Stuff Christians Like

Stuff Christians Like has moved.

noreply@blogger.com (Prodigal Jon) — Sat, 03 Oct 2009 11:00:00 +0000

http://www.stuffchristianslike.net/ is the new home of Stuff Christians Like.

If you've got the blogspot address linked to your site, please change it. The new site is simple to use, beautifully designed and smells a little like candy. OK, that last one wasn't true, but the first two were.

And next week, if you visit, http://www.stuffchristianslike.net/, you can enter a contest to win the David Crowder Band's new CD. (We were going to do it today, but I am still trying to figure out wordpress and will launch the David Crowder giveaway on the 10th of October)

#631. The campus babysitter.

noreply@blogger.com (Prodigal Jon) — Fri, 02 Oct 2009 10:00:00 +0000

(Ben Meredith writes really funny comments on Stuff Christians Like. His is funny. And it turns out he’s pretty generous too because he was willing to share a great guest post with us today about the weird things that happen when you're a campus minister. And I was the student he describes in this post so hopefully this will serve as a bit of a tribute to the campus ministers that put up with me in college. I really dug this post and I think you will too. Enjoy.)

"Hello, my name is Sue Ellen McDenomination, and my eldest grandson is a sophomore at State University. I've encouraged him to get involved in the Campus Crusade group on campus, but I wanted to see if you'd go by and invite him. He loves the Lord and is looking to get plugged in to a Christian community on campus. I've included his contact information below. Thank you and may God bless your ministry.”

Due to the nature of my job with Campus Crusade, and the fact that my name is on our ministry’s website, I get emails like this about once per week right at the beginning of school each semester. Here's what she meant to type. Must be some sort of weird spell-check error.

"Hello, my name is Sue Ellen McDenomination. I have this grandson who may or may not be the antichrist. He lights things on fire, got the youth group banned from McAllisters for the rest of this decade, and once received the atheist club's "most outspoken" award at his high school. How he even got into the college where you minister I am not sure. If I'm being honest, the last place he'd ever willingly go would be to a campus ministry. He'd be a lot more likely to be perfecting his keg-stand form, if his facebook pictures are any indication. He currently holds the fraternity record for most consecutive mornings waking up in someone else's underwear, at 5.

Once at a youth retreat he stood up to place his faith in Christ, but mainly because Kaylee, his girlfriend, said she'd break up with him if he didn't.

I’d love for you to stop by and convince him that, even though your group’s name is "Campus Crusade for Christ" and he’ll immediately associate you with the horrors of 15th century Europe (if you're lucky) or our youth pastor (if you're not), you're a great group to get involved with. On second thought, could you hold back any information regarding your name or affiliation until he's been coming for a few weeks? And I'd avoid giving him the website name for your group. Our church's website has been redirecting to one of three Russian mail-order bride websites for over four years after he hacked it.

Can you actually forget the whole campus ministry thing for about six hours per week, (what do you people do for 40 hours a week anyways?) and just go and make sure my grandson doesn't hurt himself or anyone else? I have a spare key to his car that I'll be sending you via FedEx, and would love for you to hide the vehicle from him. That's where he keeps most of his illicit drugs, though, so I'd obey all traffic laws. I'd hate for you to get pulled over “ridin dirty” as Chamillionaire so aptly put it.

Thanks so much for your time reading this. God bless your ministry. (but, again, I'd avoid calling it a "ministry" for at least a year after you invite Jimmy.)

PS. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell him how you got his information, or his car keys. Thanks!”

(For more great stuff from Ben, check out his blog.)

Winner of Anne Jackson book.

noreply@blogger.com (Prodigal Jon) — Fri, 02 Oct 2009 09:52:00 +0000

A few weeks ago, Anne Jackson offered up a signed copy of her book, "Mad Church Disease" to readers of Stuff Christians Like. The question of the day was, "What is something you can't confess in church?" There were some tremendous comments. To see them all, click here.

The winning comment was submitted by Tanya. Please email me at theacuffs@yahoo.com with "Jackson winner" in the subject line Tanya.

Thanks for the great comments everyone.

Tanya said
I posted earlier as one of the numerous anonymous'.I woke up this morning and prayed for the people who have posted their confessions and for the people reading them.We are broken and tired. Our masks that serve us so well in church are cracking and falling away. Some of us do not even remember who we are because of the masks. Thank God this is happening.Depressed, lonely, angry, confused. The voices in our head shrieking. Sounds like the valley to me. Valleys tend to be dark, lonely and fertile places. I have to remind myself that mountain tops are nice, but you cannot live there and real growth is not sustained there.I heard someone say once that you are vindicated in the valley.Knowing this does not make things easier. Reading what is going on here reminds me how not alone I am. God Bless all of you

#630. Awkward opposite sex friendships.

noreply@blogger.com (Prodigal Jon) — Thu, 01 Oct 2009 10:00:00 +0000

(Update: Let's talk about this topic again soon. I think some poorly worded sentences on my part got in the way of a potentially important idea we should discuss.)

A few weeks ago I spoke at a conference that required me to fly. In arranging rides to and from the airport with the conference staff, I realized they had me scheduled to be driven back to the airport for my flight home by a lady.

I know what you're thinking, "Hey, you've got a book coming out, don't you have an entourage with one really big guy who everyone calls 'Tiny' and another guy who can always talk his way out of a jam and possibly a really tall guy who can reach things on shelves that you can't? Aren't you rich?" Yes, I mean globally speaking I am rich in that when I went to pick out shoes to wear today it was a multiple choice test. But I don't have an entourage, which is a request that Zondervan continues to ignore. When I travel it's just me and my backpack. No luggage, no baggage, just a seemingly bottomless LL Bean backpack which makes me feel a bit like Dora the Explorer.

So without an entourage, I decided to request that a guy drive me to the airport. I just wasn't comfortable with the idea of spending an hour in LA traffic alone with a girl. That just didn't seem smart to me and the conference was completely cool with that request. They found a guy, everything was good.

That felt like a no brainer to me. But what about other less obvious situations? When you get married, you’re suddenly thrown into all these awkward opposite sex friendship moments.

What about having a one on one meeting with a woman? Is it enough to just leave the door open? Or do you have to have three people present at all times? I know churches who use both approaches. My boss at work is a woman. When we talk about my salary and the exorbitant raise she's not aware yet she's giving me at the end of the year but will know about soon because people at my IT job have started to read this blog, do I have to invite someone else to the conversation? What if I forget to? Can I grab the janitor on the way to the meeting and just tell him to maybe vacuum in the room we're in if he feels weird and wants to multitask?

What about a lunch meeting? A married friend recently told me that if he couldn't go out to lunch with females he couldn't do his job. Is lunch with a lady a date? What if it's a business lunch? The CEO of Zondervan is a lady, what if she calls me and says, "Jon, we'd like to give you a 37 book deal and your own Honda Ruckus Scooter for a cross country tour called 'Ruckus by Ruckus,’ can we go out to lunch to discuss the details?" Do I have to invite someone along with me? What if my wife is not available that day?

And when you get married, at what point do you have to officially retire the silly sentence, "I've just always gotten along better with the opposite sex, that's how I'm wired?"

I don't know. I don't have the answer on this one. Just the idea that things get a little awkward when you get married and have to figure out friendships with the opposite sex. But of the two camps, "Jeez you're such a Puritan, loosen up" and "Better safe than sorry, can a dude drive me to the airport," I know which one I want to fall into. Because no one ever wakes up and says, "Today I'm having an affair." Affairs are slow burn decisions, with a wick a mile long made of little steps and little compromises.

Are you single?

Did your married friends of the opposite sex dump you the second they got hitched?

Are you married? What's your approach? What are your boundaries?

My new favorite thing is free for you.

noreply@blogger.com (Prodigal Jon) — Thu, 01 Oct 2009 09:58:00 +0000

This is the image Zondervan designed for the Booty, God, Booty illustration in the Stuff Christians Like book. (I can't believe they are letting us have this much fun on this project.)

Next week, I will be wearing a white t-shirt that has this on it at Catalyst, for all three days. The back says stuffchristianslike.net. (Rest assured, it will be washed nightly and I will smell delightful.)

If you see me, come say hi because I will have a satchel full of free Stuff Christians Like concert buttons to give to you. For free. For you.

One is the image you see above.

One says "SCL."

And one says "I love side hugs!"

Be the first on your block to collect all three.

We'll figure out a way to give them to people who aren't coming to Catalyst, but for those of you that are, just stop me whenever and I will give you some.

And although Catalyst is sold out, you can still buy tickets to the lab. I'm speaking at one with Carlos Whitaker and Anne Jackson.

Free buttons for all!

Jon

New Stuff Christians Like site launches in a few days.

noreply@blogger.com (Prodigal Jon) — Thu, 01 Oct 2009 09:55:00 +0000

The new address for Stuff Christians Like will soon be www.stuffchristianslike.net (Instead of the blogspot one you see in the address bar above.)

In a matter of days, my friend John Saddington, will help make it a lot easier to read this site. No longer will you be forced to manually scoll through 350,000 words to find the idea you're looking for. You'll be zble to quickly search and jump all around like your name was Kriss Kross.

What else will be new?
1. The comments will be easier to respond to.
2. Popular posts will be simply sorted.
3. The nano note will make it's debut.
4. Sponsors will have a chance to support the site and long term ridiculousness of Stuff Christians Like.

The site will be in beta and I would love your feedback if you find something broken.

So in a few days, if you can, change your old blogspot link to the new sleeker www.stuffchristianslike.net

And if the site goes down at all or has any blips make sure your connected to SCL via Twitter or on Facebook. Follow SCL on Twitter right here or on Facebook, right here.

Excited and a little nervous,

Jon

#629. Raising Dorks

noreply@blogger.com (Prodigal Jon) — Wed, 30 Sep 2009 10:00:00 +0000

I don't have any hard data on this, but I think that of all the major world religions, Christianity has the highest dork per capita ratio. Did I say that right? Is there a different metric we're using to measure number of dorks that I should have referenced instead? Are we still rolling with the per capita ratio? It's so hard to find good research on this topic.

But think about it, no one ever says, "You know who is cheesy? Muslims." Rarely will you hear someone proclaim, "The Hindus are all uptight." And when Buddhists are stereotyped they're labeled as being "relaxed and peaceful." Christianity though has a lockdown on dork status and you know what?

I love it.

I used to hate it. From the time I was in the seventh grade right up until I became 33 I railed against it. I did everything I could to prove to the world that I was not some cheesy Christian. I distanced myself from Christian culture as fast as I possibly could because it all felt so overwhelmingly dorky. But then something weird happened, something unexpected ... my five year old tried to get into pop culture.

I've got nothing against the particular pop star my daughter suddenly became fascinated with but the transition from “I love the Wiggles” to “the Wiggles are for babies” was ridiculously fast. (In her defense, that Captain Feathersword who the Wiggles run with, scares me to death.) Up until that point I really hoped my daughter would grow up to be a cool kid. I wanted her to be part of the popular crowd at school and be considered hip. But when she started sweating pop stars and other little girls in our area started getting into teenage television shows, I had to pause.

Those things weren't created for a 5 year old. The entertainment she wanted to watch was not written for a girl two years out of diapers. It's got boyfriends and girlfriends and topics that are way out of her understanding as a little kid. And she might love it. She might sing all the songs and have a blast doing it and fit right in with all her friends. But if I encourage her to do that, if I push her toward that, I fast forward her through childhood. I speed her up from a 5 year to a 10 year old. And although I make about 47 dad mistakes a day, I have learned one secret about childhood:

You can fast forward childhood, but you can’t rewind it.

I wish I could but I can't. Childhood only goes one direction and I want her to stay a little kid for as long as she can. There will be plenty of time later for her to think boys are cute and interesting. (Right now I’m pushing for “smelly and cootie laden.”)

Until then though, she's not going to be hip. I'm going to raise a dork. Which is different from naïve, don't misunderstand, she's going to be like Matthew 10:16, shrewd as a snake and innocent as a dove. And if you're making different decisions with your kids, please don't hear this as an attack. I'm new to being a dad, am by no means a pro, don't have all the answers and am really only writing about the two kids with my last name. Who will be dorks.

I hope I don't help create one of these sheltered Christian girls that just goes insane when they get to college, but I promise you that I'm going to do everything I can to keep my kids young, out of the loop as far as the world goes and maybe even dorky. And when my oldest daughter yells at me when she's 13 because she can't go to a party with a bunch of boys, who I know are going to try to kiss her, I'll show her this post. And she's going to yell some more, but at least I'll kind of look like I predicted the future, which is fun.

#628. The church flavored Q&A.

noreply@blogger.com (Prodigal Jon) — Tue, 29 Sep 2009 10:00:00 +0000

A few weeks ago I spoke to a singles group about honesty in dating relationships. The talk was called "The Biggest Gift" and focused on the idea that in order to have honesty in a dating relationship you need to give the person you're dating the gift of going second. I spoke for about 30 minutes and then was supposed to take 15 minutes of questions. I expected maybe two or three questions and then we'd call it a morning.

I was wrong.

Before I had even finished saying, "thank you for having me," a guy in the front row had his arm up. And then a lady in the back row starting waving her hand and then like popcorn, hands started going up in the air and I started getting sweaty.

Without realizing it, I was suddenly thrown into an "Instant Sermon Feedback" situation. Never experienced an ISF? Allow me to explain.

An ISF is a quick Q&A session that immediately follows a message. It could be at a conference, in a Sunday School class, at an all members church meeting, etc. It's simply your chance to respond with no wait to what you've just heard. And they can be tricky.

Usually in those situations, I bite my tongue because my first desire is to ask a fake question whose goal is only to get my across my own point and make me look smart. Basically I make a statement, instead of asking a question and essentially say, "Hey everyone in this room, I want you to think I'm smart and all bibley, so I'm going to pretend I have a question but really I'm just adding my own P.S. to this sermon."

That's ridunkulous, (a phrase I would say constantly if I could actually dunk which is why God cursed me with a low vertical leap, it's my thorn in the flesh) but I do it. And chances are I'm not the only one who could use a little refresher in popular Instant Sermon Feedback.

So here are the three most common ways people respond when given a Q&A moment with a speaker:

1. Yeah, but.
If you're a speaker and you hear this phrase, "Yeah but," get ready for a wild ride my friend. No one ever starts a sentence with "Yeah but," and then ends it with "you're really awesome and a great communicator.” During my Biggest Gift ISF a woman asked me to "define intimacy." I replied, "Intimacy is the ability to be emotionally naked and vulnerable without fear of consequence." She immediately said, "Yeah but, I'm not talking about being all naked under the sheets." Thrown into a weird tailspin by the “yeah, but” I had no other choice but to respond, "Neither am I, but I am a big fan of naked under the sheets." I think I even gave naked under the sheets the double thumbs up as I said it. I’m such a smooth operator.

2. The Challenge
This one is fun to experience when it's not you on the stage. Jumping right over "yeah, but," someone in the crowd just busts out a question that lets you know they disagree. This happened to me, when a woman asked, "What would have been a gracious way to handle that situation you described?" What she meant was, "The way you handled it wasn't gracious, can you please give us an example where the main character in the story, in this case you, isn’t a jerk?" Touché. She was referring to a story I told to illustrate what happens when you over share on a date. Once on a first date in college, I went to a girl's apartment. She went back into her bedroom and emerged with a pillow case full of journals and diaries she had written over the years. She then proceeded to read them to me. In that moment I started to calculate how many of my keys I didn't need and which ones I could throw into the kitchen to make a shiny, loud distraction so that I could sneak out a window. On a first date, the answer to the question, "Do you like living in Atlanta?" is never "My dad didn't hug me enough or ever throw the baseball with me." But the woman in the crowd was right, I could have handled that situation with more grace. So she got me, and you'll have the chance as a crowd member to get a speaker with your own challenge during an ISF. I highly recommend it.

3. The curveball
Another great approach is to throw out a curveball, some completely unforeseen sentence of awesomeness that reduces both the speaker and the crowd to fits of laughter. That happened to me at the Christian Web Conference a few weeks ago. During the Q&A session I told the crowd, “humor is a gift from God and when we refuse to accept it, it makes him want to take it back, like the unicorns.” Minutes later, a very serious looking, bearded gentleman raised his hand. I called on him and he said, “Sure, but why did God take away the unicorns?” I loved that and responded with something like, “Because we took their beauty for granted and did not respect their ‘stabbing horns.’” He responded, “Well I think you’re disrespecting unicorns. I have a site called stuff unicorns don’t like.com and you just made that list.” I thought that was hilarious and chased that guy down later to ask him to guest post on Stuff Christians Like. Few things are as delightful as a perfectly thrown curveball.

Those are the three options I see most often, but what about you?

Have you ever experienced one of these three Instant Sermon Feedback moments?

What's the funniest or weirdest or most awkward thing you’ve experienced during a church flavored Q&A?

#627. Footprints and shot glasses

noreply@blogger.com (Prodigal Jon) — Mon, 28 Sep 2009 10:00:00 +0000

I’m not going to lie to you, sometimes it is hard to come up with ideas for Stuff Christians Like. Although I learned a fire drill kind of approach to idea generation when I was writing branding for Home Depot, sometimes there is absolutely nothing creative coming out of my pen.

I mow the yard and my head keeps coming up empty. I drive to work and can’t concentrate on my commute with the flood of horribly unfunny ideas in my head. I scribble down nonsense on scraps of paper that my wife’s friends later find and mock me about. (“What did your husband mean by that post it note that just said, ‘I wish I knew more unhappy rich people?’)

Sometimes new ideas just refuse to show up, but other times, they fall right in my lap.

Or hand as it were.

I took this picture at a souvenir store in Destin, Florida. The resolution isn’t great, but hopefully you can clearly see what is written on the side of this shot glass.

That’s right, it’s Footprints in the Sand.

Arguably our favorite piece of literature outside of the Bible, the Footprints poem is a short ditty about a man talking with God. After seeing only one set of footprints in the sand during the difficult times in his life, the man asks, “Where were you God?” To which God replies, “Those were the times I was carrying you.”

I’ve got nothing against the Footprints poster, mug, commemorative belt or sport hair visor. I like sand, I like indentions in sand and I love God. Me and the footprints poem could probably share a small Kia rental car on a long trip through California wine country without getting into any major arguments. But footprints on a shot glass?

That is ridiculous.

The front of the shot glass says, “Footprints in the Sand. Destin, Florida.” The back? Oh the back is where the nonsense really gets the party started Pink style.

Here’s what it says:
“When times are tough, when you’re feeling blue,
if you’re not sure where you’re headed, remember the Lord, he will carry you.”

I wish I was the copywriter assigned to that project. I would have taken a slightly different angle on that poem.

“When times are tough, and your drink was blue,
If you pass out, someone will upload a photo on facebook of you.”

Or

“When times are tough, and you lost your right shoe
Remember your left eyebrow? Cause you lost that too.”

Or
“When times are tough, and you’re feeling blue,
you should go look in the mirror because you’re looking kind of purple too, I don’t know if all those shots was a good idea and then you ordered the #17 at the Magic Sun Chinese restaurant after eating “the fourth meal” at Taco Bell. I don’t feel like any of those things were wise decisions on your part. I’m just saying. You my friend, are the color of rotten pomegranates.”

OK, OK, OK, that last one got away from me a little bit, but I think I’m still reeling from the absurdity of the footprints poem on a shot glass.

How about you? How would you have written that poem if you were given the task for the side of a shot glass?

Let’s have a “Footprints Shot Glass Poetry Contest.” (I’m pretty sure Guideposts magazine already did this exact same thing, but I’m not terribly original.)

What would you put on the side of that glass?

Free book - Deadly Viper

noreply@blogger.com (Prodigal Jon) — Sat, 26 Sep 2009 10:00:00 +0000

Mike Foster is 50% of the people who came to my “multi-person” meet and greet at Catalyst last year. (Technically speaking, multi means more than one, so even though only two people came, I’m rolling with that.)

He was speaking that night and came by to encourage me because he’s one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. He’s also one of the most insightful so when Zondervan asked if I wanted to give away 5 copies of the book he wrote with Jud Wilhite, Deadly Viper Character Assassins, the answer was a pop n’ lock accentuated yes.

Let’s do a comment contest. Best 5 answers to this question win a free book:

“What’s the funniest thing you’ve ever noticed at church?”

It can be anything. Some song you always sing, a deadly fist fight between the mime team and the hand bell crew. What’s something funny and church related that you think belongs on the Stuff Christians Like list?

Comment until Tuesday, September 29.

What’s the funniest thing you’ve ever noticed at church?

#626. Evangelizing about trivial things.

noreply@blogger.com (Prodigal Jon) — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 10:00:00 +0000

(If you like Tyler Stanton, and you should, you ought to go to the Catalyst Conference. In addition to it just being an awesome conference, Tyler is going to be all over that thing like a spider monkey. Seriously, he’s done some hilarious things that are going to go live at Catalyst and you would find them delightful. In the meantime, he’s checked in with another great guest post. Enjoy.)

Evangelizing about trivial things.
The other day Jon asked me my thoughts about P90X, a workout routine I purchased just moments after being hypnotized by its 30-minute infomercial. Without even the slightest hesitation, I launched into a Romans Road-esque discourse about its pros and cons, its benefits and reliability, and a (powerful) personal testimony of my own. I wouldn't rest until Jon decided to become a disciple of Tony Horton.

As ridiculous as that sounds, it's not that far off. I spend an insane amount of time, energy, and passion evangelizing about all kinds of trivial things. Don't believe me? Here's a typical day in the life of Tyler Stanton:

6:42am - Run by my local Starbucks and grab a grande black coffee. Sure, the meeting I'm about to go to will provide coffee, but I like to show up with a massive logoed cup so I can promote their superior bean to my co-workers.

8:33am - Once I'm through with coffee, I pridefully whip out my gum brand of choice and, without being asked, begin proclaiming truths about its flavor crystals and teeth-whitening capability. I then start distributing pieces like they're individually wrapped tracts, mentioning that they should "taste and see" for themselves.

9:50am - As I open my MacBook, I look across the room and scoff at the ugly Dell across from me, as though I'm personally offended by their belief system. When its owner asks if there is a problem, I take a deep breath and dive into an apologetics rant that I learned at the Genius Bar.

11:08am - I overhear people at the table next to me talking bad about Twitter. At this moment, I can't help but feel like I'm being persecuted for my social networking convictions. I turn around and ask them pointedly, if they died tonight, where...would people find this information out? Email? Please.

12:35pm - Someone has the audacity to suggest La Frontera for lunch. This is my opportunity to evangelize to the masses. I stand on my chair and, using the acronym C.H.A.L.U.P.A., list the reasons why El Torero is the one true Mexican restaurant, and that I'll pray for the souls of those who suggest otherwise.

1:22pm - When it comes time to pay, I slowly pull my "Restaurants" cash envelope out from my pocket and regurgitate nasty credit card statistics that I learned from The Dave Ramsey Show. I offer the one guy who seemed remotely interested a ride so that I can answer some follow-up questions that he might have.

1:57pm - When the lady in line behind me at the bank asks to borrow my pen, I consider this a divine appointment and waste no time diving into my rehearsed one-minute testimony about how my life has radically changed since Bryan Allain introduced me to the black Bic Atlantis. "I've never experienced such a classy ball point!" I keep telling her.

4:40pm - My co-worker asks me if I want to go with him to the Georgia football game on Saturday. All of the sudden, I'm angry and offended. Being a Tech fan, he might as well have asked me if I wanted to accompany him to a puppy sacrifice down at the abandoned warehouse. The man who was once Darryl from accounting is now a nameless pagan cult follower in my book.

7:14pm - To cap off the day, my wife suggests we watch Reba. I gently explain to her that we were created for something more, something better and more satisfying...like 30 Rock.

10:10pm - I lay my head on my pillow, proud of my contribution to society.

(For more hilarity from Tyler, make sure you check out his blog, tylerstanton.com or follow him on Twitter.)

#625. Sermon Body Language

noreply@blogger.com (Prodigal Jon) — Thu, 24 Sep 2009 10:00:00 +0000

During my Senior Year of high school I decided to sit on the front row at church. I didn't do this because I wanted to be closer to my parents or the pulpit. This was not a noble attempt to break free of the distraction of sitting with all my friends so that I could perhaps hear the word of God spoken more clearly.

I sat on the front row because I was an idiot in high school.

I realized that with our u-shaped chair arrangement in the Marlboro Middle School Cafeteria, (shout out to churches that meet in places other than churches) I could sit directly across from the youth group section of the congregation. I could see all my friends and make faces at them during the whole service. I could flirt with my girlfriend and essentially "perform" on the front row for all my friends. So although geographically, my seat said "front row focuser," my body language yelled, "look at this idiot." Although we've never spoken about it, I'm sure that my contribution to the service was less than appreciated by my father, the Senior Pastor.

But maybe he didn't notice what I was doing? Maybe he was so lost in the moment of speaking that my annoying adolescent antics (alliteration) didn't even phase him? Maybe he is such a consummate pro that I didn't even make his sermon radar?

It's possible, but I want to be honest with you, I would have noticed.

Whenever I speak I tend to laser focus on the person that is paying the least amount of attention. Perhaps I am a masochist but I tend to scan the crowd and lock on to the person that is completely zoned out and thinking about whether it would be weird to buy a rock tumbler as an adult? Seriously, you always wanted one as a kid when they were in those massive Sears catalogs they printed at Christmas and you've got an income now. You're the adult, if you can eat cereal for dinner and ice cream whenever you want, why couldn't you just up and buy yourself a rock tumbler? That's the guy I watch when I speak.

And maybe you're that guy or girl. Maybe you're tuned out. If so, I want to tell you the three worst types of Sermon Body Language you can throw at a speaker.

1. The Rip Van Winkle
Ever fallen asleep during church? I'm not talking about during a long, lights are down prayer moment. I mean right in the middle of the sermon. Ever done that? If so, I hope you enjoyed it, because the days of casually doing that are over my friend. I was in a big meeting a few months ago and one of the higher ups fell asleep. How did I know? Someone showed me the photo on their camera. They had taken a snapshot of the sleepy person and it spread like wildfire in my circle of friends. I'm not saying that if I ever see you sleeping when I speak, I'll stop what I'm saying, walk close enough to hear your soft little snores and take a photo that I then post on Stuff Christians Like, twitter about and add to my facebook page, but I'm not saying I won't either.

2. The Arm Fold Head Shake
By this point, everyone knows that when you fold your arms over your chest your body language is saying, "Whoa, I'm building a wall with my arms and mentally shot blocking whatever it is you're telling me." And then on top of that, I'm going to add a head shake instead of a head nod, the shake being a sign that like a Portuguese Water dog, after a brisk summer swim, I am shaking away any words you're throwing at me instead of nodding along in agreement. Whenever I speak somewhere I do a humor litmus test to gauge the percent of AFHS in the crowd. I basically just tell the Booty God Booty story and if arms start crossing and heads start shaking immediately I scratch my ear which is a signal to my wife to start the car and crack open a window for me to crawl out. Things are not going to go well for me.

3. The "Look at my Arms"
A few weeks ago I spoke at a retreat where they created a fill in the blank outline for my talk. During the fill in the blank portion of the message I noticed a handful of people scribbling down the words I was saying, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw one guy stretch his right arm onto the back of the chair. "Hey, maybe that guy is a southpaw. Maybe he's writing down all these insightful words I'm saying with his left hand." I thought to myself. Nope, a few seconds later he put his left arm up on the seats. He sat there, arms outstretched, not even to lovingly cradle someone as he was sitting alone. It was as if he was saying, "Look at my arms, this is when I should be writing notes down but I don't even need to. I put my handout on the floor, next to my keys, which I'll probably kick at some point if you start going on to long. Look at my arms, not note taking here. I would if there was something ink worthy being said."

Those are the three worst forms of Sermon Body Language. Want to send your minister a different signal? Lean forward, with note paper in hand, and a glint in your eye that says, "I don't know whether to laugh or cry right now or maybe do both but I'm learning, I'm listening and I might even be life changing right here in my seat." Or at the bare minimum fall asleep in a section of the church where it doesn't look like people have camera phones.

What's the worst sermon body language you've ever seen?

Winners of Jason Boyett Book.

noreply@blogger.com (Prodigal Jon) — Thu, 24 Sep 2009 09:56:00 +0000

Here are the three people who won a free copy of one of Jason Boyett’s Pocket Guide books. If you made one of the winning comments about which book you wish had a sequel, please email me at theacuffs@yahoo.com with your mailing address and “Boyett Winner” in the subject line. Thanks so much for sharing your ideas.

Kathy said... Gone With The Wind.
SEPTEMBER 12, 2009 6:35 AM

Chris Hill said... Partly Cloudy Patriot by Sarah Vowell.
SEPTEMBER 12, 2009 1:56 PM

wheresmycow said... I'd probably just go for a Pride and Prejudice sequel
SEPTEMBER 14, 2009 9:05 AM

#624. Having bonsai faith.

noreply@blogger.com (Prodigal Jon) — Wed, 23 Sep 2009 10:00:00 +0000

I'm a little terrified of my friend Nathan.

He's not physically scary. I mean he's kind of a brawny, weight lifting type of guy, much like myself if you've seen the video from Cross Point. And he has a breakdancing ministry in inner city Atlanta so clearly it's not a pop n' lock issue. It's just that he tends to ask tough questions. He tends to say things that make me uncomfortable. And that's exactly what he did at Willy's a few weeks ago.

We went there for a burrito because unlike Chipotle they don't charge you for chips. (At this point in the history of burrito consumption, I feel like charging extra money for chips is like a restaurant asking you to pay for the use of a fork. Boggles the mind really.) During lunch I was telling him that I felt like I had hit a spiritual wall. I was stuck. There wasn't any one thing I could point my finger at, some neon issue I had jumped back into with both feet, but for some reason I just seemed off kilter.

After hearing me ramble for what probably felt like 19 years, Nathan asked me simply,
"Where is all this stuff going? Your quiet time, your study, your reading, your Bible work? Where is the outward expression of your faith? Who are you serving right now?"

Ahh come on. I don't want tough questions. I want easy friendships where I show up and you show up and we tell each other how awesome we are. "You're a fantastic Christian!" "No, you're a fantastic Christian!" I don't like questions like that.

But as I thought about what he asked, I was confronted with the reality that I really only want to follow the first and greatest commandment. Are you familiar with that one? In Matthew 22:37-38 a guy named Jesus says, "'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment."

I am down with that verse. When I read it, I think to myself, "Yes, that is what I am talking about! I will focus inward and learn to love the Lord with all my heart and my soul and my mind. This is fantastic. I can twist this into some sort of God-flavored self improvement course. This will be like a Biblically based version of that productivity book I'm reading right now, 'Getting Things Done.' I'll find a quiet spot, cocoon myself in self effort and just go to town growing my faith in a little greenhouse of me."

That's what I want to do. But Jesus doesn't stop thought there. I want him to. I want him to drop a hard period at the end of that sentence and move on to walking on water or multiplying fish with his bare hands. "End scene Jesus, end scene!" I want to shout. But He doesn't get down that way. He follows verse 38 with this gem about the second commandment:

“And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments."

Nards! Really? There's a neighbor involved? Can't I just go on a deep spiritual retreat to a cave in the desert where I grow a beard, and live alone as I work on my faith, perhaps keeping a wolf as my only companion? I’ll name him "Timber" after the one Snake Eyes had in GI Joe. Can't I turn the Bible into a self help book and God into a self empowerment guru? Can't this faith thing just be about me?

But it's not. There's a second half to that thought. There's a neighbor and a call to love and an outward expression of faith and Nathan challenged me on it.

The truth is, I sometimes want my faith to be like a bonsai tree, the miniaturized versions of trees made famous in the Karate Kid movie. I want to manicure it and study it and prune it and move piece by piece around with tweezers, never once taking my eyes off the small little tree and refusing to admit there is a forest outside my window. Never once admitting that there are deep woods all around me. Never once realizing that I walk through groves of trees every day that need to be loved and served.

Is there an inward direction to faith? Is there a place for being deliberate about your heart and your mind and your soul? Without a doubt. I don't think Jesus made a mistake when He called loving the Lord the most important commandment. I think the internal life is a critical part of our faith experience. But Jesus didn't stop there. He didn't end the thought with that foundation. He didn’t end the thought with a single tree. He jumped into the forest. He finished by calling us toward our neighbor. He ended by calling us toward outward love.

And whether I'm afraid or lazy or selfish or a million other things, I can't escape from the fact that He wants me to have more than bonsai faith.

Have you ever felt like you have bonsai faith?

#623. Believing in the magical power of the :)

noreply@blogger.com (Prodigal Jon) — Tue, 22 Sep 2009 10:00:00 +0000

If I had to guess, the inventor of the semi-colon is pretty angry right now. I don’t know who he or she is, I mean I suppose I could look it up on the Internets, but that feels way too close to me googling something grammar related and I swore in the seventh grade that would never happen. (I know, that was before the Internet even existed, but I was always a pretty intuitive lad. I had a gut feeling it was coming, you know?)

And do you know why the inventor of the semi-colon is so bothered right now, why he's jealous of the inventor of the colon, why he’s somewhere getting drunk with the lady who invented the ampersand and bemoaning his fortunes?

The smiley face emoticon.

Even though I predicted the Internet a decade before it blew up, even I didn’t see that thing coming. When you combine a colon, not a semi but just a regular colon, with a parenthesis, wild things happen. Magically a smile pops up. Look at it, :), it’s so powerful and tiny.

Big deal, right? There are a million emoticons, we even made a list of Christian emoticons. We all use them in some way. The chat system they put on our computers at work inexplicably has both a sheep and a soccer ball icon you can automatically insert in your corporate chat sessions should you find yourself in need of a “sheep soccer” reference. Who cares about the smiley face? It’s useless. Or is it? I’ve started to notice something lately, whenever someone tells me something difficult or borderline mean, they punctuate their thought with a smiley face.

That small smiley face absolves you of anything hateful or mean or gossipy in the email or text message or tweet you’ve just written. It’s the ultimate Christian get out of jail free card.

I dare say it’s the digital version of “bless her heart.”

We’ve covered that majestic phrase a million times on this site already (it’s what you say when you want to slam someone but not look like you’re in fact slamming someone). But lately I’ve really seen the :) making a strong showing.

Just the other day a pastor busted on me on Twitter and then threw out a smiley face at the end of his tweet. For the first part of the message I thought, “Ahh, that stinks, that dude doesn’t like me. I hate to read negative stuff about me. Why do I care so much about this stuff? I wish I wasn’t so insecure. Maybe this guy is right, maybe I am horrible.” And I started to get blue, but then I saw the smile at the end of his tweet. “Ohh wait, wait, wait. There’s a little smile at the end of the tweet. Phew, for a second I thought this guy didn’t like me, but those kidney punches at the beginning of his tweet were just to soften me up so that I could receive this hidden hug at the end.”

It’s uncanny really, and I fear the smile face is going to eventually replace my favorite “pretend I didn’t just say that” phrase. I’m of course talking about “I was only joking!”

That used to be my go to phrase to drop when I wanted to pretend what I really thought wasn’t what I really thought. I’d say something hurtful or maybe even confess something honest about what was going on in my own life and then I’d say, “Ahh just kidding. I was only joking.” I used to hide behind sarcasm like it was a quilt lovingly made during the moments before church starts.

The whole phrase worked pretty well until I saw this in Proverbs 26: 18-19:

"Like a madman shooting firebrands or deadly arrows is a man who deceives his neighbor and says, 'I was only joking!'"

Oh snap! The phrase “I was only joking” is in the Bible? Are you sure? The real Bible, not just the Message. I mean the message says a lot of things, that’s a Bible sure, but are you telling me, that the NIV puts the phrase “I was only joking” on blast?

I am, that’s what it says. And I don’t want to shoot deadly arrows. I don’t want to deceive my neighbor. I don’t want to be a madman. And I don’t want you be one either.

Let’s retire the :). Let’s put it in the same place we put our Ace of Bass CDs. (I agree, those were crazy, heady times, I loved “All that she wants is another baby” just as much as you, but we made the right decision. We did.) Let’s retire the digital “bless her heart.”

Let’s retire the : + ) = we can say whatever we want. Let’s give the inventor of the semi colon a reason to smile again. All he has right now is that stupid wink emoticon ;) thing. Let’s knock down the colon guy a few notches. We can do this. I know we can.

I saw the sign.

(I couldn’t help it. I tried to avoid a second ace of bass reference but I just couldn’t do it. I’ll be a better blogger next year. Promise.)

Has anyone ever smiley emoticoned you?

#622. The Pastor's Kid.

noreply@blogger.com (Prodigal Jon) — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 10:00:00 +0000

I recently saw the GI Joe movie. My only complaint, other than that Snakes Eyes' mask inexplicably covered his lips too which created this weird gummy smile, was that there was no public service message at the end.

That used to be my favorite part of the cartoon. At the end of each episode on TV, there would be a thirty second clip of some dumb kids trying to do something like pet a cougar. Then a member of the Joe squad would come out and say, "Whoa kids, cougars live to maul and maim. Though their fur is soft and downy, you should never pet one." The kids would look up and say, "Gee thanks Bazooka, you really saved us today." He'd look at the camera and respond, "Well now you know, and knowing is half the battle."

Knowing is half the battle, deep words from GI Joe and certainly words that were floating in my head when I decided to write about a subject I've largely avoided- Pastor's Kids.

I guess as a PK, there's part of me that didn't really know how to approach the topic. There are about a billion ways you can write about the oddity that is a pastor kid and I wanted to do us justice. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that yes, knowing is half the battle and if I can help you know what kind of pastor kid you have at your church, I've done a public service.

I believe there are primarily four types of pastor's kids:
1. The Replica
2. The Romeo
3. The Rebel
4. The Regular

And the easiest way to tell which kind you’re dealing with is to take this quick quiz:

1. During youth Sunday, your pastor's kid:
A. Delivers a fire and brimstone sermon, with an altar call and spontaneous baptisms.
B. Winks at his girlfriend from the pulpit and mentions that ladies can follow him on twitter if they’d like or myspace or facebook or just in the parking lot.
C. Promises to come to church that day and not throw anything round or square at the puppet team. Again.
D. None of the above.

2. During camp, your pastor's kid:
A. Questions the theology of the counselors leading the camp and feels glad that he packed his 37 pound concordance Bible with him.
B. Plays the three chords of guitar he knows, kisses 4 girls from 3 separate youth groups and almost gets kicked out for getting caught outside his cabin at night.
C. You're kidding right? He didn’t go to camp. He didn’t want to and that camp still has him on the blacklist after last year for that thing with the paint.
D. None of the above.

3. Your pastor’s kid tells a counselor:
A. “The pressures of tending for a flock are really heavy. And I haven't found a date to the eighth grade dance yet.”
B. “Is that your wife in that photo on your desk? Well done.”
C. “I’m here because my parents made me come. And I wish my dad spent more time loving the people in his own house instead of the people in church. He came home empty some days.”
D. None of the above

4. Your pastor’s kid drives:
A. Demons out of people.
B. A jeep. He’s the guy with the jeep.
C. A Volvo wagon with band stickers that may or may not be Swedish punk rock devil worshippers.
D. None of the above

5. Your pastor’s kid plays:
A. The organ or the harp although he’s not above a little tambourining if the girl he is courting wants to practice the HWMT.
B. The previously mentioned acoustic guitar, but he may also buy a pair of bongos when he realizes girls like mellow things like Jack Johnson.
C. Electric guitar or turntables depending on what is currently considered the most “screw you mom and dad” music at the time.
D. None of the above

6. Your pastor’s kid walks around church as if:
A. He’s praying for the building and the work of the lamb to be done there.
B. You can find him at the club, bottle full of bub.
C. He’s looking for some sort of structural damage he could exploit with an M80.
D. None of the above

7. Your pastor’s kid’s theme song is:
A. Pick a hymn, any hymn.
B. “Son of a preacher man.” Was there any doubt?
C. Is there a particular song you don’t like? Then it’s that one.
D. None of the above.

8. In church, your pastor’s kid sits with:
A. His mom on the front row but he’s got his eyes on the big pastor chair that’s on stage. Someday, someday.
B. With the shortys and or honeys and on some occasions, his boos.
C. Sometimes in the front row in an ironic way but mostly in the very back row.
D. None of the above.

Answer Key:
If you answered mostly A:
Ahh, the Replica, that junior version of the senior pastor. He knows more Bible verses than you, spends his summers practicing preaching in his tree house and knocks it out every year on youth Sunday. This kid came out of the womb knowing what he wanted to do. He is a chip off the old pulpit.

If you answered mostly B
Well, hello, hello Romeo. The ladies man. The “hi, you come here to worship often?” Charming, intuitive, slick and currently giving his parents ulcers. You can only hear so many stories from deacons or elders before the pastor starts hitting the pink stuff.

If you answered mostly C
Unlike, Stryper, this cat is not saying “To Hell with the Devil.” He’s dedicated to going the opposite direction that everyone in church and youth group goes. He’s going to swim in the baptismal, get kicked off each retreat he’s forced to attend and eventually realize he filtered God through the image of his dad all these years and they’re very different people.

If you answered mostly D
You’ve got a pretty regular kind of pastor’s kid on your hands. He’s not going to cause a ruckus but he’s also not going to lead a revival anytime soon. Nothing to see here folks, move it along.

Those are the four stereotypes I experienced most. Where the ladies at? Great question. I wrote this from the guy’s perspective because 100% of my own experiences as a pastor’s kid have been as a guy. (Maybe we should get a lady PK to write a guest post.) Me personally, I was a bit of the Replica and the Romeo. I loved speaking at church, but I spent most of my youth trying to get girls to make out with me. Emphasis on the word “trying.”

That’s my take on the pastor’s kid. What’s yours?

Are you a pastor's kid?

Did your pastor's kid fit any of the molds I offered today? If not, what stereotype did I completely miss?

The Stuff Christians Like book. Pre-order today!

noreply@blogger.com (Prodigal Jon) — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 09:55:00 +0000

Pre-order the Stuff Christians Like book from Amazon by clicking right here.

Why buy it? Great question.

7 reasons to buy the Stuff Christians Like book.

1. There are more than 120 posts inside, including more than 80 never before seen, brand new, never on the site ideas.

2. A really talented artist named Mark Sheeres illustrated it and the work he did is hilarious.

3. It’s only $10.39.

4. It only weighs 235 grams. (Not sure why Amazon lists the grams but if you prefer books in low the 200 gram range, you will love this one.)

5. I was afraid a publisher might make me water down the message, but Zondervan didn’t make me pull punches. Instead, the editor I worked with really amplified the humor and honesty of the whole thing.

6. It comes out in April. By then you will have forgotten you ordered it. One day, on a bright spring afternoon, you’ll walk to the mailbox and say, “Oh, what’s this?” And then you’ll do the robot.

7. If lots of people pre-order it, Zondervan will let me publish another book and get me a hybrid tour bus that runs on skittles and make us a collectible Stuff Christians Like belt buckle line.

OK, I made up that last one, but the list felt really incomplete with only 6 items.

To pre-order the book, click here.

And thank you for making this book possible. It doesn’t exist without you reading this site and I hope to continue showing my extreme gratefulness for that by continuing to write Stuff Christians Like.

Free Anne Jackson book and a collection of confessions.

noreply@blogger.com (Prodigal Jon) — Sat, 19 Sep 2009 10:01:00 +0000

The contest is closed. Thanks so much for the great comments. I'll have the winner posted soon.

You have to dig Anne Jackson. There’s not a rule or official decree I am aware of, but if you meet her or hear her speak or read her book, Mad Church Disease, it’s impossible not to dig her.

So when she told me she was writing a new book in the style of “Post Secret” in which folks like you and me could talk about the things you just can’t confess in church and put that in a beautifully designed book and beautifully designed website, my first thought was “awesome.”

OK, my first thought was “I’m so jealous I didn’t think of that idea.” And then I kicked a small woodland creature who skittered across my path as I walking to the mailbox.

But once I was able to get to my second thought which was, “what an awesome idea” I asked Anne if the readers of Stuff Christians Like could join conversation. She’s collecting ideas right this second on her site permissiontospeakfreely.com

So that brings us to the challenge of the day.

Simply put, what’s something you can’t confess in church? What is something true of your life that you’re afraid or embarrassed of ashamed to say in the confines of church?

Anne is going to give the author of her favorite comment a free autographed copy of her book, “Mad Church Disease.” And then, she’s going to read through all the other comments and maybe use some of them on her site in a book or in a million other ways that the ever creative Anne Jackson thinks of. I’ve told her ya’ll are awesome, so Anne is really excited to see what you have to say. And because your words might be printed somewhere, at the bottom of this post is the fancy legal jumbo you apparently have to put when you do these kind of things.

Comment on this post until Tuesday, Tuesday, September 22nd with a response to the question:
What’s something you can’t confess in church?

legal stuff they tell me i need to say and that i took from PS: By submitting information to this project, you grant Anne Jackson a perpetual, royalty-free license to use, reproduce, modify, publish, distribute, and otherwise exercise all copyright and publicity rights with respect to that information at its sole discretion, including storing it on my servers and incorporating it in other works in any media now known or later developed including without limitation published books. If you do not wish to grant me these rights, it is suggested that you do not submit information. Anne Jackson/Thomas Nelson reserves the right to select, edit and arrange submissions, and to remove information from the website at any time at its sole discretion.

#621. The Popcorn Collision

noreply@blogger.com (Prodigal Jon) — Fri, 18 Sep 2009 10:00:00 +0000

(Although I personally might hold the East Coast record for popcorn collisions, I've never been able to accurately describe what happens when two people have a prayer pile up. So when Lisa Colon DeLay, a very talented writer, agreed to guest post on that very topic I did cartwheels. I’m a big fan of her writing and I think you will be too. Here is her first and hopefully not last guest post on Stuff Christians Like. Enjoy.)

The Popcorn Collision
In true SCL style, I’ll mention an awkward event I’ve witnessed just too many times to go unsaid. Perhaps suggestions from this readership would be helpful to un-riddle this conundrum. I’ll refer to it as “The Popcorn Collision.”

The Popcorn Collision phenomenon happens within prayer circles, and can make folks pretty stinking nervous. Eyes will pop wide open and dart around the room, mid-prayer time–which most Christians realize is sinful. Prayer circle participants start wondering why the Holy Spirit has left the building, or why someone has not yielded properly to God. Something has gone quite wrong, and how it will end completely depends on what prayers decide to do next. The situation itself occurs when a gathered group is engaged in “Popcorn Prayer.” That is, short sentence prayers offered up in no particular order. The situation is obviously risky in itself, but in efforts to be Spirit-led, some Christians enjoy this spontaneous participation with God and each other, despite the dangers.

Suddenly, as if God is not a God of order, two people begin to talk to God at the same time. It’s as if chaos has entered through a window, and pounced. Shocked, both communicators stop simultaneously–more awkward still! They look at each other nervously. Someone has to be in the wrong, and everyone knows it. Perhaps one of them is not following the Holy Spirit’s leading. Now, which one is too eager, or jumping the gun, maybe trying to cover the dead air of prayer time up a bit? Maybe one, or–God forbid–even both of them are just trying to move prayer time along, without being prayerful. Suddenly, people sense the awkwardness in an acute fashion. A giggle or two erupts. Smirks crop up around the once virtuous circle. Maybe some shake their heads in disapproval.

Whatever happens, it becomes painfully obvious, in seconds that may feel like hours, that a Popcorn Collision has happened, and there is no taking it back. But now, what is to be done? Will prayer time be a flop? Is recovery possible? Sometimes, overcompensating creates the most horrible and ungodly of circumstances. It’s the thing the prayers may be dreading in the back of their spiritual minds. Yes, a second Popcorn Collision. It is the prayer equivalent to cornered bumper cars. Both prayers keep speaking at the same time, all the while convincing everyone in the room they aren’t listening to God’s still small voice at all! Some giggle, but some realize it’s all a cover up job.

The Aftermath
Sometimes, there is what I call a quick-thinking, wise Deferring Popper. He or she may realize it’s better to yield, and in some way say, “You go ahead, buddy,” and let the other person re-pop. Other times, a person I call a Super Kernel figures boldness will advance his or her pop-ability. He or she stops during the collision, but only at first. Then, they push forward to pop a prayer in a raised tone of voice, even confidence, which helps to assert kernel popping viability. The other person backs down, de-pops. Some realize this isn’t a movement of God, but only an extrovert running amuck. Others feel relieved that some order has been restored, no matter how it happened.

Woe to the groups who must witness the Double Super Kernel Showdown. I won’t discuss it here, but perhaps you can imagine the Prayer Popout Battle that could be in this case. The converse is, of course, Double Defer, and it is an extra awkward situation. It occurs far more frequently, probably because this action may be thought to contain more fruit of the Spirit. In Double Defer case, both prayers de-pop at the same time, and then re-pop again together. This may happen several times. Blushing ensues, and nervous laughter.

Failure to pop seems imminent, which puts out an air of unease, or even dread in the room, especially if a collision happens more than twice. Usually, almost by default, someone half-pops out a choppy prayer of some kind to avert having a dud incident. No one, I repeat, no one, wants a full out prayer dud in a prayer circle. It’s like a negating un-prayer, even an “anti-prayer,” for the group, and on some level everyone knows it. People would just an soon sneeze into their Bible, then want to live with a full out prayer dud imploding in their midst, without first trying to make a save.

Remedies for Popcorn Collisions
There are several schools of thought on the best way to avoid this kind of prayer mishap. Some say, establish ground rules, such as five to twenty seconds between prayers, plus a prayer opener and a prayer closer. Some say, some type of signal before prayers should be done. A deep breath before offering a prayer will curb interlopers and collisions, at the onset, but God help your group if you have asthmatics! Legend has it that one boy with bronchitis caused four Popcorn Collisions in just fifteen minutes, the poor lad. They called him “The Breather” for over eight months.

Others think that God can use us, even in our flawed humanness, and that these collisions aren’t really mistakes at all. We aren’t supposed to be perfect, just faithful. These people could be seen as indolent and unspiritual, and most end up listening to and enjoying secular music. But that’s not all that’s wrong with me. Have you witnessed Popcorn Collisions? Did I leave something out? What are your solution suggestions, or prayer ideas? Weigh in. Thanks, Jon! God Bless.

For more great stuff from Lisa Colón DeLay, check out her blog lifeasprayer.wordpress.com

#620. The sermon with 247 different points.

noreply@blogger.com (Prodigal Jon) — Thu, 17 Sep 2009 09:58:00 +0000

“Panic.”

That’s what I felt when North Point Community Church asked me to speak at their singles retreat. I was excited, certainly, but I was also terrified. North Point is Andy “freaking” Stanley. For years I’ve attended there and been in awe at the way they do things. They are like the Apple of churches to me and as I prepared my two messages, I felt violently under qualified to have my name associated with anything they do.

Part of the process was that I had to submit an outline with a fill in the blank structure before the retreat. I’ve never done that. I tend to just try to tell a story. At Cross Point Church I told three stories, did a little bit of the robot and wrapped it up. So when I sat down to write the outline for North Point, I entered into new territory, the territory of the “Over Pointer.”

Have you ever experienced a sermon by an Over Pointer, that curious species of Pastor who tends to pack 247 different points into one sermon? It’s possible this is just a Southern Baptist thing and that other denominations never suffer from this, but maybe it’s universal. Maybe the disease of over pointing is international. Regardless, it grabbed hold of me with a fierceness.

The outline I submitted to North Point for the “Date Less Jerks” speech (yes I know “fewer” is grammatically correct, but like a rapper, I focus on flow, not grammar) had 3 main points and about 42 sub points. It was supposed to be about 25 minutes long, which meant each point would get roughly 19.2 seconds of speech. I’m no math whiz, but I think that all adds up to a horrible sermon.

Fortunately, the staff at North Point saw my outline dilemma, recognized me as an Over Pointer and encouraged me to dial it back. But what about you, how do you spot an Over Pointer? How, upon entering a sanctuary, can you tell before the sermon even begins that you’re about to be over pointed?

The bulletin.

The secret to spotting an Over Pointer is to always check the bulletin. Here are the three things you want to look for:

1. Thickness or Girth
If they hand you a bulletin and it’s thicker than your wallet, you are in trouble my friend. If the person handing you the bulletin is visibly sweating and is wearing those carpal tunnel sleeves that people with wrist problems wear, it is on like donkey kong. You are about to be sermon noted like you’ve never been sermon noted before. I hope you brought a twelve pack of pens for all the note taking you’ve got in your very near future.

2. The amount of fill in the blanks
If the sermon notes look like a church version of the game “Mad Libs” and unfold like an accordion on paper that rivals the length of the scroll Jack Kerouac wrote “On the Road” on, you might be in trouble. My initial North Point outline had sentences like “A _________ is ______who ________ and _________ _______ your ________.” I would have made the punctuation a fill in the blank if I could have figured out a way to easily draw a line under a period. Brutal.

3. The Alphabet Sandwich
If you ever see numbers and letters spooning together in the sermon notes, get ready. There’s never any reason to break something down to points like 2B1, 2B2, and 2B3 with the numbers effectively serving as the bread in your alphabet sandwich. When you start to see letters and numbers frolicking across the page, you’re about to be over pointed. A sermon notes page should never look like a periodic table of the elements.

Those are the three warning signs, but I know what you’re thinking, “Jon, we don’t use bulletins at our church. Our minister doesn’t use sermon notes.”

Fear not, I’ve got you covered. In a situation like that, you want to find where the sound guy sits and watch him. If he’s doing yoga or pilates in order to warm up his arms in anticipation of the amount of times he’s going to press “Next” on powerpoint, buckle up. You are about to go on a fantastic voyage to the land of over pointing.

Has that ever happened to you?

Have you ever been over pointed?

What's the longest sermon you've experienced?

Hanging out with Conversant Life

noreply@blogger.com (Prodigal Jon) — Thu, 17 Sep 2009 09:54:00 +0000

Last Friday I had the opportunity to hang out with the guys over at Conversant Life. (Love that site, dig what they're doing, trying to figure out a way to do some stuff together.)

We taped a quick interview about Stuff Christians Like in the Biola University student union. I had a microphone clipped on to my collar that kind of made my v neck t-shirt look like it was worth 87 points on the Metrosexual worship leader scorecard.

I assure you that was not the case, but I can't assure you that wasn't some sort of cat climbing apparatus over my shoulder. Like a Cat Caboose or Feline Hotel or something. Click here to check it out.

#619. Offering grace and forgiveness exclusively to people named "me."

noreply@blogger.com (Prodigal Jon) — Wed, 16 Sep 2009 09:58:00 +0000

Kanye West deserves less grace and forgiveness than I got.

I don’t know the exact amount, unfortunately the Bible’s not terribly clear on measurements. I mean sure, I know Goliath was six cubits and a span, everyone knows that, but when it comes to doling out grace, there’s not a clear form of measurement.

Is grace a liquid? In the songs people sing about God’s love it’s always in the form of water, “fall down like rain,” “wash over me,” etc.

So let’s say that Kanye West deserves one less gallon of grace and forgiveness than I got.

Or maybe a jug. It’s hard to say what the precise amount is but that’s what I was thinking when I heard he ruined Taylor Swift’s moment at the Video Music Awards. After he walked on stage, and interrupted the nervous teenager to tell her about another performer who deserved the award more than she did, a few thoughts popped up. I didn't think about the whole situation a lot, on the Jon scale of thought I gave the incident more time than Salt and Vinegar Pringles but less than the new season of "So You Think You Can Dance." But here's what ran through my head:

“Kanye West always does that. He’s got a history of doing that kind of thing.”

“Kanye West probably did that on purpose, it was staged. He planned it.”

“Kanye West just wounded a teenager, a kid, that is horrible.”

“Anyone who supports him is dumb.”

“He’ll probably apologize but it won’t be real.”

And I felt pretty good hating on Kanye. I got a hit of that, “I’m not as bad as somebody else” drug. I felt better than him and told my wife the whole story with smugness.

But then I thought about it. That was a worst moment, staged or not, that was a mistake and I am so happy my worst mistakes were not televised.

Then I thought about Kanye the person, the son whose mom died. The broken man with a savior who is longing to see a glimpse of him on the road back to the farm. Then I thought about who I wanted to be in the prodigal son story, the older brother who condemns or the servant who helps plan the party? I know which one is easier. I know which one I usually run to. But this time I couldn’t.

Suddenly I didn’t like the first things I thought:

“Kanye West always does that. He’s got a history of doing that kind of thing.”
So do I. I’ve never committed a single sin, a single time. I am a repeat offender. I have a longer history with sin than Kanye does with running on stage at events. Have you ever repeated a sin more than once?

“Kanye West probably did that on purpose, it was staged. He planned it.”
My worst moments were planned. I didn’t fall down the stairs and suddenly find myself landing in a heap of unexpected garbage at the bottom. I made plans. I was deliberate. I set things up that at the time seemed to be what I needed. I did the things that crippled my life on purpose.

“Kanye West just wounded a teenager, a kid, that is horrible.”
He did and it’s inexcusable, but I wounded my own kids, not a 19-year old stranger. I hurt my own kids by working 70 hour work weeks and chasing money instead of them and mortgaging everything that mattered about being a dad. I did that.

“Anyone who supports him is dumb.”
Do you have to support to show love? Do you have to condone to offer grace and forgiveness? Clearly Proverbs spells out a million reasons you shouldn’t support fools and foolish behavior and what Kanye did was foolish. And it'd be equally dumb to judge people for judging Kanye. Are there only two options though? We love him which means we’re pro “running on stage and hurting people” or we hate him? Can’t we disagree with the behavior and offer love to the person? (I think I just invented the phrase, “Love the sinner, hate the sin.” I should put that on t-shirts.)

“He’ll probably apologize but it won’t be real.”
According to whose standards? Mine? Is that what Christ says is the second most important commandment in Matthew 22:39 “Love your neighbor as yourself, only if their apology is legitimate and you feel that their repentance is real?” Or is it written, “Rebuke your neighbor as yourself?” Or is love the thing we’re supposed to do? And let’s be honest, what are the chances that I get to heaven and God says, “You offered too many hurting people grace. You over graced the world Jon. That is whack.”

The more I thought about it, the harder it was to hate Kanye.

So I tweeted and wrote on facebook:

“If we all had our worst mistakes televised we'd give Kanye West grace instead of hate.”

Some people got mad and defriended me (worst verb ever) and some people were cool with that idea. I understand both reactions. I'm not justifying a dumb mistake from Kanye or desupporting Taylor Swift (second worst verb ever). I can only tell you what my experience was because it’s 100% of the experiences I had yesterday. When I heard the story about Kanye, I judged him. I hated on him. I did not correct him or try to offer wise counsel, I hated.

Maybe you didn’t.

Maybe you laughed at how silly and insignificant the whole thing was because it's just a bunch of celebrities, who cares. Maybe you threw on Kanye's “Jesus Walks” and got down like the awkward girl from the rich part of town that inexplicably moves to the inner city high school and has to learn how to dance to survive some sort of all girl gang but ends up falling in love with a tough on the outside by soft and tender on the inside street youth while learning the valuable lesson that if you believe in yourself, anything is possible.

Maybe that was your reaction.

Mine was hate.

And I hate that.

And I love that God loves me like He loves Kanye.

Because we are both in desperate need of it.

Winners of the Stuff Christians Like book.

noreply@blogger.com (Prodigal Jon) — Wed, 16 Sep 2009 09:52:00 +0000

Wow, more than 2,800 people took the Stuff Christians Like reader poll. I can't thank you enough for being willing to share your time and ideas with me about what the future of this site could look like.

Below are the five winners I picked randomly.

If you're one of these people, please email your mailing address to theacuffs@yahoo.com with "Survey winner" in the subject line so that I can make sure you receive a copy of "The Dude Abides" and eventually an autographed copy of the Stuff Christians Like book when it comes out in April.

Thanks again.

Jon

Survey Winners
Audrey SEPTEMBER 1, 2009 5:58 AM
kevin SEPTEMBER 1, 2009 7:34 AM
Lundie SEPTEMBER 1, 2009 9:46 AM
Mandy Strickland SEPTEMBER 2, 2009 9:44 AM
Jonah said... September 7, 2009 12:02 PM

#618. Forgetting the 5 commandments of church league sports.

noreply@blogger.com (Prodigal Jon) — Tue, 15 Sep 2009 10:00:00 +0000

Although I can play Frisbee all day and that's God favorite sport, I've recently realized that I suck at certain other athletic events. Although I love the idea of basketball, I've somehow developed this awkward running lay up that looks like how the nerd would do it in an after school movie about the jock who taught the nerd to play basketball while learning science and passing the test so he could play in the big game against their cross town rivals, who were of course named the Sharks.

When I throw a baseball it kind of looks like I'm doing an amazingly realistic impersonation of how someone from another planet who has never seen a baseball would throw it. Whenever I toss the football around, after throwing it about three times I always end up trying to talk the other guys I’m with into a kicking contest instead since most everyone is horrible at punting and at least I can hide my whackness that way.

All in all, it turns out that I'm not the fantastic athlete I like to think I am. So instead of one day hitting a home run and winning the church softball league, I feel my gift might instead lie in words. That perhaps though I will never dunk for Jesus, I can at least come up with a set of ideas that we all agree on, a five commandments of church sports leagues if you will. And that's exactly what I did.

The Five Commandments of Church League Sports

1. Thou Shalt Not Make Every Dropped Fly Ball a "Teachable Moment."
If I strikeout and we lose the game and I return dejected to the dugout, please don’t feel compelled to turn that into a "teachable moment." For one thing, I'm not sure the analogy you're making between me and King David is accurate. I mean he hit Goliath. Technically speaking he connected with his target. For another thing, if you use every strikeout or dropped ball in the outfield as a chance to teach me, you're going to need about 19 million sports/God illustrations because I'm horrible at softball. That’s going to exhaust both of us.

2. Thou Shalt Not Work Out Elder Issues on the Field.
Yeah, I agree, there's a bit of a power play going on between the elders and the pastoral search committee right now. Does that mean you should slide into second base cleats first in order to drive home that you're concerned the current candidate for senior pastor has a surprisingly liberal take on Baptism? Doubtful.

3. Thou Shalt Not Invite People to Church Based strictly on their athletic prowess. No ringers please. I am convinced the Fonti brothers, an Italian family that looked like Lou Ferrigno, only bigger, were invited to our church when I was a kid because they looked like they could swing a mean bat. And they did, people had to start parking in different parking lots because they hit so many homeruns. But be careful if you ever meet someone and say, "How tall are you? About 6' 5"? How's your vertical leap? You ever think about coming to church? I think you'd really like Jesus. And dunking, how do you feel about dunking? You enjoy doing that?"

4. Thou Shalt Invent Your Own Christian Swear Words
I personally am trying to bring the phrase, "Oh, Fiddlesticks" back in but so far no one is biting. But if you do find yourself having a moment where you just got hit in the crotch by a ball or someone missed a key free throw during church league basketball, please bust out a Christian swear word. "Oh my stars!" "Shazham," or even "Melon Farmer" will do.

5. Thou Shalt Not Start the Pastor just Because He's the Pastor
This is not a spiritual leadership moment. This is the bottom of the 9th inning. This is the championship game against another church in our community. We need someone who can close out this game and if the pastor has no curveball, always forgets which hand to put his glove on and secretly sees throwing nice big hittable balls as a way to "love his neighbor," keep him in the dugout. Let him pray while someone good pitches.

Those are my five commandments for church league sports, but I really feel like this list needs ten.

Which one would you add?

Did you ever play church league sports?

What commandment is missing?

#617. Flannelgraph

noreply@blogger.com (Prodigal Jon) — Mon, 14 Sep 2009 10:01:00 +0000

Hi,

It's me, flannelgraph. Yes, that flannelgraph, the Sunday School board that you used to put flannel shaped characters like Noah and Moses on to tell Bible stories.

What have you been up to? It's been a long time since we've seen each other. You look good. Have you been working out? I hear good things about that P90X program but you know me, I'll always be soft around the edges.

I haven't been doing much lately, but I was going through some of my old VBS pictures the other day and it made me think of you. We had some wild times back then didn't we? I was on top of the church world back in the late eighties. Seriously, I don't know if they keep a chart of top-selling church supplies but if they did, I owned first place like INXS's album “Kick.” Remember that one? That thing was packed with awesomeness, kind of like me. "New Sensation,” “Devil Inside,” “Need You Tonight," every song on that album was a winner.

They even had the perfect slow jam, "Never Tear Us Apart." That one hurts to listen to a little right now because something has torn us apart. Something came between you and I. Come on, stop walking away, I just want to talk. Let’s stop playing games. We both know what it is. There's no use pretending. We both know what wrecked our relationship.

Whiteboards.

I get it. I do, I do, I just didn't see it coming. I understand they're easy to draw on, you can project a computer image on them and kids can draw all over them in Sunday School, but are they soft to the touch? Are they fuzzy fun? Can you tell me they really make you happy? Are you cool with having your hands get all smudgy with ink? Don’t make me quote Justin Timberlake Jr., Jesse McCartney, and ask you, “how do you sleep?”

You’re not even listening. I don’t even know why I came here today. Do you know where I spend most of my time? Inside a box at the bottom of the supply closet next to the secret bathroom at church. It's dark in here. No one ever really visits the supply closet. A few weeks ago a teenager looking for a Frisbee found me and with complete and utter confusion said, "What is this old thing?"

That “cut like a knife,” if I could borrow a line from Canada’s John Cougar Mellencamp, Bryan Adams. I'm not relevant any more. Look at me, babbling with 80s references. I'm not postmodern, whatever that means. Kids these days are growing up without flannel. Doesn't that make you sad? It doesn't? OK.

Well I won't bother you anymore. I'll leave you alone with your shiny new friend Mr. Whiteboard. Just promise me you won't forget what we once had. When you're ready to come home to Flannel Country, please know that like Richard Marx sang, I'll be "right here waiting for you."

Forever offering the softer side of Sunday School,

Flannelgraph