Term in Review: 5 most entertaining posts

People do not smile enough.

It is certainly true where I live, and rightly so. I currently live in a world where life is harder than most anyone who reads this could imagine. If you are reading this, you are sitting in front of a computer. Even if its not your own, you at least have access to one. Day after day, the people here are fighting for existence. Many are wondering whether they will eat tomorrow. They live in sickness, disease and danger.

That does not leave a lot of room for smiling. Yet, despite their circumstances, the people here make room. One of the greatest gifts I have received in Africa is a smiling face. In a world that is so hard, few things are as valuable as experiencing moments of joy with a friend.

There is just something about seeing a face light up with happiness, eyes bright and teeth out of hiding. That is why I wrote these posts.

Here's to you: Christian t-shirts

In war, a soldier must wear his armor. In the throws of battle, one must be able to identify friend from foe.

Enter the Christian t-shirt.

Blasting out the message of faith in full silk-screen style, you were masterpieces of poly-cotton blend art. Classy and thought-provoking, you challenged t-shirt readers everywhere with the full out, robust message of the gospel by stabbing their hearts with phrases as keen as, “Body piercing saved my life.”

Here's to you: Church camp romance

I saw you on Monday. I was in the cafeteria eating spaghetti with corn, and like an angel, you floated into the room, you and your posse of six other girls. It was love at first bite. As you stood in the lunch line, shining with radiant beauty, I made my move. I went for seconds of the corn. With all the suave and courage I could muster, I smiled at you as I passed through the wake of your awesomeness. I think you saw me. Yeah, I am pretty sure you saw me.

Off Topic: Prayer Positions

This past weekend I saw something I have not seen in a while.

It was Prayer Hands.

As you well know, Prayer Hands are the officially adopted prayer position of the western church. For time and memorial they have been emblazoned upon countless pieces of Jesus paraphernalia. As a child, this is the first of many prayer positions we learn. Our parents teach us to put our two hands together in this fashion as we kneel over our bed and thank God for our puppy and mud puddles.

Here's to you: Christian ska music

Exploding onto the scene with trombones blazing, you gave youth group members everywhere a new way to stick out. If wallet chains and ringer tees with stupid logos were not enough, you added fuel to the “I am weird” fire. Your sound was reminiscent of a brass ensemble getting into a fight with a jaguar. Furthermore, you proved a bugle could indeed be a punk-rock instrument and running around like a mad chicken could be called dancing.

Here's to you!

If you are too much older than I am, this post will probably seem absurd to you.

If you are too much younger than I am, this will not even make sense.

But if you who remember being excited about dc Talk’s first album and upset about their last, then this post is for you!

Would you like fries with that friendship?

People ask me all the time what things I miss from the States, expecting it to be a steak or some real fancy meal. Quite to the contrary, I have discovered people miss the things they did and used the most. It is the things that were a part of my life everyday that seem to have left a hole.

So I really miss fast food.

Off Topic: I'm Feeling Lucky.

So, I have decided to write a commentary on the Revelation of John.

There are several reasons behind this. For starters, everyone knows writing a commentary is how you make it into the “big leagues” in the realm of theology. It is also a well known fact that approximately 83% of evangelical commentaries say basically the same thing about any given passage and typically just reword each other. (Save their relationship to the freewill/sovereignty, dispensational/covenantal, and emergent church pop Christian culture questions.) Finally, any one who writes a commentary on the Revelation gets bonus points for walking off into that minefield.

Therefore I have devised a plan that will, in one stroke, make me famous and provide Christian readers the world over with new, valuable information they must know about the Bible.

In fact, I believe I have discovered the true identity of that one world government everyone is always saying the Apocalypse predicts.

Off Topic: Christians say the darndest things.

Words can be contagious. Few things seem to harbor the power of transmittal as words, and with them ideals. Take for instance the words "change" and "hope". When wielded in a certain way, they have the power to win a presidency.

I experienced a similar situation here in the last couple of months, howbeit not quite as consequential as the previous example.

I live in a culture which places high value on greetings. People will go out of their way to greet you if they see you, simply because this is the appropriate way to respect a relationship. Furthermore, my work has me spending time with students who are roughly high school age.

Imagine my surprise when one of my students walked up to me, and instead of initiating the customary ritual of greeting, stuck out his arm indicating that he wanted a fist bump. Then, upon bumping said fist, he clamors out the words, "big ups."

At first, due to his heavy Franco-African accent, I thought he was trying to say "hiccups," but upon him repeating it several times and me taking guesses I made the discovery that he was indeed saying "big ups." Within a mere period of days, it seemed every student in town had replaced their normal greetings with the "big ups." It spread like a disease. My astonishment was complete when one of the little six-year-old girls with our organization walked up to me one day and demanded the “big ups.” Where in the world did she pick it up?! Even she had been infected.

For those of you who may not be familiar with the “big ups” terminology. Its definition, as listed on Urban Dictionary (a site I will not be linking to from this blog), is as follows:

1. lots of props, sent through a messenger, such as the radio or a friend 
2. massive props to someone you respek (I did not misspell that.) 
3. (n.) a phrase used when dealing on the street to give props or show much respect to someone/something 

Now, you may wonder how kids in the middle of absolute nowhere, in a land without reliable electricity or running water, would pick up on street lingo from the States. The answer lies in the power of words themselves. Words convey ideals, and with the term “big ups” comes a truckload of American culture. One song by Akon (a West African himself), with lyrics of wealth and fame, and the youth here realize that is the ideal to which they want to aspire. People who have nothing think Americans have everything, and the youth here imitate every ounce of our culture they can.

But is that not true of humanity in general? A need for acceptance, a desire to make ourselves look as though we belong in a certain group of people, causes us to say and do some of the strangest things.

Christians are no exception.

You know you have done it, and so have I. We say the darndest things to convince others we are indeed the kind of person we are “supposed to be.” As we settle into the Christian subculture, we get cozy and begin to aspire for an elevated position in this social circle. Soon, the desire is to ooh and ahh those other members of said circle with our obvious spirituality. Before you get mad at me for posting this, let me be the first to admit, I have committed at least five of these, and my hope is that you will laugh at yourself (or at least me).

Following is a list of those things we often catch ourselves saying in order to prove our spirituality to the Christian in-crowd:

Quoting a minor prophet 

(especially when it has no bearing on the conversation)

What better way to show one is definitely on God's speed dial than quoting the Bible? But for those who really want the most bang for their buck, quote a minor prophet. Everyone knows John 3:16, but who can recall the words of the prophet Haggai? An added advantage comes with everyone's lack of knowledge when it comes to the minor prophets, so one can stick these little nuggets into many conversations where they admittedly do not belong. The prophets were preachers of old, and their words often sound cryptic and extra spiritual when used to season conversation. Common uses of this are seen during group Bible study, or more subtly in the middle of a vocal prayer. “As your Word tells us in Nahum 3:5,” makes a convenient prayer insert. A word of caution: Read the passage (and maybe even understand it) prior to tossing it into the mix. 

Christian name dropping  

This one is big enough it deserves its own post! It is increasingly common to hear people drop the name of a Christian pop writer casually in conversation. The phrase often begins with something like, “You know, Donald Miller says it best when,” or “I think Mark Driscoll would agree.” In using these little jewels, one simultaneously shows an extensive understanding of “the Christian conversation” (as so many now call it) and enlists a famous Christian mind on his or her side of a discussion. Good show! 

However, one must be careful with this tactic. Within the Christian subculture are still further Christians subsets. Assuredly, it is never good to mix subsets. For instance, name dropping Jon Piper in a circle of Paige Patterson sympathizers will result in a point deduction. Past this reality, one must consider whether it is appropriate to pull a name from the realm of theologians, Christian-living authors, or the new up-and-coming pastor podcasters/ bloggers. Remember, context is everything with this one. Be aware of your surroundings.

Pick-a-Psalm 

It was the hymnbook of ancient Israel, and aside from the command of God to have “Holy, Holy, Holy” as the first song in every hymnbook after the crucifixion, it functions in much the same way as our own hymnals today. Its purpose is to bring the reader(s) into worship, and more importantly, to provide God with the honor and praise he deserves. Filled with deep, thoughtful words that cry out to God in both joy and pain, the Psalter is indeed inspired worship. 

However, a common purpose nowadays is to demonstrate the exceeding spirituality of some. Envision a group worship time, not the Sunday morning service, but something more personal, where all are invited to participate in vocal prayer, reading of scripture, and song. There is a momentary silence and just enough time to flip to the Psalms (conveniently located right in the middle of the Bible) and employ the pick-a-psalm tactic. There are psalms for every occasion in scripture. Furthermore, when properly executed, this can make it seem as though the person was coincidentally reminded of these words of worship as though he or she cuddles up nightly with the Psalter and cup of tea. It is virtually a fail-safe way to rack up points; however, for this approach to work, it must be used in bulk. Simply calling everyone's attention to a particular psalm once during a group worship will not do. One must become marked by this tendency. Happy hunting. 

Prayer-bragging 

This tactic is best employed in group settings. Often times, it is appropriately used during Sunday school or “small group.” Proper execution seizes the moment when a call for prayer requests has been made and uses it as an opportunity to soapbox some extra-spiritual event that has recently taken place (or will take place) in one's life. However, like Jeopardy, this one must take the form of a question. “Please pray that I have boldness as I single-handedly scour the streets in our slums for victims of poverty in order to invite their kids to VBS next week,” is a case example. 

Conversationjacking

I am not sure if this is a tactic or a spiritual gift, but certain individuals appear to have the ability while others do not. Similar to the strategy listed above, the practitioner of this tactic tends to commandeer every conversation, no matter the subject, and morph it into a discussion of his or her exploits in short term missions. “You know, speaking of your toilet getting stopped up, I am reminded of an experience I recently had in the jungles of the Amazon,” may be how this one begins. 

While also most effective in a group setting, this approach is markedly more casual and occurs during conversation; therefore, it is more flexible in usage and can gain the user points in a non-church setting. Prime times for this occur often, such as that vacuum period between Sunday school and the Worship service. The skilled can also use this tactic in a one-on-one conversation, and the truly brazen can insert it into group Bible study as an answer to a question. Admittedly, this last use is precarious, but if done successfully, it leaves all in earshot feeling as though they have learned spiritual truths from the sagely wisdom provided by the short term missions superstar. 

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By all means when God teaches you a lesson, shows you a deep truth in his Word or lays a need on your heart, share it! Let others know, but check your motives. Let us all make sure our purpose is to edify others in the process, and not to make ourselves shine. May God get the glory from our words and not ourselves.

On gift-giving - Part 3

I believe people mean well enough, when it comes to gift-giving that is. However, it is ritual in America, especially around Christmas time. No longer is gift-giving a nice gesture. Instead, the tradition has become an obligation during this season of the year. It seems to me this shift in the essence of gift-giving has possibly changed the reasoning behind the act. The question is thus raised, “Why do you give gifts?”

Following is a list of the reasons, at least in my experience, why people give gifts during the Christmas season. While the list is not exhaustive, the reasons are thus:

• Reciprocity – Chalk this one up to guilt. Someone got you something real nice, and now you feel a need to return the favor. It may have been an early surprise you found on your desk at work a week before Christmas. “Oh thank you!” you will say. Followed by, “Your's is on its way, I just haven't got them all wrapped yet. I'm such a procrastinator!” This person, of course, was not on your list to start with but has now found a prominent spot.
• Preemptive strike – Akin to the above reason, the preemptive strike is the reverse. The desire is to suck up to someone from which you would like to later receive a benefit. This is the tried and true “apple on the teacher's desk” bit and is often used with bosses and or other people from whom you may be able to glean something in the future. You are the person in the first scenario who left the gift on the desk a week before Christmas.
• To impress someone – While this is similar to the preemptive strike, there are certain nuances that make this reason for gift-giving a different category. The real reason behind this gift is not to receive a tangible benefit in return. Instead, it is designed to change the recipient's opinion of the giver. Most often, this seems to take shape in one of two forms. First is the desire to flaunt one's wealth. This is also known as buying one's friends.
  A lesser talked about use of this tactic is found in high schools and on college campuses everywhere. Most often used on Valentine's Day (however not unheard of at Christmas), this tactic is used to woo someone of the opposite sex. You may have met her in the book stacks of the library, or perhaps she sits two rows over in one of your classes. Nonetheless, she is the most beautiful creature you have ever seen, and, knowing your own limitations in the looks department, you feel the need to even the odds somehow. Unfortunately for you, a box of chocolates rarely does the trick.
• Unloading – Most of us have too much stuff and, honestly, most of it is junk. Closets across America are full of old knick-knacks that have not seen daylight in years. While rarely used at Christmas, this is still a common reason for gift-giving. If you do not want it, odds are, neither does the person on which you plan to unload it.
• Re-gifting – Unlike the above reason, re-gifting is most often practiced at Christmas. It is that time of year when most everyone around you is receiving gifts. This year, someone will inevitably give you a gift that is akin to the plague. You do not want it, and instead of trashing it, you assign it a far more sinister purpose. You spread the disease. You plan to burden someone else with it, effectively killing two birds with one stone. You have ridden yourself of said gift, and marked one more person off the shopping list. Therefore, it winds up rewrapped. You make sure not to open the actual packaging, so as to give the impression you purchased it for the unlucky victim of this transaction.
• Hints through gifting – Gifts given for this reason turn the ritual into a platform for communicating an idea. A case example is buying your wife a workout video for Christmas. Or, in the reverse, buying your man some Rogaine. Often used in order to lesson the sting of an unpleasant statement, this usually winds up backfiring.
• Shadow gifting - The most diabolical of all gift-giving reasons, this one can only be pulled off in very specific circumstances. First, the recipient has to be of close relation to you. For instance, this can be used with a spouse, sibling, parent, or possibly your own child. However, outside of that circle it is a challenge to use. The scenario goes as follows: The giver really wants a new gadget of some form, perhaps a particular piece of technology or a new appliance for the household. Instead of using their money to purchase the item for themselves, they take a much lower road. They buy it for another member of the family, in essence, putting it in close enough association with themselves to use it whenever they would like. Many wives have been bought fishing poles for this exact reason.

After examining personal reasons for gift-giving, perhaps it would be helpful to examine the reason why gift-giving is part of our Christmas celebration.

Many claim the origins of the Christmas holiday season predate Christianity, finding its roots in pagan ceremony and celebration. Examples cited to back this theory are plethora and include symbols like Christmas trees, many of our decorations, and even gift-giving itself.

Truthfully, they may be right. Much of what we do on this holiday may have found its roots in winter festivals and celebrations to pagan deities. Nevertheless, the only reason I mention this is to say that I do not really care if its earliest origins paid homage to a myth of the Roman pantheon. When the true king of the world was born, those who worshipped him chose a day to celebrate. At the advent of Jesus Christ, Romans may have given gifts in the name of Saturn. However, with the establishment of Christmas, an old tradition was given an entirely new meaning. Like every other aspect of life, an empty, fallen invention of man was given true meaning by the birth of a savior.

Christmas is a holiday reborn. It was given a new life.

Whatever the initial reasons for giving gifts on this day, we do it now in remembrance of a gift given. Yet, this precious gift was not given to impress or flaunt the wealth of the one who gave it, despite his matchless riches. It was by no means given in reciprocity as to ones who deserved it. It certainly was not given because it had no value to the giver. To the contrary, it was his only begotten. Our Heavenly Father gave mankind a gift it did not deserve and paid a price far higher than any we could pay.

Furthermore, in love of the Father, Christ gave the gift of sacrifice so that creation could be reconciled to the creator. He, being in the very form of God, did not account this equality a thing to be grasped. No, he humbled himself. Christ sacrificed his position on high, and he became man. He became a servant, an obedient servant to the point of death. He died my death and your death, so that we might live a new life.

On Christmas, we celebrate a holiday reborn. And on Christmas, we celebrate the fact that man can be too.

Off Topic: The Fishbowl Effect

I once owned a goldfish. His name was Cochise.

Cochise was the result of an unfortunate series of events that ended with 30-50 small goldfish in my bathtub one evening. My only explanation is that I was a college minister prior to coming to Africa.

Being the tenderhearted, animal-lover I am, I sought to rescue said goldfish from the ultimate peril of my drain by scooping them out and putting them in a glass cookie jar. This jar turned fish refugee camp housed most of the fish in a suitable, yet cramped, environment. In other words, the jar was so full they could hardly move.

And as cheap Walmart goldfish tend to do, they began to slowly die off. Every morning, I would wake up and find one or two belly-up in the cookie jar. Every morning, I would have a burial by toilet bowl.

The numbers soon dwindled until I had only one left, and man was he a keeper! Cochise was by far the ugliest fish of the whole group. Most of the other goldfish were, well, gold.

Not Cochise. He was a nice shade of duct-tape grey. Furthermore, one of his eyes was much larger than the other one and somewhat bugged out to one side. Despite his obvious handicaps, Cochise was apparently a fighter, because that guy held on to life like no fish I have ever seen.

We were together for several years. In fact, it was not until months after I came to Africa that I learned of his eventual demise. I charged a friend with his care, only for Cochise to head off to that happy fish pond in the sky. My only guess is that he died of separation anxiety.

Cochise and I shared many fond memories. During the final months of my masters degree, his bowl was next to my computer on the desk. After I moved to a new house for a brief time, he lived on the counter in the kitchen, the room I frequented the most. Often times, I would walk by and see him sitting there, staring back at me. More than once, I caught myself wondering what the world was like from his perspective. How did the world look through Cochise's bugged-out eyeball? What is it like to live in a bowl and watch the world go on around you?

A piece of me now knows.

My 10-year high school reunion was last week. (Put the old man jokes aside until I finish making my point.) It was an event that, for all intents and purposes, I should have had a hand in planning. And certainly, had I been in the States, I would have.

Instead of catching up with long lost friends about life and their pursuit of happiness, I got to look at pictures of the reunion on Facebook. It appears they had a good time, a fact of which I am glad. Yet, like so many other things in the past year, I “experienced” this milestone from behind glass. I watched through the lens of Facebook.

I have already confessed to being a Facebook stalker. It has become my means of watching my old world march forward without me. I have indeed succumbed to the fish bowl effect. I sit back and idly watch as friends get married or have kids, as events take place that I should attend, and as family and church members get sick.

Facebook albums and status updates fill in the details of county fairs and Strawberry Festivals, of celebrations at church and tragic events that shake my community. All the while, I stare through my little glass wall and watch from a distance.

At times it has been hard. Sometimes, it hurts because you realize you are not a part of what is happening back at home anymore. On other occasions, it hurts because you realize it can actually go on without you. You see group photographs that should have your face in the middle of them. But then, you realize they are all smiling just the same without you.

Before you gather that my point in writing this is to garnish your pity, let me assure you this post has a happy ending. I am by no means upset by my current circumstances. Quite to the contrary, I thank God for my position. For, while I spectate on my old life from another world, I am indeed experiencing this new world as well. You see, there is a life on this side of the glass. It is a life full of new faces, new places, and new memories. For the time being, I have an abiding peace here, despite the separation from those who are so close to my heart. Truly, it is the kind of peace that can only come from being obedient to God's call.

Ironically, with the end of my term in sight, the realization is dawning on me that I may soon be viewing my world here as though from a fishbowl. In the event that I return home to stay, I may soon be casting glances back on my new friends and family here through the lens of Facebook and scattered collections of news and tidbits I gather through email. The work here is so important, and the people here are so dear. To watch it from behind glass, it would hurt.

Yet, no matter where I land, that will be my reality, to watch one of my worlds from a distance. Solace comes in knowing there is true peace for those who are obedient to God's call, wherever it may lead.

For all of my friends out there who have attended a wedding via Skype this past year, I imagine you know how I feel...

Off Topic: Are Christians closet pyromaniacs?

I like to set things on fire.

I blame my father. When I was a little kid, we were always lighting things on fire... and then he taught me how how to make homemade fireworks. But that is another story.

I may enjoy the warm glow and soft crackle of a fire, but I am convinced I am not the only one. In my aimless meandering around the World Wide Web, I feel I have made an interesting discovery. I think Christians are closet pyromaniacs.

In any given school year, the average youth group member is inundated with references to fire in some capacity. Tonight, countless students across America will head off to their weekly Ignite Student Ministry meeting. During announcements, they will be given more information about purchasing tickets for the Acquire the Fire youth rally. This will be followed by a message on how to be “on fire” for the Lord and they will close out the evening with an appropriate song such as “Light the Fire.” Then, they will get in their car, plug in their iPod and listen to Shane & Shane belt out “Burn Me Up” on their way to Dairy Queen to grab one of those Flamethrower burgers and a Reese's Blizzard.

Furthermore, how many of us currently own at least one Christian t-shirt with some form of stylized flame logo on it? I know I do.

If you want more proof, listen to the verbs we use in sermons and Bible studies now. We talk about fanning flames, evangelism explosions, igniting our faith or kindling our relationship with the Lord. Revival has taken on the language of bursting into flames and spreading throughout our country. And everyone knows, it only takes a spark to get a fire going.

Maybe it is not pyromania though. Possibly, it is just a fad in the terms we use. There have been other fads in the past. In our very recent history in America, Christians have spoken of Great Awakenings and the winds of change. Billy Graham introduced us once again to the language of crusades (one which has been let go lately for obvious reasons).

However, if this is indeed just a fad in our communication, then what is next? On which verbal bandwagon will the Christian subculture jump next?

As I have pondered on this topic, I have come up with the following top options:

Natural Phenomenon - 
Some form of natural phenomenon may make a good replacement when pyromania goes the way of the dodo. Possible options in this category include landslides or tidal waves. Just think, in a couple of years, our youth may be going to Tsunami 2014: Let the waves wash over you. Storms are probably a bad idea though, they tend to leave destruction in their wake. Besides, the whole flood motif has been done already.

The World of Science -
Many people seem to think science and faith have it out for each other, but maybe there is something they could share... like a catchy slogan. Imagine if we switched out our language of fires with chain reactions. Then, we could have some guest speaker asking us if our bond with Jesus was ionic or covalent. In actuality, I do hear the word "catalyst" thrown around a lot though.

The World of Medicine -
I was initially considering this option, but I simply cannot find a good term from this field. For instance, the only ideas that get across rapid spread are words like "infection" or "viral." I do not know about you, but I certainly do not want the student ministry at my church to be called Contagious and I have no desire to be a part of the next Great Gospel Epidemic. It could make for some cool t-shirts though.

Whatever the case, I am sure someone will coin a new term that will take the Christian circles by storm. The same timeless message will get repackaged for a new audience, and we will get a whole new round of slogans, sayings and (unfortunately) merchandise to promote it. My only hope is that in the midst of all the sayings, we will not distract people from the simple message of who Christ really is.



How about you? Do you have the next Christian super-slogan? Comment below...

You can not judge a church by its pulpit

Worship at church this past Sunday found me in a bit of a crisis. I do not know why it took this long for it to hit me, but it did.

Countless times since I set foot on the dark continent, I have had those moments that stretch me, where life seems to no longer fit into its nice little boxes. This past Sunday it happened again.

Here is why:

It is a widely known fact that a church's style can be identified by simply looking at its pulpit. The entire summation of the evangelical movement as it sprang out of the Reformation has been distilled, with very few exceptions, into five distinct pulpit types.

They are as follows: 

The ginormous wooden pulpit 

Being Baptist, this is the one with which I am, admittedly, most familiar. This monstrous structure crowns the furthest outreaches of the stage, almost in enemy territory. However, it provides the pastor with an excellent vantage point from which to deliver his sermon. Able to withstand an ample beating, a fact proven by the preacher's insistence on pounding it with his fist, this pulpit provides sufficient protection.

Deluxe models are outfitted with wings on both sides which effectively triple the holding capacity and allow the pastor to lean forward with arms on either side for sermon impact. These are often accompanied by organ pipes that resemble some form of artillery.

Tag-team, offset pulpits

With the rise of the neo-liturgical movement, this pulpit configuration has found a new life. Simply put, this church is older than yours. And while these pulpits may not be as big as the Baptist bulwark mentioned above, they make up for it in number. These two pulpits stand amongst the rainbow tints of stained glass as silent sentinels, reminding us that “A Mighty Fortress is Our God.” Elegantly carved from floor to ceiling, yet not iconoclastic mind you, these churches may say, “sola scriptura, sola fide, sola gratia, solus Christus, and soli Deo gloria.” But never, “sola unus pulpit.”

If you do actually go to one of these churches, chances are, its founder shook John Calvin's hand at some point. And you may want to consider adding an “s” to TULIP for “stylish.”

The one-handed, movable pulpit

This is the same church where the pastor does not wear a tie. As the worship band is tearing down after their power praise, this podium floats out to the center in the hands of the pastor. Band equipment and overgrown floral arrangements are no match for this man. In one fluid motion, he has managed to carry his podium, flip on his wireless mic, and begin to roll up his sleeves. He is ready for business.

Chosen to be inconspicuous, this pulpit does not distract from the themed stage scenery or this week's video clip for the ongoing sermon series. (Podcasts available on the website.)

A glass podium

I have a hard time calling this one a pulpit. In my mind, this thing belongs on a stage at the convention center, not in a church. Then again, I grew up in a church with the mega-pulpit. But I digress.

In theory, this one is similar to the micro pulpit mentioned above, but it has a certain pizzaz that its predecessor lacks. These come in all shapes and sizes and the temptation to engrave them with some frosted Christian emblem (such as a cross, dove, or the Church's new logo) is too much for many. Subtle and see-through, these pulpits say classy, but they do it in a whisper.

The only thing on stage that is prettier than the podium is the man behind it. And he has to be... he has nowhere to hide. This pastor is Mr. Confident and his pulpit says, “Don't look at me... look at him.”

No pulpit at all

Rather avant-garde, many churches have chosen to go sans pulpit. Imagine with me if you will. As the Hands for Jesus drama group finishes their rendition of “I Can Only Imagine,” the stage lighting is brought low. After the brief dramatic pause, this pastor appears from backstage at a half walk/jog to denote his enthusiasm and excitement for the proclamation of God's Word. Let us hope he has his Bible memorized, because he certainly has no place to set it.

Dressed to the nines, this guy is the only decoration the stage needs. The next 23 minutes are full of catchy lines (feel free to twitter them) and great smiles.



Now, my crisis came when I realized our church was nowhere near any of these categories. Instead of a stage, we have a tiny concrete building, and instead of a pulpit, we have a prayer mat. The only instruments in our church are our hands, and the service is as much about the prayers of the congregation as it is the sermon provided by the speaker. Yet, every Sunday, we meet with God in that little building, sitting on our mats. God is worshipped by the clapping of our hands and the songs from our hearts, despite the lack of a sound system. God's Word is proclaimed and His name is exalted.

I guess you simply can not judge a church by its pulpit...

Off topic: "What did you do this summer?"

I have a confession. I have become a Facebook stalker. It all started out innocent enough I guess. Occasionally glancing at photo albums from friends trips, until one day, I caught myself purposely seeking out the Info tab of some friends to see if anything new was happening.

I blame my distance. The world, friends and faces I grew up with are moving along without me. How else am I supposed keep up? But I digress...

My real reason for this off topic post is that age-old question, “What did you do this summer?” I remember dreading that question, and unfortunately, as sure as the sun will rise, it would come up at the beginning of every school year. As a little kid I can remember sitting in my desk trying to come up with some halfway decent answer and inevitably failing. Truth is, my family and I rarely went anywhere when I was growing up. I can count the number of vacations we took on one hand.

Sure enough, the teacher would start at one corner of the room and off we would go retelling our adventures for the last two months. The room would fill with lofty tales of cruises or trips to the beach. Somebody would always chime in with a trip to Disneyworld. But all of these would come crashing to the floor as soon as that one kid in the room mentioned Europe.

I usually had to follow that kid.

Interestingly enough, my recently developed habit of Facebook stalking has brought to my attention a new evolution in this timeless question. Gone, it seems, are the days or waiting for the teacher to give you the open invitation to ooh and ah your friends. Now, its as easy as a tweet and the world knows just how cool your summer was.

School is back in session, and the Facebook photo albums are piling up. Countless people are doing the profile makeover. And it seems, we Christians have our own brand of “pimp my profile.”

In case you may not be sure if your friend had a “Christian summer”, here is the evidence:

1. Their most recent photo album title has the words “camp” and “creek” in it. Other variations will be words that end in “crest”, “cove”, or “ridge.” 
2. They are giving some person from the third world a side hug in their profile pic. Bonus points should be given for the shot of them surrounded by a crowd of children. If its on a dirt road its better still. Alternately, they may be standing entirely too close to some animal that should have already eaten them, and there is no cage between them and said animal. 
3. They clog your news feed with constant “liking” of obscure causes and charities. 
4. The “Write something about yourself.” blank on their profile has been filled with some recently learned statistic about illiteracy or “global lostness” in the “10-40 window." 
5. Their profile references the “10-40 window." 
6. Instead of ridiculously skimpy swimsuits, they opted for the do-rag and long dress look as the outfit of choice in all their summer photos. (Guys will be wearing the pants with legs that zip off.)
7. Their status updates, which sound like a love letter to an old boyfriend, are actually lyrics out of some new worship song they heard at that camp whose name ends in “creek”, “crest”, or “cove”. (See point 1.)
8. In the Religious Views blank on their Info page, the actual denomination they belong to has been replaced with, “Hopelessly and endlessly pursuing the one, true, holy, matchless, boundless, unchanging, creator of heaven and earth, who fills my heart with inexpressible joy.” Or something like that. 
9. They have an ongoing wall discussion full of inside jokes with their new best friend they met while building a house in Alaska. 

Oh, and the list goes on. What do you think belongs on this list? Comment below with your additions...

Sermon Fodder - Turkish Baths

It appears that life is fashioned in such a way as to provide us with those little moments which necessitate being retold. Furthermore, any preacher or teacher will understand the great desire to take these little jewels once given and turn them into some rich illustration that produces a poignant response and the clear understanding of some deep spiritual truth inside the hearer. Hence, sermon fodder is born.

I had just such an incident on vacation.

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Amidst our mad dash through the touristy regions of the country, a friend of ours in the know decided a trip to a Turkish bath was a needed experience. Envisioning in my mind some last vestige of ancient Roman baths, and having never set foot into one of these places, I agreed this would be a fun outing. If only I had known.

Upon arriving at the 800-year-old Hammam, or Turkish bathouse, I was promptly instructed to remove all of my clothes and replace them with a towel. Then I was ushered by some comical looking Turkish man into a small stall with another of my companions. Apparently, changing rooms in Turkey are two-seaters.

Having divorced myself from my garments, with my friend as an audience mind you, and adopting this towel, which really looked more like a scarf, I presented myself to the Turkish man once again. We were then escorted to the back room.

The building was very old indeed. Running upwards into a large dome, the ceiling finished at a skylight in its center. The rest of the room was a sanitary assortment of stone and ceramic tile. In the very center of the room was a large marble slab looking much like a giant table.

A strange mixture of emotions flooded my mind as I took in my surroundings. Had I entered a day spa or a torture chamber? As I presently write this, I can not tell you the answer to that question.

The following hour, or hours (for I am not sure; time seemed to stand still in that place), presented a series of chambers into which I was thrust only to be pulled out and placed in another. The first chamber was filled with a dry heat, and quickly made itself unbearable. The second chamber was at least as hot but was also filled with steam.

There is a point where heat stops being a condition and is so forceful it is itself a thing, looming over the room. This steam room was so hot I could reach out and touch the heat. It was oppressive and the steam, infused with some form of menthol, filled my lungs so that it was hard to breath. Consequently, I discovered I have pores in places where I did not know it possible, as they all began to cry out for fresh air. I produced myself, a sweaty, exhausted mess, from the steam room and my body rejoiced as it was reunited with the air outside.

It was then that they entered.

A collection of Turkish men, wearing only towels and their body hair, entered through the only door to the room. There was one Turk for each of us. I think mine was the biggest.

Instead of dallying with our obvious language barrier, these men chose simply to demonstrate what they wanted us to do by taking hold of our bodies and positioning them as they saw fit. Before I knew it, we were all spread out on the marble slab. What followed was surreal. My personal Turk began scrubbing my body with soap, contorting it as he saw fit. It was not a massage, and it was not a bath. Yet, somehow it was both.

Despite the slight argument over the precise position of my towel that continued throughout the event, I felt like the fellow and I shared some form of experience. He was the giver, and I was indeed the recipient, whether I liked it or not. It was horrible, but it was wonderful. It hurt, but it was relaxing.

Little did I know, the event was not over. Truly, what happened next was the crescendo, it was the orchestral hit at the end of the symphony. It was the shock pool.

When my masseuse/ inquisitor finished his performance, I was sat up and rinsed off. He then helped me, as I needed help by this time, out of the room with the large dome into another, smaller room. Inside was a small pool of crystal water. The temperature dropped drastically as we changed from one room to the next. Half expecting to be pushed, I stood there awaiting my fate. Instead, he smiled at me and motioned that I should get in.

I cannot find the language to accurately describe to you the feelings produced from jumping into that pool. I dare say it would have awoken the dead. I felt as though my body, which had been pushed to the very cusp of breaking, would indeed snap. As my body sank lower into that glacial water, each muscle was revived from its numbness. Until that moment, I only thought I knew what it meant to be awake. My head reemerged from the water, and I was a new man.

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Stories like these have “sermon fodder” written all over them. The question at hand is how to use it.

Here is my list so far:

Sermon 1 – Use it as an example to explain God's discussion of hot and cold water in the letter to Laodicea. It has the obvious advantage of taking place in the same location. The hot and cold water both served their purpose. However, this one does not sound like much fun.

Sermon 2 – Sanctification. Ah, the story plays right into this topic. God, like the big, hairy Turkish guy, works his hard hands over us, shaping us into who we should be. It hurts, but we come out the other side better for it. Endless word plays about getting “cleaned up” or “scrubbed down” would abound.

Sermon 3 – Admittedly a stretch, one could take the approach of contrasting the “heat and pressure” that comes from a sinful life and the refreshing exhilaration that comes from jumping back into the “cold pool” or God's love.

I have the list started; now it is your turn. Take a minute and let the creative juices start flowing. How would you use this as a sermon illustration?



Comment with yours below...

Lessons from the little kids

Africa has a bunch of kids, and I think about half of them follow me around on a regular basis. I am actually beginning to wonder if it is one of their chores.

In all honesty, over half of the population in my country is under the age of 25, and it seems that there are at least 20 little kids for every adult. Kids are everywhere. 

I have written before about the methods used in raising livestock in this part of Africa, and the methods used for children appear to be strikingly similar. However, the end results are quite different. Even if the children here are “free ranged,” so to speak, they have taught me many things over the past nine months.

For some odd reason, I thought you might want to here a few of these lessons. So, I compiled a list.

It is okay to be naked 

This one is self-explanatory.

Snot is supposed to adorn your upper lip 

and the children here proudly display theirs almost everyday.

Hair stands up better if its dirty

So why do we take the time to wash it?

Shoes get in the way 

They are obviously devices invented to confine your toes and keep you from being able to use your feet as God intended.

Bathing is a form of torture 

Kids are washed the same way as clothes... in a wash basin and scrubbed with soap. The only difference... they use a hard scrub brush on the kids. They just beat the clothes against a rock.

If I can hide my face, the rest of me disappears 
This fact comes in handy when playing games or hiding from angry adults.

White people are fun to pet
Apparently, they think we are hairy.

Tiny tomato paste cans make good toys
I might as well have given them a $100. As a matter of fact, you can't fill up a Franklin with dirt and rocks and drag it around on a string.

It is okay to use the bathroom there 
or there, or here, or anywhere really 

It is easy to find things to celebrate 
As of late, electricity rarely comes to the little town that serves as our "headquarters," but we always know when it arrives because the loud cheers of children in the streets always follows it. Every time I drive my car out into the bush to stay at my little place in the village I am greeted by a parade of cheering kids, for no other reason than the fact that I came.

Look after those who are not able
The bigger ones take care of the little ones. They feed them and they dress them (when they are not participating in lesson one). They calm them when they are hurt and they teach them how to live. 

Time is a valuable gift, when you have nothing else

and they do not have anything else, but they make the absolute most of the one thing they do have.

There is a lot to be said for wisdom. It has been the boon of those who possessed it and the ruin of those who did not. Whole books of the Bible are dedicated to instructing people in its ways. It is truly a possession to be sought. 

Sometimes, we find it in the strangest places.

Sheep

I had a quick thought to leave you with before I head back out to the village for a week.

An exegetical fallacy that is commonly made today is overextending a metaphor or broadening the semantic range of a word too far to include more meanings than it is given by its original context. In other words, loading a word or metaphor with more meaning than the author intended it to have, because by overloading it, you can use it to make your own points. Many well intended preachers and teachers are guilty of this, and I may be committing the same crime in the following. Nevertheless, I have made some interesting observations of sheep during my time in Africa so far.

Scripture commonly refers to Christians as sheep. In the States, I think the significance of this comparison is often missed, if not completely lost. I am no longer convinced it is intended in any way as a compliment. I have found sheep to be the least intelligent of any domesticated animal I have ever seen. Livestock free range in this part of Africa, and when I say free range, I use the term loosely. What I really mean is people let their animals freely roam all over the place without any restraint. Due to this approach to raising livestock, it is a common occurrence to see goats, chickens, cattle, and sheep in the middle of the road. While goats, cattle and chickens have the common sense to run out of the road at the sight of an oncoming vehicle, sheep do not appear to be blessed with this foresight. Instead, they will stay put in the middle of the road, or worse, run from the side of the road out into the middle as if trying to get hit.

In addition to their lack of intelligence, sheep also seem to be completely incapable of taking care of themselves. Again, consider the conditions in which the livestock are provided for (or not provided for) here. When they are born, sheep are some of the cutest little things I have ever laid eyes on. Most are pure white with a soft coat of fur. But within weeks they become the most unpresentable of creatures. The white fur quickly gets filthy and the sheep seem to have no concern (unlike most of the other animals) with keeping themselves clean. Within a month, sheep typically turn this grotesque shade of brown and are covered with all kinds of substances I will not list on my blog. They are pitiful looking, aimless creatures that wander around all day barely keeping themselves alive.

Now contrast this with the "Precious Moments" image of a cuddly little sheep with some Bible verse comparing Christians to the cute little animal in the picture. I think this may say something more about how we view ourselves as Christians than how God intended on this metaphor to be used. Is it possible that we have misapplied this idea in our heads and made ourselves out to be pure, innocent (howbeit sometimes slightly misguided) people who are just too cute to be bad?

Instead, after observing sheep for the last several months, I am convinced of a new reality. We are an aimless group who, without the daily guidance and protection provided by the Great Shepherd, would have no means of taking care of ourselves. We would be in a ditch, needing a way out. We are helpless, but we serve a God who is able.

I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep... I know my own and my own know me. (John10:11-14)