Erwin McManus, an author and minister at Mosaic in California, has this theory that second generation Christians leave the church because they’re offered a boring faith. The life their parents offer them with God is dull and monotonous and vanilla. Whereas the world is seen as fun and wild and an adventure. I think he’s right. Somewhere along the way Christianity turned into the “safe approach” to life. What was once wild and free and raw in the Bible became kind of domesticated. Look at the biggest Christian radio station in Atlanta. Their motto is “Safe for the whole family.” They don’t focus on the quality of the music or the enjoyment you’ll get from listening to the station. They just tell you that if you listen, everything will be safe. I don’t want my faith to be that way and I don’t think God does either. Love is a dangerous idea. Grace is a dangerous idea. Forgiveness is the kind of idea that will mess your life up, for the better, but there’s nothing safe about loving your enemy. That’s what I want for my life. Let’s not be safe. Let’s be real and raw and alive.

Of all the juices, grape is the one that we have the strangest relationship with. I mean, it’s delicious, refreshing and delightful, but we’ve also made it the blood of our Lord and Savior. That’s a big responsibility to put on grapes. Have you ever thought about that? How do the other fruits feel? Pomegranate is the hot fruit right now (trust me dragonfruit is next) but it’s not closely associated with the blood of Jesus Christ. But for us Christians grape juice is, at least those that don’t take wine at church. Can you participate in communion and then ever cool off with a tall glass of grape juice after mowing the lawn? I can’t.

(Big thanks to Jonathan A. in Mexico for the grape juice idea)

Whenever I’m reading a book and the author quotes from the Message to prove his point I close the book, punch it in the face and throw it in a creek. Not really, but that always kills me. I like the message as a fun, kind of loosely flavored interpretation of the Bible but whenever someone leans really hard on it to prove an argument I always get a little concerned. (For those that don’t know, the Message is Eugene Peterson’s common language modern version of the Bible.) I just think it’s easy to find a verse that backs you up in the Message. Here’s what I don’t like:

In Isaiah 30:15, the NIV says:
“In repentance and rest is your salvation,
in quietness and trust is your strength,

But here’s what the message says:
“Your salvation requires you to turn back to me
and stop your silly efforts to save yourselves.

So what happens is some minister or author writes a book called “Don’t be silly” and quotes that verse. Only it was different in the NIV. It was beautiful and simple and poetic. And it didn’t say, “Stop your silly efforts.”

The Message is good for some things, but I promise I will never quote it in the books I write.

If you’ve never waited on the side of a highway because a youth group vehicle broke down, I’m not sure you’ve ever been to church. Is there one guy that sells all these horrible vehicle to churches? Beelzebub’s Cars! Cars! Cars! There has to be a connection because across the country, Christians regularly leave for retreats in vans that stop working if it gets too cold, buses that stop dead in the rain and cars that leave you smelling like an oil refinery. My favorite part used to be watching the youth leaders huddle around the engine, randomly banging on parts and pieces as if they had some sort of automotive skill that was going to get us to the ski trip.

I’m married and if you are too then statistically speaking, one of us is going to get a divorce. I’m not writing that to be sensational or repetitive, as I’ve written a long divorce post before on my other blog, but I just want to say that it’s a big deal. And I don’t know if we Christians do a very good job of treating it as such. Look at it this way, if 1 out of every 2 neighbors you had on your street got mauled by a bear, would you be careful about bears? Would you buy books on how to keep your house safe from bears? Would you carry a gun and bear spray if there were in fact such a thing as bear spray? Probably, but when it comes to divorce we don’t do any equivalent things and the rates are about as high as that bear scenario. When was the last time you and your wife went to a counselor for just a tune up? What was the last book the two of you read together to strengthen your marriage? How many dates a month do you go on if you have kids? I fail at most of those things, so please don’t read finger pointing. The finger is pointed at me. I just think it’s something we should think about and change in our generation. What if we were the generation that ended divorce?

For those who don’t know, a love offering is kind of a “volunteer offering” the church takes up during special occasions like when a puppet group from Guam (named Strings of Mercy) is performing at your church. It’s really not that voluntary though because if you don’t contribute anything you’re essentially telling everyone you’re sitting near that your heart is not full of love. By not putting a couple of bucks in the offering plate you’re actually putting in a big fistful of hate. I wish when the ushers collected a love offering they would say out loud when someone didn’t give, “Oh, you don’t have any love for the magical world of puppetry? I guess love your neighbor doesn’t mean anything to you. Fine.”

(Special thanks to Lori for the idea of “Love Offerings.”)

This is probably our new favorite word, second only to “relevant” which I wrote about recently. I have friends that describe everything as postmodern. They practically want to label their pancakes as postmodern. “Isn’t sugar free syrup just such a postmodern breakfast condiment? It’s a different take on syrup, capturing our cultural desire to have something sweet but our fear of having something sugary.” No, no it’s not. It’s just syrup. And sometimes it’s OK to just see music as music and a sermon as a sermon. And 80% of the time they say it they don’t mean it, they just want to say something that sounds cool. They’re just saying words. They could just as easily say something like “Corduroyed Giraffe” instead of postmodern. In fact from now on, I am going to use that. Example, “Blogging about God is such a Corduroyed Giraffe thing to do.” There, I feel better already.

According to the Myers Briggs personality test, I’m an ENFP. And the DISC test tells me I’m an off the charts “I.” On some other test I am labeled an “otter” which means I like to play and enjoy cracking open oysters while on my back. And my spiritual gift is sarcasm. Actually, I’m not exactly sure what my spiritual gift is, but we Christians love to find out. We have tests and charts and classes and seminars dedicated to getting at the heart of who we are when it comes to gifts. I think that’s cool if it helps you focus and refine what it is you’re supposed to be doing. I just wish I could find someone who’s spiritual gift is, “Publishing Jon Acuff’s book ‘Stuff Christians Like.’”

God hates people that save seats at church. I know, he’s made of love or is love or invented love, but I’m pretty confident that when he’s up in heaven playing Frisbie golf with Elijah or Elisha (I always forget which one plays) I think he looks down at us and just thinks, “Ugh, I hate people that save seats.” You want to know why he feels that way? Because he knows how silly it is to try to reach people, to try to get people to come to your church, to desperately court visitors from your town only to stiff arm them when they try to sit down. Have you ever thought about that? We want people to come visit, just not in that seat. And at my church this is epidemic. I see people saving like a dozen seats at a time. I don’t really even like a dozen people but these people know 12 folks that are late and need you to put a bulletin on a chair? The whole thing is bogus. (Unless you’re saving seats for visitors of course. Then the whole post doesn’t make sense.)

When someone tells me at a party, “I don’t even own a TV,” I immediately stop, drop and roll my way into another room. It’s not the most graceful escape but it works. I am completely cool with people that don’t have televisions. I think I watch too much. I wish I didn’t know who got a really horrible angel tattoo on the show, “Biggest Loser.” I wish my Tivo didn’t know me better than some friends do. I don’t think watching a lot of television is a good thing, but I can’t stand how condescending people get when they’ve “conquered” television and want to tell you about it. Even worse is when they say, “I don’t even own a TV, I like to spend time with my kids instead.” Oh, low blow. What that sounds like is, “For me, my kids are more important than the show Lost, but then I’m not a horrible dad.” If you don’t own a TV, that is cool, seriously, but let’s talk about something else if you see me at a party. Please.