Jon Acuff's Blog, page 125

SCLQ – I found the fourth horseman of the Apocalypse.

Technically, I'm not certain that the book of Revelation specifically mentions the Detroit Lions football team, but it might.

There's a lot of descriptive language in that book. In fact, Revelation 13:2 says,

"The beast I saw resembled a leopard, but had feet like those of a bear and a mouth like that of a lion. The dragon gave the beast his power and his throne and great authority."

Is it possible that in the Hebrew translation, "mouth like that of a lion," actually means "the Detroit Lions will be 3-0 to start the 2011 football season?" Because that's how I'm interpreting it.

When I saw that the Buffalo Bills beat the team I grew up near, the Patriots, I instantly threw the "fourth horseman of the Apocalypse Card. You don't carry an F-HAC? You're weird.

But just when I felt good about throwing it out, I saw that for the first time since 1980, the Detroit Lions are 3-0 too. I had to grab my F-HAC card right back off the table and throw it again. (And I am constantly throwing it.)

Am I saying the Detroit Lions are evil or somehow related to the Antichrist. Of course not! I hate when people dramatically exaggerate. What I'm saying is that if they win their next game, the crust of the earth will probably be torn asunder and the sky ripped in half. That's all. (And after last night's Red Sox collapse, in which three different games ended the worst possible way they could have, I'm almost ready to add a fifth horseman to the Apocalypse.)

Question:

Have you ever seen something happen and thrown a "Fourth Horseman of the Apocalypse Card?"

Found.

A few years ago, I planned to have a party at my house with readers of my first blog. I was going to read a few things, my friend Scott was going to play some music, and my friend Ben was going to do some delightful things with food.

Then it snowed in Georgia and I had to cancel the event.

I wrote a post on my blog announcing the party was off. I thought I would be clever so I mentioned that Barry Manilow had canceled too. If I am being honest, I thought at least a few people would post messages saying how disappointed they were the party was canceled.

I know that's probably shallow, but I can't just write about the good bits on my blog and make myself seem more put together than I am. So the truth is that I thought my post about the party being canceled would generate a bunch of emails/comments in the first 24 hours. And I would feel important or missed or something.

I got 1 email in the first 24 hours.

Here is what it said:

Actually Barry didn't cancel the show last night; the management at Phillips arena did, and it hasn't been canceled, just postponed. Barry's management is already working on another date for the show to go on.

Instead of readers telling me they missed me, one "Fanilow" told me how incorrect my Manilow information was.

I was frustrated at first, but the reality is that the Fanilow helped me see a universal truth that I had forgotten about since I was in college:

We all want to be found.

I don't care if you're Christian, Muslim, Jewish, Mormon, Atheist or Agnostic. I think deep down inside, we all want to be found. We all want someone to come looking for us. We want people to be glad when they are with us. As Radiohead once said, "I want you to notice when I'm not around."

That's how I was in college. I was really insecure and was dating a girl that didn't seem that concerned if I was around. So when we went to parties, I would get a little drunk and then hide. By "hide," I really wish I meant "go outside and sit on a curb forlornly like a singer/songwriter waiting for inspiration."

Alas, that is not what I meant. I used to go hide in closets. I would stand there in the dark of the closet, awkwardly shoved amidst coasts and shoes waiting for her to look for me. Wanting, more than anything those stupid nights, for her to notice I was missing. For her to come find me. For me to be found.

I wonder if that is how the Prodigal Son felt when he ran away from the father. I wonder if when he was in the pigpen, when he had come to the end of himself, if that is what he wanted more than anything. To be found by the father. To be missed. To be looked for.

That story is woefully incomplete in some ways. We don't get a picture of what happened the day after the welcome home party. We don't know anything about a mother or additional family members or specifics like how long the son was gone.

But what Luke 15 does reveal is pretty powerful. We are given two images, two distinct pictures of two people at odds with the idea of being lost and found.

In one image, we see the father. Here is what we are told: "But while he (the son) was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him."

The father was watching the road. He wasn't going about his day casually glancing at the road thinking he might see the son but he had some business to attend to first. You get the sense that life had ceased on the farm as far as the father was concerned. And he wasn't alone. He was with servants that eventually ran with him. I like to imagine that the moment the father was told the son was missing he called together his most trusted servants and together they started watching the road. All day, all night, all week, all month, all year.

And then we have the son, stuck in a pigpen, desperately planning his return. And when he was ready, all it says of his journey was "So he got up and went to his father."

The journey is not what matters in this story. We are not told how long he walks or how far he went or any other detail of the trip. And it's not that the Bible is not detailed. Read the description of the temple in the Old Testament. It's exquisite and microscopically detailed.

But here we only get nine words and I think there are only three that really matter. I think we're supposed to look at "got up" and "went." That was all he had to do. He stood to his feet, and he went. It wasn't complicated. It wasn't long. It wasn't full of do's and don'ts.

I don't know where you are right now. Maybe you're found, maybe you're lost, but regardless, please know that there is a father watching your road. His beard is growing long, his stomach is going empty as he waits by the road for you. He won't leave. He can't leave as long as you're still out there. You need only get up and go and wait for the sound of feet in the distance.

Wishing AWANA would add an S to their name already.

Dear AWANA,

My kids absolutely loved going to AWANA last year. (AWANA is kind of like a once a week Sunday School class. They learn verses, earn badges, play games, etc.) They learned so much about the Bible. I loved it too. We even stole from a church so that we could attend AWANA. The work you guys do is amazing, and I hope to get our kids involved in AWANA now that we live in Nashville.

My only request is that you would please add an S to your name already. I think it's time. For years people have had this conversation:

Mom 1:

"I heard about that new AWANAS program our church is going to do. Sounds great."

Mom 2:

"There's no S."

Mom 1:

"What?"

Mom 2:

"At the end of AWANA, there's no S. It's just AWANA."

Mom 1:

"Oh, what if there's more than one AWANA. Is it 'Awani' then or like oxen and it's a group of 'AWANAN?'

Mom 2:

"Nope. The plural and singular of AWANA is the same. No S. There is never an S. And I'm pretty sure you're doing Brian Regan material right now."

Mom 1:

"I hate you and I'm renouncing my faith and no longer coming to church."

There's a chance I exaggerated that conversation a little for dramatic blog purposes, but I think you get the point. It's time to add an S to AWANA.

Pretend it stands for "Social" as in "Social Media" and this is about being relevant. Or pretends it stands for "Stuff" and you guys are down with Stuff Christians Like. Or even pretend it stands for Sufjan and you're indie now. It's really up to you.

But let's make this S happen.

Sincerely,

Jon

Hoping nobody creates a Christian version of Instagram.

Dear Christian Culture,

It's me, Jon. Not Margaret.

What's been going on? Did you have a good summer? I did. Ate a lot of popsicles, went to the beach with my family, got Mario Kart for the Wii. Have you ever played that? It's awesome. There's this little wheel you steer with and all the characters are there and you should never pick a motorcycle for Wario's Mine. Trust me on that one. Horrible decision.

So last week I started to think about you. Why? Well Instagram, the most popular photo app in the world, came out with a huge update. It's ridiculous. It's free and it helps you make any photo look artsy. Look at this photo I took with Instagram. It looks like some sort of Warhol meets Willy Wonka modern art piece. It's just my watch on my couch. I call it "watch on couch." 

I love Instagram and hope that you'll follow me to check out all my photos. I'm jonacuff on it. But I do want to have a heart-to-heart with you real quick.

This is serious. I hope you can hear that I am writing this right now with my whisper of importance. Imagine the voice a worship leader uses when he asks you to quietly reflect after you've sung the last song at church, not the "get up and sing" voice he uses before the first song. Look deep into my eyes and hear this in Christian Love:

Please do not create a Christian version of Instagram.

We don't need it. Honestly, we don't. And it's going to be tempting to create one. As a guy whose entire site is a Christian version of another site, I know that temptation all too well. But in this case, put the app development down. Walk away.

Why don't we need a Christian version of Instagram?

Because it's just a vehicle. Like the rented Corolla I drove last week. It just a vehicle for photos. It's not inherently Christian or non-Christian. Just like I could change the radio station if I disagreed with a song in the rented Corolla, people can choose what content they see on Instagram.

If you see something you don't like, stop following that person and you'll instantly never see their photos again. Done and done. (Unless right now you're thinking, "We need to create a Christian version of the rented Corolla.")

This is going to be a hard one to leave behind, isn't it? (Left Behind reference intended.) I can only imagine the names we could have brainstormed. "InstaGod," "HeavenGram," "InstaGrace," or maybe "FaithGram."

Me personally, I would have named it "BillyGram," but let's both commit to not developing that app. I'm tempted too, but this really needs to travel from your head to your heart.

Together, I know we can do this.

Side hugs & Jesus Jukes

Jon

Why do I hate New Zealand so much?

Sometimes people ask me why I hate New Zealand and Canada when I say I'll be speaking at an event in Nashville.

As a fan of the Lord of the Rings movies, clearly I do not hate New Zealand. But that's not really what they mean. What they're saying is, "How come you always speak somewhere a bajillion miles away from where I live?"

Although for the last three years I've tried to jump around the country speaking in different places (Kriss Kross style), I haven't been everywhere. But for the first time, a conference I spoke at is allowing me to speak everywhere all at once.

Lifeway is broadcasting the NOW Conference. The conference was all about challenging us to live meaningfully within the context of where God has placed us. It's a diverse array of artists, thinkers, and business leaders, sharing the stage through short, focused presentations.

The broadcast is on September 27 at 7 p.m. central. It's 2 hours long and features me, Ben Arment, Pete Wilson, Jen Hatmaker and a bunch of other great folks.

It's $10 and is a super cheap way to get access to a lot of great content.

Click here to sign up.

And here's the trailer for the event! I make a cameo at the end and appear cooler than I really am because black and white makes everything look cooler.

The Self-Deprecating Faux Pas

(It's guest post Friday! Still can't believe John Ortberg wrote a guest post for Stuff Christians Like. If you're not familiar with his many, many awesome books, start with his latest, "The Me I Want to Be." He's a brilliant author, great pastor and a fantastic blogger. You can also find him on Twitter. If you want to write a guest post for SCL, here's how!)

The Self-Deprecating Faux Pas – By John Ortberg

A staple for people who speak regularly on the evangelical circuit is the self-deprecating faux pas (SDFP) designed to show the speaker is normal like everyone else. It has to be vulnerable enough to be embarrassing, but not so vulnerable as to get you kicked out of ministry employment.

The key is being able to derive spiritual object lessons from such a story, to justify telling it as a ministry experience (much like justifying an expense as a tax write-off for the IRS). With a little practice, you too can excel at this.

I will give you a (true) example from a good friend who shall remain nameless, but who teaches at highly-regarded Christian institution.

He and his wife have a cat that regularly captures small creatures and brings them under their bed to put them in a shoe or hat or purse to paw at. On a recent occasion my friend hauled himself out of bed and 'muttering curses at the cat' (an important Christian phrase, we'll come back to that) spent a half hour trying unsuccessfully to find whatever the cat dragged in.

The next morning he got dressed, put on his shoes that were under the bed and checked once more while down there for the creature—nothing. He spent a normal day doing normal Christian teacher things.

At night, when he took of his right shoe, he thought to himself: 'that smells much worse than usual.' Careful examination revealed an odd smear at the heel near the "PowerStep" insole. When he pulled out the insole and grabbed at the smear, he peeled an entire mouse from the bowels of his shoe, completely intact except that, over the course of 15 hours, it had been squashed flat as a credit card.

On the bright side, he said his other shoes do not smell that bad by comparison.

How do you turn this into a useable SDFP? A few critical guidelines:

1. Any story involving death, rot, rodents, or nausea-induction should be immediately tied to sin. Just remember the connecting phrase "in a similar way…" ("In a similar way, we can end up carting around our ego/greed/lust/pride/failure-to-journal/tolerance-for-quasi-universalism/etc. without ever noticing an offense that reeks to the world around us")

2. Note the use of 'muttering curses' at the cat. This is a great example of the 'embarrassing but not too revealing' standard. By using the word 'curses' you let people know that you are human, but by not specifying which curse in particular you remain above reproach. Knowing how much vulnerability is 'too much' requires discretion. For instance, even if you are a pastor you can reveal which curse words you used if you are Tony Campolo or if you work at a large edgy latte church in the Seattle area. But you can't refer to a specific curse word if you bill yourself as a Christian comedian. It is an oddity of our times that Christian pastors can now use swear words that Christian comedians can't. Theologically, this is known as the mysterium tremendum.

3. If you are speaking to an older audience, you can tie this story to a commonly-shared piece of folk-wisdom that sounds vaguely Proverbial: 'Never criticize someone until you have walked a mile in their shoes. Unless they have a mouse in their shoes; then it's every man for himself.'

4. You may need to tailor this to your particular audience. If you are speaking to a Christian environmental group, you will want to say that you prayed a prayer of forgiveness for what you did to the mouse. If you are speaking to a Pentecostal group, it may add humor to say that you prayed in tongues when you found the mouse. If you are speaking to a Pentecostal environmental group, you may want to say you prayed in tongues for the mouse to be brought back to life. For bonus points, produce the resurrected rodent.

5. Always be prepared to give appropriate attribution. I think this story was actually used by Charles Spurgeon in a sermon in the 1880's.

6. A good death tie-in is never fails to touch the heart. You might hold up the Visa-Mouse-Carcass by the tail and say, "You know, you may not reach the end of your life by getting walked on for fifteen hours straight, but one day you too will die. Are you ready for that day? What does eternity hold for you on 'the other side of the shoe?'"

7. Look for tie-ins to some of your other 'ministry resources'. (You can find more examples of this in my book: The Me I Want to Be, featuring the Monvee spiritual formation tool.)

8. Above all, make sure you have an unforgettable ending for your story. I wish I had one right now.

(For more awesomeness from John Ortberg, check out his site, JohnOrtberg.com and Monvee.com)

SCLQ – Caption this eagle.

Remember when I wrote about "worship eagles?" Remember when I said that if churches would finally put a falconmaster on their staff they'd never have a problem with screaming kids in church services.  I believe my exact sentence was that other parents might have to be polite and pretend that they don't hear that screaming kid in church, but "the eagle hears. The eagle hears all. With the softest approach in the game, the eagle would lightly pick up the child, carry him away and drop him in a ball pit outside with all the other crying kids."

You all laughed. Well some of you probably didn't laugh. If an eagle killed your uncle, you definitely didn't find that post funny. But, thanks to Rick S., nobody is laughing now. Here's a photo of what I believe is a worship eagle patrolling the sanctuary. (I'm choosing to believe that green in his mouth is not an olive leaf in a dove's mouth, but the scrap of a kelly green old school Southern Baptist suit he snatched from an ornery elder who got out of line.)

Let's caption this photo!

What's your best caption?

 

SCLQ – Johnnie Moore

One of the things I love about SCLQ is that it gives me a chance to introduce you to some of my friends who are out there doing great work. Like Angie Smith, Al Andrews and today, Johnnie Moore.

Johnnie Moore is a friend of mine who works at Liberty University. He's one of those people that is 29 years old but has the wisdom of like a 400 year old. But he's not a zombie. I probably should have said "wisdom of an 80 year old" but I didn't feel like that properly captured my respect for Johnnie. And then, once you've said, "like a 400 year old," you're almost obligated to say, "but he's not a zombie," because people assume. They assume.

So if you're looking for a great book, but a great guy who happens to also not be a zombie, check out Johnnie Moore's new book, Honestly: Really Living What We Say We Believe.

The fake thing we sometimes pray for.

Despite Guideposts Magazine's continued refusal to add me to their "Most Beautiful Christian Bloggers" issue I do go to the gym. (That list is so political these days and is really about who you know.)

Not only do I go to the gym, I actually have a trainer. Why?

1. It's a great chance for me and my friend Chris to hang out.

2. I get fat otherwise. Especially now that I'm traveling some, and most of my meals at the airport start with a "B" and end with a "urrito."

Our trainer's name is Adam, and sometimes I hate him. But that's a good thing. If you don't hate your trainer or workout partner sometimes, then they're not helping you really get in shape. But, recently, I noticed I was pulling a trick on Adam pretty regularly.

When we're in the middle of the workout, and I feel like I could maybe throw up or pass out or just pass out in my own throw up, I do something sneaky. I ask him to clarify the directions.

I'll pause for a second and say, "Wait a minute, can you explain this exercise again? Where are my legs supposed to go? And are my arms at this angle or this angle?" I ask a battery of questions, hoping against hope that he won't realize we've done that exercise a hundred times before, and I'm just stalling because I don't want to do it again.

I fake a need for clarity so that I don't have to do something I don't want to do.

Which is a crazy thing to do, but what's even crazier is that I do it with God.

Have you ever done that?

Has there ever been something that you know you're supposed to do. God's put something on your heart and your mind. It's clear you're called to do it, but it's hard. Or uncomfortable or awkward. And instead of doing it, you say to yourself, "I better pray about this some more. God, I'm going to need a little more clarity on this one."

And it doesn't have to be something epic like you moving to Africa to become a missionary. It can be as simple as you admitting that the verse "love your neighbor" applies to how you treat your coworkers.

"Dear God, I'm not completely sure what you're saying in that verse. I'd start being kind to Mark, the guy who heats up seafood in the office break room, today if I could just get a little more detail from you on what you're actually asking me. Little bit of clarity would help. Thanks."

Maybe you've never done that. Maybe you don't use prayer as a hiding place sometimes. Maybe you don't ask for more clarity when the call is perfectly clear. Maybe you don't seek 47 sources of wise counsel as a way to prevent yourself from doing something you know you're supposed to do.

But if you're like me, chances are, there's something you've been holding back on. Some call, some action, some step you've got to take. And today is the time to stop asking for clarity and instead start asking for courage. The courage to get started.

Question:

Have you ever resisted doing something you felt called to do?

SCLQ – Christians are weird about counseling.

Christians are weird about counseling. Here's a 2 minute video of me explaining why.

 

Question:

Have you ever been to counseling?