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How to avoid getting caught looking at the lyrics during praise and worship

(It’s guest post Friday!  Here’s one by Amber Woodard. You can check out her blog here.  If you want to write a guest post for SCL, here’s how!)

How to avoid getting caught looking at the lyrics during praise and worship

So maybe you’re like me and didn’t grow up with a “church home.” You attended sporadically but usually didn’t commit to one particular place for some inane reason, such as “they don’t have a coffee shop” or “their youth pastor looks like a walrus.” But then, something clicked, and you found the church of your dreams. You started attending regularly and started enjoying yourself, even looking forward to going to service every week with one tiny exception.

Praise and worship time (henceforth referred to as p & w and pronounced as “p and dub” should you choose to read this aloud to all of your friends and family).

I’m not knocking p & w. It is the only time that you can sing at the top of your lungs without fear of retribution and mockery of your, shall we say, tone deaf voice. However, p & w separates the church men from the church boys; it’s when you really get a sense of who has grown up in a church and who was a little late to the party.

A lot of newfangled churches have planned for this by putting the p & w lyrics on screens that surround the praise team. This is all fine and dandy, but if you’re trying to get in good with the lifers, you don’t want to be caught reading the screen. If that sounds like you, then you’re in luck.

Over the course of many years and many churches, I have developed a few methods that  allowed me to look at the lyrics for the p & w songs without being busted by my new friends…or making it seem like I’m intently studying members of the praise team.

The “look to the heavens” method: In this one, you flick your eyes upwards, as though looking to the heavens because you’re so overwhelmed by God’s goodness. This gives you the benefit of looking super spiritual and letting you sneak a peek.

The “locking eyes with the praise team” method: Performing in front of people is nerve-wracking, even for the best p & w pros. Sometimes a reassuring smile from a member of the congregation can give them a boost and let them know they’re doing a good job. So what if you just happen to be able to study the lyrics for a second? You’re encouraging someone, and doesn’t that matter more than anything else?

The “study ahead of time” method: This one involves doing a little prep work, but the payoff can be big. Before you start attending a church regularly, begin listening to your local Christian music station.

I live in Nashville, which just happens to have two of these stations. Try to contain your jealousy. If you don’t have a local station, listen to one of Nashville’s stations online. Once you’ve listened to the radio a couple of weeks, you’ll start realizing that you sort of know the lyrics to some of the songs. Once you start attending church, you’ll realize that they use some of the songs that you already kinda know the lyrics to.

You can mumble your way through some of the songs and still come out okay. Also, most churches use a Chris Tomlin song at least once a week (mine used two during last week. Two! That’s 66% of our p & w time!), so learn a couple of his big hits, and you’re golden.

The “choosing the church that has released a praise CD” method: Again, this one involves prep work, but if used with the last method, you can come into the church looking like an expert. Buy the church’s CD and start listening to it whenever the Christian radio stations have a commercial break.

The “join in December” method: This one is pretty self-explanatory. Most churches will rely on a heavy dose of Christmas-themed praise and worship songs during the month of December, so if you join then and consider yourself a Christmas music aficionado, you should be able to coast into the New Year without any problems.

If you use one or more of these methods, you’ll be a p & w pro faster than you can sing the chorus to “Our God is Greater”!

For more great writing from Amber, check out her blog.

 

Wishing you had an easy job, like working at a church.

Don’t you wish you worked at a church?  That would be such a dream job!

I’ve never been blessed that way, but my assumption is that, other than Sunday, a church job is kind of like having a really long quiet time.  You probably get to read the Bible all day and take long breaks in your prayer closet and spend eight hours a day growing your own spiritual life.

I’m sure the phone rings sometimes, like when someone needs a casserole of hope after a death in the family or a youth group van breaks down. But for the most part, I imagine the average day is filled with a lot of “me time.”

And God is your boss.  How cool is that?  There’s no politics or in-fighting or gossip like at the average corporate job.  It’s just a collection of people, a family really, living out of the gifts God has given them.  Loving on each other.  (You actually work at a place where “love on” is an acceptable verb!)  Everyone is all on the same page, pouring out to each other the love that God is pouring into them.

I bet there’s always an acoustic guitar being played somewhere in the office.  (Do they even call them an “office” at church?  Let’s call it a “happy holy spot” instead.) And when you go to make copies on the printer, you’ll hear the acoustic guitar and probably join an impromptu sing-along right there in the mailroom and make up a song.

Is it even really a full-time job?  Seriously, other than maybe a few hours on Sunday morning, what else are you doing?  Praying? Worshipping? Holding car washes to raise money for mission trips?  What’s that take, four hours tops? How do you spend the rest of the week?

Being loved on, I bet.  See, there it is again!  That’s the kind of thing that is constantly happening if you work at a church, but good luck saying that at a real job.  If tomorrow in one of my meetings at work I said, “I really need to love on these third-quarter budget estimates,” I would immediately get “laughed on” by my co-workers.  Not if you work at church.  They support each other!

Plus, they’ve got an entire congregation full of people that love them unconditionally.  Imagine having hundreds of people that are fans of what you do and how you do it.  People that are going to wholeheartedly accept what you do and never write mean emails no matter if they disagree with your decisions.  Me?  I read negative opinions from our customers all the time.  People that work in churches?  They’re opening thank-you notes and sunshine emails and gift baskets with delicious cheeses and spiced meats all day long.

Someday, if they ever sunset my job (a fun-sounding euphemism we’re actually now using to replace the word “eliminate”), maybe I’ll get a church job and get to live the sweet life.

(This originally appeared in the Stuff Christians Like book.  If you want to pick up a copy, click here!)

The 1 question I ask when I’m afraid.

I’m pretty confident on the outside. But on the inside, I’m pretty fearful.

I think psychologists call this scientific state, “being human.”

And when I’m afraid of something, I don’t just casually fear it. I go all in, marshaling every degree of creativity I possess as I dress up the monster hiding under the bed. (If you ever doubt you’re creative, just look at the exquisite colors and words you give your fears.)

When I face new decisions, like say writing a new book that I may have turned in a few weeks ago to the editor, I often feel like I am one mistake from being a hobo.

I don’t fear just writing the wrong book.

I imagine losing my job in some sort of spectacular way that prevents me from ever finding gainful employment again. I don’t just get blacklisted in one industry; I manage to get barred from every industry on the planet. My family would leave me too, because I’d be a hobo, and they wouldn’t want to be part of my new drifter lifestyle.

Riding the rails and what not. I’d kick around the Pacific Northwest and try to become a glassblower or something, but that wouldn’t work either. Ultimately, I’d fall apart and people would use me as a cautionary tale of extreme potential gone to extreme waste.

Cue mournful trumpet sound.

But, lately, I’ve started to ask a really simple question when I’m afraid. It’s only 6 words, but I’ve been surprised how powerful those few words are. Here’s what I say when I’m afraid now:

“Where is God in this fear?”

Every time I ask that question, the answer is always the same, “Nowhere.” When I paint scary pictures in my head of failures yet to pass or horrors yet to be, they are always the same. There is no God in that fear. When I imagine myself losing everything I have and trying to pick back up the pieces of my life, there is no God to comfort me. When I imagine a tragedy that has crumbled my family, there is no God to reassure us. When I imagine any sort of fear about my future, there is no God present.

There’s just me. With my meager skills and abilities trying to navigate the entire world.

That should be scary. I’m wildly incapable of trying to control the world. I’ve tried. It didn’t work.

God, on the other hand? You’d be surprised how very few things get out of control when they are in his hands. Never is the word that comes to mind. You’d be surprised how many situations are beyond his ability to redeem. None is the word that comes to mind. You’d be surprised how many monsters are bigger than him. Zero is the word that comes to mind.

When I ask myself, “Where is God in this fear?” I pause long enough to realize the apocalyptic future world my fear is telling me is almost here has no God in it. But my world does. The world where he calls me son and beloved and work-of-art does.

Fear is a lonely thing because it always tries to tell you there is no God. Don’t listen to it. God is near. And fear is a liar.

Question:

What’s a fear you have right now in your life?

Tithing via debit card to earn airline miles.

Is that wrong?

Probably.

I say probably because, let’s be real, it wasn’t specifically mentioned in the Bible. When Jesus told the story of the old widow and the mite, he didn’t say, “And do you know what is most pleasing about her heart? She had a chance to tithe with her debit card, which would have allowed her to earn airline miles and magazine subscriptions and espresso machines, and she didn’t. That is how you should give. Amen.”

But that’s where we are right now. Some churches have debit machines in the lobby where you can use your debit card to tithe. And I have nothing against that. It’s about the heart, not a basket or a bucket.

What you give to God in the pew can be just as meaningful as what you give to God in the lobby. But the offering bucket won’t get you one-step closer to an airline ticket to Destin, Florida or a two night stay at Disney World. So if your debit card does offer points back to you every time you use it, what should you do with those holy points?

Is this a “give to Disney what is Disney’s” moment, kind of like “give to Caesar what is Caesar’s”? Go ahead and enjoy the fruits of your first fruits? Or should you donate to the church the Eddie Bauer fleece pullover your tithe earned you? Maybe that’s the ticket? Just a sea of pastors across the country wearing free Haggar slacks they were given via debit cards? Is that what you want, a wave of pleated pants washing over the entire evangelical community? Wrinkle resistant khaki after wrinkle resistant khaki cascading throughout the land?

Those are our two options. You give with a gracious heart but secretly know you’re getting a free subscription to Shape magazine, or you make every pastor in the country wear Haggar pants.

It’s a pickle. It’s a real pickle.

I didn’t have a great answer for my friend Adam Short when he brought this dilemma to me.

What do you think about the whole situation?

Is it wrong to tithe with a debit card you earn points on?

Finding out there won’t be an ocean in heaven.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow your flow, Paul. Pump the brakes on the Revelations. What was that last one? Back that up, por favor. Is this really what Revelation 21:1 says?

“Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea.”

Did you catch that last part?

“No longer any sea.”

Let me go ahead and explain that for you, in a hermeneutical kind of way.

That means no dolphins.

You know all that dolphin art you collect, where they’re jumping in the air forming the shape of a heart against a sunset and a sailboat with an air brushed “4-eva” painted on it?

That’s not happening in heaven.

Surfing? Nope.

Jetski jumps off  waves? Nope.

Beachfront property that you can finally own cause you’re a “heaveniarre?” Nope.

No sea, which is a bummer. Especially if you grew up in Missouri and thought, “I’ll see the ocean when I’m dead.” You won’t. I hate to be the one to break it to you, but you won’t.

More people should be talking about this. This fact should be in the marketing campaigns for every beach town tourist board.

“Come to Panama City Beach and enjoy the ocean, ’cause you won’t get to in heaven.”

“Vacation in Florida! We’ve got more beaches than heaven!”

Will it still be awesome? Of course. We’ll be with Jesus, are you kidding me? It will be amazing.

We just won’t get to see him walk on water. Something to think about. Something to really think about.

Question:

Be honest: Did you know there wouldn’t be an ocean in heaven?

The Global Leadership Summit

Bill Hybels is a ninja.

I don’t know how to say it any clearer than that.

From the impact Willow Creek has had on modern church to the influence his books have had on young Christians like me, he is awesome.

So much so that, one Thanksgiving, the entire Acuff family sat around a small TV at a rented beach house watching an interview he did. This was the first and last time we spent Thanksgiving night captivated by a DVD of a pastor.

But there we were, watching Bill Hybels talk about leadership and life with an up-and-coming musician named “Bono.” (Perhaps you’ve heard of him? He’s part of a small band called “U2.”)

The interview was unbelievable, and not just because it was Bono. What was so great was the way Hybels challenged Christians to get involved in the issues tearing our world apart.

Fast forward a few years, and the folks at the Willow Creek Global Leadership Summit asked if the readers of Stuff Christians Like would like a discount to their next event. My immediate answer was “Bill Hybels is a ninja.” That’s a confusing way to answer a question, though, so I changed my answer to “Yes!”

The goal of the summit, which will be held on August 9-10, is to transform Christian leaders around the world with an annual injection of vision, skill development, and inspiration for the sake of the local church. This is the 17th summit they’ve had, and like every year before it, the lineup of leaders who will be there to serve and inspire is ridiculous:

Bill Hybels

Condoleezza Rice

John Ortberg

Craig Groeschel

Geoffrey Canada

Jim Collins

Patrick Lencioni

Cheryl Wudunn

Mario Vega

Marc Kielburger

Christine Caine

Pranitha Timothy

William Ury

Gungor

Kevin Olusola

As a pastor’s kid, I’m a huge fan of events that encourage and equip the local church. As someone who is trying to grow into a leader, I love events that challenge me to grow beyond my comfort zone.

This year, more than 65,000 people will watch the summit at one of 200 different locations via satellite broadcast. It will be shown in more than 85 countries and translated into 39 different languages.

If you want to be part of the summit, register by June 26 for the best rates and enter “acuffblog” to save $20 on the registration fee.

The theme this year is “Lead Where You Are,” and it’s going to be awesome. I hope you’ll check out the summit. For more info, visit their website.

Stuff (Single) Christian (Girls) Like: Getting Upset With Guys For Not Acting Like Real Men

(It’s guest post Friday!  Here’s one by John Crist. You can check out his website here and follow him on Twitter @johnbcrist.  If you want to write a guest post for SCL, here’s how!)

Stuff (Single) Christian (Girls) Like: Getting Upset With Guys For Not Acting Like Real Men 

One time I pursued a girl for 11 months and she had no idea it was happening.

I thought pursuing a girl consisted of texting her once in a while, checking out her Facebook photos, and asking her to come over and watch a movie in my (parents’) basement.

Wait, girls need more than this now? Since when?

All this happened when I was 15. And by 15, I mean 26.

Christian girls have become increasingly intolerant of Christian bros these days…and maybe for good reason. As a 28-yr-old guy who eats Lunchables, considers getting in the pool as bathing, and still accesses his bed via ladder, I’m not above this criticism. But ladies, I assure you: we’ve all heard your concerns.

Here are the 10 most common statements guys hear from Christian women. (And, for the sake of equality, the average guys’ response…)

Girls’ Statement:

I need a man that is really going to pursue me.

Guys’ Response:

Yeah, I was game for that… until I saw your ‘101 Non-Negotiable Future Husband Qualities’ list. I’ll pass, thanks.

Girls’ Statement:

He plays a lot of video games.

Guys’ Response:

I’m just doing what I’m passionate about. Isn’t that what Jesus would have wanted?

Girls’ Statement:

He seemed interested after our second date, but then I never heard from him again.

Guys’ Response:

You gave me a pre-highlighted copy of The Five Love Languages, asked me to meet your parents and, if we had a girl, what I thought about the name Sophia with a P-H instead of an F.

Girls’ Statement:

I think he has anger management issues.

Guys’ Response:

I’m just really competitive.

Girls’ Statement:

He spends a lot of time playing fantasy sports.

Guys’ Response:

You watch The Bachelorette. Same thing.

Girls’ Statement:

He just doesn’t seem to have any real ambition in life.

Guys’ Response:

Since when do church internships not count as a future plan?!

Girls’ Statement:

Why can’t this 25-yr-old guy be as spiritually mature as my 55-yr-old pastor?

Guys’ Response:

Um, I’m 25.

Girls’ Statement:

I don’t like to watch guy movies like Die Hard or Transformers because they’re not realistic.

Guys’ Response:

You’re favorite movie is The Notebook, that’s not realistic either.

Girls’ Statement:

He’s always using the “Water into Wine” argument to defend his excessive drinking habits.

Guys’ Response:

For. The. Last. Time… JESUS DRANK!!!

Girls’ Statement:

I don’t ask for much, just a combination of Bradley Cooper, Thor and Ryan Reynolds.

Guys’ Response:

I’m not taking you to the movies anymore.

Here’s the thing. Single men and women are both living in a fantasyland. Guys like to play video games and fantasy sports because it makes us feel like real men, like we’re accomplishing something greater than our abilities. There is no game called Fantasy Wendy’s Manager…because we can go make that a reality tomorrow.

But both sexes are guilty of living in the same fantasy world. A top 10 non-negotiable husband qualities list is a fantasy.  Most of the dating shows women watch feature a first date that includes a helicopter ride to an exotic waterfall where the couple feeds each other chocolate covered strawberries. Then I take a girl to Chili’s, and I’m a jerk. Its 2/$20…and it comes WITH dessert! C’mon ladies!

Conclusion: Dudes, get it together. Women, be realistic.

(If you want to read more from John, check out his website.)

Feeling slightly disappointed when someone accepts our fake offer of generosity

Christians find it nice to tell someone, “Please let me know if thre’s anything I can do for you.  Anything at all.”  Especially if that person recently experienced a tragedy or is about to set out on some big adventure that will clearly require the help of others.  It feels good to write that blank check of support.  Plus, as a Christian, we’re probably supposed to say that.  I don’t know if the exact phrase is in the Bible, but I’m sure there’s something close to that in the New Testament.  But what if someone calls your bluff?  What if in the middle of enjoying that really warm feeling of fictional support, someone tries to take you up on the offer?  That’s bogus, right?

For bad people, that is.  Not you and me of course, but for people who say, “Please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you” and don’t really mean it.  That happens you know.  I know you and I always say it without conditions, but some people throw out fake offers of generosity.

It happened to a friend of mine who was going on a mission trip.  She spoke at a church about the trip and afterward a man approached her to offer his unconditional support.  When he asked if there was anything he could do to help her, she said “I could really use some financial support.”  He looked her dead in the eye and said, “I’ll pray for you.”

Good grief.  Didn’t she know the protocol of the fake support offer?  I say, “Please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you,” and then you say, “I’ll let you know; thank you so much for your generosity.”  Then we go our separate ways and I get to enjoy about 67 percent of what it would feel like if I actually helped you .  You’re not supposed to take me up on the offer.  That’s just rude.

But what if you run into someone who doesn’t know you’re only pretending when you offer support?  There’s got to be a better approach than just saying, I’ll pray for you.”  Here are two ideas:

Say, “God gifted me with the spiritual gift of thought, not action.”  Tell them you’ll be thinking about them next Saturday when they struggle to move everything they own across town.  No one likes to help people when they move, but you can’t just say, “I hate moving, no thanks” when they ask you to bring your pickup truck over and help out.  So instead, try to tell them that your particular spiritual gift involves thinking about solutions to challenges, not actually participating in the solution.

Or, just throw your car keys.  It’s better to walk home than it is to have someone actually cash your blank check of help.  But it doesn’t really have to be your car keys, anything shiny will do.  That’s why I always keep a handful of silver glitter in my pockets.  If I get pushed into a conversational corner I throw the glitter into the air, and while the person I’m talking to is distracted, I run away.  An additional benefit is that I look like a cool magician, so I’ve got that going for me.

Typos in the Bible.

Recently I wrote the entire book of Proverbs by hand.

I did this because I’m holier than you and want to have a waterslide at my house in heaven.

You might be satisfied with just a regular mansion, but I have pretty high hopes for a ridiculous tree fort when I get up there. Booby traps, rope ladder, fire place, the works. Granted, it’s probably not nice to have a booby trapped treehouse in heaven because so many people won’t be expecting to encounter a booby trap behind the pearly gates. But that’s kind of what makes it even awesomer.

Writing the book out was fun and took me about 6 months. Part of what took so long was that I kept finding errors in Proverbs. The biggest of all was perhaps Proverbs 24:16.

Don’t act like you don’t know it by heart. Fine, I’ll write it out for you:

It says, “for though the righteous do not fall, the wicked stumble when calamity strikes.”

Great verse! Lays out clearly how we’re called to live. Don’t stumble like the wicked. Be righteous. Done and done. That’s how I’ve always learned that verse. Only there was a problem when I read it in my Bible.

In my Bible, it didn’t say that. In my Bible it said:

“for though the righteous fall seven times, they rise again, but the wicked stumble when calamity strikes.”

That can’t be right. Though for years I’ve spouted clichés like “I’m not perfect, I’m forgiven,” I haven’t really believed them. Deep in the shadows of my heart, I’ve believed that to be righteous means you don’t fall. You don’t make mistakes. You don’t mess up. That was all something that happened pre-salvation. Post-salvation is for error-free living.

And if you do make a mistake, you don’t “get up,” you “give up.” At least for a certain period of time. If time heals all wounds, then time covers all sins too. You can’t get up until you’ve paid some secret, silent sort of penance. But that’s not what the Bible says.

The Bible doesn’t say, “The righteous do not fall.” It actually says, “for though the righteous fall seven times, they rise again.”

That’s not a maybe. The verse doesn’t say, “If the righteous happen to possibly fall.” It says, “for though the righteous fall seven times.” It’s a definite, not a maybe, statement.

OK, fine, but where’s the shame they’re supposed to pay before they rise again? Where’s the condemnation? Where do they earn the title of righteous again? How many good decisions does it take to clean yourself up after each bad decision?

It doesn’t say.

And so it must be a typo. It must be a mistake in my version of the Bible. It can’t be true. Unless, and this is a big unless, Jesus died for all our sins. That’s crazy if you think about it, someone dying the worst death imaginable so that when we fall, we can still get up. When we fail, we can still be righteous.

That’s the only possible explanation I have for a verse like this.

Or it’s a typo and Zondervan owes me a refund with this error-riddled Bible. (Whole thing is full of unbelievable grace that makes no sense, absolutely lousy with typos.)

Snake handling.

The other day I saw a news headline that said:

“Young snake handlers say they grasp the power of faith.”

My first thought was, “Please let them not be from the south.”

As a resident of the Bible Belt, you kind of always hope that “interesting” news like this is happening somewhere else. Seriously, would it kill Maine to take on just one of these weird evangelical stories? How come we in the south have to hog them all?

But let’s be honest, there was no way that story was not about the Bible Belt. I grew up in Massachusetts, and I didn’t know snake handling existed. Lobster handling? Mussel handling? Chowda’ handling? Yes. Snake? No.

So I quickly changed my thought to, “Please let them not be from Tennessee.” This thought is less about national perception and more about me not wanting to be in close proximity to amateurs who are illegally (and casually) transporting pit vipers. I’m weird like that.

But, nope, the church in question is in Tennessee. So being the journalistic blogger I am, committed to getting to the heart of a story through research and careful analysis, I grabbed my “press hat” and called my friend Matthew Paul Turner. Together, we spent 6 months embedded in the snake church. It was slow work at first, people look at you weird if you show up at a church on a Sunday and just yell, “Where are the snakes? Get to the snake part! Snakes! Snakes! Snakes!”

In the months that would come, though, we would both grow a lot. Matthew proved to be great at timber rattlesnakes. He’s got this little Ace of Bass song he sings to them that really seems to relax the snakes. Me? I was more of a diamondback guy myself.

Ultimately, we both ended up leaving the church because there wasn’t enough “meat.” It was a snake seeker friendly church. Lot of garter snakes, very little cobras. I wasn’t getting fed. I need deep Bible and black mambas. Not casual worship music and corn snakes.