In July, they had me come in and speak at their big, awesome, mod church service-thing in a gym. There were like, 600 people there. They asked, and I was glad to do it. It's one of those sleek stages and double-big-screen-things and cool water pictures that moved and stuff behind the Chris Tomlin lyrics.
(New apparent goal for blog: No entries without words, "Chris" and "Tomlin")
Anyway, there were pictures cool waterfalls and lava flows and stuff and everyone there is young and good-looking and cool and it was dark in there and they had rugs and coffee and stuff. I felt right at home, like I was in, you know, a coffee shop, except darker, and with big spotlights and some giant pictures of volcanic activity, and some basketball goals.
I came up on the stage, in my cool jeans and hip, tucked-in t-shirt, and, in the big spotlight, I spoke. I was not behind a pulpit or music stand. I didn't use notes. I'm too slick for that. The scripture was on the screens, with pictures of spaceships taking off and stuff.
I could tell -- I had their attention, instantly.*
I spoke about some powerful things.* I spoke about some things that really hit home.* I made people laugh*, and then cry*, laugh again*, and then suddenly -- quite suddenly -- stop and consider their lives.*
I drove scripture home with passion.*
I paused at just the right times, and varied my vocal cadence and pitch, to great effect.* Mouths were agape the entire time.* People found my jokes very, very amusing.* They were clearly, noticeably unsettled when I paused in front of them, stage-center, and charismatically spoke in an emotionally-charged, vulnerable way.*
We need, I told them, to be truly honest with God -- truly open.*
I reminded them that I, too, am not perfect. Oh, sure, my hair might be impressive, and my physical fitness level better than most, but I, too, had shortcomings. "No, really," I told them, as I could see their faces of pure shock and disbelief.*
I was told, by many on their way out, how they will never, ever forget my powerful sermon.*
* -- A church elder pointed out, immediately after my sermon, that my fly was unzipped the entire time.
(NRB story continued, since I just got the picture from my friend, Matt)
...and that's how I fulfilled a life-long dream of getting kicked off TBN, because after Paul Crouch magically appeared with entourage, he instructed Jesus, a camel, George W., Sarah Palin, and some Roman guards, and some other guy to gather 'round, and he started interviewing everybody, and I stayed in the shot, nodding knowingly, "Of course...of course...", stroking my chin, until a producer noticed me and told me to leave.
Because there's nothing more fun than forcing people to look at your own photo albums, here's an online version.
I can't force you to look at it. I can't even force myself to think you'd want to. But here it is.
Oh, the places you'll go!