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When The Spirit of the Lord Moves In My Heart, I Will Dance Like JOSEPH Danced?

I have to be honest, I'm not really sure who the Jiggy Gents Gang are, but the fact that they were doing the Carlton Dance backstage at our church makes me think that they must be epically cool.  

The soundtrack might be different, but this is what I imagine happens at every party in Heaven...

 

Thanks to @MarcBolling for sharing.

From The Vault: Funded by the Generous Sacrifice of Someone Else

The modern church is the best deal in town.  Lights, music, graphics, emotion, prayer, support, friends, counseling, oversight, accountability, teaching, and it even has a nursery.  This place has it all!  It will help your marriage, teach your kids, and save your soul.  It's a place where you can laugh, cry, make a friend and grab a coffee in under an hour.  

And here's the best part: it is totally free!  You never have to pay a dime.  The modern church is funded solely by the generous sacrifice of someone else.  

I'm not exactly sure who that someone else is, but I assume they can cover my part.  The lights are on, the music is loud and the preacher's hair is adequately gelled, so someone must be contributing enough for the both of us.  I've thought about giving, but my budget doesn't allow for that right now.  My money goes to those things that are really life-giving like my HBO package, my credit card bill and the local cinema.  I've taken it upon myself to keep Visa and Angelina Jolie in business, but I'm sure someone else is keeping my church in business.  

Why would I give to my church when there are perfectly good single mothers doing that?  Why would I set aside a portion of my income to give to Christ when I'm already giving a portion of my income to Toyota, Netflix and that timeshare I've never used?  

Look, it's not like I owe Jesus anything.  Grace is free.  Salvation is free.  I'm off the hook.  Sure, the preacher's droning about money is annoying, but I've learned to block it out.  It's like the Salvation Army bell at Christmas...just keep walking and don't make eye contact.  He says it's about stewardship and prioritizing your life.  He quoted some Scripture about "where your treasure is there your heart will be also", but I don't really buy into all of that.  I suspect he's just doing what he loves best: fundraising.  Sicko!

Certainly, Jesus will understand my budgeting dilemma.  He knows his place in the line item.  Mortgage, then groceries, then utilities, then recreation/entertainment, then gym payment, then internet, then shoes, then dog food, and then Jesus.  You can't argue with that; that's just solid economics.

I love my church, and I hope it keeps growing.  We need more campuses, more staff, more equipment, more programs and, to be honest, I'd like to see better desserts at the coffee bar.  It's time we move to the next level.  I'm getting tired of waiting.  I hope someone else steps up soon.

 

(originally posted September 30, 2010)

From The Vault: 7 Ways To Preach An Empty Gospel

You got carried away, didn't you?  Your sermons got too real.  The message was too risky.  You preached with too much passion.  Somebody got offended and left.  

Don't worry, it's a common mistake.  Sometimes we preachers get out of control.  We start thinking that the Word of God is actually living and active.  We start believing that God still speaks and that He changes hearts and lives.  It's a dangerous preconception really, but don't worry, it might not last too long.  Time, pressure, nasty emails or exhaustion will usually cure the pastor of preaching dangerous sermons. 

But if accusation doesn't de-motivate you and if fatigue seems far off, here are some practical ways to preach an empty Gospel this very weekend...

1. Preach more about how to reach God and less about how He reached us.

2. Consider how this sermon might impact the offering.

3. Take out the controversial content.

4. Only preach on a subject that you have mastered.

5. Stay calm.

6. Spend more time preparing your outline than in prayer.

7. Ask nothing of the listener.

 

There you have it...7 Ways To Be The Most Boring, Ineffective, Safe, Popular Pastor who preaches the emptiest Gospel around.  It's not the method that Jesus used, but things were different back then.  Here's the upside: you won't get any nasty emails next week!  You won't get any results either, but...ya know...whatever.

 

(originally posted on July 27, 2010)

From The Vault: Did iTunes Ruin The Bible?

In my opinion, iTunes is one of the greatest discoveries in human history.  Fire, the printing press, flight, donuts, and iTunes - this is the Mt. Rushmore of ingenuity.  These things changed the way we live.

iTunes was a portal that led to a better way to listen to music.  It killed cassette tapes and compact discs in one fell swoop.  You may still own a CD player but, be honest, it's just your angry protest to change.  Go ahead and shake your fist at an MP3 world; you and my grandfather would have loved each other.

For the rest of us, iTunes changed the way we listened to music.  The real miracle of downloadable music wasn't that you could carry your music around with you (the Walkman did that years ago), the real miracle was that you no longer had to buy the entire album.  Now, for the first time, you could simply choose the songs you liked.  Hate the ballad?  Unclick!  Not feeling track #2?  Don't buy it!  Just want the single?  Just buy the single!  iTunes gave us power; the power to pick and choose.

As if injected with tiger's blood and Adonis DNA, our newfound power is nearly corrupting.  We have become deliriously selective.  We no longer watch the entire movie, we TiVo it and watch the best parts.  We don't read entire articles, we read tweets.  We rarely watch documentaries, we watch shorts.  Pick and choose.  Find what you like.  Ignore the rest.

This works fine with music or television or the Facebook machine, but this new power doesn't work when it comes to the Bible.  You don't get to fast forward or select only the passages you like.  You don't get to click and unclick certain books or chapters.  People have tried, but it doesn't work that way.  The Bible speaks of grace...but it speaks of judgement, too.  The Bible speaks of a righteous standard...but it offers forgiveness for when we fail.  The Bible speaks of healing...but it deals with death.  The Bible accepts sinners...but it asks us to change.  It explains and baffles.  It soothes and angers.  It is poetic and literal.  The Bible isn't iTunes.  You've got to buy the entire album.

 

(originally posted on March 4, 2011)

 

From The Vault: How To Leave Your Church...Reality TV Style

Reality television is ruining my life.  My brother-in-law will no longer speak to me, I wept over a kid named Drew (who sang LIKE AN ANGEL!), and I nearly used this hashtag last week: #teamastro.  

See what I mean?  

I don't know how this happened.  My best guess is that Heather used some Oprah Winfrey voodoo magic on me.  That can be the only explanation for my newfound affinity for chick TV.  The one good thing that has come from the hours of brain-rotting I have acquiesced to is that I now have some new ways you can leave your church.  

Here are five ways to tell your pastor you are leaving...reality TV style:

5. "Pastor, the tribe has spoken; it's time for us to go." (if you happen to have a flame nearby that you could extinguish at the moment you say this, it would add some nice drama)

4. "After visiting a lot of churches, Pastor, your church...(exaggerated pause)...is in the bottom three."

3.  This spot is reserved for the plot twist shocker where the pastor kicks you out RIGHT BEFORE you decide to leave.  Everyone gasps.

2. "Pastor, we've had some great times.  There was some real chemistry at first, but I'm afraid it's time for our journey to end.  I do not have a rose for you today." (then you awkwardly walk the pastor to his car which is parked 1,000 yards away)

1. "Pastor, I wish we could stay longer, but we have to leave because...the cabs are heeere!"

 

(originally posted March 15, 2011; slight revisions)

Programming Note...

It's the last week of the year and I'm shamefully devoid of motivation, so I have two choices: 1) Feign inspiration and write dressed-up drivel or 2) Repost some thoughts from earlier in the year.  After looking left, right, and left again, I've not-so-confidently chosen (drumroll please...) option number two.  

So, this week I'll be parading out a lineup of reruns.  If these are new to you, you can easily pretend I just wrote them by firelight the evening before (to help the visual: I'm smoking a pipe and wearing "spectacles").  If you've already read these posts, just use your Christmas morning gift-opening expertise and act surprised.  Either way, I need you guys to pretend this week so that I don't have to.  Thanks!

Christmas At Gateway

This is what talented people do to celebrate Christmas...

 

My Shameful Confession: I Hate Christmas

I don’t like Christmas.  Okay, I actually kind of hate Christmas.  I rarely tell people that.  When I do, there is always an awkward lip-biting moment where we both wish we could go back in time and try again.  It’s pretty uncomfortable.  I imagine that must be what’s it like to tell someone that you backed into his Audi or that you’re gay (both the Audi and gay communities would probably disagree).

I don’t hate Christmas in a trendy, self-aware kind of way.  It’s not that simple.  If I was just down on capitalism, I’d decorate a Charlie Brown tree with half-burnt bras and conspiracy-theory paraphernalia, watch some Michael Moore docs and feel all sorts of Ted-Danson-good about my decreasing carbon footprint. (aren't stereotypes fun?) 

And I don’t hate Christmas because I’m too dignified for the middle-class mosh pit of shopping.  I only wish!  I would be so much cooler if I just overlooked the holiday because it was beneath my luxury-car-driving, mahogany-pipe-smoking, sweater-vest-wearing decorum.  I would read Dostoevsky and sign my kids up for lacrosse, and I’d pounce on any opportunity to speak ill of Christmas co-conspirators beneath my station like elves, or giant tins of popcorn, or Old Navy.

No, my disdain for Christmas comes from a place that is dark and seedy - the underbelly of an already underwhelming personality.  My holiday hatred germinates in a crepuscule more embarrassing than empathetic.  I hate Christmas because of a character flaw: I’m insecure.

Four years ago, Heather and I dared to become church planters.  This was an abandon-everything-and-start-over tightrope walk.   Four months ago we repeated the high wire act by moving across the country for reasons that only adrenaline junkies, tornado chasers or the homeless could understand.  Our life on the run has made us spiritually full but financially empty.  In short, we’ve been broke since the Beijing Olympics.  Don’t feel sorry for us, we’re not broke like Jack Dawson stowing away on the Titanic, we’re just broke like most of you.  Sucks, right?

So at Christmas, I feel like a poor provider, a halting husband and a bad dad.  Cue insecurity.  And feeling like Bad Dad causes me to act like Bad Santa – plenty of sulking, some unimaginative swearing, and the occasional bah humbug thrown in for effect.

I tell you this because I’ve come to realize that insecurity is such a misplaced reason to hate Christmas.  I didn’t suffer loss on Christmas, I didn’t get dumped on Christmas, Santa didn’t leave coal in my stocking on Christmas (not yet).  I have no good rationale for mourning the holidays, but insecurity convinces me otherwise.  

Insecurity is a terrible dictator.  If allowed preeminence, it will rule areas of your life with brutality like Moammar Khadafi   Kim Jong Il  that scary uncle in The Lion King.  It will control your emotions, manipulate your actions and sabotage your relationships.  Insecurity makes you a difficult person to live with.  Just ask my wife.

I’m trying to change.  I’m learning to buy smaller gifts, ignore what others are doing and be content to drool at iPhones from a distance.  My insecurities aren’t gone, but they’re fading.  I have people around me who love me for no other reason than the simple fact that I’m there.  That’s something I’m still learning to embrace.

The same is true for you.  You’re better than the accusation that hurt you, the betrayal that haunts you or the failure that clings to you.  You’re loved by God, adored by your family and accepted in the Body of Christ.  Insecurity is a lie that only has power when you bow to it.  Don’t let another Christmas pass living under the weight of insecurity’s brutality.  I know I won’t.

Joy To The World - feat. My Sister (kind of)

Ladies and Gentlemen, Kellyyyyyyyyy Allsopp!!!!!!!  (Front row. Third from the left.) 

 

 

This was a choir special that our church did last weekend.  So proud of my sister!  She was amazing!  Oh yeah, Rebecca Pfortmiller was pretty good, too.  

Holiday Lingo For A New Generation

Christianese: adj. (Linguistics / language) 1. a (marginally offensive) colloquialism for religious banter (i.e. bow your hearts or clap offering)  

It's what we speak when we could care less how devout we sound.  And Christmas time is when we speak it fluently!!!

• "Keep Christ in Christmas!" (spoken angrily)

• "Reason for the season." (spoken happily)

• "There was no room in the inn.  Is there room in your heart?"  (spoken inquisitively; accompanied by raised eyebrows and a slight head nod as if to ask, "Well? Is there?")

The cool thing is that nearly every American (atheists don't count, long story...) speaks this pseudo-language in December.  Christian slogans are as popular as the open bar at your office Christmas party.  Everone seems to get into the holiday spirit and the contagious vernacular flows.  Like booing at a baseball game or bits-o-Spanish at the local fajita shack, it's a language that we can all speak with faux confidence.  More chips, por favor?

But, I must admit, I'm tired of these threadbare holiday retreads.  I've heard them all 10,000 times.  Can't we change them up a bit?  Christmas carols get made over to be more catchy (d*mn you, Justin Bieber!), why can't we do the same thing with  Chistmas slogans?  I'm not suggesting that we retire our holiday Christabulary, just rethink it.  Jazz it up a little.  Modernize it.

If you're game, here are a few suggestions...

 

[old] "Don't forget the true meaning of Christmas."  |  [new] "Christmas: keep it retro!"

[old] "Jesus is the reason for the season."  |  [new] "Santa Claus is a fraud."

[old] "Best. Christmas. Ever!"  |  [new] "I got an iPad2!"

[old] "Happy Birthday, Jesus!"  |  [new] "Go, J-man, it's your birthday." (requires a 50 Cent impression)

[old] "Mele Kalikimaka"  |  [new] "Dear Hawaii, your song sucks."

[old] "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus."  |  [new] "I'm not sure, but I think my parents are into role play."

 

So, there you have it.  Holiday lingo for a new generation!  Try them out while sipping eggnog and fuming over the sloppy execution of the White Elephant Gift Exchange at your next Christmas shindig.  This could be huge!