despre

Stuff Christians Like

Bible

Throwing the B Card.

by

Whenever my wife and I try to talk about our future, we both end up throwing different cards on the table almost immediately. I’m a big fan of the “G card” (God) and she’s a big fan of the “D card” (Dad). Here’s how a typical conversation about our future breaks down in about 30 seconds:

ME: “I’d like to think about maybe moving or doing something else. I’m not sure if I’m where I’m supposed to be or doing what I’m supposed to be doing.”

HER: (Fearing I’m on the verge of suggesting some crazy, non health care-having adventure like making the family join the carnival for the Lord) “Maybe you’re where you are so that we’ll have a steady income. Why can’t being a good dad be what you’re supposed to be doing?”

ME: (Sensing that I can’t follow my dreams and be a good dad at the same time) “I’m just trying to do what God is calling me to do.”

Boo-yah! The God card always trumps the Dad card because in essence, by getting God into the mix, I’ve said to her, “Are you saying you want to stand in the way of the Almighty, the Great I Am, Jehovah, the Holy Lord? Is that what this is about?”It’s an almost flawless card to throw.

The only way to counteract it is to reply, “Well, that’s not what I’m hearing from God right now.” You in essence snatch the G card off the table and throw it back down. I think technically it’s the “G squared card” at that point, but I’m not sure.

It’s not even really my favorite card anymore though. It used to be, but lately I’ve started hearing pastors throw the Bible card like it was going out of style. In the middle of a sermon, they’ll make some claim like, “You can’t love money and love God.” Sensing that the affluent crowd might have winced a little and thought, “Yeah, but can you love a Range Rover and God at the same time?” the pastor will say, “I’m not trying to be argumentative; I’m just telling you what Jesus says in the Bible.”

I love that. On the one hand it’s such a succinct way to shut down complainers, and on the other, it’s a great way to motivate people. A pastor I know mentioned how he loves when people disagree with him after a B card throw-down because it inspires them to get into the Bible.

“Oh no, he didn’t just say that. I’m going to look that up, prove him wrong and throw the B card back at him on stage next week. Security will probably escort me out, but I’ll be throwing out B cards like an octopus as they drag me to the exit.” (Flipping Bible pages when he gets home that Sunday afternoon.) “Huh, what’s this? That verse he quoted is in the Bible? He was right? Weird.”

Having a very specific idea of what certain people from the Bible looked like.

by

This is a photo of Noah from my daughter’s Noah’s Ark puzzle. Really? Are you kidding me? That’s not what Noah looked like.

A mustache? I’m far from being an Old Testament scholar but I’m pretty sure it was against ancient Hebrew tradition to just rock the stache. Sure instead of Jubilee the Israelites could have celebrated a “mustachio bashio” and that would have been delightful, but back in the day it was all facial hair or no facial hair. The mustache never made a solo cameo.

And glasses? I’m sure they had those back then, but those look like some sort or evolution of the Rob Bell glasses. That guy should be at a Kings of Leon concert, not stepping off of the ark.

But perhaps the craziest thing of all is the curly sideburns. Am I supposed to imagine Noah spent most of his time inside the ark styling those things? “Hmm, too curly. Let me just try a little more tar, there, perfect. Flipped up high enough to say, ‘I’m cool, I like to keep it fun, I didn’t forget to grab the weird animals like the anteater,’ but not so curled that it looks like I can’t handle business. I built the freakin’ ark. Like the Flight of the Conchords, Noah knows what to do when it’s business time.”

Taken together as a package, Noah’s head looks like how I imagine somehow that stockpiles bodies not animals. Creepy.*

Am I the only one that does this? Am I the only one that has a mental picture of what someone from the Bible looks like? If you saw a red headed rendition of King David, would you do a double take? (Don’t tell me that it’s impossible for David to have been red headed, or I’ll throw the God card and say “nothing is impossible for God.”)

If I’m not the only one that does this, let’s play a little game.

If you had to cast the Bible movie, who would you choose for the following roles:

Noah =
Moses =
Paul =
David =
Goliath =

*If you look exactly like this photo, please don’t be insulted. Who am I to judge your head? I have a unibrow. Seriously, if you’re red headed, with glasses, beady little eyes and curled sideburns, we’re cool. Promise.

Fancy Electronic Bibles.

by

(I have a lot of friends that are using their Blackberrys and iPhones to look up Bible verses. Which is cool until I saw this new Bible from my friends Tyler Stanton and Tripp Crosby. Here, in the first ever video guest post on Stuff Christians Like, is a commercial they made for the new iBible. They made it for Catalyst West Coast and it’s part of a handful of videos they’ve released that are floating about the Internets right now. Expect to see more guest posts from these guys in the future because they are hilarious and they live in Atlanta and sometimes they come over my house and we try to make each other funnier.)

For more from Tyler and Tripp, check out their blogs or their site trippandtyler.com

Buying a new bible. (The 9 easy questions you need to ask yourself.)

by

When friends tell me it’s hard to pick a new Bible because there are so many choices, I say “Poppycock!”

Then they say, “Why am I friends with you?”

And I say, “Because when I become a famous Christian I’ll take you as my guest to the Dove Awards.”

And then they say, “Seriously, why am I friends with you?”

Then I say, “Ahh fiddlesticks!” And the whole thing kind of spins out of control from there with me continuing to yell old timey swear words and them continuing to question the validity of our friendship. But, I stand by that initial “poppycock” because picking out a new Bible isn’t difficult. You go to the store and buy one or you liberate the one that’s in the drawer of your bedside table at a hotel. Two steps and you’re done. That’s even easier than that Plain White T’s song that Atlanta radio stations are playing approximately 92 times a day right now.

And to prove my point, I went to a local Christian book store and came up with the “9 questions you need to ask before you buy a Bible.”

Here they are:

1. Do you like to read your Bible while at the same time being invisible to the naked eye?
What you thought I was going to start with NIV vs. KJV? That’s too easy, let’s get into the real issues: How often do you plan on reading your Bible in the woods while being completely camoflauged? Because if you’re like me, and you want to get out in the woods, cover yourself in mud like Arnold in “Predator” and cling motionless to a tree while reading Habakkuk you’re going to need a Bible that is enrobed in Camo. Fortunately I saw one called “Mossy Oak Brand Camo Holy Bible.” I agree, it’s a little weird that the word “Brand” got top billing over the word Bible, but you wouldn’t want someone confusing this Bible with one of the other camo manufacturers.

2. Do you want a Bible that would make sense in the movie “Red Dawn?”
I thought the Mossy Oaks Bible was tough until I heard a Bible on another shelf giggling at it’s girly ways. I’m of course talking about the Outdoor Bible. It’s waterproof, snow proof, sleet proof, hail proof. (I guess I could have just said waterproof because all those other things are made of water.) And if your question is, “Yeah, but does it come with a free burlap bag?” The answer my grizzled friend is yes, yes it does. Best of all on the front it says that it’s perfect for “Camping, Hunting, Boating, Soldiers, Missions.” Is it me or does that list of activities get progressively more dangerous as it goes on? I kind of expected them to say after missions that the Outdoor Bible was “perfect for hunting the world’s most deadly prey. Man.”

3. Do you care about the sex of your Bible?
Yikes, I meant the “gender” of your Bible. Do you care if you get a lady Bible or a dude Bible? There are options you know. The easiest way to tell the difference is by color. Lady Bibles all come in pink and dude Bibles all don’t. Plus the name’s are different too. Lady Bibles are named pleasant, like “True Identity” and “Hugs Bible for Women.” Dude Bibles all have names that sound a little red bully, like “Strive.”. (And don’t just assume because you’re a dude you buy a Dude Bible. As latin sensation Bryan Adams sang, “To really love a woman, you read her Bible.”)

4. How skinny do you want your Bible to be?
We’ve given Bibles some serious body image issues. Go ahead and join the skinny Bible mania but please make sure you know exactly how skinny you want that word of God to be. Some Bibles promise thinness but you can tell they haven’t really worked their core out as hard as they should. Trust me, you can tell. Here are the options I found: ultrathin, trimline, thinline, ultraslim and compact text. Me personally? I’m waiting for the ultratrinslim Diet Rock Star edition.

5. Do you care about color?
If the answer is no, then get the straight up black, gray or brown editions. Expect a little more flair from your Word of God? How about Camel and Chocolate? Too much flair? How about a calming orchid plum. Of course if you want to show your support of Stuff Christians Like, you can always get a Bible in Razzleberry. I’m not kidding, this is real and this is real awesome.

6. How big do you want the print?
If you’ve got bad eyesight or just prefer to have it seem like everyone in the Bible is yelling at you, “MY NAME IS RUTH!” fear not because you’ve got some options. I have to admit I initially misread one version I saw as “Giant Panda.” It’s actually “Giant Print” although for a second I thought to myself, “Finally, Wycliffe Bible Translators have translated a version of the Bible for the Giant Pandas.” And I felt pretty good about recommending that option to you until I saw that there was a version called “Super Giant Print.” That kind of feels like naming the Bible, “Awesome Awesome” or “Mr. Mister” but maybe I’m wrong. The downside to the Super Giant version however is that it’s 19,000 pages long, weighs slightly more than a Kia and comes with a moving dolley to get it into your car.

7. Are you an airmen?
I know, I know, I’m hitting all the important questions right now. I’m kind of on a streak. But there’s actually something called “The Airman’s Bible” and it offers a “special prayer and devotional section for Air Force personnel.” Do the Marines have their own Bible? The Coast Guard? My assumption is that it’s got all the passages about us having our strength renewed like the eagle highlighted with a little note that says, “See, right there. That’s God talking to us. Beat Navy!”

8. Do you want it illustrated?
I’m not talking Frank Miller Sin City style, although he alone could do justice to some of the violence in the Old Testament, but do you want pictures? The store I went to had two different illustrated options which were pretty much the same thing anyway: The Thomas Kinkade Edition and the Manga Edition. Please tell me that somewhere out there a publisher is combining those two options and doing a “Mangkade” edition of the Bible. There would still be thatched roofs and idyllic brooks that babble about, but they’d be crawling with Ninjas that caused horizontal racing stripes of awesomeness when they leapt through the air to clear out the lenders from the temple. Oh man, this thing practically writes itself. Baker, Thomas Nelson, Zondervan? The world is waiting for Mangkade.

9. Do you want Max Lucado to read it to you?
I’m kidding, that I’m aware there’s not a Max Lucado audio version of the Bible available. But you can buy the Max Lucado version of the Bible or the John Maxwell version or the John MacArthur version. (I just realized that John Maxwell is kind of the nexus between “Max Lucado and John MacArther.” Interesting.) If you dig those three guys you can get their Bible. I doubt Zondervan will ever give me my own version of the Bible but maybe they’ll take me up on my proposal to do a version of “The Shack” starring Shaquille O’Neal. I’d call it “the Shaq.” I think 1,987 other Christians have already realized that The Shack sounds like Shaq, but my idea is different because instead of God being a woman, NBA star Larry Johnson, who used to dress up like his grandma in commercials for Converse sneakers, would be in it. And Shawn Kemp, the reign man would be in it too but only because he’s out of work and very available. And the soundtrack would be done by Terence Trent D’Arby. Wow, two free gold ideas in one post. Mangkade and the Shaq. Why don’t I have a multi-book deal and pants made of hollowed out diamonds stuffed with gold yet?

Hopefully in addition to learning something, you’ve found that it’s a lot easier to pick a new Bible then people try to say it is. Sure, if you search on Amazon for Bibles there are literally 493,743 different options available, but with the help of this list you’ll be able to cut that result set down to 460,000, maybe even 450,000 in no time.

How did you pick your Bible?

Judging people that use the table of contents in their Bible.

by

Stop, just stop, it’s too late. I saw you. We were just told to turn to Nahum 2:4 by our pastor and out of the corner of my eye I saw you flip to the table of contents in your Bible.

Don’t, don’t try to explain yourself. I thought you loved God. I thought that when we weren’t at church together you were off somewhere reading your Bible, but clearly that was a mistake on my part. How long has this been going on, this, ugh, I don’t even like how the words feel in my mouth, this “using the table of contents to find books of the Bible?”

I felt like we had made so much progress. When we first met you had a Bible with those indents, those “dumb thumbs.” As in, “I’m dumb, I can’t find Titus, here is where I place my thumb.” But we got through that, we pushed through that and got you a grown up Bible without indents marking the different books.

And then today, today I catch you using the table of contents?

Who are you?

I don’t even know you any more.

Sure, you can find Psalms. Congratulations, you know where Psalms is. Everyone can find that book. It’s 60 pages long and in the middle. Yeah, that’s right, in addition to the location of the books of the Bible I know the length of each book.

Do you know what I did with my table of contents? I ripped it out and rolled it into a homemade shofar horn that I blow when it’s time for my family to come down and read our nightly Bible studies.

Go on, look up Nahum. It’s too late to save face now. You’ll find it on page 1466 and it’s only seven pages long. But what am I telling you for? You’ve probably confused Nahum with the Marvel comics anti-hero, Namor the Sub-Mariner, prince of Atlantis, grandson of the Atlantean Emperor Thakorr.

I’m so embarrassed for you.

Thinking you're naked.

by

I don’t want to brag, but I’m pretty awesome at applying band-aids. And make no mistake, there is an art. Because if you go too quickly and unpeel them the wrong way, they stick to themselves and you end up with a wadded up useless mess instead of the Little Mermaid festooned bandage your daughter so desperately wants to apply to a boo boo that may in fact be 100% fictional.

Half of the injuries I treat at the Acuff house are invisible or simply wounds of sympathy. My oldest daughter will scrape her knee and my 3-year old, realizing the band aid box is open will say, “Yo dad, I’d like to get in on that too. What do you say we put one on, I don’t know, my ankle. Yeah, my ankle, let’s pretend that’s hurt.”

But sometimes the cuts are real, like the day my 5-year old got a scrape on her face playing in the front yard. I rushed in the house and returned with a princess bandage. As I bent down to apply it to her forehead, her eyes filled up with tears and she shrunk back from me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I don’t want to wear that band-aid.” She replied.

“Why? You have a cut, you need a band-aid.” I said.

“I’ll look silly.” She answered.

Other than her sister and her mom, there was no one else in the yard. None of her friends were over, cars were not streaming passed our house and watching us play, the world was pretty empty at that moment. But for the first time I can remember, she felt shame. She had discovered shame. Somewhere, some how, this little 5 year old had learned to be afraid of looking silly. If I was smarter, if I had been better prepared for the transition from little toddler to little girl, I might have asked her this:

“Who told you that you were silly?”

I didn’t though. That question didn’t bloom in my head until much later and I didn’t understand it until I saw God ask a similar question in Genesis 3:11. To me, this is one of the saddest and most profoundly beautiful verses in the entire Bible. Adam and Eve have fallen. The apple is a core. The snake has spoken. The dream appears crushed. As they hide from God under clothes they’ve hastily sewn together, He appears and asks them a simple question:

“Who told you that you were naked?”

There is hurt in God’s voice as He asks this question, but there is also a deep sadness, the sense of a father holding a daughter that has for the first time ever, wrapped herself in shame.

Who told you that you were not enough?

Who told you that I didn’t love you?

Who told you that there was something outside of me you needed?

Who told you that you were ugly?

Who told you that your dream was foolish?

Who told you that you would never have a child?

Who told you that you would never be a father?

Who told you that you weren’t a good mother?

Who told you that without a job you aren’t worth anything?

Who told you that you’ll never know love again?

Who told you that this was all there is?

Who told you that you were naked?

I don’t know when you discovered shame. I don’t know when you discovered that there were
people that might think you are silly or dumb or not a good writer or a husband or a friend. I don’t know what lies you’ve been told by other people or maybe even by yourself.

But in response to what you are hearing from everyone else, God is still asking the question, “Who told you that you were naked?”

And He’s still asking us that question because we are not.

In Christ we are not worthless.

In Christ we are not hopeless.

In Christ we are not dumb or ugly or forgotten.

In Christ we are not naked.

Isaiah 61:10 it says:
For he has clothed me with garments of salvation and arrayed me in a robe of righteousness.

The world may try to tell you a thousand different things today. You might close this post and hear a million declarations of what you are or who you’ll always be, but know this.

As unbelievable as it sounds and as much as I never expected to type this sentence on this blog:

You are not naked.

Thinking you’re naked.

by

I don’t want to brag, but I’m pretty awesome at applying band-aids. And make no mistake, there is an art. Because if you go too quickly and unpeel them the wrong way, they stick to themselves and you end up with a wadded up useless mess instead of the Little Mermaid festooned bandage your daughter so desperately wants to apply to a boo boo that may in fact be 100% fictional.

Half of the injuries I treat at the Acuff house are invisible or simply wounds of sympathy. My oldest daughter will scrape her knee and my 3-year old, realizing the band aid box is open will say, “Yo dad, I’d like to get in on that too. What do you say we put one on, I don’t know, my ankle. Yeah, my ankle, let’s pretend that’s hurt.”

But sometimes the cuts are real, like the day my 5-year old got a scrape on her face playing in the front yard. I rushed in the house and returned with a princess bandage. As I bent down to apply it to her forehead, her eyes filled up with tears and she shrunk back from me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I don’t want to wear that band-aid.” She replied.

“Why? You have a cut, you need a band-aid.” I said.

“I’ll look silly.” She answered.

Other than her sister and her mom, there was no one else in the yard. None of her friends were over, cars were not streaming passed our house and watching us play, the world was pretty empty at that moment. But for the first time I can remember, she felt shame. She had discovered shame. Somewhere, some how, this little 5 year old had learned to be afraid of looking silly. If I was smarter, if I had been better prepared for the transition from little toddler to little girl, I might have asked her this:

“Who told you that you were silly?”

I didn’t though. That question didn’t bloom in my head until much later and I didn’t understand it until I saw God ask a similar question in Genesis 3:11. To me, this is one of the saddest and most profoundly beautiful verses in the entire Bible. Adam and Eve have fallen. The apple is a core. The snake has spoken. The dream appears crushed. As they hide from God under clothes they’ve hastily sewn together, He appears and asks them a simple question:

“Who told you that you were naked?”

There is hurt in God’s voice as He asks this question, but there is also a deep sadness, the sense of a father holding a daughter that has for the first time ever, wrapped herself in shame.

Who told you that you were not enough?

Who told you that I didn’t love you?

Who told you that there was something outside of me you needed?

Who told you that you were ugly?

Who told you that your dream was foolish?

Who told you that you would never have a child?

Who told you that you would never be a father?

Who told you that you weren’t a good mother?

Who told you that without a job you aren’t worth anything?

Who told you that you’ll never know love again?

Who told you that this was all there is?

Who told you that you were naked?

I don’t know when you discovered shame. I don’t know when you discovered that there were
people that might think you are silly or dumb or not a good writer or a husband or a friend. I don’t know what lies you’ve been told by other people or maybe even by yourself.

But in response to what you are hearing from everyone else, God is still asking the question, “Who told you that you were naked?”

And He’s still asking us that question because we are not.

In Christ we are not worthless.

In Christ we are not hopeless.

In Christ we are not dumb or ugly or forgotten.

In Christ we are not naked.

Isaiah 61:10 it says:
For he has clothed me with garments of salvation and arrayed me in a robe of righteousness.

The world may try to tell you a thousand different things today. You might close this post and hear a million declarations of what you are or who you’ll always be, but know this.

As unbelievable as it sounds and as much as I never expected to type this sentence on this blog:

You are not naked.

Favorite Post #6. Good enough for the church. (Or God's Love Letter to Artists)

by

Like a lot of things on this site, you’ll probably never hear someone deem something, “good enough for the church.” But if you’ve spent any amount of time in the church, chances are you’ve bumped up against this. One of the top worship leaders in the country drove this home for me when he recently said the reason people liked his work was that he was “from the recording industry and had never believed something was good enough for the church.”

I think this happens for a number of reasons. Sometimes it is financial. Not everyone has the budget of a mega church. So they’ll ask for the “ministry rate” when it comes to work. But often that means, “we’d like your B- quality work.” Sometimes it’s a matter of resources. If volunteers are tithing their time it’s hard to do a massive musical with just 10% of someone’s commitment. Other times it’s a product of having the right person in the wrong ministry. Like the example I gave in an earlier post about the church that didn’t want to hurt the unskilled guitar player’s feelings so they just kept turning his speaker down lower and lower. Sometimes we misinterpret our gifts and end up serving in a way we’re not supposed to.

Those are all symptoms though and don’t get at the core issue. (Core issue is such a counseling term.) At the heart of it, the reason the church is not known as being a global leader in creativity and excellence is pretty simple. We missed God’s love letter to artists.

I missed it about a dozen times myself. But while doing a two-year walk through of a one year read the whole Bible study plan, I stumbled upon it in Exodus.

There are two parts and both are pretty subtle though I’ve written about them before. The first takes place in Exodus 30 and 31. In 30, God anoints Aaron and consecrates the priests. It’s a big deal, with fragrant spices, sacred oil and a sense of the holy that is almost tangible through the pages. And after it’s over, do you know who God focuses on next? Do you know who comes second? The artists.

I had to read that a few times until I believed. There in the desert, as God establishes His people, as He sets into motion His very heart, the artists fall directly after the priests. Maybe that’s mind-blowing only to me, but I find that stunning. Of all the professions, of all the people in the desert, it is the artists He speaks to next. Is there a more beautiful reflection of the importance He places on art and creativity?

We’ve made God military in a lot of our culture. We march in God’s army. We have men’s groups that are based on battle, but He doesn’t focus on the warriors after the priests. He doesn’t say the strength and might are most important after Aaron and the priests. He says creativity is.

Here is what 31:3 says:

“and I have filled him (Bezalel) with the Spirit of God, with skill, ability and knowledge in all kinds of crafts- to make artistic designs for work in gold, silver and bronze, to cut and set stones, to work in wood, and to engage in all kinds of craftsmanship.”

This is not a cold, boring, vanilla God speaking. This is the first and ultimate patron of the arts sounding a gong for anyone that has a scrap of creativity in them. But I said this love letter to artists has two parts.

The second part continues in chapter 36. As they prepare to build the ark, God issues a call to the artists in the desert. Verse 2 says:

“Then Moses summoned Bezalel and Oholiab and every skilled person to whom the Lord had given ability and who was willing to come and do the work.”

That verse punched me in the stomach. If you read it, you realize there were only two conditions to building the ark as an artist. You had to have the skill and you had to be willing. That means that some people refused the call and sat on their hands in the desert instead. They could have built God’s ark, His temple, but instead chose to sit in the desert and waste their talent.

When I prayed about that, I felt like God told me I had the same opportunity to build his temple everyday. I replied, “what are you talking about? You’re crazy.” (He’s big enough for me to say honest things like that.) But then He reminded me that in 1 Corinthians 6:19 it says the body is the temple. He reminded me that every time I use my skills to help someone, I am helping rebuild their temple.

Foof. That’s big. That’s scary. That’s why I am writing today. I’ve sat in the desert for years wasting what meager writing skills I have. I’ve sat in a pile of sand, while the people in my life are broken and hurting, hoping someone will help them rebuild their temple. And I just can’t sit in the desert anymore.

The book I’m writing for Zondervan right now might be my first and my last chance to publish something. This might all be a fad. People might stop reading this site tomorrow and disappear. I might not go on tour to churches and conferences and all that. I want to, I really do, but ultimately it’s not about that. It’s about rebuilding temples. And as long as I keep doing that, as long as I keep reading and responding to God’s love letter to artists, everything else is going to take care of itself.

Favorite Post #6. Good enough for the church. (Or God’s Love Letter to Artists)

by

Like a lot of things on this site, you’ll probably never hear someone deem something, “good enough for the church.” But if you’ve spent any amount of time in the church, chances are you’ve bumped up against this. One of the top worship leaders in the country drove this home for me when he recently said the reason people liked his work was that he was “from the recording industry and had never believed something was good enough for the church.”

I think this happens for a number of reasons. Sometimes it is financial. Not everyone has the budget of a mega church. So they’ll ask for the “ministry rate” when it comes to work. But often that means, “we’d like your B- quality work.” Sometimes it’s a matter of resources. If volunteers are tithing their time it’s hard to do a massive musical with just 10% of someone’s commitment. Other times it’s a product of having the right person in the wrong ministry. Like the example I gave in an earlier post about the church that didn’t want to hurt the unskilled guitar player’s feelings so they just kept turning his speaker down lower and lower. Sometimes we misinterpret our gifts and end up serving in a way we’re not supposed to.

Those are all symptoms though and don’t get at the core issue. (Core issue is such a counseling term.) At the heart of it, the reason the church is not known as being a global leader in creativity and excellence is pretty simple. We missed God’s love letter to artists.

I missed it about a dozen times myself. But while doing a two-year walk through of a one year read the whole Bible study plan, I stumbled upon it in Exodus.

There are two parts and both are pretty subtle though I’ve written about them before. The first takes place in Exodus 30 and 31. In 30, God anoints Aaron and consecrates the priests. It’s a big deal, with fragrant spices, sacred oil and a sense of the holy that is almost tangible through the pages. And after it’s over, do you know who God focuses on next? Do you know who comes second? The artists.

I had to read that a few times until I believed. There in the desert, as God establishes His people, as He sets into motion His very heart, the artists fall directly after the priests. Maybe that’s mind-blowing only to me, but I find that stunning. Of all the professions, of all the people in the desert, it is the artists He speaks to next. Is there a more beautiful reflection of the importance He places on art and creativity?

We’ve made God military in a lot of our culture. We march in God’s army. We have men’s groups that are based on battle, but He doesn’t focus on the warriors after the priests. He doesn’t say the strength and might are most important after Aaron and the priests. He says creativity is.

Here is what 31:3 says:

“and I have filled him (Bezalel) with the Spirit of God, with skill, ability and knowledge in all kinds of crafts- to make artistic designs for work in gold, silver and bronze, to cut and set stones, to work in wood, and to engage in all kinds of craftsmanship.”

This is not a cold, boring, vanilla God speaking. This is the first and ultimate patron of the arts sounding a gong for anyone that has a scrap of creativity in them. But I said this love letter to artists has two parts.

The second part continues in chapter 36. As they prepare to build the ark, God issues a call to the artists in the desert. Verse 2 says:

“Then Moses summoned Bezalel and Oholiab and every skilled person to whom the Lord had given ability and who was willing to come and do the work.”

That verse punched me in the stomach. If you read it, you realize there were only two conditions to building the ark as an artist. You had to have the skill and you had to be willing. That means that some people refused the call and sat on their hands in the desert instead. They could have built God’s ark, His temple, but instead chose to sit in the desert and waste their talent.

When I prayed about that, I felt like God told me I had the same opportunity to build his temple everyday. I replied, “what are you talking about? You’re crazy.” (He’s big enough for me to say honest things like that.) But then He reminded me that in 1 Corinthians 6:19 it says the body is the temple. He reminded me that every time I use my skills to help someone, I am helping rebuild their temple.

Foof. That’s big. That’s scary. That’s why I am writing today. I’ve sat in the desert for years wasting what meager writing skills I have. I’ve sat in a pile of sand, while the people in my life are broken and hurting, hoping someone will help them rebuild their temple. And I just can’t sit in the desert anymore.

The book I’m writing for Zondervan right now might be my first and my last chance to publish something. This might all be a fad. People might stop reading this site tomorrow and disappear. I might not go on tour to churches and conferences and all that. I want to, I really do, but ultimately it’s not about that. It’s about rebuilding temples. And as long as I keep doing that, as long as I keep reading and responding to God’s love letter to artists, everything else is going to take care of itself.

#499 Having a Favorite Book of the Bible

by

(Remember Bryan Allain? He wrote “The Seven Sports Myths Christians Like” and is a hilarious, insightful writer with a crazy handle on the sports world. Bill Simmons of ESPN.com is kind of like the non Christian version of Bryan Allain. At least that’s what I tell people when they ask me what Bryan’s writing style is. He was kind enough to throw another guest post our way. I hope you’ll enjoy it as much as I did.)

Billy Joel says he thinks of all the songs he has written as his children. Some grow up to be famous, and some don’t amount to much, but he loves them all the same. I sometimes wonder if God feels the same way about all 66 books of the Bible. Does He love quiet, unassuming Jude as much as he loves superstar John? Does He love Esther, even though she never mentions Him at all?

Most Christians see nothing wrong with an unequal distribution of Bible love. We’ll talk about our “favorite verse”, “favorite book”, “favorite passage”, and “favorite body part comparison in Song of Solomon” without ever feeling guilty. We all have our favorites, and everyone is okay with that.

I was thinking about this on a flight recently, and my mind started to wander into some ridiculous territory. (Yes, consider that a warning, because I’m taking you with me.) What if this plane crashes? And what if only six of us survived, but instead of us all landing on a mysterious island with a smoke monster and a crazy French woman (shout out to my LOST peeps!), we were somehow scattered onto 6 different islands with no way of reconnecting? And what if, in those few moments before we crashed, we had the intuition to take the one Bible that was on the plane (which I had brought, of course) and split it up equally between the 6 of us in a Fantasy Football-style draft; literally ripping the pages out of the Bible to take with us to our deserted island?

This pretend scenario led me to two very real observations: 1) I need to bring a Sudoku book with me the next time I fly, and 2) I need to figure out which 11 books of the Bible I would take with me BEFORE tragedy strikes. There’s no way I’d be able to make the right choices while plummeting from the sky in a 747, drenched in my own urine.

So, after much prayer, fasting, and a re-reading of Jason Boyett’s Pocket Guide to the Bible, I’ve come up with a Cheat Sheet for the 11 books I would target in a “Books of the Bible Fantasy Draft”. Here they are:

Bryan’s Books of the Bible Fantasy Draft Cheat Sheet

1. The first book I would take would be the gospel of Luke. It would provide the account of Jesus’ life that I’d want to have, including the parable of the Good Samaritan, which is only found in Luke’s Gospel.

2. Mystery. Symbolism. Strange Monsters. No, I’m not talking about LOST again; I’m talking about my second selection, the Book of Revelation. Reading it will keep my imagination sharp and my spirit encouraged. The book is a great reminder that no matter how my own story arc ends, God has the final episodes of the Series already written.

3. At Number 3 I like Paul’s letter to the Romans. Since I’ll spend a majority of the next 10 years deep in thought or talking to myself, why not use that time to wrap my head around the Bible’s most difficult doctrines? (I hear that’s how Matthew Henry wrote his popular Bible Commentary back in the 1700s. He shipwrecked himself on a deserted island, destroyed his iPhone, and ate coconut shavings all day.)

4. Up next is the scandalous Song of Solomon. A little too early to draft this short book about romantic love? Perhaps. But I’d want to keep that famous Bryan Allain Charm© at peak levels in case my wife Erica shipwrecks on the island and we’re stranded together. (Erica, you can stop laughing now. Yes dear, it was a joke, but it wasn’t THAT funny.)

5. Once I conquer the mysteries of Revelation and the doctrines of Romans I’ll need a new challenge. That’s why the book of Hebrews earns a spot in the five-hole. It might take the rest of my life, but I WILL figure out who wrote this book.

6. At number 6 I like the shortest book of the Bible, 2 John. Clocking in at only thirteen verses, it will come in handy for those days when I want to FEEL like I’ve read a lot, but don’t actually want to READ a lot. Oh, stop making that face! You know you’ve been there before.

7. Number 7, the biblical number of completion. This is the perfect spot to stick the book that started it all, Nahum. No, I’m kidding, this is where I’ll put Genesis. If my wife does find me on the island, we can follow Genesis’ blueprint and start a whole new civilization like Noah and his Wife-Who-Is-Not-To-Be-Named.

8. My lack of handyman skills render me inept at building anything more complicated than a Jenga tower. Since my eventual homemade raft escape is bound to result in my drowning or becoming lunch for a large aquatic mammal, I’ll take the book of Jonah.

9. For those depressing days when I feel like the unluckiest person on earth, I’ll bring along the book of Job. Hey, at least I’m not covered in boils and surrounded by negative friends with weird names.

10. The book of James sneaks into the top ten solely on the strength of its verses about trials and tribulations. As each day finds me looking more and more like Tom Hanks in Castaway, I’m going to need that encouragement. Speaking of Castaway, if I find a can of tennis balls on the island, they will become my best friends like Wilson was for Tom Hanks. And I will definitely name them Obadiah, Zechariah, and Haggai.

11. Rounding off my list at #11 is the book of Numbers. Sure, I’ll read it to glean wisdom from time to time, but mostly it will be great for those nights when I just can’t fall asleep. Before you accuse me of blasphemy, have you ever tried to read Numbers after 11pm? There’s a reason Jewish rabbis refer to the book as “Biblical Ambien”.

So there’s my list. If you plan on flying anywhere in the near future, I suggest printing it out to take with you, just in case. Better yet, why don’t you spend some time creating your own Books of the Bible Cheat Sheet.

You don’t need to reproduce your whole list in the comments, but here’s a question I’d love to read your answers on. If you were in a Books of the Bible Fantasy Draft, and you took one of the gospels as your first pick (because I think most of us would like to have an account of Jesus’ life with us), what 3 books would you pick next and why?

P.S. You can find more of Bryan at his sports/faith blog, Prayers For Blowouts, and at his personal blog, Ramblings and Such.