandied about much:

1) I don't believe Jesus was "preaching" to the crowd. I believe he was retreating from the crowd, and instructing his disciples. By "disciples" I mean not just the 12, but those who had made some sort of sacrifice to follow him. I think if you read the accounts carefully in both Matthew and Luke, you will see why I believe this. But I think it's important, because it explains why the Sermon on the Mount looks more like a list of instructions, and less like an inspirational oratory.

2) I think I have an actual explanation for one of the weirdest things Jesus ever said, in Matthew 5:29, 30... "If your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off... if your right eye causes you to sin, gouge it out... Every commentary I could find says basically that Jesus was emphasizing to us the true danger of sin, and the seriousness of avoiding that which can lead us into it. But that just sounds lame to me, like the answer of someone who doesn't really know, but has to act like they do anyway. My point is, Jesus just got finished talking about committing adultery (or murder) in the heart. He is teaching us that all sin really occurs in the heart, and what our hands or our eyes do is just an outworking of sin, or a manifestation of sin. When he talks about your right hand causing you to sin, he's referring to what he said earlier about murder, and how the sin is actually occurring in your heart, not in your hand. Same thing with the right eye, and adultery.

Jesus is mocking those (the Pharisees, primarily) who try to blame their sin on their appendages, suggesting that if they just removed those body parts, they could be free of sin. Thus he re-inforces his antidote to legalism by reminding us that sin occurs in the heart, at the deepest part of ourselves, where only God can truly judge us.

Later on that evening, after the Super Bowl, my friend Phillip (who heard my shpiel earlier that morning) asked me about my assertions on that passage. He said he believed that Jesus was also saying that we should try to avoid the things that may cause us to sin.

Although I do believe it is wise to understand what things bring temptation into your life, and to structure your life in such a way to minimize temptation (I do this myself) I cannot believe that this was even one of Jesus' points in Matthew 5:29 and 30. And this is why: Jesus takes great pains to contradict the legalism of the Pharisees, and one of the greatest Pharisaical blunders is to mandate the creation of giant hedges around the law. Meta-laws, if you will, that purport to erect an insurmountable shield to God's actual laws. This is taking the wisdom of avoiding temptation to a ridiculous extreme, that creates a tremendous burden on people who are simply trying to live their lives.

Despite this burden, the common people actually admired the Pharisees. They were it. Nobody needed to be told to try and avoid temptation... the true sin in that culture was to believe that there were humanly possible ways to be sinless and perfect, and the result was a truly insidious type of legalism, that deserved all the ridicule Jesus could muster.

I can actually image the raucous laughter that might have ensued as Jesus mimed out the cutting off of a hand, or the gouging out of an eye, as if such self-mutilation (also referenced by Paul, although of a much more... ahem... personal... variety) could actually bring about righteousness. Jesus took their error to its natural, logical conclusion, and exposed their absurdities. And he actually did it many times throughout his ministry.

Jesus would like to thank you for reading... you've been a wonderful audience. Don't forget to tip your waitresses.

Ah...

choo!

Hit the Lights, Mitch Hedberg!

Been too busy to write anything creative this week, and here's why...

HIT THE LIGHTS Benefit Fashion Show
This Saturday, December 8, 8 pm (doors open at 6:30) Tickets are $7 at the Front Porch, Vintage Vice and Mojo Pie Salon

www.thecoredowntown.com/fashion

But unless you've been under some sort of pet rock, you know about this already. Turns out we'll have over 30 garments, 9 designers, a live DJ, auctions, food tasting, and all-around good times.

Plus... When you buy a ticket, you get to help the Front Porch keep the lights on in downtown Springfield!

And now for something completely different... a list of quotes from comedian Mitch Hedberg...

On Favoritism: "I got my hair highlighted, because I felt some strands were more important than others."

On Time-Travel: "One time a guy handed me a picture of himself, and he said 'Here's a picture of me when I was younger.' Every picture of you is when you were younger. 'Here's a picture of me when I am older.' 'You idiot, how'd you pull that off? Let me see that camera...'"

On Catch-22s: "I'm against picketing, but don't know how to show it."

On Falling Snickers: "I like vending machines, because snacks are better when they fall. If I buy a candy bar at the store oftentimes I will drop it, so that it achieves its maximum flavor potential."

On Paper Conservation: "I bought a doughnut and they gave me a receipt for the doughnut. I don't need a receipt for the doughnut... I give you money and you give me the doughnut, end of transaction. We don't need to bring ink and paper into this. I can't imagine a scenario that I would have to prove that I bought a doughnut. To some skeptical friend, 'Don't even act like I didn't buy a doughnut, I've got the documentation right here...'"

On Following the Rules: "This shirt is dry-clean only. Which means... it's dirty."

On Memorability: "I hope the next time I move I get a real easy phone number. Something like, 222-2222. I would say sweet. People would say, 'Mitch, how do I get a hold of you?' I would say, 'Press 2 for a while, and when I answer, you will know that you have pressed 2 enough.'"

On Barbecuing on a Budget: "I had a bag of Fritos, they were Texas-Grilled Fritos. These Fritos had grill marks on them. Heck yeah, reminds me of something, when we used to fire up the barbeque and throw down some Fritos. I can still see my dad with the apron on... 'Better flip that Frito dad, you know how I like mine.'"

Doctrine of Original Spanking

I was listening to a Mark Driscoll sermon a moment ago, where he was talking about how people seem to know everything about parenting until they actually have a kid. He was making fun of how they talk: "You gotta have a schedule, y'know... feed 'em at 4, spank 'em at 5, pray over 'em at 6..."

And I cracked up at the phrase "spank 'em at 5". I've never heard of a pre-emptive spanking, but maybe it's not such a bad idea. After all, if you believe in the doctrine of original sin, a daily spanking may be just the ticket.

"OK boay... you was sinful from the time yer muther conceived ya, so git yer butt up here... and no Charmin this time!"

Is that why they used to hold babies upside down and spank them at birth? Makes sense to me...

Area Church Makes Its Home in the Clouds

DALLAS | It seems a new light has dawned on the religious landscape of America. This Sunday, First Bapticostal Church of Dallas celebrates the completion of its new campus, and the mood is, shall we say, elevated.

"You wouldn't believe the price of real estate these days," commented FBC's Executive Pastor, Jerome Bunkmaster, "Hoo boy! We must a paid a million dollars for our last piece of property, but you can't buy the space for a playground for that nowadays! I think we made the right decision."

Church leaders describe the search process for the needed 60 acres of land, conducted last year, as exhausting. With 7,000 members and climbing, the congregation needed a new home with some elbow room.

"So I looked toward the heavens," Bunkmaster said, "and pleaded with God to find us a new home. And that's when it hit me!"

As of this Sunday, First Bapticostal Church is the first church in the world to be located, literally, in the clouds. Advances in technology have opened up a world of possibilities to churches seeking relocation. Bunkmaster describes the cloud which forms the foundation of their church as a type of space-age hovercraft with a solid silver lining.

Although the inauguration is not till this Sunday, last night's Wednesday evening service served as a members-only dedication ceremony. Songs included "When We All Get to Heaven", "I've Got a Mansion in Glory" and "We'll Be Caught Up In the Air to Meet our Savior Jesus."

Members seem to like the new arrangement. Sylvia Johns joined FBC in 1944, and never looked back. "I sorta always knew we wasn't supposed to be walkin' around on the dirt like them other, um... unchurched people. Always sunny up here, too. I just can't wait for that new planned community they got slated for phase two."

Indeed, the plans call for more than just a church building. The official blueprints include a small neighborhood, a school, a post office, a clinic, a grocery store, and a Starbucks. "You gotta admit," Bunkmaster chuckled, "otherwise, the commute's a bit expensive, but no more than those pesky property taxes. And this way we'll only have to associate with our own good churchfolk. Except on Sunday mornings."

Three rope ladders will be available to visitors to climb up for Sunday morning's services, and an elevator runs for members, or visitors with a minimum $100 offering. Catapults are also provided free of charge, to accommodate the disabled.

Sometimes I Wish I Were a Smoker

If cigarettes, cigars or pipes were a) free, b) pleasant-tasting, and c) completely harmless, I think I would be a smoker.

Naturally, these three things are ridiculously untrue. I've never smoked for even a moment (a friend tried to teach me how to puff a cigar one time, but I failed miserably) and I suppose I never will. It's never looked or smelled appealing to me, and I've outgrown any vulnerability to that sort of peer pressure.

But there is one allure that grabs me every so often. This morning I saw a guy standing out at the edge of a parking lot, enjoying the cool morning haze, making a little haze of his own. I tried to imagine him without a cigarette, just standing there, staring into space. Then I realized that people don't do that.

When I lived in an apartment building with balconies, I looked with a trace of envy at my neighbors, who could sit out on their lawn chairs late in the evening, just smoking. I didn't smoke, so I tried sitting out on my balcony with a book. Not enough light. I tried sitting out there with nothing, and I could tell that people walking by thought I was watching them. I tried bringing a soda with me... that worked a little better, but it was gone in 5 minutes, and then I was a spy again.

I could sit out with a buddy. Now I'm not so weird. But then we have to talk. We can't just sit there and BE. Because that's just two people leering at passersby. And if there's a nip in the air, or a few more bugs than we care for, it's too easy to just go inside.

My wife and I will sit out on our porch now and then, when the weather's good and we have a dessert to eat, or a beverage to drink. We generally don't just sit there... we talk. And that's nice. But I still say there's something about smoking a cigarette that helps people to understand the value of just BEING.

Do I want more people to smoke? Hell no. I would cast the accursed sticks into the nearest volcano if I could (now there's a smell.) What I really wish is that we, as a culture, would figure out how to just stop for a moment... stop talking, stop doing, stop worrying... to take a break from life and learn how to be.

Now that's smoooooth refreshment!

Short Skirt/Long Jacket and the Proverbs 31 Woman

Who better than a chronic sufferer of foot-in-mouth disease like myself to find two things that disgust women and put them together?

I refer to a song, and a scripture passage. The song is "Short Skirt/Long Jacket" by Cake, and I don't know any women who are really against it. (If it's not ringing a bell, think of the line, "I want a girl with a short skirt and a long..... long..... jacket.) Most people I know just think it's funny and clever. After all, it's surprisingly non-sexual, and non-shallow. The "short skirt" desire is probably the only shallow thing in there, and the only references to appearance at all are the mention of "fingernails that shine like justice" and "eyes that burn like cigarettes". The rest of it is all about attitude, intellect and, well... business acumen.

The writer of this song is expressing a desire for a woman who has it all together, and even exhibits a number of traditionally masculine traits. A case in point is the line "she's touring the facility, and picking up the slack." This is an intensely independent woman... the kind that doesn't really need a man, which is a point that makes me wonder if this song is perhaps much deeper than it sounds.

Is it a satire? Is the writer really saying that men don't want the killer woman? Is it trying to communicate the pressure that women are under to measure up to an impossible standard?

Either way, I'm almost positive that the writer was inspired by the second half of Proverbs 31... because that scripture passage seems to create a lot of the same feelings in women as the song. "This is what men expect??? Well, screw that... I'm not taking care of two toddlers and turning a profit on a vineyard in my spare time! And hell if he's gonna see me in a short skirt again."

Good point, ladies. If this song, and this scripture, are true representations of our standards, then we've got another thing coming.

I said in a recent blog post that there are some verses which are just plain none of your business. And I think the second half of Proverbs 31 is like that... not really written for men to read. It is something women should be inspired by, without thinking that men are standing around, supervising their growth. The only benefit it has for men was expressed pretty well, I think, by Mark Driscoll. He said that a lot of young men set out looking for the Proverbs 31 woman to marry. But they haven't done anything to deserve her. He believes that the P31 woman is a woman who has been invested in over a period of decades by her husband, and many others. In short, if you're looking for the perfect wife, go find the perfect husband, because he's already got her.

I like this perspective, because it challenges both men and women to strive to be their very best, and hopefully takes our attention off of each other's progress, or lack thereof.

But I just couldn't get over the similarities between the song and the scripture, so I wrote a parody of the song, using as many actual words from Proverbs 31 as possible. I'll paste it in here for you. If you want to read the original lyrics, and the scripture passage, they're pasted into the first two comments. So here it is. (By the way... I already have a wife like this, so if we get a chance to perform it, I'll have to get some young bachelor to be the singer.)

I want a wife of Noble Character
I want a wife like few can find
I want a wife with worth like rubies
Who can afford me, her husband, some peace of mind

I want a wife with the right motivations
Who is good, not bad, and has nothing she lacks
She’s pricing the market, she’s working with her hands
She’s choosing the wool, and picking out the flax.

I want a wife with a short past and a long…. resume

I want a wife who gets up early (gets up early!)
I want a wife who stays up late (stays up late!)
I want a wife who sets about her work vigorously
Who buys her own vineyards, and makes no mistakes

With fingernails that are grasping her distaff
And spindles, and ledgers, and alms for the poor
She is strong, generous, and dresses in red
She takes on the blizzards and has nothing dread

I want a wife with a long temper and a short…. short… memory.

I want a wife with a smooth set of bed sheets (smooth set of bedsheets!)
I want a wife with a sash outlet store (sash outlet store!)
At the city gate we will meet accidentally
We’ll start to talk when I offer her my chair

She wants a wardrobe with strength and dignity
She wants a repertoire of observant jokes
She’s speaking with wisdom and teaching her skills
And trading in idleness for a watchful eye

I want a wife with a short engagement and a long… long… honeymoon

You Can Never Become an Encourager Like Me

I love irony.

Follow Me, and I Will Make You Fishers of... Snakes?

Turns out my brain is too scattered right now for a unified field theory of... anything, so here's a hodge podge consisting of unfinished past posts (time to clean up the "drafts" box,) and what happened last night.

Fishers of Snakes

Last night at the Front Porch my new buddy Richard the Sound Guy and I were trying like heck to get a 16-channel snake through a 50-foot long sub-floor PVC pipe that surfaces at one end on stage, and at the other end where our soundboard will be. For those even more uninitiated than myself, a snake is a long, thick cable that connects the soundboard to the stage, and ours has to be threaded through this pipe. Richard is quite a guy... very knowledgeable, but nevertheless he and I were having some trouble. We started by running a long aluminum wire through, but it kept getting stuck in the middle. So I had the idea to get out the Shop Vac and suck it through from the opposite end. So Richard put a ball of duct tape on the end of the wire and stuck it in his end of the pipe, and I pressed the hose down onto my end, and slowly but surely it started to move. Then... twhop! I snagged it. Unfortunately this story does not end quite so happily, because we ended up snapping the wire in our attempt to pull the snake through. Not to worry, though, Plan B looks promising, if a tad bit more expensive.

Pastor Po-Mo and the SpringMo Lib-Cons

I just liked this title. Couldn't think of how to write a post for it, though. Add a comment if you think you can figure out what it means.

Multi-Site Church and the Emerging Televangelists

I decided not to write a full-out post on this because most Springfieldians have never heard of a Multi-Site Church. It is, however, all the rage among large "emerging" churches such as Mars Hill in Seattle, Journey in St. Louis, or Life Church in Oklahoma City. It's like a church that has multiple services, except those services are often happening in different places at the same time, instead of in the same place at different times. It is common for there to be a "mother" site, and "daughter" sites, each featuring a different worship team and an entirely different group of people, but all featuring the same sermon by the same Senior Pastor, only he's on a screen at the daughter sites, and not in preaching in person.

It baffles me a little how the people who go to these types of churches are often the last in the world to watch a preacher on television, and yet that's essentially what they're doing at the daughter sites. Can you call a guy your "pastor" if you're never even in the same room with him?

I know I'm in no position to say what a pastor ought or ought not to be, but I'm going to do it anyway. If you're pastoring a church, and it grows, and decides to become a multi-site church, and has to spend tens of thousands of dollars on technology to make sure that YOU and your thoughts are the centerpiece of every worship experience, no matter how far away, then I think you've lost some of what it means to be a pastor. Hopefully, throughout all that you still manage to actually shepherd a few people, but haven't you just become a televangelist to the rest?

The Nooma Sessions

I'm terrible with serieses. I guess I'm just not the type. I did a post about the first Nooma video, "Rain" thinking I would blog about all of them. Except that 1/4 of the time I'm not even in on the discussion, since I'm watching the kids. Also the fact that I'm terrible with serieses.

Church Marketing

Months ago, I typed the title "marketing" into blogger, and saved it in order to remind me to write a post about marketing. But it turns out all I have is feelings about marketing, and no actual thoughts. My gut says it's sick... that marketing is just an extension of sales, and salesmanship has no place in the Kingdom of God. I know that church marketing and its goons have turned a lot of people off to the Church entirely, but I'm not sure where to draw the line. Should a church list their phone number in the yellow pages? Sure. Should they pay for a little extra space for added visibility? I don't know. Should they have a full-page color ad? Personally, I don't think so. But there's a lot of leeway in there. Obviously, I think websites are great. Billboards, not so much. But what is the essential difference? How do we know when we've gone too far in trying to get the word out? How do we know when we've developed a competitive nature, or a success syndrome? Anyone?

The Present

-I’d like a stuffed animal for my daughter.
-OK.
-For her birthday.
-Sure.
-What have you got?
-I’ve got this rabbit.
-This rabbit?
-Sure.
-It looks fast.
-It’s a rapid rabbit.
-What’s with the foam on its mouth?
-It’s foam.
-Does it have rabies?
-Maybe.
-So it’s rabid.
-It’s a rabid rapid rabbit.
-Great. Wrap it.

League Leader in Total Conversions

About three years ago I was pondering the idea of becoming an ordained pastor within a certain denomination. So they had me fill out this application, of sorts. Everything was going along fairly well until I hit the question that asked, "Over the past two years, how many people have you led to faith in Jesus Christ?"

Here's what I did:

I got mad, and threw it away. Not because my answer would have been zero, but because I am appalled by the mindset that would produce a question like that. So I forgot about the whole ordination thing for awhile.

Here's what I should have done (or rather, should have thought):

"Hm... how many people have I led to faith in Jesus Christ? Gosh, that's a little oversimplified. I mean, isn't it the Holy Spirit that leads people to Jesus? So I guess the real answer is:

0.

But the fact is, I did personally share the gospel and pray with 2 people for salvation, so I suppose my answer could be:

2.

But what about those people with whom I shared the gospel, who I found out later prayed for salvation with someone else? That counts, right? So now we're up to:

7.

Hm. It only asks about conversions, and doesn't have a blank for "assists". So I guess I should just include them in my answer. There's that one guy who had questions I couldn't answer, so I set him up to meet with my pastor, who led him in "the prayer".

8.

And those people I brought to church who went down for the altar call...

20.

And the two girls who were sitting around with a group of us Christians, who actually prayed with one of the ladies, but I answered several of their questions pretty well, I think.

22.

If we're talking about conversions and assists, maybe we can also count them like quarterback sacks, or innings pitched... in fractions. There was this guy that a friend and I led to the Lord simultaneously. And another one that was a three-man effort. So that's 1/2 plus 1/3... so now we're up to:

22 5/6.

That's pretty close to 23. Let's round up.

23.

As long as we're on the sports motif... you gotta give the coaches a little credit, right? Because I did teach that evangelism class for the youth group. Out of the 8 kids I taught, 3 of them were downright naturals. I heard they each earned an average of 5 conversions over the last two seasons years. So that's...

38.

Oh man... I almost forgot about that time I was an altar worker at a Billy Graham crusade.

249.

And I suppose there are plenty of times that someone observed me saying or doing something, that made it easy for the next guy to come along and lead them to faith. Those would be impossible to count... so I'll give myself the benefit of the doubt:

1,328.

OK... 1,328 it is. Hey, I'm a shoo-in for ordination!"

If you know me at all, I don't have to tell you that there's some fiction in there. But I think my point stands regardless... that God is definitely thankful that I'm on his team :-)~

The Simpsons Movie and a Lesson Learned

My wife and I were crazy enough to stay up till 2 am last night in order to be among the first viewers of the Simpsons Movie, so dadgum if I'm not going to get some blog mileage out of it.

First things first: The movie was GOOD. I myself am a dyed-in-the-wool Simpsons fan, and even my towering expectations weren't able to completely overwhelm this long-awaited project. And the fact that the Simpsons series has been getting consistently less funny over the past 5 years actually made the movie seem more hilarious. The plot was epic, the gags were a non-stop alchemy of satire, slapstick and silliness, and the overall look and feel of the movie was very satisfying.

Disappointments: The effort to include virtually every minor character in the movie resulted in no significant contributions from any of them. In fact, everything minor about the film was so minor as to be practically imperceptible. There were two subplots, one about Bart beginning to prefer the fathering of Ned Flanders to that of Homer, and another of Lisa finding the "perfect boy". Both of these subplots would have been lame, even for a regular episode, and the latter introduced a love interest so flat that the Irish musician/environmentalist who caught Lisa's eye might well have been made of cardboard.

Shocks: The creators of the Simpsons do take the liberties afforded them by the PG-13 rating, and lay out a manic scene of Bart skateboarding naked, on a dare. The action is jaw-dropping, as we witness a breakneck series of visual near-misses. I won't tell you everything about the scene, but I would recommend that highly impressionable viewers of all ages sit this one out. I must say, though, it is amazing how the well-timed on-screen appearance of three lines for two seconds can suck the air out of a movie theater.

The best shock, though, was one of the most brilliant sight gags I have ever seen in a movie, animated or otherwise. David Edelstein, movie reviewer for NPR and the Los Angeles Times, said it made him gasp, and that "You could write a whole sociology dissertation on that five-second gag."

It happened when an ominous shadow descends over Springfield, and the entire city is staring skyward in confusion and terror. We see a bird's-eye view of the church and the bar side-by-side (which is new) and people running out of the front door of each. As a group, they gape helplessly at their doom from above, and promptly switch buildings.

Something in me wants to write a blog post about this one gag, but honestly, I'm not sure what I would say. I will, however, digress enough from my movie review to say that this joke definitely rings true to me. Religious people often foolishly turn to alcohol for comfort, while alcoholics may simultaneously (and at times foolishly as well) seek a "higher power". If you want to suck all the charm and wit out of the gag, I suppose you could call it the "grass is always greener" syndrome. Pastors will proclaim that Jesus is the answer, while the bartender claims that Alcohol is the answer. But far too many who have taken the bait remain only mildly convinced... as evidenced by their desertion at the moment of greatest fear.

I guess I would be the wrong guy to write that dissertation. But if I were to take one thing away from this poignant moment, I suppose it would be to recognize that the things we cannot believe in a crisis, we do not believe at all. So here it is again, in memorable quote form:

"The things we cannot believe in a crisis, we do not believe at all." -Ryan Wiksell

Open Mic Night - Q-tip

Just wanted everybody to see the flyer I designed for the July 7 Open Mic Night:

Card Tricks

My brother is in town today from Portland. A rare treat, indeed.

Last night we were hanging out at my house with two of our cousins, and my brother, Brendon, was engaging my cousin, Matt, in a card trick. He didn't remember it very well, so he flubbed through a little. But ultimately he got it right, and it was actually pretty cool and a little mysterious.

Then I decided I'd do something ridiculous. I took the deck, fanned the cards out for Brendon to pick one. He did... then he showed it to Matt, and put it back, all while I was completely turned around. Then I gave him the deck, and told him to shuffle it. Then I told him to set it down and have Matt cut the deck. Then I picked the deck back up.

I don't know any card tricks at all. I was just being stupid, thinking there's a 1 in 52 chance that I'll guess the card. If I'm wrong, I'll tell them it was a total guess, and maybe I'll get a chuckle. But if I'm right... they'll be absolutely baffled at my magical prowess. So why not, right?

As I said, I picked the deck back up, and showed the bottom card to Brendon. It was the Ace of Spades. I asked him if that was his card. He said, "yeah." I winced for a second, but tried to play it cool. I asked Matt if that was really his card. Blankly, he replied, "yeah, that was it." And nobody said anything for a few seconds. "Don't you want to know how I did it?" I asked. I was really waiting for somebody to be amazed... but they just kind of sat there.

"I don't know any card tricks!" I said. "That was total random luck!" I couldn't believe it had actually worked.

And that's when they started to act amazed. People are so weird.

Ask a Know-It-All Preacher Man

There are those in the Bible who went through some pretty tough times. If only they could have had a Know-It-All Preacher Man nearby to help them through those times with compassion, clear thinking, and Sound Life Principles from the Bible.

Disclaimer: I am not suggesting that all, over even many, preachers are "know-it-alls". I am just poking fun here at those who are.

Solomon: Meaningless, meaningless! Everything is meaningless!

Know-It-All Preacher Man: You claim to be a wise teacher, Solomon, yet you are in danger of judgment for teaching despair! You of all people should understand that the meaning of life is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever! Many people have struggled with a sense of meaninglessness, but once you have given your life to Christ, and structured your lifestyle according to Biblical principles, despair becomes a thing of that past!

Hosea: She is not my wife, and I am not her husband. Let her remove the adulterous look from her face and the unfaithfulness from between her breasts. Otherwise I will strip her naked and make her as bare as on the day she was born.

Know-It-All Preacher Man: I hardly know where to begin with you, Hosea! First of all, let me say that you should not have married a prostitute! Simply by joining with her in marriage, you have become an adulterer yourself. You really should have taken more time to get to know her, to discern her character, and most importantly, to seek God's will for your life... because clearly you have missed it here. Secondly, you should not talk publicly about, um... breasts and, you know... nudity. That is really inappropriate. And you especially should not talk so scornfully of your wife, even if she is a prostitute. Finally, I really think you and your wife need to come and see me in my office, at least twice a week. Once we start applying the time-tested principles of the Bible to your marriage, I think you'll begin to see an improvement, both in her attitude, and in yours.

Jesus: My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

Know-It-All Preacher Man: Jesus! I see that you are going through a challenging time in your life, and are wondering if God is really 'there for you'. I have helped many people like yourself who have found themselves in 'faith troughs'. You see, Jesus, God has not actually forsaken you. You are simply experiencing a dry spell due to trials and tribulations in your life. If you buy my devotional book, you'll find several daily prayers that will really boost your faith in God, and help you to feel his presence again.

UPDATE: One reader on this blog concluded that I was making a mockery of Jesus in this post. I want to make sure everyone reads my response to him, in case there are others out there of the same opinion. This is my response: "I am poking fun at the 'know-it-all-preacher man' for how he might have tried to counsel Jesus. I believe that, when people go through hard times, often the last thing they need is a pat answer with a 3-step practical guide to happiness. Yet this is what the know-it-alls often try to provide. Jesus, in this scene, shows us that even the most righteous among us will sometimes feel far from God, and it's not necessarily caused by a lack of faith. This realization, sadly, is lost on the know-it-all preacher man."

You Wanna See a Butterfly?

Here... I've got one smashed in this book somewhere... aha! Here it is! A pipevine swallowtail... very rare. Yes, I realize the colors are a little dull... it is dead after all. But this way you can look closely at it... study it. You can turn it over in your fingers and catalog its parts and know everything you need to know about a butterfly, with none of that silly running around in a meadow to worry about!

You wanna see Jesus?

Hmm... oh yes! Here's a tract.

Puppies in Distress!

I don't think the West African spam scammers think much of me.

I heard recently that the now well-known ring of e-mailing hucksters in Greater Nigeria have recently begun appealing to gullible Americans' weakness for cute puppies. Apparently, most of us have stopped falling for the song-and-dance about how a fellow Christian in a foreign nation has a husband who is terminally ill and must (for some reason) give away a large sum of money to an American before the tyrannical guerrilla extremist secret police find it.

When that stopped working, they all sat around brainstorming, when a light bulb appeared over one of their heads, and he shouted, "Puppies!"

But no one has offered me the opportunity to help a puppy. No one has sent me any cute pictures of a 3-month old Schnauzer who could be transported safely out of Freakistan for only $50 shipping (and of course there's always handling, shots, taxes, customs, tariffs, chew toys... you know, the basics.) Maybe I'd like to help... but these scammers don't think much of me.

They said, "OK, we're switching to puppies. But you over there... why don't you stick with the rich Eastern European widow stranded in Senegal bit. I think there's still a few of them out there falling for that."

So I get these fancy-worded e-mails from people who don't even disguise their connection to West African countries, as if I were an oblivious fool. Their e-mails start out "Dearest in the Lord" and try to play on my religiously sentimental nature. (By the way, their abuse of Christian fellowship does make me angry, but I try to save my anger for something worth the effort.)

One time I got an e-mail from a young minister who had stumbled across The Core website. His first name was a little foreign-sounding, and his language was a tad bit flowery. I almost marked the e-mail as spam. Good thing I didn't... I had lunch with him, and he's a great guy. He may even become an important part of The Core team.

So in conclusion... if you know of a puppy in distress, don't hesitate to contact me. But if you happen to live in the Ivory Coast, just lie. Say you're from Freakistan.

Someone Still Mourns You, Boris Yeltsin

Today we mourn a hero among hard-working, hard-drinking, funky-dancing former presidents of former super-power communist conglomerations. Boris Yeltsin died this morning at the age of 76. One finds it difficult to truly grasp the ramifications of such a loss, although three questions do come to mind: "Has the ultra-cool name of the popular Springfield-based band 'Someone Still Loves You, Boris Yeltsin' now been rendered meaningless? Or is it all the more poignant now? Indeed, might the value of their records even climb in his absence?"

In all seriousness, to the Yeltsin family and the people of Russia... you have our condolences. May he rest in peace.

The All New G-Rated Bible!

WARNING: The following post is a joke. You can draw whatever meaning you like from it, as long as you don't accuse me of being serious. Thank you.

"Mommy, what do you mean Noah only took two of every animal?"
"Well, honey...
"He took two and let the rest of them just drown???"
"Actually there are some animals he took seven of."
"Why?"
"Because... um... they were going to, uh... well... eat them."

_____

"Hey, sport... you've been quiet. What are you doing?"
"Drawing."
"Drawing what?"
"Bible characters."
"Wow... that's great! Can I see?"
"No! Not till I'm done."
"Oh... ok. Which characters are you drawing?"
"Well, so far just Eve."
"I see. Um... before she ate the fruit or after?"
"Before."
"Right..."

_____

"What do you mean Stephen was stoned? I thought he was a good guy!"
"Well, stoned means..."
"I know what stoned means! It means he was on drugs. But only bad guys take drugs."
"No... no, no, no! I mean... yes, only bad guys take drugs, but Stephen wasn't on drugs. When it says he was stoned it means that people threw rocks at him until he, uh... until he died."
"You mean they killed him?!? Well, did he at least come back to life like Jesus?"

_____

If you're like me, you're getting tired of all the R-rated content in the Bible. Many Bible stories are played off as children's tales, and yet contain scenes of violence, pagan ritual, prostitution, genocide and nudity. That's why all of us at the G-Rated Bible Society decided to produce a family friendly version... just for you! And we didn't stop at content editing! We also edited for length, to hold the attention of a media-saturated generation of young people! We've pulled a few pages here from the life of David to show you what kind of good, clean, concise, family-oriented scripture you've been missing all these years:

David & Goliath

"Now the Philistines were a bunch of meanies, who gathered together in the valley to make fun of the Israelites. And there was among them a giant bully (who was six whole feet tall and had the beginnings of a mustache) who stood out in front of the camp, saying all sorts of mean things about the Israelites, and even about God! He said, 'Why don't you puny wimps send out a man to wrestle me, and if he pins me, you can give us all wedgies. But if I pin him, we will give all of you wedgies! I double-dog-dare you!' So David the Israelite, who was small but brave, came out and said, 'I'm not afraid to wrestle you! Even though you're twice my size, I know my God will help me to pin you!' So they wrestled, and after only a few minutes, Goliath was crying for mercy. David said, 'You are defeated!' and all the Philistines were sore afraid, because the Israelites looked eager to give them the wedgying of a lifetime. But David said, 'Stop, my brothers! We do not need to yank their underpants! Let us forgive them for their taunts and jokes, and share our candy with them.' And thus the Philistines and Israelites became best of friends."

David & Bathsheba

"And it came to pass, in the reign of Class President David, that the senior prom was at hand. David had been going steady with a particular girl for awhile, and was planning to ask her to the dance. But then he met a very pretty girl in gym class named Bathsheba. So David asked her to the prom instead. She said, 'but my boyfriend Uriah already asked me.' And David replied, 'Don't worry about Uriah, I'll take care of him. After all, I'm class president, and I am very powerful.' After Bathsheba left, David did something very mean. Since he was also the manager at the local burger joint, he changed Uriah's work schedule, and made him work the same night as the prom! Uriah was furious, but had no choice because he didn't want to be fired. So David took Bathseba to the prom, and there was nothing Uriah could do about it! The night of the prom, everything was going smoothly. Then, halfway through the dance, David's best friend, Nathaniel, came up to him and said, 'I just heard about this rich kid who stole a poor kid's bike!' So David said, 'That's terrible! He should get three month's detention!' And Nathaniel said, 'No, David! You're the real thief!'. After David stood in silence for a moment, he realized that he had been wrong. He left right away to drive to the burger joint, and told Uriah that he was relieving him, and he should go join his girlfriend Bathsheba at the prom. Then little baby Solomon was delivered out of nowhere... by a stork."

The G-Rated Bible Society would now like to make a confession: this is all we've got so far. So please respond to this post with your submissions for G-Rated Bible Stories, and we will consider them for our first edition.

Thank you, and God Bless.

No More Sissy Jesus

It looks like Christianity is playing a new game of “He Said, She Said.”

She said, “Jesus is our bridegroom, and we’re his bride. And that’s great, because he’s kind and gentle and forgiving, and he wants us to worship him with pretty music and poetry and floral arrangements all over the place.”

He said, “Jesus is a masculine dude… he was a carpenter and rebel. He was always stickin’ it to the man. You know, calling the Phrisees vipers and battling Satan and driving the crooks out of the Temple with a whip he made himself. He wants us to worship him with rock music and shouting and gut-level honesty and risk-taking and bending metal.”

Literally.

Good Morning America this morning featured an organization called “GodMen”, that wants to give the Christian faith a shot in the arm… the big, muscle-bound arm. And it turns out that muscles are a very important aspect to this brand of faith, because some participants actually get the opportunity to bend frying pans.

GodMen’s founder Brad Stine says the point is to “toughen up Christian men.”

Here’s the problem, as they see it: apparently only 4 out of 10 church-goers is male (and it’s not unlikely that 1 of those 4 was dragged there by his wife.) Some men have looked around at the total package experience of Church, and found the reason was obvious. Everything seems tailored to appeal to women: the music, the décor… Even the target virtues (grace, love, peace, etc) have a feminine slant.

They’ve got a point. But if you think you know where I’m going with this… hold on.

Stine says, “There’s nuances to Christianity; there’s elements that we haven’t been taught as men because we’re different from women. So when we walk into a church, we don’t see metal, we see ferns. We’re not used to that. We want something that shows the masculine side as well. We’re not trying to take over. We love the feminine side, but we think there should be a balance so that both sides are represented.”

So I’ve gotta ask… Is the Church a democratic republic? Is the goal to evenly represent the characteristics and personalities of its members?

We have no excuse in this day and age to ignore the role that culture plays in our spiritual development. Because we are “in the world” we can never get away from that influence. And if you’re a man, you may indeed be feeling somewhat left out of the equation… much like a Spanish speaker in an English-language service. “Is anyone here trying to relate to me?”

But at the end of the day, these “GodMen” need to recognize that God is not a man. Nor is he a woman. God transcends masculinity and femininity... and it’s a good thing, too. Because our gender, our language, our nationality, our personality... these things are just launchpads from which we embark our spiritual journey. And although we will never fully escape them during our lifetimes, we are foolish to strap ourselves down.

Kudos to these guys for keeping it real, and for driving the message home in a fresh and relevant way. But when they go back to their home congregations, let’s hope they take with them far more than a penchant for gender equity. Let’s hope we can all learn to die to ourselves, and be found alive in Christ.

First United Church of Aloe & Watermelon

Back when we were first contemplating naming ourselves The Core, I briefly entertained the idea of spelling it “The COR”. Looking back, I’m glad I didn’t, because it looks stupid. But I was originally dissuaded for a different reason. I told a co-worker about my idea, and she said, “Oh, I see! Church Of Ryan.” Immediately I realized it needed an “e” on the end. Thankfully my last name doesn’t begin with “e”.

There are actually two things wrong with “Church of Ryan.” The obvious one is that my name is in it. The Apostle Paul rebuked those who claimed to follow Apollos, or Peter, or himself, because all Christians should follow Christ alone (or pre-eminently, anyway.) It’s kind of a shame that there is a denomination called “Church of Christ”, because this should describe every gathering of believers.

Let me issue a challenge to everyone reading this. The first person to e-mail me the name of a church somewhere in the United States that is named after its mortal human founder, or leader, will get a free drink of their choice from the MudHouse. No teeny-tiny churches, and no cults, please. Also, churches named St. John’s, St. Peter’s, Our Lady Guadalupe of the Immaculate Reception, and so forth, do not count. I make this challenge because I would be surprised if such a church exists… Now, I could name several churches off the top of my head that are totally centered around one charismatic leader, but I doubt anyone would be cocky enough to make it so obvious.

So the first problem is the word “Ryan”. The second problem, then, is the word “Church”. Is The Core “a church” at all?

For the sake of clarity, I tell people that The Core is a church in the same sense that First United Southern Presbyterian is a church, or Third Baptist is a church (even though these examples, to my knowledge, do not exist.) It is not simply a ministry, or a parachurch organization. It is a Christian congregation, which most people would call “a church.” But even that thought chafes me a bit. Because I can’t say for sure that there is such a thing as “a church.” (*see first comment)

What was “a church” in the New Testament? Well, there was “the church” of Colossae, “the church” of Rome, “the church” of Sardis (sorry for all the quote marks… if you and I were having this conversation in person you would be getting the Chinese finger-cuffs out by now to get me to stop hooking my fingers in the air.) Why were these “churches” (sorry) separate from each other? I think the obvious answer is: geography. People could only travel so far to gather with one another. And within that travel radius, there appeared to be a fair amount of unity. When Paul chided the Corinthians, he didn’t say, “Well, I’m pretty happy with that group of you that raises your hands a lot, but I’m not so happy with that group of you that does everything by committee.” No…they succeeded together, and they failed together, because they were ONE CHURCH. As were all the other churches that Paul wrote to, and the seven churches that Jesus addressed in the book of Revelation. (*see second comment)

Today, you have people belonging to churches up to 30 miles from home. Many people, limited only by geography, could choose from hundreds of churches to attend. If limited by geography and denomination, that might cut it down to 30. If limited by geography, denomination and style, you may only have 5 choices. Now you just have to choose the one with the best children’s program, or the nicest people, or the most dynamic pastor.

Is this starting to remind anyone of a trip down the hair products aisle? Why should we expect anyone to be more loyal to their church than they are to their Aloe & Watermelon Moisturizing Shampoo Plus Conditioner for Oily Brunettes? They are the same thing in most people’s minds, because when the church becomes a product, the Christian becomes a consumer.

But when the Church was founded, it was just that… THE CHURCH. It was not a denomination, conglomeration or organization. It was the Universal Body of Christ, with local chapters gathering whenever and wherever they could. It wasn’t about finding people you love. It was about loving the people you’ve already got.

So you’re right to wonder why anybody would want to plant “another church” (sorry again) in Springfield, buckle of the Bible Belt. I wonder that, too. I can only hope that The Core is presenting people an opportunity to finally understand what it means to be part of “The Church”… to forget about being a card-carrying member of a religious institution, and start being a load-bearing member (an arm, an ear, a nose, a foot) of the Body of Christ.

The Word "Christian" is a Noun

Not long ago I saw a collection of pictures of stupid church signs on the interweb. Many of them were so stupid that they were almost certainly photoshop creations. But here's a few I know are genuine:

"SIGN BROKEN. MESSAGE INSIDE."

"WRINKLED WITH BURDEN? COME IN FOR A FAITH LIFT."

"GOD ENJOYS RECEIVING KNEE-MAILS."

"THE BEST VITAMIN FOR A CHRISTIAN... B1."

"SEVEN DAYS WITHOUT CHURCH MAKES ONE WEAK."

There was another sign that someone had assumed was stupid because it seems to be stating the unbelievably obvious. I couldn't find the picture again, so I re-created it over at www.churchsigngenerator.com:


At first I thought it was so obvious and prosaic that I wondered why even the dimmest of preachers would want to convey this message. But then I realized what he was really saying. The word "Christian" is a noun... not an ADJECTIVE. Here's a few familiar examples of the latter:

Christian Radio ~ Christian T-Shirt ~ Christian College ~ Christian Song ~ Christian Bookstore ~ Christian Counseling ~ Christian Cruise ~ Christian News ~ Christian Coffeehouse ~ Christian Band ~ Christian Movie ~ Christian Business ~ Christian Novel ~ Christian Dating Service ~ Christian Nation ~ Christian Magazine... and according to a recent post on this blog... Christian Jazzercise, Christian Perfume and Christian Golf Balls.

I was talking to a friend yesterday while Jars of Clay was playing in the background. Now here is what most people would refer to as a definitely "Christian Band." But I don't believe they see themselves that way. I believe they would say, "We are not a Christian Band. We are Christians in a band." The word Christian is a noun, you see.

I pointed out to my friend that, although Jars of Clay was pretty big stuff when they first debuted, their popularity has waned considerably. But despite all that, they have chugged along, making exactly the music they wanted to make, for ten years. Sometimes sarcastic or poignant or glib, sometimes downright worshipful. Sometimes at the bleeding edge of musical progress, and sometimes gleefully out-of-sync. But never bowing to the expectations one might have of a "Christian Band."

My point is not to recruit you to the Jars of Clay Fan Club (if there is such a thing.) My point is to ponder how using "Christian" as an adjective has caused us all to sit back and produce a bunch of worthless crap, because it's all just for fellow Christians anyway, and we know they'll buy it, and God will forgive us.

So then what? Then the world perceives the adjective "Christian" to be synonymous with the adjective "crappy." I dare you to scroll back up to the list of Christian Things and replace the word "Christian" with the word "crappy" in every instance. THIS is what the world thinks about all our shlock. And if you ask me, they're usually right.

Just don't ask me to say it with a church sign.

What the Hell?

1. “You’re doing a hell of a job.”
2. “I had a hell of a day.”
3. “It’s cold as hell in here.”
4. “It’s hot as hell in here.”
5. “I’ve just been through hell and back.”
6. “See you in hell!”

One of the beautiful things about the English language is that we have a way of coming up with words (most of which contain exactly four letters) that can mean just about anything you want. Their only real purpose anymore is to add a hard edge to what you’re trying to say. In the six sentences above, the word “hell” means something different each time:

1. great
2. terrible
3. the coldest place you can think of
4. the hottest place you can think of
5. someplace that makes you wish you were dead
6. someplace that makes you wish you weren’t dead

As it were, whenever a word can mean anything, it essentially means nothing. And it’s just as well, because nobody really believes in hell anymore, right? I mean… how old-fashioned is that?

This is where all the self-proclaimed Post-Moderns should sit straight up and take notice. What are the two main reasons people give for not believing in hell? 1) Because a loving God would never send people to a place of torture, and 2) Because the idea of hell is so old-fashioned.

To deal with those in backwards order, the concept of disbelieving an idea just because it’s old is one of the most ridiculous things that Modernism has handed down to us. So if Post-Modernism is going to do us any good, it needs to start by putting all the old ideas back out on the table for reconsideration. “New” does not equal “better” and “old” does not equal obsolete. Just look what that concept has done to our historical buildings and, conversely, to our great-outdoors-come-suburban-sprawl.

Now to take a look at number one. If you believe in a loving God, but have never wondered how he could banish anyone to eternal torture, then I say the hell with you. The rest of us have all lost at least a little sleep over it, and no matter how much we rebuke our doubting spirit, the question remains.

But before we can even go there, we ought to take a look at why we believe the things we do. When somebody says, “The whole situation in Iraq is a disaster”, do you believe it because you tend to identify with Democrats, or because President Bush really annoys you, or because you trust the mainstream media’s reporting? Or maybe you disbelieve it because you tend to identify with Republicans, or because you have a loved one in Iraq and you’re hoping for the best, or because you think God wouldn’t let America make a mistake this big?

Are any of these good reasons for believing anything? The fact is, we believe what we want to believe. That’s why most Americans believe in Heaven, but not in hell. It just isn’t pleasant to think about people going there, so by ignoring it, perhaps it will go away.

I’m not here to whip out the Big Book and change anybody’s theology. Mostly, I just want everyone to take a little harder look at themselves, and whether they’re really prepared to accept whatever God has to say about things.

Because wishful thinking is a hell of a way to search for the truth.