Jon Acuff's Blog, page 117

Cancelling church on Christmas Day.

I spent the worst Christmas Eve of my life in an Arby's in New Jersey. At least I think it was Arby's. It might have been a "Big Boy," that fast food restaurant with the little cartoon kid who has the wavy hair that looks like mine when I don't get a haircut often enough.

It's hard to remember which one I was in because I was crying so much over my plate of sad french fries.

And, no, these tears were not based off the Arby's jingle "Good Mood Food." That thing wouldn't come out until years later and, much like Putty from Seinfeld, I'm not opposed to Arby's. I was crying because I was in an Arby's on Christmas Eve somewhere in New Jersey. Nobody was fist pumping. Nobody was four lokoing the night away. Very few people were wearing Ed Hardy denim jackets on which a tiger is inexplicably fighting a dragon. It was dead inside, just a smattering of road wary travelers battling the New Jersey Turnpike and slumber as they headed to their final Christmas destinations.

Our road ended in Charlotte, North Carolina. Being a pastor's kid is like being Spiderman. With great power comes great responsibility. On the plus side, you have your own racy theme song, "Son of a Preacher Man." On the negative side, your dad has to work Christmas Eve. Which means, instead of leaving early for your grandparent's house in North Carolina, you can't drive away from Massachusetts once the candlelight service is over.

That's what we did that year. But one year church fell on a Sunday, which put us in a bit of a bind.

To cancel or not to cancel church on Christmas day? That is the question.

And it's a question every pastor in the country is asking right now. As you are well aware, Christmas day falls on a Sunday this year.

A friend who is a pastor told me that his church decided not to have service that day. A woman asked, "No church on Sunday? You must not love the Lord."

That's a fairly broad jump for cancelling church, but it is a debatable topic. I am personally glad that our church is not having service on Sunday this year. Why?

1. It gives the staff a chance to celebrate Christmas at home. Working at a church can be an incredibly difficult job. I'm glad they get to celebrate with their families this year.

2. I want to be home celebrating with my family.

3. Now I don't have to tell my pastor that I missed church because I was starting a home church that only meets on Christmas Sundays. Or once every seven years.

4. It's easier to hide the Elf on the Shelf if I'm not worried about getting up early for church.

I'm kidding! My Elf on the Shelf skills are legendary. I don't need the extra sleep.

And if you want to hold church on Christmas Sunday, that's awesome. We did that when I was growing up and, although the second grade me couldn't fathom why I was being pulled away from presents, the 35-year-old me is more understanding.

How about your church? Are you guys holding service or canceling this year?

SCLQ – Booty, God, Booty the Video: Part 3 – Jesus Jukes

Here's week 3 of the new video series I did with LifeChurch.tv. Today's video is titled, "Jesus Jukes." (Here are the links to part 1 and part 2 if you missed them.)

 

 

 

Questioning people's parenting skills by the gifts they give their kids.

(It's guest post Friday! Here is a Christmas themed post from John Crist. John is a standup comedian from Colorado. If you want to guest post, here's how!)

Questioning People's Parenting Skills By The Gifts They Give Their Kids. By John Crist  

I have a problem with Wiseman #1. Frankincense and Myrrh? Sure. I mean, as a gift, they are a little bit of a stretch to give to an infant, but it's the thought that counts.

Gold? Thoughtless.

It's like giving an iTunes gift card to your grandmother. Before you explain iTunes, you're gonna need to explain computers, the internet, CDs, MP3s, the iPod, and Napster. She'll have had her cup of decaf and be asleep by the time you mention the Winklevoss Twins. It's just not worth it.

As a young carpenter, Jesus was probably using that bar of gold to pound nails. (Granted, if Dave Ramsey would have been living, he would have instructed Jesus to invest that gold in a high-yield, no-load, growth stock mutual fund…but that's neither here nor there.)

The worst part is that Mary and Joseph green-lighted this whole gift-giving event.

Originally, there was actually a fourth Wiseman. But he suggested giving Tonka Trucks to Jesus,  so Luke didn't bother writing about him.

Look, I'm sure Mary and Joseph were great parents. Well, except for that one time when Jesus was a kid and they lost Him downtown and couldn't find Him for three days. Other than that, great parenting. But who can blame them for their gift giving choices? They didn't know the four types of Christian Christmas Parents. But you're about to, and it's about to get bold.

Here are the Four Types of Christian Christmas Parents

1. The "Giving-the-Christian-Alternative-of-the-Hottest-Toys" Parents

While you were getting Teletubbies, I was getting Televangelist-tubbies. You should have seen the day all the neighborhood kids got together and played Teletubbies vs. televangelist-tubbies in the cul-de-sac. The Purple Teletubbie fought the purple-haired televangelist-tubbie. Classic.

2. The "Let's-Compare-Jesus-to-Santa-Claus" Parents

They both do miracles, they're both omnipresent, and they both give gifts. This was the perfect comparison until I got to college and realized Santa Claus wasn't real.  I know what you're thinking, "Wait, John, you didn't find out that Santa wasn't real until college?!" I was homeschooled.

3. The "Giving-Gifts-With-Subtle-Hints" Parents

When I was 13, I got deodorant for Christmas. Thanks mom. When did you realize I should start wearing deodorant? April? And you decided to wait nine months because you figured it would be less awkward than just setting it on my sink one morning and saying, "Use this." It was more awkward at Christmas. Trust me. 

4. The "We-Don't-Celebrate-Christmas" Parents

Not a smart move. Good luck sending your kids back to school to interact with kids who got lots of sweet presents. That will be awkward. Wait, who are we kidding? The "We-Don't-Celebrate-Christmas" parents are obviously homeschooling their children, so this won't be a problem. (Again, I was homeschooled, which gives me insider immunity anytime I reference homeschooling.)

Which parents did you have?

Which parent are you?

(For more great stuff from John Crist, follow him on Twitter or check out his standup and sketch comedy videos!)

Doing life together.

Move over, "going through a season," you've been replaced by an even more ubiquitous Christian phrase.

You had a good run. Don't get down on yourself. You were like the Peyton Manning of Christian phrases. Nobody could stop you. Not even "love on." And for a while I thought that one was going to take the crown. That's a solid fake verb kind of phrase.

I want to love on my neighbors.

I'm going to love on a family who is going through a season right now.

Hearing Prince always makes me want to get my love on.

Not the right usage? Fair enough.

But it doesn't really matter because love on's reign as top Christian phrase is over. It failed to watch the throne! Doing life together crept up like kudzu across a Mississippi highway. It's been around for a while, but suddenly it's everywhere. Part of the reason is that it can describe almost any activity on the planet.

Going water skiing? You're doing life together.

Reading through the latest John Eldredge book with some guys? You're doing life together.

Bringing a friend who burned off their eyebrows in a freak roman candle accident a casserole of hope? You're doing life together!

It's perfect. And you can almost hear Jesus saying it in the Bible, can't you? Think about it, the Pharisees, Sadducees and the Hiphopotamus standing around saying, "Jesus, why do you keep hanging out with sinners? Why do you keep having dinner with sinners?" And Jesus smiling back and saying, "This? We're doing life together."

And then they planned Frisbee golf.

Don't have that scene in your Bible? That's a shame, because Jesus has a ridiculous sidearm and has even been known to throw the hammer sometimes during ultimate Frisbee games.

Cause he was doing life together.

And so is everyone else at church.

Farewell "going through a season."

Say hi to "WWJD bracelets." They can probably tell you what it's like to have a meteoric rise and eventual retirement.

Questions:

Have you ever heard someone say "doing life together?"

What Christian phrase do you think is even more popular right now?

Losing your religion.

How do you make cobra wine?

I'm glad you asked because recently on our trip to Vietnam, I learned the recipe.

Step 1 – Catch cobra.

Step 2 – Put cobra in jug of rice wine.

Step 3 – Seal lid on. Tightly.

From what I can tell, the hardest part of making cobra wine is catching the cobra, but isn't that true of most cobra-based beverages?

What's that you say? You're more of a scorpion wine guy? You feel like it tends to have better undertones of raspberry and oak and scorpion? I've heard that myself.

But I can't say for certain, as I didn't taste either variety of wine. (Although I hear 2009 was a particularly excellent vintage of cobra.)

Snapping photos of the fun sights in the mountains of Vietnam was a blast, but it wasn't my biggest takeaway from the trip. Despite my obvious penchant for snake jokes, seeing those jugs of wine was not what I will remember most from the trip. In addition to the miraculous story I told you about a guy named Hoa, what stuck with me from the trip most was something someone said off hand one day.

Tim, an American who has lived in Vietnam for 18 years as a missionary, mentioned something while we were driving around Hanoi. Here is what he said:

"You know, when the Vietnamese bump into Christ, they go deep in their faith really quickly. They get gifted deeply and really build a strong faith in a short amount of time."

That surprised me a little, and I asked him why. His answer surprised me even more:

"Well," he said, "the Vietnamese are a spirit-based people. They grew up with animism and ancestor worship. They get that we're spirit beings living in a world that is not our final destination. They're in touch with the role of the spirit in our lives. They get the Holy Spirit. Sometimes Christians in America have a harder time grasping that part of faith."

That short conversation caught me off guard and exposed something in my own life.

I've got a whole lot of religion, but very little spirituality.

For the last year, I've worked as hard as I possibly can on being a good steward of the talents I feel like God has given me. I've spoken all over the country. I wrote Quitter. I balanced my family and my dream and hustled more than I ever have before. And the truth is, I put blood, sweat and tears into my own effort-based natural results.

Hustle, I understand. If you work hard, certain things happen. If you work harder than the next guy, certain things happen. If you push and strive, good things can happen.

But, along the way, I feel like I lost touch with the Holy Spirit. I got so focused on my own natural results, of seeing the progress of my effort, that I lost sight of the supernatural.

My faith became mechanical and mathematical. Here's the thing, though: I don't want to live a life based on my efforts.

It's exhausting. Before I was a Christian, trying to fix myself and numb the things that hurt was exhausting. Now that I'm a Christian, trying to make life work on my own is just as tiring.

I don't want that kind of faith.

I want spirit-driven faith. I want deep, soaked-in-the-Holy Spirit faith. I don't want to experience the best of what Jon Acuff is capable. That's small and tiny and insignificant. I want to experience the best of what God is capable. A supernatural God who breathed life into me and set the stars in place and moves with as much mystery and creativity as he did when he wrote a message on the wall for a king or burned a talking bush for a prophet.

I don't want to be in charge of my growth, with effort-based faith that hollows me out and leaves me shiny on the outside and empty in the middle.

I want Christ to be in charge of my growth. A Christ that didn't say to the disciples, "Come and you will learn how to be fishers of men." A Christ who said, "Come and I will make you fishers of men."

If you and I believed for a second that the same power that raised Christ from the dead was in us, can you fathom how different that day would be?

I wish I could wrap this post up with three neat little steps on how to fix the situation and live a spirit-based life. But to do so puts me right back into effort mode.

Today, my prayer for me, and maybe for you if you've been living a 2D faith too, is that we won't get comfortable in the natural. That we'll learn to rest and return to a God who is, always has been, and always will be supernatural.

SCLQ – 4 minutes of sheer bliss.

What happens when you give me a women's sweater with bedazzled snowmen, a roaring fire place and two Christians having a hard time finding the perfect present?

This video is what happens. (And if you find it even a smidge inspiring, I strongly encourage you to pick up a few copies of the Stuff Christians Like 2012 Daily Calendar.)

The 5 types of Christmas Cards

If you listen closely, you can hear people's lives being changed at mailboxes across the country.

Why?

Because we just mailed them the Acuff family Christmas card.

Is "life change" an exaggeration of what's possible upon reading our Christmas card? It is. An under exaggeration. It's more like "family change" or "town change" or fine, I'll say it, "world changing."

We don't send Christmas cards out, we start revolutions. It's not a Christmas card; it's more of a movement. People have been known to start kickstarter campaigns just to raise money to build mantles so that they have a fitting place to put our cards.

How did they get so awesome? How did our cards become so frame-demanding? Why is Thomas Nelson thinking about publishing a book called, Acuff Family Christmas Cards Through The Years? I'm glad you asked, and I'm finally ready to share some of our Christmas card secrets.

The truth is that creating a fantastical, Narwhale level of awesome Christmas card is pretty easy. You just have to pick from the five versions of Christmas cards. Here they are:

5 Versions of Christmas Cards

1.The Emo.

This Christmas Card feels like a tiny devotional message from the people who brought you the King James Version of the Bible. As you read it at your mailbox, you feel like it might actually count as your "quiet time" with God that day. It's serious, it's sad, it never cracks a smile and it might even quote an obscure Bible verse. This is the Adam Duritz, Counting Crows "Round Here" Christmas card. We've sent this one out before. 2005 was a tough year for the Acuff family, and apparently I felt like the Christmas card needed to reflect that. Here is an excerpt of the card that I wrote that year:

"Return to your fortress, O prisoners of hope; even now I announce that I will restore twice as much to you." Zechariah 9:12

I'm struck by how incorrect it feels to have the words "prisoner" and "hope" in the same phrase (or in a Christmas card for that matter). They seem at odds with each other, opposites I'd never expect to travel together. But isn't that just like God? The unexpected, the impossibly hopeful, the giver of new daughters and new jobs and new reasons not to be sarcastic in a Christmas card. Next Christmas maybe we'll send you something witty. This year it didn't seem to fit."

Could that card be more depressing? My wife hated that Christmas card. I kind of even Jesus Juked people with that last line. Unbelievable.

2.The Riddler.

This is the simplest card to create. All you do is take a photo of your baby or your dog. Make sure you don't put your face or your spouse's face on the card. Then mail out the photo with a message like, "Merry Christmas from Mike, Sarah & Jane." Then enjoy knowing that 59% of the people who receive that card aren't going to have any clue who you are. We get at least 4 of these cards each Christmas. If we haven't seen you in a few years, and I've never seen your baby, and you don't put your last name on the card, you're going in the Riddler pile. Then my wife and I will argue about which one of us has been a horrible friend that year. "That is definitely not my friend. That card is for you. I have no idea who that baby belongs to."

3.The Encyclopedia

Start writing this card on January 1 and don't stop writing it until you mail it out in December. Create a 1,000 page newsletter about your family that covers everything from the car you bought that year to the ingrown toe nail you had removed in September because you ran a half marathon and it got infected but fortunately Dr. Zimmer lives down the street from you and has a practice over on Green Street and your healthcare covered it but you had to wear a special sock called the "Toe Bro" that wasn't covered by your plan and you had to dip into your "sock fund" to buy it. Your goal with this card is to give the mailman a hernia as he delivers it. The recipients of your card should be forced to cancel attending Christmas parties because they are so busy reading your encyclopedic amount of information.

4.The Relevant.

Go topical. And I don't mean ointment. Find some sort of big pop culture story and craft your entire Christmas card around that. This year? I'd probably drop in a reference to Charlie Sheen and maybe do a card called "The year of winning!" No scratch that, double the relevance and title the card, "The year of #winning!" Hashtag in a paper card, Jon? That's crazy! No it's not my friend. That's relevant. I'm not joking either. Here's an excerpt from the actual card we sent out in 2009:

The Acuff family is so 3008 we decided to write this year's Christmas card in Twitter length sentences. So we've got less than 140 characters to communicate our entire year, starting right now:

McRae turned four, fell in love/hate with the teacup ride at Disney, got two "Bitty Twins" and promptly named them "L.E. and McRae."

L.E. started kindergarten, learned to ride a bike and described Thunder Mountain at Disney as fun, "but also terrifying."

Jenny dropped L.E. off, went to Walmart, dropped McRae off, picked McRae up, went to Hobby Lobby and picked L.E. back up: mileage per day 64

Jon finished his book, Stuff Christians Like, which comes out in April. You should pre-order that, if you love our family even a little.

Wow! That thing is wrapped tight with relevance like a scallop wearing a bacon parka. Let's count the relevant points: Reference to a Fergie lyric, written in tweet length, reference to Disney teacup ride, reference to American Girl Doll Bitty Twins, reference to Disney Thunder Mountain ride, reference to Walmart, reference to Hobby Lobby, and a pitch to pre-order Stuff Christians Like. Boom! That might be the most culturally relevant Christmas card ever written.

5.The Jokester.

This is the opposite of the Emo and usually the one we go with as a family. The name kind of explains it all. You tell jokes. One year we wrote our entire card in the form of knock knock jokes because our oldest daughter L.E. loved telling them. One year it was a humorous multiple choice quiz. This year? The card is written to the tune of Taylor Swift's song, "Mean." Our daughters saw her in concert this year and love that song. Here's an excerpt:

"You, with our Christmas card, that you just got from us, standing at your mailbox,

You, are wondering what we did this year, and hope it wasn't boring."

And so on.

Hopefully, you've learned a lot today and will be able to pick one of those five popular styles for your card. If not, might I suggest an email Christmas card this year? The nice thing is that you can wait until the last second, pretend you didn't wait until the last second, and then say that you didn't forget to send a card this year. You "were trying to respect the environment and save paper." In one fell stroke you get out of addressing a billion cards, save money on postage, and get to juke everyone who did send out real cards and apparently hates trees. Win to the win to the win.

Question:

Did you send out a Christmas card this year?

 

SCLQ – Booty, God, Booty the Video: Part 2 – The Mustard Sundae

Here's week 2 of the new video series I did with LifeChurch.tv. Today's video is titled, "The Mustard Sundae." (Here's the link to part 1 if you missed it.)

Check it out!

The 4 types of clappers.

(It's guest post Friday! Here's one from Jeff Jones, the drummer for Big Daddy Weave. Their song "Just the Way I Am" is one of my favorite songs. You can follow Jeff on Twitter @jeffdrummer. If you want to write a guest post for SCL, here's how!) 

The 4 types of clappers. By Jeff Jones

Having played drums in over 1,500 concerts with my band Big Daddy Weave, you can imagine I have observed things from stage that render me speechless from time to time. I've seen full-out sprints run around the sanctuary, dance moves that defy description, and heard fish-shaped streamer clad tambourines played with technique to make a Juilliard-trained symphony percussionist green with envy.

However, nothing quite captures my attention from behind the drum set like the different methods of hand clapping displayed in the audience. I have narrowed the different methods down to 4 distinct categories. Make no mistake: There may be different versions within each category, but I have found these 4 to represent the majority.

1. The "I don't want to be here" clap

You may "want" to be there, but this method suggests otherwise. This method may also be referred to as the "I'm only clapping because I don't want to look foolish" clap. This clap is usually displayed with no more than a 5 inch lift. Elbows bent while the hands are held close to the body. Absolutely no other body movement is displayed. This is often the chosen method for those who were brought by a friend. I call this "the safe method."

2. The "I have spent a lot of time clubbing in the past" clap

This method is not to be confused with the clapping often displayed by charismatic churches. There is a big difference. The hands are easily a foot and a half apart before brought together again. The "clubbing" clap is accompanied by a "side to side" dance step. This subtle dance allows the clapper to express their love for dancing (expressed in the past while clubbing), while still remaining calm enough for other audience members to not suspect their past involvement. When utilized by the male audience members, this usually is accompanied with the white man overbite. For the record, this is the loudest of all claps. In extreme cases, I have seen shoes removed.

3. The "Rapid pull away" clap

This clap is borrowed from the more soulful congregations. The clapper usually keeps one hand still at a 45 degree angle at chest level. The other hand makes contact for a split second only to return quickly to the fully extended position in the air. This is the most difficult of all clapping methods and requires a lot of rhythm to accomplish.

4. The "Biscuit Praise" clap

This clap is borrowed from the Pentecostal movement and is combined with the methods observed while watching Bill Gaither DVDs. This clap is the easiest to identify. The clapper holds the same position as the "I don't want to be here" clapper, but the movement of the hands is where it differs. While holding the elbows in the traditional L-shape in front of the body, the top hand is switched back and forth between every clap. Imagine making homemade biscuits and shaping the dough with your hands alternating the top hand. This can also be combined with the "rapid pull away" to create a hybrid clap. Many would suggest this method is dying, but I have recently seen resurgence among the contemporary churches we visit. It is alive and well!

I usually fall between the "I don't want to be here clap" and the "I have spent a lot of time clubbing in the past" clap. Depending on where I am, I spend more time on one above the other.

How do you clap?

Did I leave any styles off the list?

 

(Having played drums for Contemporary Christian Band Big Daddy Weave for 12 years, Jeff is also an author/speaker, blogger and small business owner. For more info on Jeff or to see what life is like on the road with Big Daddy Weave, you can visit www.Jeffdrummer.com and www.Customstix.com. You can follow him on Twitter at @Jeffdrummer)

Leg dropping elves (Or the real meaning of Christmas.) A Christmas Classic SCL

(It's Christmas time, which means it's the perfect time to share some "Christmas Classics," from the archives of Stuff Christians Like. Here's one from the Stuff Christians Like book. Enjoy!)

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

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

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

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

Elf on the Shelf: "I'm the Elf on the Shelf."

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

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

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

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

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

Wise Man 3: "Myrrh man, Christmas is not about the gifts we give. It's first and foremost about the gift we received. Jesus Christ."

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

Elf on the Shelf: "I'm Elf on the Shelf."

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

Shepherd 1: "What's going on?"

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

Shepherd 2: "Oh, that's not happening on my watch. It's on like Donkey Kong."

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

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

Elf on the Shelf: "Gulp."

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

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

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

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

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

Wise Man 1: "Good grief!"

Elf on the Shelf: "That's from Charlie Brown's Christmas!"

Shepherd 1: "You're still here? Let's do this thing."

(Commence elf beat down.)

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