Jon Acuff's Blog, page 152

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?

Hosting the Super Bowl at your church.

The Super Bowl is one of those "events" where I assume everyone is at an amazing party except for me. The closer we get to the game the more I suspect that somewhere, people will be having the kind of party that really only exists in stock photography. You know the scene: Popcorn bowl in mid air, people jumping off the couch in excitement, guys high fiving or chest bumping, adorable golden retriever barking in excitement.

That's what I think when I watch it from my couch. Where are our banners or 37 layer dips and college buddies named "Sully" that I should be watching this thing with? Have you ever thought that before? Probably not. I am weird.

But something that's really started to gain steam in the last few years, in addition to stock photography level Super Bowl parties, is churches hosting it. Not the actual game, although that would be awesome. I'm talking about churches hosting Super Bowl viewing parties. Churches will invite people from their communities to watch the game at "God's house."

I think that's a fun idea, but as my friend Destiny Herndon asked me last week, what do the churches that have Super Bowl parties do when a trashy commercial comes on?

I'm not talking about in studio commercials the announcers have to do when they pretend they're excited about a new sitcom on whatever channel is showing the game. "He's tall, she's tall, together they make up one crazy marriage. Tune in for brand new episodes of "Never 2 tall for love."

I'm talking about the GoDaddy's of the world or the lingerie bowl commercials. What can churches do when those ads come on? Here are three ideas I think they can implement next year:

1. Pray

Racy commercial comes on? A Kardashian pitching those weird shoes? Pray. Everyone will have their eyes closed so they won't see the commercials. And you'll get about 435 prayers said in a period of 3 hours because there are so many commercials. Bam! That is a win-win solution right there.

2. Tivo the game

Hold on, hear me out. Don't Tivo the whole game, just about 15 minutes of delay. That way, when something crazy comes on, whoever is in control of the massive remote for the projector can fast forward right through it. (The rapid fire fast forward move is something I perfected while watching the unedited version of the movie "Love Actually," with my in-laws which is very different on DVD than on TV.) You'll have to create a cone of silence to make sure no one calls or texts the score while you watch the game and ruins the 15 minute gap of course.

3. Rainstick

Every time a questionable commercial comes on, have the lady in your church who went on a mission trip and bought a rainstick start playing it. In addition to the sound of flowing rice or beads blocking out the commercial, you'll kind of have a relaxing, radio Delilah moment. Hiring Peter Cetera to add some Chicago hits to the mix is up to your discretion.

Hopefully, with 364 days to figure out this dilemma we'll all have some great ideas by the time the next Super Bowl rolls around.

Did your church host a Super Bowl party this year?

Where did you watch the game?

1 thing that radically improved dinner time at our house.

A few weeks ago, I said I was going to "bring dinner back." I challenged me and you and all of us, to be deliberate about eating dinner with our families. I wrote a post about it on the E-Mealz blog and included the one thing I learned in the first week. I also had a pretty good record. Think you beat me? Come see in the post and add a comment to let me know how you did. Click here to read the post.

What are you praying about?

Today's short Saturday question is simple. What are you praying about?

What's something kicking around in your head or heart right now?

I try to do this post once a season. Why? Because this site is read in 97% of the countries in the world and the readers of SCL have a steady stream of prayer needs and a huge willingness to pray for each other.

So what is something you'd love some prayer about today?

Bible Cozies.

(Curtis Honeycutt is so old school SCL that I think he was reading it before I even started writing it. I would just think thoughts about Christian satire and in Indianapolis he would would quietly laugh. But if you've read the site for a while to than you know he is a master at the guest post. Here's another great one that I loved. Enjoy!)

Bible Cozies

By Curtis Honeycutt

See what I just did? I relevanted Bible covers by calling them Bible cozies, and that's what I'm all about. A cozy is sometimes known as a warm feeling you get when you see a kitten lick a puppy's nose, but it's also a foam device used to keep beverages cold. And, no, they're not called "coozies". I'm pretty sure a coozy is one of Thomas Edison's failed patents, which was his idea to combine two of his favorite things: kazoos and snickerdoodle cookies.

For the kids out there who don't know what Bible cozies are, they're like phone cases for your Bible, which your parents read in book form. For those of you who don't know what books are—books are those things people used to check out at libraries—before libraries became free Blockbusters.

Yeah, sure, I know what many of the tech-savvy readers out there are mind-Tweeting: "But we all have Bibles on our phones." Yeah, well, this post is for the people who don't have a hover boards or use trash to power their time machines.

Technology aside, a surprising amount of Christians prefer the tried-and-true approach, toting their Bibles dutifully under their arms on Sunday mornings nestled inside Bible cozies (to save time and avoid confusion, I'm going to type "B.C." from now on). The B.C. was originally invented by St. Francis of Assisi around the year 1200 A.D. because he kept spilling coffee on his Bible; now B.C.s have their own section at Christian bookstores. If he could only see them now, he'd probably say something like, "Bookstore? Ha! That must only be for the richest lords in the land!"

There are a vast array of B.C.s out there, and you're going to want to make sure yours represents you well. Here are some examples:

Made of Metal

If your B.C. is made of metal, you probably have a man cave in your basement. You make Bear Grylls look like he's having a tea party. Covered in titanium, your Bible is now bulletproof and requires a 14 digit combination to unlock it. The made of metal B.C. doubles as a blunt weapon and can redirect laser fire (in case you find yourself in a James Bond situation).

Precious Moments

The Precious Moments B.C. is still hanging in there. It is usually the same consistency as a pillow (which helps during a long prayer during the early service) and has ruffles, not to mention the giant-eyed sad children (who to this day haunt my dreams). If you spot one of these with someone over the age of ten, tell them to grow up.

The B.C. B.C.

I was hoping that abbreviating Bible cozy with "B.C." would save me energy, but here I am explaining that a B.C. B.C. is a papier mache Bible cozy made by gluing your favorite B.C. comic strips together, forming a coffee spill-resistant exterior and providing a guaranteed chuckle when you most need it.

Leather

The leather Bible cozy says: "I don't mess around; an endangered, burgundy-hued cow died so I could carry my Bible by this reinforced handle." The leather Bible cozy wins the gold medal, as it is the most common style (although I wonder why I've never seen a white one with large black splotches).

The T.K.B.C.

This is a Bible cozy with a Thomas Kincade painting printed on it. It gets the silver medal for Bible cozies, but wins the gold in the "Most Lighthouses" category.

Duct Tape

A person who rocks the duct tape Bible cozy is resourceful, if not a little nerdy. If they also sport the duct tape wallet, neck tie, and pocket square, tell them that you will pray for them.

Those are the most common types of Bible cozies out there. Something is priceless about having a hard time turning those super-thin, silver-edged pages of a physical Bible (not to mention the maps at the end) that the app just can't replace. Which Bible cozies have you spotted at your church? Which ones would you like to see?

(For more great stuff from Curtis, check out his blog "Get compelled."

Getting prideful over the most obscure things.

You are not as prideful as me.

I know that by thinking you're more prideful than me, you think you've just become more prideful than me, but I assure you that what you think is not the case. (That sentence felt like it was from the Matrix and should have involved a rabbit and a red pill.)

You might think, "Well surely, the guy who writes posts that reveal how silly and prideful we get over stuff like judging people who use the table of contents in their Bible, is not prideful." But you're wrong. If anything, anytime I write a post about some stupid thing Christians are being judgmental about, it's only because I've done some research in my own heart.

I'm like the Pele of Pride. The Oprah of Overconfidence. The Bieber of Braggadocio.

And I was reminded of this status the other day when I felt myself get prideful about the most obscure detail of my life.

I was trying to look up a song online. So I decided to go to YouTube. When I typed in the "You," for the first time ever, the website that auto populated in the address bar was not YouTube. It was "YouVersion," the online Bible.

I've been doing a read through the Bible in one year plan and using YouVersion so it makes sense that happened. But what doesn't make sense is what happened next. Here's what I said to myself:

"Would you look at that? YouVersion came up instead of YouTube. You're pretty amazing you know that? All that Bible reading you're doing, really paying off. You're not out there watching videos of squirrels waterskiing or people getting hit in the crotch by wiffle balls. You're reading the Bible. And not just a little, you're reading the Bible so much that even Firefox took notice. Even Firefox can't deny how holy you are. Impressive."

I am not exaggerating. Well except for the part about not watching squirrel waterskiing videos. I am always up for those, if you have any.

But I thought I was pretty awesome when Firefox auto populated YouVersion. I got prideful over a handful of characters in an address bar.

Have you ever done something silly like that?

What's the most ridiculous thing you've got prideful over?

If you can't think of one, no problem. I understand. We can't all be the Pele of Pride.