Jon Acuff's Blog, page 151

The Justin Bieber Bible Study.

You guys never tell me anything. Though I like to think I am a cool Christian blogger, a purveyor of praise, a curator of culture if you will, I am always at least a few days behind the rest of the planet.

That's how I felt anyway when I learned there was a Justin Bieber Bible Study.

This is not blog hyperbole or exaggeration. In support of his new movie, Never Say Never, Paramount Pictures created a study guide called, "Never Say Never: For Nothing Is Impossible With God." They invited influential Christian leaders to screen the movie and endorse it. That's what a recent Entertainment Weekly article reported. And when I read it, here is the thought process that went through my head.

"Didn't I write a piece about Justin Bieber's faith last November? Did I scoop Entertainment Weekly by three months?"

Pause.

"Why am I so cocky?"

Pause.

"Have I been looking at Bieber as just another boy band, when actually he's a 'young evangelical?' That's a weird phrase, nobody uses that in real life. No one would ever introduce themselves and say, 'Hi, I'm Jon, I'm a young evangelical from Nashville.'"

Pause.

"How come I wasn't invited to one of premiere events? I want to be an influential leader."

Pause.

"Why am I so cocky?"

Pause.

"Everybody has a study guide! I should do a Stuff Christians Like study guide called, 'Side Hugs, Jesus Jukes and the Stuff Christians Like.' It would be scratch and sniff and smell like old hymnals. And it would have stickers with it and a little pencil sharpener that was in the shape of a crock pot. Probably could package the whole thing in a Trapper Keeper."

Pause.

"How come you brainstorm like a fourth grade girl?"

Pause.

"Whoa whoa, nobody puts the Trapper Keeper in a corner."

At that point, the train has jumped the tracks and crashed into a Dirty Dancing reference, Justin Bieber and a love of all things crock to the pot.

But be honest, did you know there was a Justin Bieber Bible study? Have you been keeping that from me?

1 way to keep creativity a family value.

Kids often stop believing they're artists the older they get. At the Acuff house we found one simple way to keep creativity one of the core values of our family. I wrote about it recently on the E-Mealz blog. Check out the post if you get a chance, "Better dinners through bigger stories."

Awkward "You're single?" conversations at church.

"When people at church find out I'm single, I feel like they look in the direction of my uterus and shake their heads in shame."

That's how my friend Wendy Maybury, a talented comedian/photographer, once described to me how being single at church felt.

Though she's probably exaggerating a smidge, in the past when we've talked about being single at church, the stories you've shared have been crazy. People say the most random, awkward things when they find out you're single at church.

Although we've chronicled these with a 40-point scorecard, we've never talked about the best way to respond when someone at church says, "You're single?" Maybe, if you responded to that question in a different way, married people wouldn't say things to you like, "Well at least you've got Jesus as your husband right now."

So here, in honor of Valentine's Day and all my single friends, here are

4 ways to respond when people at church ask, "You're single?"

1. "Yes, but I can't babysit for you on Valentine's Day."

We married people will trick you into this. If we talk to you the week before Valentine's Day out of the blue and say, "You're single?," please expect a babysitting question. And feel free to shot block it.

2. "Yes, but I don't feel led to volunteer for 97 ministries."

As a married dad, I forget that when I was single, I was pretty busy then too. Since I forget that, there's a chance I'm going to wrongfully believe that being single means you have time to volunteer for every ministry or service opportunity the church offers.

3. "Yes, but if you're going to yell 'She's single' to someone else you know who is single right now in the lobby of the church, give me at least a running head start."

I admit, that one's long, but it might be useful. Often your married friends want to set you up on a date. And not eventually, right this second. If the person asks if "You're single?" and then immediately starts scanning the crowd to find someone else who is too, moonwalk out of there.

4. "Yes, but I don't feel like you and I should discuss my willingness to receive Paul's 'Gift of loneliness.'"

You might need to drop a smokebomb to escape after you say this one, but even though it's difficult to get high grade smokebombs these days, it's worth it. Discussing Paul's celibacy with a married friend in the lobby of church is one of the weirdest conversations ever.

Hopefully, you will never, ever need to use one of those four ways to get out of an awkward "You're single?" situation. But chances are, if you're single at church, you already had something like this happen. (Minus the smokebomb of course.)

Have you ever had a weird "you're single?" experience at church?

My second book is now on Amazon!

I'm excited to announce that my second book, "Gazelles, Baby Steps and 37 Other Things Dave Ramsey Taught Me about Debt," is now available on Amazon. 

Click here to pick up a copy today.

If you read it, I'd greatly appreciate a quick Amazon book review.

Thanks for all your support!

P.S. I'm working my way through the blog reviews right now and it's been a blast talking to a bunch of folks.

What's your worst date ever?

Valentine's Day is right around the corner!

Which usually means if you're single you have to quit reading blogs for a few days while we married bloggers create "Lifetime Channel posts" detailing in excruciating detail the awesomeness of our lavender-scented love.

Long sentence. No fun if you're single.

This year, I decided to switch it up a little. Today, the short Saturday question is simple:

"What's the worst date you've been on?"

That's it. In the comments, share the worst date you ever went on. And I'll go first with a story I call "Coat Closet Catastrophe."

When I was in the 11th grade, I dated a girl from another school. She had to be from another school because I went to St. John's, an all boys school in Shrewsbury, Massachusetts. We had a semiformal for her school at a Polish American Club one night. In the middle of the dance, she asked if I minded if she danced once with her ex-boyfriend.

Not recognizing the craziness of that request or perhaps because I am a horrible people pleaser, I said, "No problem!" One dance led to two dances led to three dances, led to me sitting at a round table by myself in a tiny Polish American Club while everyone slow danced next to me on the dance floor.

After thirty minutes of her not talking to me/looking at me/dancing with me, I started to pick up on the signals. (I was very perceptive in the 11th grade.) I went into the bathroom, probably to write some mopey poetry, and two guys I had just met that night said, "We've got your back if you want to jump her ex-boyfriend." Although touched by this unexpected camaraderie, I passed on the idea and decided to just leave.

My girlfriend caught up with me in the coat closet, where I was without a doubt grabbing a coat that didn't really fit me which I had borrowed from my dad in order to look semiformal. We broke up in the coat closet while a small crowd of people gathered to watch. I drove my dad's 1987 Mazda 323 back to Hudson and went straight to my friend "Oates'" house where I'm pretty sure we drowned my 11th grade sorrows in Stouffer's French Bread Pizza.

Watching 160 other people dance to the smooth soul of Johnny Gill while I sat mere feet away at a table by myself was my worst date ever.

What's your worst date ever?

The first Sunday home from college at your "Home Church"

(If you're in college, this happened to you over the holidays. If you've long graduated, you'll still remember this phenomenon, especially the first item on this great guest post from Ryan Guinan. This seemed perfectly timed for Valentine's Day and all my friends who are single. Enjoy!)

I am a Senior in college and have one semester to go before I graduate. When being home for the first time after 3 or 4 months, familiar faces naturally want to catch up but I noticed a grueling common trend of questions they ask every first Sunday after being away.

They are 3 questions a college kid better have figured out or be on their toes to 'Barry Sanders' their way through the masses and find a seat before anyone can stop them:

1. Are you dating anyone?

If you answer 'yes', I imagine fireworks go off, confetti cannons fire and you get a ribbon that says "1st place" but when you answer 'no,' three things happen:

My friend's mom brings up my last High School girlfriend, a prom date, or "that one girl your mom was telling me about at school" (*There is no telling who this phantom person is?) and proceeds to ask, "what happened with 'that'?" Then I awkwardly explain why those relationships didn't wind up with me being on one knee, pledging my life to that female. A generic cliche like, "Life was just taking us in different directions" usually gets the job done.

My friend's dad hears I am single, which causes him to give me an abundance of "Dad's trying to be cool" fist pounds and references to me being a single man and "free." Once the high fives stop, he gives me a ten-step action plan on how to meet women based on what he did to meet his wife.

But the worst, no question, is the little old ladies at church. Being 22 and single is something they absolutely cannot fathom. They often explain how they had been married for 5 years at this point in their life and had two kids and one on the way. Nothing you say to justify your state in life appeases their grief that you are not married.

2. Have you graduated?

This is never too rough of a question, as most people have no recollection of how far along in school you are. This question get tricky though if your parents are standing right behind you when asked.

If they are, it is essential that you speak to the straining effort you are devoting to getting done and receiving your diploma. A comment like, "Yeah, I'm just trying to enjoy college, these are the years to live? Am I right!" will lead to a plethora of Bible verses being dumped on you about honoring your parents and how Jesus calls us to not be 'slothful."

3. What are you studying? Quickly followed by, ohhh what are you going to do with that?

No matter how many times you tell someone your major at your home church, they never remember. And they seemingly never understand what your major is. When you tell them your major and tell them you are not sure what you want to do with that right away even though graduation is 4 months away, they tell you about the 3 or 4 people they know who may or may not have graduated with your same major. If you're major is economics, they will tell you about someone they know who is a math teacher. Theater arts? They've got a nephew who just got a job at a software company that has something to do with art. Adobe or something. Given there are approximately 7 jobs available for graduating seniors, this conversation usually only serves to make you more nervous.

Regardless of the questions, at the end of the day it's nice to know you're missed.

What questions did people at your home church ask when you came home for a Sunday?

Using a fear of legalism as an excuse to be lazy.

I would do a daily quiet time. I would journal or set a goal to read the Bible in a year. I would do all of those things right this second, but I've got an issue. I have something that I fear like teen girls fear Bieber retiring at age 18 so he can pursue an undergraduate degree in Economics at the University of Illinois.

I don't want to become legalistic.

Whenever someone challenges me spiritually, that's my get out of jail free card, "I don't want to become all legalistic." Praying consistently and actually writing down what I'm praying for? Legalistic. Setting a time every day to do my quiet time? Legalistic. Staying accountable to a friend to read my Bible more? Legalistic.

I fear that if I put any kind of boundaries around my day, I'll go from 0 to full suit/all hymns/no social justice legalistic in about 4.2 seconds. And I hate pleated pants, which everyone knows legalistic people wear non stop. Their pajamas are probably pleated. Not me. I have a free form faith. A dynamic, alive faith. A flat front pants faith if you will.

Didn't you read yesterday's Serious Wednesday post? It was heavy and really a testament to what happens if you get too legalistic. Reading the Bible regularly on a schedule is only one degree removed from thinking you have to earn Christ's love everyday.

Is that a giant leap? Do I make plans for other areas of my life, like attending work at the same time every weekday without getting legalistic? Does my complete interpretation of all things deliberate as slippery slopes toward legalism seem a bit extreme? Does my carefree faith seem in opposition to Ephesians 5:15-16 which says, "Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil?"

Wait a second, you're asking an awful lot of questions. Let me see your pants.

That's what I thought.

Pleats.

You're so legalistic.

The problem with the pigpen.

January was a good month.

I've been doing regular quiet times.

I've been meeting for breakfast with a good friend I trust.

I finished the first two versions of my next book.

I took my kids on dates and made more time for my wife.

I lost 10 pounds and have been eating healthier.

I was mentally reviewing that list in my head the other night walking out of the office when I bumped into a tragic lie I was unaware I still believed.

As I left work, I thought to myself, "God must be really happy. He must really love me right now." In the space of a single stride, I felt like God leveled a long held belief and asked me simply, "Did I love the prodigal son more when he was in the pigpen or in my arms?"

Ugh. Sometimes I feel like those old commercials where they say, "I'm not a doctor but I play one TV." Only I would say, "I'm not a Christian, I just play one on a blog."

Why? Because my thought that God loves me when I have a "good month" is so opposite of what grace is. In my version of the prodigal son story, I am covered with mud. From a long way off I can see the father's angry face. He is enraged. He is disgusted with me. His scowl seems to radiate from miles as I walk. As I walk, I shout out promises to him:

"I'll do better this time!"

"I'll stop being so cocky!"

"I won't mess up again!"

"I'll stop gossiping!"

"I'll be more consistent with my quiet time!"

"I'm sorry!"

With each step, every shout, his face shifts a little. His anger seems to dissipate the closer I get and the louder I make my promises. I walk and shout, shout and walk until at last, I cross his property line and collapse on his farm. Not in his arms, but at least in his presence.

He gives me his love, in the form of a shiny token. I clutch it close and swear to never lose sight of it again. For weeks, I hold my breath, afraid to mess up. For weeks I white knuckle my way through life convinced that living on the farm is about being perfect, not forgiven. I hold it together. For a while at least, but then the pressure of performing crushes me. Being perfect gets so heavy. I can't do this. I can't.

So I lean on the fence and look back over the horizon to the pigpen. I just want to relax. I can't be perfect. This feels really hard. So late one night, when I think everyone is asleep, I use the token, the coin that is God's love to prop open the gate. I can just barely squeeze through the gap if I'm willing to leave the father's love propped in place.

And then I'm gone, running out into the night, the father's love, the coin, the thing I earned left far behind. I deserved it when I was perfect, I lost it when I was not. Weeks or months later, I'll realize the misery of the pigpen again and start to walk back home. And the cycle continues.

I'm tired of that kind of faith. I'm tired of believing in a God who gives "sometimes love." As in sometimes he loves me, sometimes he does not. And above all, I'm tired of believing in a God who does not love sinners. Especially since there are a billion verses in the Bible that say just the opposite. One of my favorite is Matthew 9:10-13.

"While Jesus was having dinner at Matthew's house, many tax collectors and sinners came and ate with him and his disciples. When the Pharisees saw this, they asked his disciples, "Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?"

On hearing this, Jesus said, "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. But go and learn what this means: 'I desire mercy, not sacrifice. For I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners."

Falling down, being broken and a sinner doesn't prevent me from his love, it makes me perfect for his love. It makes me exactly who Christ came for, not the righteous, but sinners. And it's not a gift he gives once, because I sacrificed and had a good January. It's a gift he gives continually, like mercy.

Why?

Because he loves us.

In his arms.

In the pigpen.

He loves us.

What makes a blog great?

In a few weeks, we'll be launching a new blog. This week I'm meeting with the wicked talented team at Dave Ramsey to discuss what features/technologies/stuff we should include on it. And since I want it to be a blog that serves you, I thought I'd just ask:

What would you love in a blog?

The content is going to be about pursuing your dreams, writing, social media and any other subject of life that doesn't fit within the confines of "Stuff Christians Like."

But what's something you love on other blogs that we should do? What's a technology or feature that's important to you? What's a blog you're reading right now you think is cool?

What is your favorite blog?

"Wait, what???" Bible verses.

Sometimes, if I am reading the Bible too quickly, I have a Wile E. Coyote moment. Often when chasing the Road Runner, Wile E. would get so focused on what he was doing that he would run 15 feet off a cliff without realizing it. Then he would pause in mid air, look at the camera, then at his feet and plummet.

I feel that way sometimes while reading the Bible. I'll get in a rhythm and start making progress. I'll be cruising through Genesis and Exodus, moving along at a good clip, flying by the material, until out of nowhere I'll pause, mid thought and say, "Wait, what???"

I'll go back a few verses and realize that I breezed past something outrageous that at first glance I took as commonplace. Recognizing my error I'll push pause, reread the verse and then fall off a theological cliff much like Wile E.

That's exactly what happened to me last Monday. I was reading Exodus 4 when God gives Moses his marching orders. Here is what verse 21 – 23 says:

The Lord said to Moses, "When you return to Egypt, see that you perform before Pharaoh all the wonders I have given you the power to do. But I will harden his heart so that he will not let the people go. Then say to Pharaoh, 'This is what the Lord says: Israel is my firstborn son, and I told you, "Let my son go, so he may worship me." But you refused to let him go; so I will kill your firstborn son.'"

God is giving Moses instructions. Dire, serious instructions, but thus far I am as pastors love to say, "tracking with him." I get what is happening, having discussed the Passover story and the plight of the Israelites a lot growing up. So, at Wile E. Coyote speed I continue to the next verse:

"At a lodging place on the way, the Lord met Moses and was about to kill him."

Wait, what??? In one verse, God is telling Mose what to do and in the next verse he's about to kill him. Not, "thinking about killing him," but "about to," as in "this is on like Donkey Kong."

I might be the only one who has had a "Wait, What???" Bible verse moment, but if you ever experience one, there are three things you should know:

1. Slow your flow.

It's not a race. If you catch yourself running over cliffs regularly, chances are you're speed reading the Bible. Slow down Vin Diesal. No need to get fast and/or furious through Exodus.

2. Version it out.

When I run off a cliff, I immediately check other versions of the Bible. NIV, ESV, KJV, ETC. My coworker recently told me he read that someone had "vanished right before their eyes." His version made it sound like Phillip had Scott Bakula'd right out of there. We checked multiple versions to figure out the text.

3. Enjoy the pause.

You can read the Bible 1 million times and pick up 1 millions different things. That's the beauty of the word of God. He's going to highlight and call out new things each time you crack it open. Don't think a "Wait, What????" verse is a bad thing. It might be exactly what you need to read.

Has this ever happened to you? Have you ever read the Bible and had a "Wait, What???" moment?

What verse gives you pause?