Jesus Needs New PR--Author Matthew Paul Turner

perhaps jerry was right about the teletubbies?

MatthewPaulTurner@gmail.com (Matthew Paul Turner) — Tue, 14 Jul 2009 18:22:00 +0000

Uh, the following video is hilarious and strange and frightening all at the same time...

Perhaps the late Jerry Falwell was right about the Teletubbies. He always did think the purple one was gay. I'm not sure how we're supposed to know that the purple one is male or female. But nonetheless, Jerry thought he/she was gay.

What are the first three words that come to your mind upon watching this video? :)

new song by imogen heap!

MatthewPaulTurner@gmail.com (Matthew Paul Turner) — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 00:01:00 +0000

Finally. Love it.

michael

MatthewPaulTurner@gmail.com (Matthew Paul Turner) — Tue, 07 Jul 2009 12:43:00 +0000

Thank you for giving us a soundtrack in which to dance, love, and live...

pray for kate mcrae

MatthewPaulTurner@gmail.com (Matthew Paul Turner) — Sun, 05 Jul 2009 14:48:00 +0000

[download]

Spread the word...

5 reasons you should buy 'the end is now'

MatthewPaulTurner@gmail.com (Matthew Paul Turner) — Sat, 04 Jul 2009 17:22:00 +0000

1) The End is Now: A Novel by Rob Stennett is well-written, HILARIOUS, and provocative. You gotta love the word provocative. It sounds so scandalous and sexy. But really, it's just provocative. (I just scared away the Nazarenes. But Christians minus the Nazarenes is still a HUGE audience!)

2) Read what is written on the book's back cover! One week from tomorrow, at precisely 6:11 in the morning, the rapture or apocalypse or Armageddon or whatever else it is you’d prefer to call it, is going to occur. But only in Goodland, Kansas. Stuck in the middle is the Henderson family: Jeff, a struggling salesman who lives with a nagging fear that something will happen to his family; Will, who’s just trying to figure out life in the fifth grade; Emily, whose greatest concern is that she won’t be nominated homecoming queen; and his Amy, who is growing stir-crazy from being a housewife for eighteen years—and is convinced this was God’s plan B for her life. The Hendersons are longtime residents of Goodland, Kansas, a small Midwest town where nothing new or exciting ever happens … until now. Are the recent happenings and catastrophic weather mere coincidence, or more? The town spirals into chaos and confusion as its residents discover the end is no longer near—the end is now.

3) Author Rob Stennett is a friend of mine. Well, we've never actually met in person. We met on Facebook. But who cares, right?

4) If you click on the link below and buy Rob's book, I will make 2 cents! How's that for full disclosure? I know, I'm such a money hungry fool. (What can I say--we need the 2 cents.)

5) Within the pages of The End is Now, there's a crazy sex scene that reads like a screenplay written by that guy who wrote Eyes Wide Shut starring Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman! (OK, now I've scared away the Baptists.) But the rest of you are curious to read it, huh? You dirty little Presbyterians. :) I'M JOKING! There's no sex scene, silly. Zondervan published this title, so you know it's safe for the entire family. (Whew! The Baptists are back.)

But seriously, support Rob by giving this, his second title a chance! It's good.

new derek webb song! wow!

MatthewPaulTurner@gmail.com (Matthew Paul Turner) — Fri, 03 Jul 2009 22:56:00 +0000

paw paw

MatthewPaulTurner@gmail.com (Matthew Paul Turner) — Thu, 02 Jul 2009 00:50:00 +0000

Elias with his Paw Paw and cousin Christian

the unedited letter to God...

MatthewPaulTurner@gmail.com (Matthew Paul Turner) — Wed, 01 Jul 2009 14:56:00 +0000

In order to fit within a certain time frame, the "Letter to God" I wrote had to be edited a good bit... here's the unedited version.

Dear God,

How in the Heavens are you, Lord?

I probably already know the answer to that. You’re feeling today exactly like you felt yesterday and the same as you’ll be feeling tomorrow, am I right?

I’m sure by now you’re accustomed to my asking silly questions. Lately it seems that asking questions is the only reason I write.

Of course, God, the truth is, I might have a few less inquiries if you’d write me back once in a while.

Whenever I email Oprah she at least sends me an automated response. Which might not sound like much, but honestly, it’s enough that I never question her existence.

God, I’m writing you again because I’m frustrated. I turned 35 last year, and for some reason, I was under the impression that, as I got older, the questions would get easier.

But that hasn’t been my experience.

For instance, I’m still trying to solve the theological word problem from last week’s small group. Maybe you know the answer: Grace and Judgment leave IHOP’s parking lot at 10 a.m. traveling in opposite directions. If Grace is a movement of the Holy Spirit and Judgment is traveling in a church van, which one of them is more likely to debate the doctrine of sanctification with a stranger?

I tried using my Bible’s concordance, but I couldn’t find the answer.

God, here’s the deal: I’ve been following you for a long time. I’m pretty certain that I became Christian as soon as I exited the birth canal. During my first 24 hours, I was born, born AGAIN, and because my parents wanted me to be exactly like Jesus, circumcised.

During those early years having faith in you was easy. Now, that’s partly because I went to a church where training up a child in the way he or she should go included flashcards to help us remember.

I had questions, of course. But they were the kind of questions my father could answer.

Except the one I had about the platypus. Dad had no idea why you decided to combine a rat with a duck, make it lay eggs, and for kicks, equip it with the ability to make poison with its hind legs.

“Maybe God had a bunch of spare parts lying around, Buck,” Dad said. “And decided to get creative. You know, like the people who invented the hot dog.”

I don’t know if Dad was right, but I still think of the platypus as the Oscar Meyer wiener of the Animal Kingdom.

When I was a kid all of my questions were pretty simple. And the answers my father gave me didn’t hurt anybody or push people out of your equation.

As a teenager I had very few questions. That’s because I was convinced that I knew everything there was to know about you. Not only could I say in order all 66 books of the Bible in less than 20 seconds, I could also recite all of your biblical surnames, reel off your top ten most-loved AND most-hated biblical figures in scripture according to Baptists, and I had become quite good at determining whether or not you would condemn a person to Hell based solely on which primetime televisions shows they watched.

My only question was in regards to puberty—more specifically, why I was the only teenager in my youth group who wasn’t going through it. It didn’t make sense, God. I had no problem believing that you parted the Red Sea or raised Jesus from the dead, but I did wonder whether or not you were capable of giving me armpit hair.

And then remember in college when you talked me into joining my first guy’s accountability group? Most of the time we sat around and debated questions about basic theology: Was speaking in tongues necessary in order to get into Heaven? Was the New International Version of the Bible really your word? Or was it published by Satan? Does believing in predestination make somebody a five-point Calvinist? And if so, were we born that way?

The rest of my twenties weren’t so much about asking questions, but more often fighting, debating, and voting for or against other people’s answers. For most of my life faith in you has been about having an answer, and then proving to everybody else that I have the correct answer.

But lately, God, my heart is weighted down with questions. Questions about how you do things. Questions about who and how and to what extent you redeem. Questions about justice and mercy. Questions about the little girl in China who is Buddhist and has never heard your name. Questions about the homeless men and women who walk up and down Charlotte Avenue all day long. Questions about plane crashes and natural disasters and cancer. Questions about politics and Global Warming and what it means to be holy. Questions about my friend who is gay and struggles to know whether or not your story is for him. Questions about my role as a husband, a father, a son, a brother, a friend, a citizen, and a Christian.

God, sometimes the questions overwhelm me. Sometimes I’m tempted to believe the people who seem to think that a person with so many questions is nothing more than cynical or weak or faithless.

I think about my grandmother a lot. When Mammom died she was 90 and the only question that overwhelmed her was when she would go to Heaven. She asked a lot of questions in her day. But she never let the questions define her opinions of you. At some point in her life she allowed the things that she didn’t understand about you to remain mysteries. She still asked questions. But they didn’t paralyze her or keep her from experiencing joy and peace.

That’s what I want, God, to be free enough to allow my faith in you to include questions. Scripture is full of stories about people who asked big questions. Moses asked if he was the right man. King David asked if you had forsaken him. Even Jesus asked if dying on the cross was necessary.

I guess I’m writing because I’m tempted to believe that, if I knew all of the answers to my questions, life would be a lot easier. Having all of the answers would allow my faith in you to transition from belief and mystery into a science—sort of like my faith in gravity, God. I could make a lot of money if I could turn you into a science.

Maybe that’s why you made faith to include a lot of questions, so we Christians wouldn’t try and make a whole bunch of money selling the answers.

I guess that’s why you call it faith.

Hope to hear back soon…

Sincerely, Matthew

PS: God, do you Twitter? Cuz if you do and you were to send me a Tweet, I would totally ReTweet you.

questions: a letter to god

MatthewPaulTurner@gmail.com (Matthew Paul Turner) — Mon, 29 Jun 2009 21:53:00 +0000

I wrote the following letter for Cross Point Church's series called "Q." Matt Singleton produced it.

I hope you enjoy.

[download]

Matthew Paul Turner-On Questions from Cross Point Church on Vimeo.

is it just me or...

MatthewPaulTurner@gmail.com (Matthew Paul Turner) — Fri, 19 Jun 2009 22:56:00 +0000

... does Christian rocker Jeremy Camp and the fabulous Bruno look like they were separated at birth?!

Maybe just a little? At least their hair?

pat robertson has become a tired ugly cliche...

MatthewPaulTurner@gmail.com (Matthew Paul Turner) — Thu, 18 Jun 2009 02:40:00 +0000

Needless to say, I disagree completely with Patty.

But apparently, somebody still takes him seriously.

Content source: Media Matters

jesus greeting cards!

MatthewPaulTurner@gmail.com (Matthew Paul Turner) — Wed, 17 Jun 2009 23:41:00 +0000

Found this site!

These are the best cards ever. Check out the website--many more styles to choose from! :)

total eclipse of the heart?! (HILARIOUS!)

MatthewPaulTurner@gmail.com (Matthew Paul Turner) — Thu, 11 Jun 2009 04:39:00 +0000

Thank you Mandy!

good 'good news'

MatthewPaulTurner@gmail.com (Matthew Paul Turner) — Thu, 11 Jun 2009 04:32:00 +0000

And oh! there lives within my heart
A hope, long nursed by me;
(And should its cheering ray depart,
How dark my soul would be!)
That as in Adam all have died,
In Christ shall all men live;
And ever round His throne abide,
Eternal praise to give.
That even the wicked shall at last
Be fitted for the skies;
And when their dreadful doom is past,
To life and light arise.
I ask not how remote the day,
Nor what the sinners' woe,
Before their dross is purged away;
Enough for me, to know
That when the cup of wrath is drained,
The metal purified,
They'll cling to what they once disdained,
And live by Him that died.
--Anne Bronte (1843)

crazy jehovah's witnesses!

MatthewPaulTurner@gmail.com (Matthew Paul Turner) — Mon, 08 Jun 2009 21:47:00 +0000

Why would anybody want to be a Jehovah's Witness?

I love how "Jesus/Michael" looks like Hulk Man from the Super Friends!

traditional marriage (sort of)

MatthewPaulTurner@gmail.com (Matthew Paul Turner) — Fri, 05 Jun 2009 19:26:00 +0000

DISCLAIMER: The following video could potentially offend you. So be warned. And my gosh, FEAR! (Parents, this video is PG13).

I know nothing about the lady in the following video. So of course, this post is not an endorsement of her or any of the White House's policies on the Middle East.

OK, now that I've said all of the things that Christians have to say in order to do something that other people think is naughty or offensive... WATCH THE VIDEO!

But only if you're not going to judge me for putting this on my site. :)

[download]

Not EXACTLY accurate. But it is interesting. Or something like that.

a new favorite: diana birch

MatthewPaulTurner@gmail.com (Matthew Paul Turner) — Fri, 05 Jun 2009 00:09:00 +0000

jesUSAves!

MatthewPaulTurner@gmail.com (Matthew Paul Turner) — Thu, 04 Jun 2009 20:12:00 +0000

To see this inspirational piece of artwork in all of its glory, or to purchase a copy for yourself, click here!

I gotta get myself one of those American flag head coverings. Maybe that's how Jesus stays warm as he travels from the lakes of Minnesota to the hills of Tennessee before crossing the plains of Texas...

christy nockels 'life light up'

MatthewPaulTurner@gmail.com (Matthew Paul Turner) — Thu, 04 Jun 2009 13:40:00 +0000

I have loved Christy Nockels' voice since she and Nathan started Watermark many years ago. It's difficult to find the words to describe how good it is.

To visit Christy's website, click here.

To follow Christy on Twitter, click here.

Here's Christy's new single. Great song!

Christy's new album released on Tuesday, and I am really enjoying it. My wife and I are giving away 5 copies thanks to her label SixStepRecords. So go to Jessica's blog and leave a comment!

So HERE and leave a comment!

great interview with amy grant about faith

MatthewPaulTurner@gmail.com (Matthew Paul Turner) — Wed, 03 Jun 2009 02:45:00 +0000

this sucks

MatthewPaulTurner@gmail.com (Matthew Paul Turner) — Wed, 03 Jun 2009 00:45:00 +0000

[download]

You got me. I am guilty for sure. I definitely use all of the words you mention in this video. I don't use them all at once usually. But I do use them.

By the way, you forgot the word "crap."

But you are right, the Bible does talk about talking holy.

However, the Bible also talks about a church having elders. And uh, you found a way to get around that one, huh?

laughing with god

MatthewPaulTurner@gmail.com (Matthew Paul Turner) — Wed, 03 Jun 2009 00:33:00 +0000

i'm blue... da ba dee da ba die

MatthewPaulTurner@gmail.com (Matthew Paul Turner) — Mon, 01 Jun 2009 16:45:00 +0000

[download]

For my next book, a follow-up to Churched called Hear No Evil, I was writing about my teenage affection for Sandi Patty.

Seriously, I LOVED her. Uncool? Yes. But I didn't care. Go ahead. Poke fun. Judge me.

It's nothing I haven't had to endure before. :)

Anyway, I was doing a Google search for Sandi lyrics and found THIS video. I wonder if Sandi has seen this?

I don't know what to think about it... do you?

HAVE ANY TITLE SUGGESTIONS FOR IT?

part-time stay-at-home dad...

MatthewPaulTurner@gmail.com (Matthew Paul Turner) — Mon, 01 Jun 2009 00:52:00 +0000

I wrote this piece for Her Magazine.

I hope you enjoy.

Just One of the Chicks
by Matthew Paul Turner

Right before my wife picked up her purse and briefcase, she hugged me goodbye and said, “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“Suuuuure,” I said. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

Jessica walked over to the bassinet swing where our 6-week-old boy lay swaddled from neck to toe. She leaned down and kissed Elias’s forehead and then tightened his blanket.

“Do you need me to show you again how to swaddle him?” she asked.

“No, I remember,” I said, kissing her goodbye. “I just wrap him up in blankets until he looks like a PEZ dispenser. I can do that. Don’t worry.”

“I’ll try not to,” she said, adding as she walked out the door, “Make sure you take some pictures.”

On that morning, my wife worried for two reasons: 1) Because she was going back to work for the first time since going on maternity leave. And 2) because it was my first day as our son’s sole Thursday/Friday stay-at-home caregiver.

Jessica wasn’t worried about my well being, of course; she was concerned about Elias’s. And I didn’t blame her. The thought of leaving our one-and-only son in my care for nine-and-a-half hours without a chaperone worried me too. It’s not that I’m a bad guy, but it’s no secret that sometimes I have the attention span of a hyperactive squirrel trapped in a grocery store. While my ADHD makes me a rather interesting and charismatic father, Jessica and I worried that it could potentially make me a deadbeat nanny.

We made the decision that I would stay home with Elias a couple of days a week because full-time child care costs the same as our mortgage. Since I already work from home as a freelance writer, I agreed to do it ... it made sense for our situation, but I confess, I wasn’t looking forward to it. Unlike the scores of female friends I know who have dreamed about being stay-at-home parents since they were old enough to ovulate, the thought of being alone in the house with an infant for an extended length of time didn’t tickle my hormones.

For the first few weeks, when Thursday morning came around, I became anxious, which didn’t make me the most effective caregiver. Every time my son cooed, blinked, yawned or farted, I reacted like MacGyver attempting to defuse a ticking time bomb, except I was using breast milk and a number two nipple. Eventually, after I realized that my son’s syncopated siren of a screech couldn’t hurt me, and more importantly, that it was actually his way of communicating with me, I rested easier (and more gracefully) in my role. In time, I started to enjoy my time with him, and now I actually look forward to it. Well, most of the time.

There have been a few surprises. Prior to spending quality time with Elias, it never occurred to me that I would one day get used to being peed on, or that I’d sort of feel proud of myself on the occasions when I was quick enough to block my son’s diabolical scheme to soak me in his urine. (I swear, my son’s penis is like a Super Soaker!) It also never crossed my mind that I would engage in a serious conversation with a stranger about the time I accidentally learned the flavor of breast milk. Now, it’s one thing when that kind of confession happens in the form of an awkward punch line that’s met with uncomfortable silence; nobody would want that. But it’s actually quite exhilarating when it occurs within complete context while standing in line at MaggieMoos.

However, being comfortable in my fatherly skin has caused me some embarrassment. Like the time I was with Elias at Starbucks. I was waiting for a friend to arrive when I overheard a group of three well-dressed moms with kids in tow talking about breastfeeding.

“I use a breast pump when I’m at work,” one of them said. “So far it’s working all right.”
She looked around the coffeehouse to see if anybody was listening and apparently failed to notice me and my ears. That’s when she whispered, “But damn, that thing makes my nipples hurt!”

(Un)fortunately, I was able to read her lips. And what’s worse, I knew of a product called Soothies that my wife used when her nipples were sore from breastfeeding. I didn’t just blurt out my suggestion without considering the ramifications of my being a guy and offering this kind of information to a woman. But the woman kept going on and on about how her nipples were raw and sore and how her predicament was causing her to consider giving up breastfeeding. So when I felt I had constructed in my head the most non-icky manner in which to offer my suggestion, I tapped one of the women on the shoulder. And it went downhill from there.

“Excuse me,” I said.

The women stopped talking and looked at me in horror, as though I was an ad on Craigslist that began with DWM ISO. They didn’t seem to notice that I, too, was holding a cute 5-month-old, which from my perspective made me appear like “one of them,” a loving parent spending time with his son on a Thursday at Starbucks. At the very least I thought it made me appear “safe.” But as I shared with them my wife’s remedy for sore, irritated nipples, none of them offered any facial expressions that suggested my advice was warranted or even welcomed. When I finished my sales pitch for Soothies, the lady whose nipples needed comforting said, “Thanks. I’ll look for them at Walgreens.”

When my friend arrived, I told her what happened. “If I’d been a woman, I’m pretty sure they would have treated me differently.”

“Well, duh,” my friend said. “That’s because you don’t have boobs.”

It’s sometimes odd being a stay-at-home dad in a world of stay-at-home moms.

My situation gets me a variety of looks when I’m out in public with Elias. Some people feel sorry for me because they think I’m a widower. Others stare at us in wonder as if Halley’s comet were shooting through Dillard’s. I’m convinced a few people think my “stay at home” status means I’m unemployed or lazy or a vegetarian, tree-loving socialist.

And then there’s a look I get from my wife every once in a while ... a blank stare that she gives me after I tell her about one of our adventures. Her expression usually stops me in the middle of my story. And then I smile.

“Yes, Baby, I took pictures.”

buy 'churched,' get 'relearning jesus' free!

MatthewPaulTurner@gmail.com (Matthew Paul Turner) — Thu, 28 May 2009 18:40:00 +0000

My publisher David C. Cook re-released (and also re-edited) an older book of mine called "Beatitude."

We retitled it "Relearning Jesus."

For a limited time, and while supplies last, you will get "Relearning Jesus" for FREE when you purchase "Churched."

Simply buy Churched HERE, and I will include a copy of "Relearning Jesus" in your order!