“Good luck with the 10K this weekend!”

Well, I mean, I don’t personally believe in luck, but you might. I believe that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. But how am I supposed to say that to you, my colleague from work, in the break room?

“I hope God works all things for the good of those who love him this weekend at your 10K race!”

That’s a mouthful, but seriously, I probably shouldn’t be saying “good luck.” Some Christians don’t even say “Pot Lucks.” They call them “Pot Blessings” which kind of sounds like the headline from an issue of the marijuana magazine “High Times” but I’m only digging myself into a deeper hole of awkwardness at this point.

Would it be weird if I told you “Have a blessed 10K?” Does that make me sound like I’m the kind of person that would throw holy water on you during the race or hand you communion wine at one of those drink stands along the course instead of Gatorade? And do I have to over pronounce the “ed” at the end of that word like some people do? Do I say “blessed” like I would say “messed” or do I need to pronounce it “bless-ed.” I always feel like some random guy named Ed is getting hooked up when people do that.

This is getting so complicated. From here on out, I’m dropping luck, I’m dropping bless-ed and am just going to say “Yay running!” and throw both hands into the air with spirit fingers. Wait, are spirit fingers related to the Holy Spirit or are those bad too? Ohhh, slippery slope, slippery slope indeed. I’ll go with jazz hands then, definitely jazz hands.

Pranks aren’t by nature unique to Christianity. That I’m aware of, there’s no recorded history of C.S. Lewis pantsing J.R.R. Tolkien. Pranks by themselves don’t really fit the formula of this site, but apologizing after? Serving penance for a church-related prank that went horribly wrong or even horribly right? That’s us through and through.

But the truth is, you don’t need this post today. You should file it away for Thursday, the day after April Fool’s Day. If you’re going to pull some shenanigans or tom foolery or perhaps even get in a donnybrook, this Wednesday is your day. Live it up.

But after, when your youth minister or Senior Pastor or local reporter stumbles upon the prank you have perpetuated, when like Richard Marx* you realize “you should have known better” than to fit that many bees into so small a sleeping bag, you’ll be glad this post so clearly laid out the categories of prank apologies based on the terrol level color coded system the United States uses.

Category 1: Green – Low Risk Prank
Hey look at that, you stuck some forks in someone’s yard, but you didn’t break them off because that felt too mean and unChristlike. And you called a few people from church and hung up on them when they answered the phone. That’s adorable. This barely requires an apology.
Apology Required: Facebook Status Change
Change your facebook status to something like, “Sorry about the prank. Hope nobody’s feelings got hurt.” Or “Kids will be kids.”

Category 2: Blue – General Risk Prank
That’s not going to grow back. I’m just saying, when you put that much on at once, and mix it with that other thing, wow, you’re leaving a permanent impression. I mean it’s not that big, but neighbors are going to see it for at least the next six months.
Apology Required: Email
You better send the victim an email. Nothing long, just a few lines about your deep regret for your actions and how your immaturity sometimes gets the better of you and at the end of the day you both love Jesus, so no hard feelings.

Category 3: Yellow – Significant Risk Prank
Prank Elders are kind of like elephants, they never forget and I’m pretty sure that guy isn’t going to. Where do you even get those? They’re just so fast and jumpy. I’m assuming you know a guy that knows a guy, but is there any chance that guy knows a guy that can get them out of the elder’s house? It’s not going to be easy because they seem so motivated and reproductive but maybe we could smoke them out?
Apology Required: Phone Call
Forget the Internet, you’ve entered into real apology time now. Pick up the phone and be ready to outline what you did as well as the three things you learned from this tragic mistake of a prank you pulled. (If you can’t think of three things, feel free to use one of my go to lines when I’ve bombed, “Turns out I’m dumb.” I keep learning that lesson and it’s always a nice way to round out a list.)

Category 4: Orange – High Risk Prank
Yeah, but you knew it was the Senior Pastor’s house right? I’ve got to assume you did because even the youth minister was in on this one. On a positive note, at least we know the fire department can find his house. And their response time, wow! Very impressive. I told you that was highly flammable, but to hear the fire chief use the phrase “river of lava,” wow. You’re going to need to get a paper route to pay this one back or raise money online or hold a car wash at Chick-fil-A.
Apology Required: Face to Face
This goes beyond a simple phone call. You might need to hand write a note, call ahead to set up the official apology and then bring over some sort of casserole. This apology is going to be as complicated as the prank was. The general rule for a face to face apology is that you have to spend three minutes apologizing for every one minute you spent pulling off the prank. So if it took you 30 minutes to do the prank, expect 90 minutes of “sorry” in your future.

Category 5: Red – Severe Risk Prank
The community will heal. I mean we’re a very resilient group of people. We’ve faced hardship before and this, that thing you did to all of us in one fell swoop, we’ll get through that. And the cats will come back someday. They are a proud animal and probably left out of embarrassment more than anything else. They’ll come back. I know they will.
Apology Required: Speech to the Church Congregation
May God have mercy on your soul if you ever have to apologize to the whole congregation from the pulpit. I’ve never had to do this, but if you find yourself in this position, whatever you do, don’t take questions from the crowd. Don’t open the meeting up to Q&A. You are going to come out on the losing end of this one. And I’m not telling you to fake cry, but you might want to fake cry.

Hopefully this list will make April 2nd easier for all of us that decide to pull a prank on April 1st.

What’s the best prank you ever took part in?

What’s the best prank someone pulled on you?

*That’s Richard Marx reference number two for the year. I promised to make three in 2009. I’m ahead of schedule!

(Wow, we already hit number 1 on the list and the book has been submitted to Zondervan. I don’t normally post on Sundays but I wanted to finish the list and start writing new ideas on Monday. I chose this one as my favorite because I thought it had some funny moments and it was really interesting to read the comments from different people that either scored themselves or scored the worship leaders at their church. Expect some fresh Stuff Christians Like tomorrow.)

There are really only two reasons I wanted to write this post:

1. The first post was just an appetizer.
I wrote about this subject a few months ago when 12 people were reading the site but I just barely touched on it. I didn’t do it justice and people have reminded me that there is more to be said on this pivotal subject. So this is like the Timbaland Remix.

2. No one has quantified this phenomenon
There are some things in life that are concrete and true. For instance, it is a fact that “You’re all I want for Christmas” by Mariah Carey and “Christmas in Hollis” by Run DMC are fantastic songs. No argument there. But when you tell someone about your church, there’s not a standard system to describe the degree of metrosexuality your worship leader possesses. Wouldn’t it be awesome to say, “You’ll love my church and the music. Our worship leader scored a 78 on the SCL Metro Test.”

Don’t answer that last question. It was rhetorical. As a service to churches around the world, here is an easy rating system by which to analyze to what degree your worship leader is a metrosexual.

1. Has a faux hawk hair style = +1

2. Has more product in his hair than your wife = +1

3. Has Rob Bell, black rimmed glasses = +1

4. They are not prescription, but just for effect = +2

5. Attends the Catalyst Conference = +3

6. Performs at the Catalyst Conference = +10

7. Owns Puma, Vans or Diesel sneakers = +2 per each pair

8. Wears jeans on stage = +1

9. Wears designer jeans on stage = +2

10. Wears Wrangler or Rustler jeans on stage = -3

11. Has a goatee = +2

12. Wears one of those Castro revolution looking hats = +2

13. Drinks coffee on stage = +1

14. Drinks some kind of coffee you did not know existed = +2

15. Brings a French Press on stage and makes his own coffee during service = +5

16. Has a handlebar mustache = -3

17. Good at Frisbee but hates getting all “sweaty” = +1

18. Has a haircut that covers one of his eyes while singing = +1

19. Owns a white belt = +2

20. Owns suspenders = -3

21. Wears a scarf with a t-shirt = +1

22. Wears a winter knit hat even in the summer = +2

23. You think he covered a My Chemical Romance song last week = +3

24. Drives an Audi or VW, silver of course = +2

25. Uses the words, “postmodern, relevant” or “emergent” nonstop = +2

26. Cringes a little when people say the “H word.” (Hymnal) = +3

27. Has ever said some form of the phrase, “That song is so 1990s” = +1

28. Owns a Grizzly Adams red and black flannel shirt = -2

29. Named his kid after a color or a number = +2

30. References Norwegian punk bands you’ve never heard of = +2

31. Wears a tie = -1

32. Wears a tie as a belt = +2

33. Looks as if he might exfoliate = +2

34. Has a man bag or European Carry All = +2

35. Brings said bag on stage with him = +2

36. Has a tattoo = +2

37. Has a visible tattoo = +4

38. Wife accompanies him on stage and plays tambourine = -4

39. Was formerly in a punk new wave band = +2

40. Knows the names of all the people on the scripted MTV show, “the Hills” = +3

41. Refuses to drink anything but Vitamin Water = +2

42. Your wife ever says, “he needs a barrette for his hair.” = +2

43. Has a nickname with “the” in it, as in “the edge,” = +2

44. Owns every Nooma video = +2

45. Has a soul patch = +3

46. Won’t play barefoot on stage until he gets a pedicure = +2

47. Refers to California as “the left coast” = +2

48. Currently subscribes to Dwell or Details magazine = +2

49. Owns a pair of lady jeans = +2

50. Twitters you from his iPhone = +2

51. His toddler dresses cooler than you = +2

52. He wears graphic t-shirts over button down, long sleeve shirts = +2

53. Ever says “we got a hot mic here” = -4

54. Shops at the Gap = 0

55. Shops at Urban Outfitters = +2

I scored one of the worship leaders at North Point and he did pretty well. At some point I will do a lady version, but for right now, I feel like a 55 item list of analyzing worship leaders is enough to earn me a new batch of “you are weird” emails, and at the end of the day, that’s all I can ask for.

What does your worship leader score?

To interpret the scores and know what they mean, check out the official score sheet.

“The end” is a fun thing to type and I recently did that in the manuscript for Stuff Christians Like right before I turned it into Zondervan. In the next few weeks/months, a really talented guy named Andy will help me edit it and then I’ll get some wicked shiny veneers and a headshot of me looking thoughtfully into the distance with my unibrowed head resting gently on my fist for a photo that will take up the entire front cover. OK, only the first half of that sentence is true.

The book will be available in early 2010. In the meantime, I am really eager to get back to posting new stuff on Stuff Christians Like. I know we’ve never hung out or played racquetball together (which is apparently my go to example of things you do with people you know) but I’ve missed you guys during this favorite posts countdown.

And the site isn’t done. I’ve never written about one concept so consistently in my life, but I feel like we’ve barely scratched the surface on Stuff Christians Like. God and faith and life and laughter are too layered to be covered in a year. Sure, we’ll have to collectively find ways to keep it fresh but I feel like God is a long way from turning off this fire hose of fun.

Thanks to everyone that prayed for the book writing experience. That was new territory for me and I really appreciate the kindness of your support. The book exists because you read this site. There are loads of other talented writers out there, and although I’ve hustled to the best of my abilities, I want to be honest about why Stuff Christians Like is even on anyone’s radar. It’s because you read it and share it and link to it.

Please know that in the next year I am going to do everything I can to thank you for the gift of your readership. (Expect more free stuff, me doing a better job emailing people back, tagging the site so it’s easier to find stuff etc.)

Please know that I’m going to be speaking a lot more at churches and conferences this fall and hope to give you the rest of the Skittles I still have from October 2008.

Please know that the second sentence of Monday’s post is:
“That I’m aware of, there’s no recorded history of C.S. Lewis pantsing J.R.R. Tolkien.”

And it only gets more ridiculous from there.

Year 2 of Stuff Christians Like starts Monday.

Side hugs, razzle dazzle, and finished manuscripts,

Jon

If Men’s Health magazine was true, you would never need to buy more than one issue. If the articles that promised flat abs and less stress and better sex really worked as promised, you’d never need to have a subscription because every issue is the exact same thing. This was the thought I had while standing at the magazine rack at Wal-Mart watching my daughters read My Little Pony books. (Long live Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie by the way. Toola-Roola is a punk. I don’t even know what Toola-Roola is into, at least Rainbow Dash is all about rainbows.)

As I stood there though, I noticed something else kind of weird. The promises that the front cover of men’s magazines make were eerily similar to the promises that the back cover of Christian books make. So I thought it might be fun to play a little guessing game and see if you can figure out which is which:

1. “Build your perfect life and strip away stress for good”
A. Front Cover of Men’s Magazine
B. Back Cover of Christian Book

2. “The Secret to Effortless Success”
A. Front Cover of Men’s Magazine
B. Back Cover of Christian Book

3. “Total Health Starts Here”
A. Front Cover of Men’s Magazine
B. Back Cover of Christian Book

4. “967 Secrets of Happiness”
A. Front Cover of Men’s Magazine
B. Back Cover of Christian Book

5. “Supercharge Your Brain”
A. Front Cover of Men’s Magazine
B. Back Cover of Christian Book

6. “Keep Yourself Happy”
A. Front Cover of Men’s Magazine
B. Back Cover of Christian Book

7. “Gain control over your mind”
A. Front Cover of Men’s Magazine
B. Back Cover of Christian Book

8. “Uncover the proven process that will lead to a life of success and total fulfillment”
A. Front Cover of Men’s Magazine
B. Back Cover of Christian Book

9. “The Anatomy of a Successful Life”
A. Front Cover of Men’s Magazine
B. Back Cover of Christian Book

10. “Stress Proof Your Brain “
A. Front Cover of Men’s Magazine
B. Back Cover of Christian Book

11. “Living Life without Limits”
A. Front Cover of Men’s Magazine
B. Back Cover of Christian Book

12. “10 keys to fulfilling your destiny”
A. Front Cover of Men’s Magazine
B. Back Cover of Christian Book

13. “10 Essential Success Secrets”
A. Front Cover of Men’s Magazine
B. Back Cover of Christian Book

14. “Hold on to your hair – 5 new cures”
A. Front Cover of Men’s Magazine
B. Back Cover of Christian Book

OK, that last one was easy, but it reminded me of that Richard Marx song, “Hold on to the Night” and I promised myself I’d make at least three Richard Marx references on this site in 2009, sooooo one down. (Click here for the answers to the quiz.)

I didn’t use the titles of the books because I’m not trying to denigrate those authors. I haven’t read what’s inside the books and ultimately, I’m not sure what this little exercise means. But standing there that day in the midst of My Little Pony land, seeing how similar the two types of headlines were, and knowing that publishers of both items used those sentences because they knew those would motivate people to buy the products, I had to question my own motivations.

Am I that different from the world?

I’ve got God, the very power of Christ inside of me, shouldn’t my desires be different and not so interchangeable?

Do I ever go to God with a laundry list of better demands? Give me a better marriage, a better ministry, a better life, a better job, a better everything?

Do I chase the blessings of God sometimes more than the presence?

Do I ever treat God like a really good self help guru that is there to meet my needs?

Do I look weird scribbling this all down in a small moleskine notebook by the magazine rack in Wal-Mart?

Yes, yes I do. But I don’t want God to simply be a new vehicle for the things I want. I want God to be what I want.

I want Him to be enough.

p.s. This one was fairly recent but as far as favorite posts go, this one had to be on my list.

Last year, someone gave my family an “Elf on the Shelf.” If you’re not familiar with it, it’s essentially a small elf in a box and a book. The book tells you that you’re supposed to hide the elf each night during the holiday season and let your kids find it. It’s magic or a messenger of Santa or something. It was wildly popular last year and is probably continuing to sell well this Christmas too.

But as I started to think about the whole “real meaning of Christmas” debate and “is Santa bad” discussion that you almost are required by law to have if you’re a Christian blogger, I started to think about that elf. He was just sitting there with a smug look on his face perched on the fireplace mantle looming over our nativity scene below on the hearth. Instead of the traditional Santa vs. Jesus discussion, I began to imagine what would happen if that elf ever ran into the characters from the nativity scene. What would that conversation look like? I present you:

Elf on the shelf meets the characters from the nativity scene.

Wise Man 1: “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Who are you?

Elf on the Shelf: “I’m the Elf on the Shelf.”

Wise Man 1: “I can see that. It’s right there on your box. I can read, kind of goes along with the territory. I’m a ‘wise man.’ But what are you doing here?”

Elf on the Shelf: “I came to spread holiday cheer and tell people about the magic of Santa Claus.”

Wise Man 1: “That sentence is so wrong on so many levels I don’t even know where to begin. First of all, please help me understand what ‘holiday cheer’ is. Is that some sort of glitter? Like a pixy dust or giggle spray or other elf razzle dazzle?

Wise Man 2: “Slow down Myrrh man. No need to get sarcastic.”

Wise Man 1: “You stay out of this Gold Guy and don’t call me Myrrh man. It’s ‘M&M.’ No one knows what Myrrh even is. I sound like some sort of under the sea creature. I knew I should have brought the gold. Everyone loves you. My gift is judged as slightly better than paprika or cinnamon. Awesome.”

Wise Man 3: “Myrrh man, Christmas is not about the gifts we give, it’s first and foremost about the gift we received. Jesus Christ.”

Wise Man 1: “I know I know, Frankincense Fellow, it’s just that you don’t understand the pressure I’m under with the Myrrh reputation. At least your gift sounds like Frankenstein and is easy to remember. When people say my gift, they never know where to finish the word, they always just kind of trail off and say, Mryhhhhhhhh. But this isn’t about me, this is about this punk elf.”

Elf on the Shelf: “I’m Elf on the Shelf.”

Wise Man 1: “Here you go again. There’s no shelf in the nativity scene and therefore no elf. I’ve got some good news and some bad news for you. The good news is I’m wearing my traveling robes and won’t be able to tune you up myself. The bad news is the shepherds are always up for a beat down.”

Shepherd 1: “What’s going on?”

Wise Man 1: “This Peter Pan looking doll over here is trying to distract us from the birth of Christ. He’s trying to steal some of sweet baby Jesus’ thunder.”

Shepherd 2: “Oh, that’s not happening on my watch. It’s on like Donkey Kong.”

Elf on the Shelf: “On like Donkey Kong? Isn’t that violent? Can’t we all just giggle and watch my Will Ferrell movie, “Elf?”

Shepherd 3: “Agreed, tossing you out of this nativity scene like a bouncer at a bar is violent but people overestimate how clean and well behaved we shepherds were back in the day. We were like longshoreman. Think of us less as caretakers of sheep and more as Pastoral Hooligans. We live under the stars and wrestle bears for fun. David was a shepherd and he cut Goliath’s head off.”

Elf on the Shelf: “Gulp.”

Shepherd 1: “Don’t worry we’re not going to do that to you. We are going to bounce you out of town like a super ball though. Drummer boy, hit me up with my theme song.”

Elf on the Shelf: “Wait, the drummer boy wasn’t at the birth of Christ either. Why isn’t he getting the bum rush?”

Shepherd 1: “Because Jesus is funky and loves a good beat. Plus, every superhero needs a theme song.”

Wise Man 1: “You’re a superhero now? How’d that happen? I must have missed that in the Bible.”

Shepherd 1: “Easy Myrrh-lin, the magician of questionable gifts. According to Matthew you guys didn’t even show up at the manger. And at least you have a name, I’m just lumped in as a “shepherd.” I’ve got no identity. I had to create my own, with a theme song.

Wise Man 1: “Good grief!”

Elf on the Shelf: “That’s from Charlie Brown’s Christmas!”

Shepherd 1: “You’re still here? Let’s do this thing.”

(Commence elf beat down.)

I’m not sure if that’s exactly how the great elf/nativity scene clash of 2008 happened, but it’s how it happened in my head.

I had an easier time connecting with God in the movie, “Man on Fire” than I did in “The Passion of the Christ.” That doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. I mean the Mel Gibson movie made roughly 786 gazillion dollars and was loved by Christians the world over. Man on Fire is a bloody revenge film with very little God. How can I write that first sentence?

I think that the God element in Man on Fire was a strong undercurrent that caught me off guard. It surprised me and engaged me in an unexpected way. I enjoyed the Passion of the Christ. I thought it was good. But I went in expecting God and faith and Christianity. So when it appeared I was ready for it. And in communication, one of the ways to grab someone is to show instead of tell. Instead of saying, “this character is cool” in a movie, you show the audience tangible ways that exhibit how the character is cool. That way, the audience gets to write their own story instead of just digesting your story. Man on Fire showed me God’s love, the Passion of the Christ told me God’s love. But that still doesn’t really justify thinking Man on Fire is a better picture of Christ than the Passion of the Christ. So let me explain a little, but please know I am about to ruin the end of Man on Fire.

In the film, Denzel Washington plays the role of Creasy, an alcoholic black ops military man in Mexico City serving as a bodyguard for a little girl named Pita. Pita is a blonde sprite of a seven-year-old played by the ubiquitous Dakota Fanning. Throughout the first half of the film we watch as Creasy hits rock bottom, only to find a new reason to live in Pita. Along the way, we see him spend increasing amounts of time in the Bible.

But because this is at the core a revenge film, Pita is kidnapped after a piano lesson. Creasy is shot multiple times and the doctors say that without a month of rest, he will die. While Creasy is trapped in bed, Pita is executed by the kidnappers. He is devastated, his world collapsing in memories of Pita laughing and playing. He leaves the hospital and decides to track down the killers.

In a hinge scene, the young mother of Pita asks Creasy what he is going to do. His response is simple, “What I do best, I’m going to kill em. Anyone that was involved, anyone that profited from it, anyone that opens their eyes at me.” This statement serves as the doorway to a veritable house of pain and suffering. The violence is shocking in both its graphicness and its creativity.

At this point, my initial idea that I saw the love of Christ in this movie seems impossible. We do not serve a God that would torture a man with a cigarette lighter or plant a plastic explosive inside another kidnapper. Our God is not cruel. I think that’s worthy of argument though, at least from an Old Testament point of view. Would the Egyptian mothers that woke to find their first born children dead in their beds agree that God can not be cruel? Would the residents of Sodom, with flesh ripped apart by sulfur falling from the sky agree that God is not violent? I’m not saying these things were not justified. I just think that maybe we make too light of the fury and might of God.

After cutting a swath of death through Mexico City, Creasy finds the pregnant wife and brother of the villain, simply referred to as “The Voice.” The Voice asks him on the phone, “How much do you want?” Creasy responds by saying “Your brother wants to speak to you, hold on” at which point he shoots off all the fingers of the brother’s hand with a shotgun. “I’m going to take your family apart piece by piece. You understand me? Piece by piece. I don’t want your money. You understand me? I want you!” It’s numbing really, the brother tied up to a pole with a bloody stump of a hand, the pregnant wife wailing. But that’s when grace first makes an appearance. The Voice calls back and says “I will give you a life for a life. I will give you her life for your life.”

The camera spins on a confused Creasy as he struggles with the idea that Pita is still alive. Suddenly the violence, the rage, the wrath of Creasy sinks out of his face. In the final scene, Creasy, Pita’s mother and the kidnapper’s brother drive to an abandoned bridge in the middle of the Mexican countryside. With a bullet ridden body and a weariness that is almost three dimensional, Creasy walks up the bridge. When the kidnappers see him waiting there, they pull a hooded Pita out of the car. They remove her dirty blindfold and with eyes not accustomed to light, she squints toward the bridge. With the sound of a child witnessing an unlocked gate in hell, she screams “Creasy” and runs to the bridge. Creasy, unable to run from all the pain, waits. She jumps into his arms, and with hands dotted with blood and scars he cradles her. This is what follows:

Creasy: “Are you alright? They didn’t hurt you?”

Pita: Shakes her head no.

Creasy: Laughing and smiling in relief, “Hi.” More laughter. “Alright your mother is waiting for
you; she’s right down at the end of the bridge. OK, you go home.”

Pita: “OK. Where are you going?”

Creasy: “I’m going home too.”

Pita runs to the arms of her mother. A red laser scope lands on Creasy’s heart, which he covers with a hand that is covered in scars. He throws up his hands and walks slowly to the kidnappers. He stumbles to his knees as they drag him into a car. Pita cries watching Creasy surrender to certain death. Creasy closes his eyes in the car and dies.

I missed it the first ten times I saw the movie. Missed that I’m Pita. I’ve lived most of my life under the stairs in a dark, dirty cage. But unlike Pita, this is the place I deserve. For although she did not ask to be kidnapped or receive this experience as a consequence of her actions, I did. If this were the story of my life, justice would have already been served. The prisoner’s life is the life I deserve. But God is like Creasy. In Isaiah 30:18 it says “he rises to show you compassion.”

The new life that Creasy finds when he meets Pita is but a glimpse at how God delights in us. And it is this love, this affection that drives Him to rescue us. But is He violent? Is there anything He wouldn’t do to rescue me and rescue you? I don’t think so. To the violence question we need only look to verses like Numbers 24:8 in which the Israelites, God’s people, are said to “devour hostile nations and break their bones in pieces.” That was describing work and battles that the Lord had blessed.

Is that any less graphic than anything that happens in “Man on Fire?” God’s love has no limits. If violence is what it would take to rescue me, I have little doubt that He would be violent. That He would remove an entire planet in a flood to save the righteous family of Noah. And even though He is blessed with the ability to open the core of the earth with His fury, it is love and ultimate surrender that shows us the true depth of His heart. In the movie, Creasy could have easily continued killing the kidnapper’s family. The brother could have been tortured, the pregnant wife and unborn child of the kidnapper murdered. But it wasn’t about revenge, it was about rescue. And when Pita was discovered to be alive, he stopped everything. He surrendered and walked willingly into a certain death.

In his last moments, before the cross, the undeniable power of Christ is revealed one more time as he heals one of the Roman guard’s ears. And yet he denies it. He surrenders to his captors. That’s how I felt about the last scene in Man on Fire. Creasy had just blown off all the fingers of the brother. He had the pregnant wife and a shotgun and a mouth full of loud, angry words. But the second he knew Pita was alive, he surrendered.

I’ve written about it before because the scene really shook me. It made me realize, this is the Christ I serve. Powerful, fearful, able to heal the sick and blind, capable of walking on water itself. But willing to give it all up upon realizing I am found. Willing to pay the ransom with his own life. Willing to free me from a prison of my own design. And whether he’s crucified on a cross or forced to walk across a bridge in Mexico, he’s willing to do it all over again for me. And for you.

p.s. I liked Passion. I thought it was a well done movie. The most powerful scene to me was when Gibson showed the boy Jesus and the man Jesus stumble to the ground. My one criticism is that it felt really full. I like movies that leave me room to climb in and Passion felt bursting at the seams so it was hard for me to engage with it in some scenes.

I took tap dancing in high school. And ballroom and tango and a variety of other dances. I thought about telling you that in Shrewsbury, Massachusetts, it was cool for Seniors in high school to take tap dancing, but who is going to believe that? I was and continue to be, a dork. Taking all those dance lessons however did give me an appreciation for rhythm. I wouldn’t necessarily say an understanding of it, but at least I can recognize it. Which is why I always cringe a little when a worship leader says, “Everybody clap together” at the beginning of a song.

Instead of marching forward in a united rhythm, what usually happens in church sounds like someone lit off a box of hand firecrackers. Smacks and slaps and claps just ringing out randomly with no sense of where the song is headed. So this morning, after witnessing several claps die merciless deaths yesterday at church, I thought I would analysis how the clap goes so wrong so quickly. Here is what I think happens, laid out in a convenient step by step approach:

1. We get the “call to arms.”
This is when the worship leader tells everyone in the crowd to start clapping. Often, he or she, will raise their hands above their head to give you a visual of how the whole thing is supposed to go down. It’s an exciting moment, the world is so fresh and new. We’re all a little intoxicated on the sense of potential and possibility. So together, we start clapping.

2. We realize that there’s no leader.
Eventually, the worship leader stops clapping above their head. Either they start playing an instrument or just grab their microphone in kind of a dramatic, Creed-like moment. Suddenly, we in the crowd realize no one is leading this clap-a-thon. We scan the stage for direction but no one bails us out. The main singer is focused on the song and the back up singers are doing some sort of rhythmic clapping that is beyond us. It’s like the PhD program of clapping. At least 15% of people quit clapping right here.

3. We’ll give you the first verse and that’s it.
Most people feel pretty generous if they clap for the entire verse. We won’t go the whole song, but at least we pitched in. It’s the equivalent of serving at church by stacking up chairs. You still feel like you gave something back to the church, but you didn’t have to interact with anyone or be overtly compassionate. 40% of people quit clapping here.

4. We find out the chorus is faster.
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Just when some of us have decided to clap for the second verse too, we run into a chorus that defies all logic. It’s suddenly faster than the verse was and we don’t know what to do. Do speed up our clapping too? Do we just stop clapping and pick back up on the second verse? Somebody, please, a little help. 20% of people quit here.

5. We run into a slow bridge.
This is the opposite of the chorus issue. Now you slow the song down and get a little emotional. And we’re clapping, loud and proud but suddenly it’s quiet and we’re the one guy banging away on our hands while you whisper, “the blood of Jesus.” This is no good. 10% of people quit here.

6. We finish the song.
At last this crazy ride is over, the clapping is done. We’re finished and can feel good about what we have accomplished. But just know, if you’re going to ask us to clap on another song, about 50% of us are just going to flat out refuse. We’re all clapped out.

That’s what we’re feeling in the audience. I trust that any worship leaders reading this will let us know how they feel. Do you notice I’ve stopped clapping? Do you care that I’ve stopped clapping? Do you talk about how bad my clapping is when you get together with other worship leaders to play racquetball?

I am probably super late on this video. When you don’t have text messaging on your phone you often hear about cool things 19 months after everyone else. So if that is the case here, then pardon me while I go back to churning butter.

But if you haven’t seen this, this is probably the best use of LED art and sheep I’ve ever seen. Easily top five.

This has nothing to do with Christianity except maybe the sheep metaphor works here. I’ll let you figure out where in the Bible it talks about border collies wearing LED vests so they look like fireworks running through a field of sheep. I hope you enjoy this brief break as much as I did.

Working hard on the book, occasionally laughing at sheep,

Jon

Like a lot of things on this site, you’ll probably never hear someone deem something, “good enough for the church.” But if you’ve spent any amount of time in the church, chances are you’ve bumped up against this. One of the top worship leaders in the country drove this home for me when he recently said the reason people liked his work was that he was “from the recording industry and had never believed something was good enough for the church.”

I think this happens for a number of reasons. Sometimes it is financial. Not everyone has the budget of a mega church. So they’ll ask for the “ministry rate” when it comes to work. But often that means, “we’d like your B- quality work.” Sometimes it’s a matter of resources. If volunteers are tithing their time it’s hard to do a massive musical with just 10% of someone’s commitment. Other times it’s a product of having the right person in the wrong ministry. Like the example I gave in an earlier post about the church that didn’t want to hurt the unskilled guitar player’s feelings so they just kept turning his speaker down lower and lower. Sometimes we misinterpret our gifts and end up serving in a way we’re not supposed to.

Those are all symptoms though and don’t get at the core issue. (Core issue is such a counseling term.) At the heart of it, the reason the church is not known as being a global leader in creativity and excellence is pretty simple. We missed God’s love letter to artists.

I missed it about a dozen times myself. But while doing a two-year walk through of a one year read the whole Bible study plan, I stumbled upon it in Exodus.

There are two parts and both are pretty subtle though I’ve written about them before. The first takes place in Exodus 30 and 31. In 30, God anoints Aaron and consecrates the priests. It’s a big deal, with fragrant spices, sacred oil and a sense of the holy that is almost tangible through the pages. And after it’s over, do you know who God focuses on next? Do you know who comes second? The artists.

I had to read that a few times until I believed. There in the desert, as God establishes His people, as He sets into motion His very heart, the artists fall directly after the priests. Maybe that’s mind-blowing only to me, but I find that stunning. Of all the professions, of all the people in the desert, it is the artists He speaks to next. Is there a more beautiful reflection of the importance He places on art and creativity?

We’ve made God military in a lot of our culture. We march in God’s army. We have men’s groups that are based on battle, but He doesn’t focus on the warriors after the priests. He doesn’t say the strength and might are most important after Aaron and the priests. He says creativity is.

Here is what 31:3 says:

“and I have filled him (Bezalel) with the Spirit of God, with skill, ability and knowledge in all kinds of crafts- to make artistic designs for work in gold, silver and bronze, to cut and set stones, to work in wood, and to engage in all kinds of craftsmanship.”

This is not a cold, boring, vanilla God speaking. This is the first and ultimate patron of the arts sounding a gong for anyone that has a scrap of creativity in them. But I said this love letter to artists has two parts.

The second part continues in chapter 36. As they prepare to build the ark, God issues a call to the artists in the desert. Verse 2 says:

“Then Moses summoned Bezalel and Oholiab and every skilled person to whom the Lord had given ability and who was willing to come and do the work.”

That verse punched me in the stomach. If you read it, you realize there were only two conditions to building the ark as an artist. You had to have the skill and you had to be willing. That means that some people refused the call and sat on their hands in the desert instead. They could have built God’s ark, His temple, but instead chose to sit in the desert and waste their talent.

When I prayed about that, I felt like God told me I had the same opportunity to build his temple everyday. I replied, “what are you talking about? You’re crazy.” (He’s big enough for me to say honest things like that.) But then He reminded me that in 1 Corinthians 6:19 it says the body is the temple. He reminded me that every time I use my skills to help someone, I am helping rebuild their temple.

Foof. That’s big. That’s scary. That’s why I am writing today. I’ve sat in the desert for years wasting what meager writing skills I have. I’ve sat in a pile of sand, while the people in my life are broken and hurting, hoping someone will help them rebuild their temple. And I just can’t sit in the desert anymore.

The book I’m writing for Zondervan right now might be my first and my last chance to publish something. This might all be a fad. People might stop reading this site tomorrow and disappear. I might not go on tour to churches and conferences and all that. I want to, I really do, but ultimately it’s not about that. It’s about rebuilding temples. And as long as I keep doing that, as long as I keep reading and responding to God’s love letter to artists, everything else is going to take care of itself.