Letters from Kamp Krusty

Some Crazy Guy Said Something Crazy About Church

Some crazy guy told me something crazy the other day.  He said there's no precedent in the New Testament for the church gathering for the purpose of corporate, "vertical" worship of God.  This crazy guy kept talking crazy and said that yes, the people of The Way gathered to edify each other and stuff, and that was critical to their community, but that the "meeting for worship" concept isn't in the New Testament.

Him crazy! 

I had a quick response for him, something about, you know, could he pass the salad? or something, and I think that threw him. 

But anyway, I know he's wrong and stuff, but, as I frequently remind, I'm no Bible scholar, so I didn't know exactly where my ammo would be.  So, I guess what I'm saying is, if he's wrong -- and obviously he is -- could you tell me how?  Just want to make sure our answers match mine is all.

Crazy guy likes singing together and stuff, he says, but he was crazily wondering if we haven't way over-funded and over-emphasized this as an expression of what the church is, and we may have mis-communicated what "worship" means to a lot of people. 

I told crazy guy that people like him should stop asking questions and he's probably jealous because I play a mean acoustic and I cranked my David Crowder CD and he got real quiet so I think I made my point.

Stuff that Didn't Happen, Dep't.

Somebody asked me to do this "devotional" thot-thing for some mainstream, well-educated, evangelical, Bible-quoting adults.  I correctly guessed it was to be about God, Jesus, or the Bible. 

(For reference:  At left, I've included a picture of a blurry Bible, superimposed on a pixelated Planet Earth.)

I mentioned we're told to "Fear God" a lot in the Bible, that the actual best English interpretation for the most oft-used Hebrew word for "fear" is actually, strangely, "fear."  As in...you know...fear.

Didn't go over all that well.  I was told we're not supposed to "fear" God, really -- only hold Him in high-esteem.  We're supposed to "fear", as in like, really be BFF, to the max.  That kind of fear.

I mentioned that sometimes our theology interferes with actual revelation.  Like maybe we mentally fashion a God who's not supposed to be feared, really, so we ignore what scripture says.  Mentioned that God will do what He wants, regardless of what we think He's supposed to do. 

Like when He strikes people dead in the Bible.

"No, he doesn't do that," I was told.  "That doesn't happen in the Bible."

I mentioned several instances where it does, including scripture references.

"No.  God didn't do that."  End of discusson. 

So how's your fantasy football team lookin'?

Second Thoughts on "First Life"

One time, a neighbor-guy came over to say hello.  Quick--thinking, I sprung into action, building a shed around him with no doors, so he couldn't get out.  I made it out of glass -- obviously -- so I could watch him implore me to let him out.  It was funny.

...but maybe I shouldn't have done that.  Especially now that I read that maybe my "First Life" thing wasn't a joke.  Maybe when I did that shed-thing, while playing "Sims" on my PC, there was another guy watching me do that on his PC, and I, myself, am a Sim, simulating a game of Sims with my bad Sim-self.

My simulated head hurts. 

But this guy thinks that's for real what's happening, and the writer for the NYTimes not only agrees, he thinks it's MORE likely.  We're all part of a computer simulation on some powerful computer. 

This Times writer is among many who mock "Intelligent Design".  Ludicrous!  But, he says, there IS a solid chance we're all being played by a "Prime Designer". 

So you do the math:  God-as-designer?  Laughable.  But we're-all-in-a-computer-simulation-with-a-designer-on-a-couch?  Well, sure!  (Someday, somehow, I hope to become as wish-fulfillingly naive as a skeptic.)

Anyway, we're all Sims now.  Could be better (Why can't I be in Madden?) but it beats being put in the middle of "Medal of Honor", or having barrels thrown out you by a giant monkey.  I'd just like the Designer to use some cheats so I could get some cash for an awesome TV.  Or make me Qbert.  Thank you.

New Level of Coolness Attained

So I broke my glasses.  I found some awesome duct tape at work.  I taped them.  They're cooler than ever. 

I go home, and my wife is all like, "Oh.  Wow.  THAT is...attractive."

"Seriously?  You know, I kinda thought maybe it was, and..."

"No.  Not seriously."

I'm thinking of experimenting with tape colors.

So I broke my glasses.  I found some awesome duct tape at work.  I taped them.  They're cooler than ever. 

I go home, and my wife is all like, "Oh.  Wow.  THAT is...attractive."

"Seriously?  You know, I kinda thought maybe it was, and..."

"No.  Not seriously."

I'm thinking of experimenting with tape colors.

I'm Slowly Figuring This Out

Relient K is playing a nightclub down here next week.

Traditionally, you would hype a key artist's show, but for a CCM station, a nightclub show can be dangerland.

Old way to handle it:

"Hey, Relient K is going to be in town at 'The Revolution' in Fort Lauderdale on Tuesday.  You can win some free tickets by..."

And this would be followed by about a hundred calls of indignation.  "Dude -- what are you DOING?  That's a NIGHTCLUB!  You can't go THERE.  You are setting a horrible example for our children, etc., etc."

New way to handle it:

"Man, Jesus is my hero.  Like in that Zaccheus story.  I mean, he left the religous people muttering!  They were saying, 'Hey, you can't go hang out with him!  You can't go THERE.  You can't go in his house -- that's wrong!  You're setting a horrible example for our children, etc. etc.'  But right there, in public, he announced he was going where the good religious people said he couldn't go.  I love that Jesus did that, even though it left religious people muttering.

"And in unrelated news, Relient K is going to be at a nightclub called The Revolution this Tuesday.  You can win tickets by..."

Takes a little longer -- but  zero calls of complaint.

Irony: This Isn't Funny

So I was wondering:  What makes us guys so hilarious?

Seriously.  Why are we so stinking funny, when we're sitting around, cutting-up?

No offense to ladies.  Some of you can be a riot.  But we -- us guys -- we're killin' ourselves.  Check out the top comedians of all-time:  Bill Cosby.  Steve Martin.  That one other guy.  Gallagher.  All those guys?  They're guys.

Humor is simple.  It's merely taking two frames of reference, ostensibly incompatible, and overlapping them.*  Frankly, the more intelligent a person is, the more subtle this can be.  But it's the same thing with a little human audience.  You'll get uproarious laughter when you 1) take a cat puppet, and 2) make him say "woof".   I'm telling you, with the right audience, this is solid material.

So why is it us guys are so hilarious?  I have a couple theories, one high-mindedly anthropological, and the other probably right.

1)  It's all about status.  Ultimately, humor connotes intelligence, and intelligence connotes "survivability".  And survivability, for women, is a turn-on.  Humor works like tight abs, and rubber chickens are cheaper than those big dumb exercise balls.

Couple it with character that fairly screams, "I'll never leave you," and you won't even need an awesome car.  Even guys reward other guys for being funny, because they recognize the status this confers from the babes. 

2)  We guys just practice more.  It occurred to me the other day, and this is so WEIRD, that I can't even fathom it:  You ladies, when you're gathered around each other, don't just sit there, thinking, "Okay, what's something funny I can say, right here?"

I'm telling you -- and you may have never realized this -- that's what we guys do.  We're listening -- kinda -- but our minds are going 200 mph in search of something amusing to say.

I asked females about this on my radio show, and while some said they can be pretty funny, they actually acknowledged this difference.  One said, "Why would we waste time with that when there's so much else to talk about?"

Okay, but don't expect to produce comedic geniuses.  You give us Oprah, but we produce Carrot Top.  I think we know who wins THAT one.  Mwa-ha-ha.

* -- Caution:  There's nothing quite so unfunny as disassembling the component parts of humor.  This is why this post is not funny.

Must-Not-See TV

I won't be watching tomorrow night.  There are two reasons for this:

1) I'm completely turned off to politics, Republicans and Democrats, all, and

2) I can't remember what #2 was.  Make that one reason.

I do think, if you're committed to the Democratic Party view of life, it'll be kind of good news/bad news.  The good news is that more Democrats will be in office come January.  The bad news:  America will still be a sovereign nation for at least awhile.  So it's mixed.

Reporters are wondering if more conservative Christians are turned off from the political process, and from my vantage point, they certainly are.  After years of introspection on might-making-right, many on the Christian Right no longer see politics as a be-all, end-all.  This is good news for those on the Christian Left, who still do.

The abortion issue is not what it was.  I mean, it still is what it was -- violent, unjust, unmerciful to the most vulnerable -- but more and more evangelicals consider it an issue on par with, say, auto emissions.  The central ethical/scientific argument over abortion (Is is human life?) is long over (ultrasounds seem to suggest it's not, say, canine life) but it's just not an issue for the hip.

Ditto for marriage.  If you want a ticket directly out of the hip church crowd, say you're voting for someone because the candidate wants to keep marriage as a coherent legal concept.  There's a high price to pay for its loss, certainly, but we've readily paid the price before for sexual liberty.   Like writer P.D. James says, it's not the adults who pay that price.   And the others can't vote.

There will be silver linings for conservatives.  A resounding Democratic Party resurgence to power might lead to op-ed columns that actually branch out from the standard template of "Aren't Christians stupid/easily-led/idiots/ignorant/racists/fools/hicks/unfashionable/repressed/simpletons?"   Might.  Maybe.

We won't get an immediately-coordinated campaign alleging widespread voter fraud.  Reverse the outcome, and we will. 

Also good:  Democrats in power will actually spend less than Republicans. 

If Kansas votes for the enlightened, we wouldn't get another What's the Matter with Kansas?, asking how dupes could possibly ignore their pocketbooks, and instead vote on values issues.  What kind of truly evolved American would vote according to convictions about issues instead of what lines their pockets? 

Maybe we'll be spared that.  Probably not.  Intellectual energy is tough to recover.  I know this first-hand after Xboxing.

I might TiVo NBC.  I like it when Tim Russert uses that marker-board thing. 

Let Me Flow Through Your Chart

We're looking for a church.  Here's what I want:

First, I want to be attracted by a glossy mailer.

From there, I want to be welcomed, gently, at an Enjoy Level Event, targeted at my kids, where I'm given a non-threatening introduction to the grassy area precariously close to the church's building.  I want to then be made aware of the church's Sunday Event.

At that Event, I want to be met, where I live, emotionally-speaking, by the Worship Ministry.  I want to be engaged by music that speaks to my generation, and an array of video images that assure me that faith is relevant in today's culture -- my culture.  I want a guy to teach me the Seven Ways I Should Be Doing Something-or-Other in My Marriage.  I don't want eight ways.  I want Seven.

I do NOT want, at that point, for the  Small Groups Ministry Team to step in, and make me aware of Small Groups that I can be involved in.  No -- that should wait, until I sign up for an Introductory Class that explains the overall vision.

I want this vision expressed in a flow chart.  I want to know how I can move through this flow chart, and move from Crowd Level, to Committed Level, and then, ultimately, to Core Level. 

I want to find out how I can fit into the leader's overall vision, and become a cog in the dream that he was given for this very dynamic, growing area.  I want to be shown a chart with a crowd of stick figures at the bottom, and I want to yearn to be one of those stick figures.

It's at this point -- yes, now -- I want to be placed in a contrived Small Group of people I've never really known before.   I then wish to have administered to me a battery of Spiritual Gifts tests.  I want these tests evaluated by an outside firm.   When these tests reveal that I am gifted for leadership and preaching, I want to then be assigned to nursery duty every third Sunday of the month.

It's precisely then that I hope to submit to criminal background checks, and have my social security number run through databases of various local authorities.  If they clear, I will be at the Committed Level.

I want my ear tagged, and my tail docked.  I want to be inoculated by a visiting veterinarian every six weeks, and my mouth periodically checked for infection.   I want a steady diet of #2 corn meal, enriched with fattening agents. 

I want nobody to get hurt.  I want to be unknown.

Have We Got a (deleted) for You!

NBC is airing Veggie Tales, but taking out the dangerous stuff. 

You know, like where the vegetables tell children that "Remember kids, God made you special, and He loves you very much."  That's right Iceman:  Larry's dangerous.

They're doing this, they say, to avoid advocating "any particular religious worldview."   Like tmatt says, we certainly don't push the idea that God loves kids.

Whatever.  NBC folks are free to worry about bad words from animated vegetables if they like. 

But a prof at Fuller drops the f-bomb:

"If we are going to be so finicky, we have to ask ourselves what values are we projecting under children's television?" said Eddie Gibbs, a professor who specializes in religion in popular culture at Fuller Theological Seminary in Pasadena. "In Western society, most of our values are Christian-based…. Clearly you can't do it to promote a religion against another because that would be unfair. But we do live religiously pluralistic society. You can't pretend that religion is marginal to our society."

Oh yes we can, doc.  We certainly can pretend this about religion.  It takes shoddy education, a bit of paranoia, some abject dishonesty, revisionist history, plus copious amounts of denial -- but just watch.

A FWIW, BTW note on Veggie Tales:  I don't think latest ones are funny anymore. Just me?

People Ask Me

A lot of people ask me, they're like, "Hey, how can you be so cool?  How do you do that?" -- they ask that.  I kind of caution them about how it's not that easy and stuff, and how it's kind of a you-got-it-or-you-don't kind of thing. 

But they're not usually satisfied with this.  They want -- nay, demand -- tips.  So I try to give them something, like where I got my awesome shoes. 

They're "sidewalk surfers" (I surf) and straight-up the most comfortable awesome shoes I've ever had.  I wear them each day as I ply my trade.  I think my awesome shoes gain respect in the workplace.  In fact, I think they must say, "Make way, and suddenly stop your quiet group laughter and quickly disperse, because now Brant's in the hall with his awesome shoes."

I give tips, but they're just tips.  One pair of awesome shoes is not going to make people this cool, and, frankly, most people don't really want the burdens of coolness:  the constant high-pitched screaming from crowds of teens, the hassles of facial-stubble cultivation, the chafing of my accordian straps.