(Today is a guest post from Barnabas Piper. He’s a pastor’s kid, just like me. You might have heard of his dad, Bill Piper. I’m kidding, it’s John. If you’d like to write a guest post, click here!)
Back in the 90s, comedian Jeff Foxworthy did a bit called “You Might Be a Redneck if . . .” What followed the “if” was something like “ . . .your wife’s hairdo has ever been destroyed by a ceiling fan” or “ . . .you refer to the 5th grade as ‘my senior year’.”
I have developed my own set of criteria to help pick out pastors’ kids (PKs). Without further ado, and in the inimitable Jeff Foxworthy spirit:
YOU MIGHT BE A Pastor’s Kid If . . .
. . . you can explain the difference between a narthex, lobby, fellowship hall, and the commons.
. . . Psalty, the Donut Man, and McGee haunt your dreams at night.
. . . you won at least 12 prizes in your life for scripture memory feats.
. . . you snacked on communion bread.
. . . you knew where the janitor kept the church keys and took full advantage.
. . . December 31 isn’t New Year’s Eve, it’s “I hope people give a lot from their Christmas bonuses” day.
. . . you’re pretty sure “don’t run in church” is the 11th commandment.
. . . you were told to kiss dating goodbye. And didn’t listen.
. . . you knew which Sunday school classes had the best pastries.
. . . you were Picasso with the church pew golf pencil.
. . . you were the Zorro of sword drills.
. . . you were the Willie Mays of Bible trivia baseball.
. . . the scariest thing you ever dressed up as for Halloween was Goliath.
. . . you recommitted your life to Christ at least 12 times.
. . . you thought your name was So-and-so’s-son (or daughter).
. . . you were always the first person called out for shenanigans.
. . . you involuntarily volunteered for all church functions.
. . . You could blackmail half the church
. . . Half the church could blackmail you.
. . . You sat in dread each Sunday waiting for your name to be uttered from the pulpit.
. . . Every major holiday was interrupted by a church service.
. . . You yearned for the anonymity of independence then felt totally out of place when you finally received it.
. . . you heard the words “damn” and “hell” used more often in their literal meaning than as cuss words.
. . . You know what it means to “raise my Ebenezer.”
. . . You can list, off the top of your head, the 10 commandments, the 12 tribes of Israel, and all 10 plagues in less than 2 minutes.
. . . You speak like a normal person, but when you pray you become either a 17th century English poet or a timid teenage girl.
. . . You ever re-wrote worship choruses as something . . . less wholesome.
. . . You gravitate towards the numbers 3, 7, and 12.
. . . Your first ever concert was a Christian band. Bonus points if it was held at a church.
. . . God is both incredibly familiar and remarkably distant.
. . . You got asked weekly “So, are your going to be a pastor when you grow up?”
Those are the signs you might be a Pastor’s Kid, so … are you?
(For more on the uniqueness of growing up as a PK and working through its challenges, check out Barnabas’ book, The Pastor’s Kid: Finding Your Own Faith and Identity
visit his blog and follow him on Twitter.)
