Taken from StuffChristiansLike.net

Last night on Twitter, I felt like the Stuff Christians Like bat signal lit up.

Out of nowhere, about 10 different people linked me to a new site and essentially said,Prodigaljohn has to talk about this. When I went to the site, I realized that other bloggers had already talked about it. Months ago.

So on second thought, it wasn’t like the bat signal was lit. It was more like the Nightwing signal was lit, the superhero Robin became after he broke up with Batman. (Why didn’t I date much in high school? Girls like comic book knowledge right? Ladies?)

The site my friends linked me to was billed as offering a Christian version of Twitter. Being somewhat of an expert on Christians taking popular secular ideas and putting a God spin on them, four thoughts instantly jumped into my head:

1. Don’t do a Christian alternative of a medium.

Doing a different, holy version of Twitter is like creating a Christian version of the telephone. Twitter and facebook are mediums. They’re technologies used for communication. If the communication is about Christianity, then they’re being used as a Christian medium. If the communication is about goat herding in Pineapple, Alabama, then they’re being used as a goat herding medium. Twitter is not inherently evil or inherently Christian. Mediums are often like mannequins, the clothes you put on them define them. (It feels almost impossible not to make a Mannequin movie joke right here.)

2. Don’t do a Christian alternative to an empty box.

Twitter is a pull medium not a push medium. If I want you to read my tweets and you don’t want to, I can’t do anything about that if you refuse to follow me. The only way to see my content is to follow me or pull what I write toward you. So I could never say, “I’m so sick of all the filth in my twitter stream,” because if there’s filth, it means I decided to follow those people. You are your own Twitter Editor. If you’ve got a problem on Twitter, write an angry letter to the Editor, who is you. (That sentence read like it was written by artist MC Escher)

3. The public announcement of an unfollow is the biggest jerk move on Twitter.

That doesn’t even have anything to do with this article, but I wanted to make sure we’re all clear about that. It’s like putting a break up notice in the engagement/wedding section of the newspaper to let everyone know you dumped someone. Don’t be that guy.

4. Don’t do a Christian alternative that can’t be better than the original.

Someone sent me a link once to a Christian version of Google. I like that concept. As a dad with young daughters, the Internet can be a pretty scary place. I’ve also personally used and loved services like Safe Eyes that filter the Internet. I dig that idea, but there’s no way a Christian Google can work better and smarter than Google. Be careful about creating a Christian version that offers a lot less functionality than the original. I feel good about putting a filter on my computer, tweaking my settings on Google and knowing that a team of 300 of the best engineers and programmers are hammering away at making Google great each day. I don’t mean this in regards to the Christian Google, but in general, I’m not sure that when we create cheap, broken knockoffs of originals, we shine a lot of glory onto the creator.

I do have a hope for any Christian that decides to do an alternative version of something. I hope it grows into something wild and big and fun. I created Stuff Christians Like because I wanted to talk specifically about our penchant for putting God flavor on popular secular ideas and then making them our own. It’s the first post on this site, a blog that clearly rips off the original Stuff White People Like blog. I didn’t think there would be a book down the road. I didn’t think we’d build two kindergartens in Vietnam or raise over $30,000 for mosquito nets in Uganda. This Christian Alternative grew into something different than I anticipated. And that’s my hope for the Christian Twitter and other projects that might be in the works right now.

What do you think?

Do we need Christian alternatives to things?

Taken from “StuffChristiansLike.net”

“If I get a chance to knock somebody out, I’m going to knock them out and take what they give me. They give me a helmet, I’m going to use it.”

That’s what a linebacker for the Miami Dolphins said Wednesday about the NFL trying to crack down on concussion inducing helmet hits. And he’s got a point, they do give him a helmet but I don’t think he took that thought far enough. For instance, they also give you cleats. I’ve got one word for you, “stabbing.” Have you considered just leaping in the air like the guy from movie “Only the Strong” and kicking people? Look at him in that poster, who wouldn’t be afraid of a man in pleated jeans jumping at you menacingly?

Come to think of it, they also give you exercise bikes to ride on the sideline in between plays so you don’t go cold. What if you kicked off the stands of one of the bikes and just drove it right on the field? Forget tackling, do wheelies or bunny hops on opponents.

 I should probably be an NFL coach with all the wisdom I’m able to spit, but it’s not easy to be a coach. For one thing you have to wear sweater vests constantly and that’s not awesome. Plus players sometimes get arrested and you have to pretend that you didn’t suspect a guy who grew up without a dad and any sense of the word “no,” would make mistakes when handed $10 million and an invitation to the most dangerous place on the planet, “outside a strip club.” No, it’s not an easy job, but I still think it’s easier than something my dad and many of you have done.

I am of course talking about starting a church. That is one of the most difficult jobs on the planet. The church my dad started, Grace Baptist, in Hudson, Massachusetts turns 25 this weekend which is 907 years old in church planting terms. Instead of our typical guest post I thought I would pay tribute to all those folks, pastors and friends alike, who have done the near impossible. Many, many of you have been part of church plants over the years. And if you have, here are a few things you might recognize.

15 things that happen when you start a church.

1. You will meet in weird places that don’t feel exactly like church. Our church rocked it in an old car wash for a while.

2. You don’t get to choose your first members. My dad’s first member was a 6’5” homeless man named Jack who used to get sick in the middle of service in what was a small, poorly acoustically prepared for giant men to get sick, car wash.

3. Your oldest members will occasionally bring their own tambourines to service and unexpectedly go up front to play them. To slow songs.

4. A whole bunch of people will think you’re too conservative.

5. A whole bunch of people will think you’re too radical.

6. At some point, someone will complain that the ex-stripper who sings at church is not wearing enough clothing. You will swear they did not teach you how to handle that exact situation in seminary.

7. You will accidentally do a bait and switch, promising a fun pizza event that turns into a get saved right this second moment, that the local paper eviscerates you for.

8. People in your new city will wonder what your pastor does the rest of the week since he only really “works” one day a week.

9. Your pastor will think about quitting approximately 84 times. He will think he is the only pastor who feels that way.

10. Someone on a youth group trip will break a limb. You will trust in the almighty signed parental waiver.

11. A crazy drunk guy will try to break into your pastor’s car to sleep through the cold New England night, will have a nurse falsely call the pastor and say he’s committed suicide and will inexplicably give one of the pastor’s kids a pet snake. (Is that one too specific? Probably.)

12. You will meet in a school and become some sort of ninja black belt at stacking and unstacking chairs.

13. You will be surprised at how few people it takes to find yourself wrapped up in church politics.

14. You will be not so secretly jealous of other churches in your town who are able to have bouncey things at their Vacation Bible Schools.

15. You will laugh at how wildly off base all your fancy plans were for your community but how perfectly God provides at just the right time.

That list could be a bajillion points long and I hope you’ll add to it. But today, I just want to say thank you.

Thanks to the church planters who do the crazy. Who do the impossible. Who do the difficult.

In Ohio and Tanzania, California and Canada, thank you for starting churches.

Have you ever been part of a church plant?

Recently, at an airport, I saw an article about a church on the cover of Details Magazine. Since I believe this was the first church-related article they’ve done since 1981, I was surprised. The headline was:

“The hottest pickup spot in Hollywood … is a church.”

Turns out they did an expose on Reality LA, a growing church out in California. It’s apparently, according to Details Magazine, a great place to meet singles. It made me interested though, how come we haven’t talked much about church and dating on Stuff Christians Like? There are a handful of articles, but with more than 850, that’s not a lot.

So let’s talk about dating in the context of church today.

Have you ever taken a date to church?

Have you ever met a boyfriend or girlfriend at church?

Have you ever had an awkward moment where church and dating intersected?

Is the singles group at your church thriving or do people act like being single is some sort of disease that should be cured with a marriage ASAP?

Regardless of if you’ve been married for 10 years or are dating right now, what do you think about the church and dating?

#taken from StuffChristiansLike.net

Christian blogging law requires that you write a post about what world famous author Anne Rice recently said about Christianity.

I wasn’t going to, but Cornelius, the white dove who brings me official Christian blogging rules, made it pretty clear I had little choice.

So what did Anne Rice, who wrote about vampires long before it was all twilighty and cool, say? Here is what she posted on Facebook:

 “For those who care, and I understand if you don’t: Today I quit being a Christian. I’m out. I remain committed to Christ as always but not to being “Christian” or to being part of Christianity. It’s simply impossible for me to “belong” to this quarrelsome, hostile, disputatious, and deservedly infamous group. For ten years, I’ve tried. I’ve failed. I’m an outsider. My conscience will allow nothing else.

As I said below, I quit being a Christian. I’m out. In the name of Christ, I refuse to be anti-gay. I refuse to be anti-feminist. I refuse to be anti-artificial birth control. I refuse to be anti-Democrat. I refuse to be anti-secular humanism. I refuse to be anti-science. I refuse to be anti-life. In the name of Christ, I quit Christianity and being Christian. Amen.”

Yowsa! I’m not sure she could have received more heat if she had said, “My next book is going to be about Harry Potter using a Golden Compass to figure out the DaVinci Code.” (Anyone else notice that she used 7 “anti” statements, the most Christiany number of all. Coincidence?)

But nonetheless, in addition to the heat, I heard these 3 reactions:

1. Wait, what? Anne Rice is a Christian?

I would say surprise was probably the biggest reaction I heard. Finding out Anne Rice considered herself a Christian was a shock to a lot of people. It reminded me of a satirical headline I once read on the Onion that said, “Listerine invents, cures gingivitis.” I felt like news headlines about this story should have read, “Anne Rice is a Christian, now not a Christian.” A lot of people who read the Rice comments felt like they were being punked by Mr. Demi Moore. (And how powerful is Ashton that a show cancelled five years ago is still in our cultural vernacular? No one ever says, “Aww man, I got cop rocked.”)

2. Christian Democrats continue to get no love.

If a famous Christian came out in a major way on a site more popular than Google and said, “If you are a Christian, you have to be a Republican,” folks would get fired up. So why weren’t more people upset that Anne Rice said, “I refuse to be Anti-Democrat?” For certain, one need only look to the comments on last week’s SCL post that discussed politics to see what she’s talking about, but to say you have to renounce Christianity to be a Democrat seems as extreme of a stance as the girls who said they couldn’t date me in college because they were dating God. All I wanted was a blooming onion from The Outback, I’m not sure we needed Yahweh involved in that.

3. Christian is just a label.

Donald Miller wrote a great piece that touched on this point. And it’s true, Christian is a label referenced in the Bible, but not by Christ. It’s just a label. But so is “no longer a Christian.” So is “retired Christian” or “outsider.” They might be different than “Christian” and carry less of the stigma from some of the whackness of Christianity in the past, but anytime humans are involved, particularly broken humans, some degree of nonsense is bound to occur.

I ultimately thought that Anne opened up some great dialog on her facebook page and a good conversation ensued. I even read her first Jesus book and really liked it. The thing that stung the most in her post though was the statement that she refused to be “anti-life.” Maybe that was meant to say, “anti-war,” although none of her other statements were vague. She specified “artificial birth control,” so I can’t imagine “life” was supposed to translate into “war.” But what’s tough about that isn’t Anne Rice specifically, it’s that people think that.

The second half of John 10:10 finds Christ saying, “I have come that they may have life and have it to the full.” As Christians, as followers of Christ, as outsiders committed to Christ, we are called to have life. Big life. And regardless of what you think about labels, I hate to think that our faith has become associated with the antithesis of life.

What do you think?

Have you ever had mixed emotions about the label “Christian?”

Taken from “StuffChristiansLike.net”

I like salt & vinegar Pringles. They are clearly the most superior flavor. (Extreme Dill is like putting a belligerent pickle in your mouth.)

I like uniball micro pens. I can’t prove this, but when you use one, what you write is 14% better than with a ballpoint. I’m sorry, that’s just true.

I like college ruled notebooks. Wide ruled are for lazy people who don’t know how to respect a margin.

But you know what I like more than all of those things put together?

Professional athletes who quit sports and become pastors.

Is there anything better than that? I was reminded of this a few days ago when Glen Coffee, a 23-year-old running back, quit the 49ers. Here is what he said:

“It was a struggle for a long time. Actually when I look back I feel I never should have entered the draft in the first place. Football was no longer my dream. I found Christ in college. It changed my views on everything. But I still was a football player because it was expected of me, it was something I did all my life. I was basically wasting the (49ers’) time.”

Wow, that is wild, isn’t? The NFL is the dream for so many people. It is the light at the end of a difficult tunnel, the finish line to a hope that often starts as early as Pop Warner football. And this guy and several others have walked away from it.

But every time I hear about something like this, I have the following questions:

1. If you quit a professional sport and become a minister, can you still play in the church softball league and just crush it like your name is Gary V non-stop?

2. If you quit the NFL and become a minister, do you ever want to go Terry Tate in the office and tackle an elder who is giving you static?

3. Is it hard to give up all that money? My dad is a pastor and I am almost positive he didn’t make a few million dollars each year or have a bonus structure for each person he baptized.

4. If you quit the NFL, do you have to, by Christian law, make the greatest exercise Bible verse your “life verse?” You know, Philippians 4:13, the weightlifting verse, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”

5. It’s it comforting or distracting if I bring one of those giant foam fingers to the first sermon you preach?

6. Do you ever talk with Mase, the former rapper and protégé of Diddy? Puff Daddy, Sean John, Sean Puffy Combs, Bartholomew Winston III? He quit rap when he was at the top and became a minister.

7. Is it true that if you had a blinged out grill there’s enough gold in it that you could melt it down and mold it into an offering basket?

8. Do people ever tell you, “You were a light in a dark spot like the NFL. You should have stayed instead of quitting!” And if so, do you ever sleeper hold these people?

It’s doubtful that Glen Coffee will answer these questions for me and I don’t know if he ever even had a grill. A lot of unanswered questions. One thing I do know though is that in addition to making you say uhh, Master P could probably outfit a megachurch with grill wrought offering baskets.

Dare to dream Jon Acuff, dare to dream.

(I don’t write about politics that often because it’s not a topic I can write about very well. There are so many good political blogs that I tend to avoid it. Plus, political comments usually get really ugly, really quickly. But my friend Rachel is going to change that. Today, she checks in with a funny look at the secret life of Christian liberals. Enjoy.)

Last month, Jon Acuff wrote a piece for CNN.com about Christians treating secular media like Satan’s newspaper. A faithful reader of both SCL and The New York Times, I laughed along until about midway through the article when Jon joked that Christians are “pretty sure Fox News is baptizing people in their lobby,” at which point I completely lost my sense of humor.

It is an unspoken rule among liberals that only one Jon is allowed to make us laugh about Fox News—and it’s Stewart, not Acuff.

But how was Jon supposed to know? He’s an evangelical Christian, which means he is statistically obligated to have only one liberal friend.

So as a Christian and an occasional democrat…(yes, we do exist)…I’ve decided to be that friend, offering SCL a brief list of stuff liberal progressive Christians like:

1. Calling ourselves “progressive” instead of “liberal’

The word liberal (like evolution and sex) carries with it negative connotations in the Christian subculture, and is often used in the context of play-by-play accounts from a pastors or Sunday school teachers about the dangers of competitive slippery slope sliding. Progressive is better. People like Jesus and Donald Miller are considered progressive. Progressive communicates the fact that we’re not headed down, but forward…and just a little to the left.

2. Assuming our daily fair-trade latte from Starbucks makes us committed to social justice

I may drive a gas-guzzling clunker to Wal-mart to buy a trunk full of out-of season fruit, but I’m certain that the steam pouring off of my free trade Cinnamon Dolce Latte is a sweet aroma to God.

3. Agreeing with the Democratic Party on everything except abortion

I am one of many progressive Christians in the unhappy predicament of supporting things like health care reform and environmental stewardship, while remaining steadfastly pro-life. To compensate for our insecurity about this situation, we progressives like to try to one-up conservative pro-lifers by noting that we’re also against the death penalty and war. This does little to actually advance the conversation, which usually ends with people yelling at one another about who is being more judgmental. Sorry about that.

4. NPR

To borrow a metaphor from a friend, we progressives are pretty sure that Ira Glass is mystically distributing the Eucharist through the airwaves during “This American Life.”

So, what would you add to the list? What else do progressive Christians like? (Conservatives, please don’t say “going to hell,” as it kinda hurts our feelings and messes with the whole Christian unity thing.)

(Rachel Held Evans is a liberal progressive Christian from Dayton, Tennessee, home of the Scopes Monkey Trial of 1925. Her first book, “Evolving in Monkey Town” officially releases with Zondervan in July, but is currently available on Amazon. She blogs at rachelheldevans.com.)

(I’m sorting through dozens of awesome guest posts right now. One that came my way is from Michael Kelly. You might remember him from the prosperity gospel post. He writes great stuff and this is proof of that. Enjoy.)

Perhaps you’ve been in an awkward situation like this one. You are leaving a conversation about Lady GaGa and Skittles. It was an enjoyable time, and you felt like you held your own nicely. People appreciated your wit and cultural relevance. But though you are adept in conversations like these, you find yourself totally lost in the atrium of the church lobby.

You’ve finally found a church where the give-away coffee isn’t Foldgers but Starbucks and where the donuts aren’t from Publix but Krispy Kreme. But in the midst of the pre-worship snacking, you often discover that you stuff yourself full of fried batter so you don’t have to reveal your lack of spiritual vocabulary and competence to those around you:

Person 1: “This morning I was reading about the relationship between the Solomonic dynasty and reflecting on the kingdom implications regarding the centrality of the covenantal promises.”

You: [Take a bite and nod.]

Person 2: “Really. That sounds intriguing. But does the authorship of 2 Kings play any part in such an interpretation? Recent discoveries lead me to believe that the temple dimensions might have more to do with the new Jerusalem than the old.”

You: [Another bite.]

Person 3: “You know, Chrystostom reflected on the consummation of such a kingdom – more specifically, the pneumatological implications as revealed in the dedicatory prayer.”

You: “This donut is good.”

Let’s see if we can avoid those extra calories, and at the same time, make sure that you’re the life of the pre-church party.

1. Be a name-dropper, but be the right name –dropper.

Anybody can talk about Mark Driscoll or Tim Keller. Those guys are in more places than vampire TV shows. So be careful when you whip out an “according to Driscoll…” statement. Much safer to go older. Much, much older. Thomas Aquinas is your friend. So is Tertullian. And when you need to drop the Ace of Spiritual Spades, bring a little Augustine. Go big, or go home.

For example: “I see what you’re saying. But I think Augustine might disagree.” Then just walk away. Don’t look back.

2. Make adjectives out of nouns.

Words can be played with. You can take pretty much any word and make it into a verb or adjective. To do so, especially with a reflective pause mid-sentence, will give the absolute assurance to any listener that you know exactly what you’re talking about.

For example: “I appreciate the missionalizing of the narrative text so much.”

Or, to combine point 1 and point 2: “I find myself becoming more and more (reflective pause here) Tertullianed as time goes on.

3. Claim an exemption to the conversation.

Because we are all divided up into believing camps, a big word describing your personal doctrinal tendencies can allow you to save face and get out of an awkward conversation. You might consider becoming a “premillineal dispensationalist.” Or perhaps you subscribe to “pneumatological ecclesiology.” Great. The longer the better. With a long enough word, you can shut down the conversation.

For example: “I’d love to join in this conversation, but I’m a premillennial dispensationalist. So I think you know what I think.” Bam.

Not so tough, is it? Use the suggestions liberally in order to bolster your spiritual competency (or at least the impression of it).

Have you ever felt out of place in a church conversation?

(For more from Michael check out his blog.

Taken From StuffChristiansLike.net

As I’ve confessed before, my wife drives us home from church and I sit in the back seat with the kids. We do this because we go to a megachurch and until construction of a new bridge is finished, our church parking lot is akin to Mad Max and the Terrordome. Also, I’m a jerk and have the distinct ability to cut someone off mere minutes after hearing a sermon about grace.

I’m not the only one who has a hard time applying the lessons of a sermon once you walk outside of church, but a few weeks ago I experienced something completely different …

I actually immediately applied what I heard in a sermon. I don’t even mean in the parking lot, I mean in the bathroom.

John Woodall had preached about our need to “take the low place.” It was essentially a call for us to humble ourselves and allow other people to take the place of honor.

Now normally, the post sermon bathroom is a crazy scene reminiscent of the parking lot. Two doors feed into it and people mill around waiting to jump in an open stall since there’s no established lines in there. Most people are kind but occasionally you’ll get some line jumpers who aren’t afraid to push around a church crowd. And then you casually bump someone and they totally flop like a World Cup player. A pastoral care staff member red cards you and for the rest of the year you have to use the bathroom outside in the parking lot. It’s embarrassing. (I really feel like there’s an inappropriate “turn the other cheek” joke in here somewhere.)

But this Sunday, this Sunday was unbelievable. No one wanted to step up to the urinal. The line actually ground to a halt because no one was willing to go first. I told the guy next to me, “Go ahead, I’m taking the low place.” It was perhaps the fastest sermon to life moment recorded in the history of mankind. (To be honest, I also called a guy who cut me a “No listening to sermon sinner,” but I did it in “Christian Love” and followed it up with a quick “bless his heart” so it’s all good.)

Has that ever happened to you?

Have you ever immediately applied what you learned in a sermon to your life?

Or do you forget instantly?

This was posted on StuffChristiansLike.net, I thought it was a good lesson.

“You don’t need novocaine. I’m just going to use this drill to shape your tooth a little.”

My dentist told me that yesterday. If I didn’t have a complicated contraption in my mouth at the time, I would have replied, “You’re using a high powered drill to shape my tooth and you don’t feel like that requires novocaine? Seriously? Novocaine was meant for moments like this like the Kardashians were meant to date professional athletes.”

 I didn’t say that though and he proceeded to drill. Instead of drugs I just went to my “happy place,” which is currently the Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal Orlando.

I went to the dentist in an emergency because my teeth have been killing me for a few days. One in particular feels like it sustained a shock greater than the Bachelor and his “love” interest “breaking up.”

My dentist took one look at my mouth and saw the problem. Stress. I’ve been grinding my teeth at night while I sleep. Wrestling and clenching my jaw in anxiety. And I know why.

These have been some crazy days.

My oldest daughter is entering the first grade. I’m writing a second book. CNN is letting me share the gospel on their site. Some fun opportunities and ugly challenges that make my head spin have popped up. And to be honest with you, I kind of want God to use some sort of voodoo on the whole situation.

I want to click ruby red slippers and wake up with everything figured out. I want the wisdom of the journey without the walking. But life doesn’t work that way and neither does God. This is something I reminded of every time I read the story of Joseph.

We know his story. He was sold into slavery by his brothers. He was wrongly thrown into prison. He interpreted Pharaoh’s dream with God’s guidance and became the second most powerful man in Egypt. We know that, but a counselor once forced me to look at that story with different eyes.

He said part of what’s amazing about Joseph is not just where he ended up but where he came from. If you look at his family tree, it is littered with funk. It is a recipe for generational sin.

Abraham lied and prostituted his wife. Not once, but twice. He doubted God’s ability to provide a child so severely that he started another family with his maidservant. Isaac repeated the same mistake by whoring out his wife too. He also created a household where he had a favorite son and his wife had a different one. Jacob and Esau were a mess, with Jacob stealing Esau’s birthright. Jacob then proceeds to repeat his father’s mistake by creating a favorite son, Joseph.

One can only wonder what would have happened to Joseph if he had stayed in that environment. Credited with perhaps being the cockiest Israelite ever, chances are he would have been a mess if he stayed at home parading about in an “I’m better than you v-neck rainbow robe.” But he didn’t stay home and he didn’t wreck his life by repeating the same mistakes as his family. He turned things around. So how did Joseph transform into an awe-inspiring man of God in charge of Egypt?

It’s simple, he suffered. He was sold into slavery. He spent years in a dungeon. He hit his bottom and found God waiting to lift him up. He was refined by the trials and tribulations of his life.

I do not like suffering. I do not like hard times or wish them upon anyone. I think God works through blessings too and that going through suffering is not the answer to all of life’s challenges. But in my 34 years, I cannot dismiss the clarity of God’s voice when all other distractions are removed from my life in the middle of a crisis.

And when I think about suffering, I am required by Christian blogger law to write about someone I’ve written about before, Job. I want to look at my own periods of confusion like Job did in chapter 23:9-10:

When he is at work in the north, I do not see him;

when he turns to the south, I catch no glimpse of him.

But he knows the way that I take;

when he has tested me, I will come forth as gold.

How did Joseph break the dysfunction that had hurt his family for generations?

He came forth as gold.

Being shaped is never easy. Becoming gold is never as easy or as quick as I would like it to be. Have you ever felt that way? Whether it’s a job that is slowly wearing you down or a relationship that feels tangled or a dream that is dying on the vine as you work somewhere to pay the bills, life is not always easy. And to be honest, there are days when I want to yell, “Where are you God? I catch no glimpse of you!”

But the truth for me and the truth for you, is that he is at work.

Even if we do not see him. Even if we catch no glimpse of him. Even if the testing weighs heavy, he is in motion. He is unchanging. He is relentless with his grace and mercy and love.

He knows the way we take.

And he will bring us forth as gold.

(Curtis Honeycutt is ridiculous. Every now and then he emails me the funniest things. I love the countless guest posts he has done on SCL and hope you dig this one too.)

So You Think You Can Ush?

Are you qualified to be an usher? No, not the Usher. Those qualifications include: Is your outfit ridiculous? Are you in the club lookin’ so conspicuous? Do you refer to Hotlanta as “A-Town”? If so, you might be qualified to be Usher. If you’re wondering more about becoming an usher at church, read on.

This is a serious job in the Sunday morning volunteer lineup, and for years, I’ve lost more than a few hours of sleep pondering if push came to shove, would I have the necessary chops to get my ush on? Well, to put my mind at ease, and maybe yours too, I’ve written a guide called “So You Think You Can Ush?”

If you can simultaneously shake hands, hand out bulletins, and give Jolly Ranchers to kids (+2 points)

If you banter so well your friends call you “Banter Claus” (+5 points)

If you shake hands so strongly, guys in the WWE created a submission hold based on it called “The Usher Crusher” (-2 points)

If you have ever dislodged an offering train wreck (+3 points)

If you like to throw the offering plate like a Frisbee (-3 points)

If you have your own custom-molded earpiece for your walkie-talkie (+4 points)

If you’ve never ever looked into the offering plate to see how much your friend gives, for fear you might turn into a skeleton like in Indiana Jones with the Ark of the Covenant (+10 points)

If you can signal to the pastor he’s out of time and he wraps it up (+5 points)

If you can signal to the pastor he’s out of time and he gets his second wind (-5 points)

If you are currently keeping your points tally on last weekend’s bulletin (+3 points)

If you can simultaneously make latecomers feel guilty and welcome with one look (I’ve heard Blue Steel does the trick) (+11 points)

If you can get people to sit on the front row (I’ve heard this is just a legend, but my cousin’s good friend’s younger sister saw it happen once) (+10finity points)

If you can balance 5 trays of grape juice cups without spilling (+5 points and +1 for each extra)

If, in an effort to “go green”, you decide to re-use the tiny grape juice cups next week (-5 points)

If you stay in on Saturday nights to memorize Sunday’s bulletin (+8 points)

If you stay in on Saturday nights to draw pictures in Sunday’s bulletin (-8 points)

If you think sitting down is for wimps (+4 points)

If you fantasize about ushing on a Segway (-4 points)

If you fantasize about ushing on a horse and giving people pony rides to their seats (+16 points…I’d love to experience this firsthand…if your church does this, let me know and I’ll come)

If you make a sign that says “You must be this tall to experience big church this week” in an effort to limit the number of crying baby disruptions (-3 points, but your head’s in the right spot)

Okay, you’ve tallied your score, so let’s see how you did:

0-10 points: You probably don’t like people. You would make a disastrously bad usher even at an online church.

11-20 points: If it came down to it, you could fill in without anyone noticing, but you may want to have some hand warmers on standby.

21-30 points: The head usher should watch his back, because you’re gunning for the #1 spot. You can almost see your name embossed on a magnetic nametag with the words “LEAD WELCOMER” under it.

31+ points: You ushering would be like if Chuck Norris played soccer…totally overqualified. I mean, that guy can KICK.

What did I leave out? What are some more usher qualifications?

(For more great stuff from Curtis, check out his blog, Get Compelled)