I had a strange dream last nigh. I think that my mind must have been thinking about our study of Exodus at Renovatus, and you’ll see why.
We (my wife, child, and I) were taking a walk through a nearby neighborhood admiring all the homes. We were pointing out which ones we would like to own and which ones we thought needed a good cleaning. It started when we noticed one family sitting in their living room in a circle around a golden idol. The idol was shiny and beautiful. We thought it weird, but continued on. Soon, however, we noticed another family doing the same. What’s up with these golden statues? Two houses later we were able to look in and see that they had idols in every visible room! It was freaking us the freak out. Not only did this family congregate in the living room around this freaky idol, but they kept them in every room of the house!
At this point it was no longer about the beautiful walk with the fam, no, we were now on a mission to learn as much as we could about the strange statues. It was well past dinner time when we went for our walk, but as dreams go, there were a few families eating their steak and potatoes. However, instead of eating them around a table they ate them before their statue. It was as if their meal time was being offered up as some sort of sacrifice. Little talking happened between the family members, but instead they listened to what the idol had to say. One man wandered out to the street to take out the garbage and I plucked up the courage to ask him some questions about this phenomenon. He said that it wasn’t an idol. He said that it was just fun to look at, that it was entertaining and shiny. He also said that it made his life easier ’cause it told him what to wear, how to live his life, what was cool, what wasn’t, what marriage was supposed to look like, who to vote for, and generally just how to think. He noticed the strange look on my face and asked if I had yet to purchase my “gold” as he called it. I told him that I probably wouldn’t get one ’cause I would prefer to find better things to do with my time. He called me weird and crazy among other things.

Oh, wait a second, that wasn’t a dream. That was last night on 25th and G Street. Since when did spending 1/4 of our out of bed life watching TV become normal?* It’s ridiculous. It’s foolish. And it’s the norm.

* The average American watches around 4 hours of TV a day. So if you sleep 8 hours a day and are awake for 16 that means that one quarter of your entire life is spent in worship of that stupid box. Even worse is that you go to work for 8 hours a day…hmmm…8(work)+8(sleep)+4(tv)=20. That leaves you with 4 hours a day to eat, shower, drive, read, talk, write, walk, play with your kids, make love to your wife, play your xbox, do the dishes, and write your blogs!

I visited the Clark County Fair this week with wife, child, and in-laws. Good times were had by all. Here are some random thoughts and/or observations from that little excursion:

1. Whats up with psychics? This little old lady with no teeth was like “You wants a know yer footure?” Her station consisted of an old blue tarp turned into walls, and old ratty card table and a box fan. It got me thinking about how all the palm readers, tarrot card peoples, etc seem to always be located in the ghetto. Whats up with that? Lets work through the logic here: we (speaking on behalf of the psychics) have supernatural special powers, we know the future, we make money off our amazing knowledge of the future, we can’t afford respectable places in town, we can’t afford a table cloth for our card table, we need to sell futures for more money! I mean, if they really knew the future wouldn’t it make sense that they would bet the horses more often and all be millionaires? I wonder if in the order of psychics (’cause there must be an “order”) there are rules that say that you cannot use your abilities for your own gain. Rather you are required to sell your services at minimum price to those of only stout and upright heart. I guess we’ll never know.
2. I miss the bus. I rode the bus from the fair to the mall where I had to go to work. There was only four of us on it which seemed pretty pathetic for a bus ride, but it was enjoyable none the less. In Portugal to get anywhere I had to take a bus ride. Anywhere. I loved it. On the bus I can read, I can sleep, I can talk to people, it’s complete driving freedom. Not to mention it’s good for the environment, for my gas bill, and for traffic problems. Here’s the rub, though, Vancouvers bus system is…well…just ok. I wish I could ride the bus here. Maybe I’ll find a way. I miss the bus.
3. I could care less about Carnies (spelling?). They do their job, I make them money, they creep us all out, and thats the way it goes. But the people at the fair who really get me are the exhibit people. You know, Cutco knives, Miracle Blades, Equity Reality, etc. They’ve all got their wheels where you can spin ’em and win major prizes. They all want your info so you can enter into a drawing for free vinyl siding. They all want to share their amazing product with you, they want to wheel and deal ya, they want to make money. Here’s the thing, I walk down those isles trying not to make eye contact ’cause I feel so incredibility sad for those people. Maybe sad is a bad word, maybe embarrassed is a better one. I’m embarrassed for them when I reject them right to their face. And so, to save them from their shame I take a free pamphlet about how I’m going to hell. I even pretend like I’m interested in buying a home just so that they can get excited and give me a free mug and pen (I don’t want their mug, I just want them to feel like they’re not rejects). I spend the entire time trying to save those people face! And they don’t even give a care (remember that expression?)!
4. I alluded to it on #3, but whats up with all the booths offering grace? Seriously, every single Jesus booth that I found was not about grace but about the fact that I should be scared about going to hell (of which they inform me that I am). What if a church group had a booth where we promoted an opportunity to help people? Ohh, or what if we had a station where we gave people back rubs. People would be like “what are you selling?” and we’d say “nothing”. “Oh, then why are you giving people back rubs?” “because you looked worn out from walking and being in the sun.” “and so you just set up a booth to give backrubs?” “Pretty much. I’m a Christian who goes to Renovatus and we were wondering what we could do to be nice to people while they were at the fair. We thought back rubs might make you feel better.” “huh, pretty cool” “You do realize that you’re going to hell right?” “what?” “I’m just kidding…but it’s true…do you want to get baptized over at the goat pavilion?”

I’ve got bad news folks! My wife and I have been searching the Social Security Administration web page only to find out that Richard (aka, Dick) is still the 93rd most popular name in America! Do you know what this means? It means that there are thousands and thousands of loving parents/mothers who nametheirr child Dick! Something is wrong with America today.

I know I’m beating a dead horse, but I must post once more about this same topic.
I had a realization.
My words and my actions, or even my thoughts, did not match up. Or, better put, my tendencies and actions showed that my philosophy of ministry was way different from my spoken or desired way of ministry!
Bored yet?
You see, here is the assumption that I’ve accidentally made: Sunday morning worship gatherings reach people who do not know Jesus.

I don’t agree with that. THEY DON’T! I mean, it’s possible. It happens. People can come to know Jesus through corporate worship, but 99% of the time that is an exception and not the rule. People meet Jesus outside of Sunday mornings. Then, if they have some reason, they will be interested to see what happens on Sundays. Who wants to watch others worship a mangod that you care nothing about? It’s poppycock unless you’re previously seeking a mangod to worship.

Na, I don’t like it. The kind of church that I’ve been creating (mostly in my own personal churchology…is that a word?) is intended for already churched people. It’s a perfect church for those who don’t like other churches or who were churched but “fell away” or something like that. I don’t want that kind of church. That kind of church still caters inwardly. That kind of church thinks of Sunday first and foremost.

Nope, I need to change my basic foundational thinking. No longer do I want my first inclination to be to invite someone to Sunday morning church (unless it fits). Rather I want to live out what I say, that church is more than 10:00-11:45.

Have you made it this far? Don’t worry about commenting. This is a sort of journal for me. Peace out amigos/as

I had a great conversation with a friend the other day. Here was his thought concerning Christianity in my own words.

“Would not Jesus be more honored by Christians if they spent more time doing what he did rather than sitting on pews (or uncomfortable green chairs) talking about how great he is. Maybe they should stop going to church and start being like Jesus.”

React. What are your thoughts?