Instead of cookies at the open house...

But Mom, It's Educational!

We’re four weeks into summer now, and the kids have been sleeping in, lounging, loafing, and otherwise gleefully wasting time. Well, that’s not entirely true. Mia and Jacob have been running with the cross country team most mornings. Mia has a part-time nannying job. Jacob and Philip have been practicing their instruments. And they’ve all been helping to walk the dog and clean up around the house. Of course, since they’re around the house more, there’s a lot more to clean up.

But when they’re not doing their duties with admirably moderate resistance, they are practicing the fine art of goofing off. As intermittently conscientious parents, we have initiated earnest conversations with the kids about using their time well because these are formative years and their minds are full of potential etc., etc., blah blah blah. As a result, the children have taken to figuring out how to justify as wholesome and edifying whatever amusement they currently favor.

Such as watching a cheesy, Arthurian soap opera.

You’ve never heard of cheesy, Arthurian soap operas? Well, obviously you are a cretin American . The Brits, always on the vanguard, have enjoyed the television show Merlin for an entire season already, whereas the show only began airing in the U.S. about two weeks ago.

Not to worry. It is possible (if you know how to navigate the deep web) to obtain the 13 episodes that have aired in Britain. For educational purposes. Of course. Because anything about King Arthur involving actors with British accents must be educational.

The premise of the show is that Merlin, the great wizard of Arthurian lore, was not always a great wizard. No, at one time, he was a nerdy but handsome teenager who worked as a servant for the young Prince Arthur all the while keeping his magical powers poignantly secret. Curiously enough, the main female players in Arthurian legend, Guinevere and Morgana, were also teenagers at the very same time in the very same castle. At least according to the show.

I can tell you as a professor of British literature with some actual knowledge of Arthurian legends: this is all very silly. The show has barely anything to do with the real source texts for Arthurian legend. I mean, the producers of the new Star Trek movie are fastidious scholars by comparison, having based their “reboot” of the ST “legend” on painstaking research into their canonical sources. The Merlin folks, on the other hand, use phrases like “loosely based” and “reimagining.”

But who cares? Four remarkably attractive young people in period costumes getting into all kinds of perilous mischief right under the nose of grumpy old King Uther, who is only trying to run a decent, magic-free kingdom—this is a formula for some deliciously decadent, strangely addictive entertainment.

Speaking of formulas, we've seen all the episodes now, and let's just say one can recognize some well-established... patterns. It is entirely possible to sum up the whole season with one composite episode. So here it is, our loving tribute to our new TV crush. Consider this your free sample.

Merlin: An All-Purpose Episode

EXTERIOR. CAMELOT. DAY.
Establishing shot of Camelot castle in Wales, which the French have thoughtfully preserved for the show somewhere in their country.

Cut to Medium shot of evil sorcerer-type person engaged in evil sorceror-type scheme—poisoning the water supply, kidnapping innocent townspeople, sending zombie undead knights into Camelot, etc. Dramatic music. Perhaps some cackly laughter.

INTERIOR CASTLE. DAY.
Merlin is doing little servant chores about the castle. Gwen bursts onto the scene with furrowed brow and a water jug on her hip.

GWEN
Oh dear oh dear! Something has gone terribly wrong!

MERLIN
What is it?

GWEN
Camelot is under threat! We are out of water/missing townspeople/experiencing a creepy disease/helpless against zombies and/or griffins! Also, I have a secret crush on you and we never get to have a decent conversation, what with all the evil villains around here!

They run off.

INT. TOTALLY PREDICTABLE, MEDIEVAL-TYPE THRONE ROOM. DAY.
(Uther’s throne, by the way, suspiciously resembles the coronation chair on display at Westminster Abbey. Wait. Has anyone checked lately to see that it’s still there?)

NAMELESS EXTRA
A terrible problem is threatening the kingdom!

UTHER
Gaius, you’re the stock wizened, bookish character: what do you make of it?

GAIUS
I’m afraid, sir, that this surely involves sorcery.

UTHER
Aha! Well! Never mind asking further questions to ascertain the scope or nature of the problem. I shall have to take immediate draconian measures. Because I hate magic. Hate it, hate it, hate it. I shall execute someone! By morning!

Morgana floats into the throne room in a gauzy, flowing, jewel-toned gown. Close up shot of Morgana’s furrowed brow, panning to her fetching bosom.

MORGANA
Oh king, you must approach this problem with wisdom, caution, and noble judgement!

UTHER
And ruin the episode? Certainly not! I have a responsibility to protect this kingdom and to maintain dramatic tension. You are my ward and the obvious hottie of the show, therefore I expect you to obey me reluctantly and go flouncing out of the room.

Morgana throws a glance at the hunky, chain-mail-clad Prince Arthur, who is brooding and pacing about, chin on fist, in the corner. She flounces out, reluctantly obedient.

UTHER
Arthur, you must solve this problem for me so that I can stand around in leather gloves, appearing stern and kingly. Go out there and prove how princely you are by doing something dangerous and useless!

ARTHUR
Fine!

INT. ROOMS OF GAIUS, THE COURT PHYSICIAN. DAY.
Gaius is twiddling randomly with sciency-looking gadgets, usually involving candles, beakers, and string. Maybe beetles.

MERLIN
What shall we do about the terrible problem besetting Camelot this week?

GAIUS
We must solve the problem with science. Or perhaps by whacking it with sticks. Sometimes that works in the middle ages. Whatever we do, you musn’t reveal that you have magical powers. The king hates magic. Hates it, hates it, hates—

MERLIN
Yes, but Arthur is now about to do something pointless and very dangerous.

GAIUS
Oh yes. Right. Merlin, your destiny is linked with Arthur’s. You have no choice. If you do not use magic, then Arthur will surely perish! And probably everyone else, too!

MERLIN
But you just said…

GAIUS
Just promise me you’ll be careful.

MERLIN
Um. OK.

Merlin, having puzzled for a while over this problem, decides to use his lifeline.

INTERIOR. DUNGEONY PASSAGEWAY.
Merlin strides along passageway, which opens out into a large, CGI cavern. A large, CGI dragon flaps into view.

MERLIN
I need your advice. What shall I do?

DRAGON
Every time I give you a straight answer, you ignore my advice. Therefore, I will say something mystical in my Shakespearean-actor voice. Here goes. The answer lies in the golden woods. Only the sword of emeralds dipped in unicorn poo can save you now. Make haste, or Arthur will die and you will not fulfill your destiny!

MERLIN
Always with the destiny. But where am I going to get… oh never mind.

INTERIOR, PRINCE ARTHUR'S SUPER-COOL, FUR-TRIMMED TEENAGER BEDROOM. DAY.
Merlin is doing something slavish such as polishing Arthur's boots.

ARTHUR
You know, Merlin, I’m feeling a little angsty about this dangerous and pointless task my father has given me. Too bad you’re too witless and clumsy to help me. Ha ha. [He claps Merlin on the back.] Still, I guess I appreciate our moments of awkwardly expressed brotherly affection. It takes my mind off Morgana’s cleavage.

MERLIN
Uh. Yeah. Ha ha.

INT. GAIUS' ROOMS. EVENING.
Merlin is practicing magic words, but nothing is happening. Gwen bursts in.

GWEN
Merlin, what are we going to do?

MERLIN
Do you mean about the fact that you are the only non-white regular cast member in the show, and therefore must appear undefinably multiracial in order to cover all the bases?

GWEN
No, I mean about the problem besetting Camelot this week.

MERLIN
Oh. That. Well…

Morgana bursts in (different gauzy gown this time).

MORGANA
Yes, what are we going to do?

MERLIN
Let’s make a plan that involves breaking all the castle rules, since we are naughty teenagers. But don’t tell Arthur. He’s the prince and has to appear responsible.

Arthur bursts in.

ARTHUR
What are you doing? Is it something against the rules? Because if so, I want in.

OTHERS
But… your father!

ARTHUR
Haven’t you people ever heard of Freud?

OTHERS
Hunh?

ARTHUR
Never mind.

MERLIN
Well, I’m going to go break some rules.

OTHERS
Well, we’re coming with you.

MERLIN
No you’re not! It’s too dangerous!

The four naughty teenagers then argue about who’s coming with whom to do what, whether or not Arthur should actually do the useless and dangerous task, who should fool the adults with a haplessly planned distraction, who gets to be the noble sacrifical hero taking the heat for the others, etc. Arthur and Morgana alternate between sniping at each other and flirting. In the next few scenes, Merlin sneaks about the castle. Or perhaps all four teenagers sneak about the castle, the girls inexplicably wearing flowing, hooded capes that create large shadows and trail behind them around every corner.

EXTERIOR. THE CASTLE YARD. DAY.
Arthur is busy hacking away with a broadsword at the weekly guest actor dressed up as an evil minion/creepy druid/rotten brigand/zombie knight.

ARTHUR
CLANG, CLANG, CLANG!

MINION/DRUID/ BRIGAND/ZOMBIE
Why are we having this sword fight? CLANG, CLANG, CLANG!

ARTHUR
Because every episode has a sword fight! CLANG, CLANG, CLANG! It’s an Arthurian convention! CLANG, CLANG, CLANG!

MINION/DRUID/ BRIGAND/ZOMBIE
I don’t suppose I get to win, do I? CLANG, CLANG, CLANG!

ARTHUR
Nope. I’m the one in the opening credits. CLANG, CLANG, CLANG!

At this point, it’s time for the show’s climax. This might involve the teenagers getting caught sneaking about the castle, OR the sword fight saving the day. Alternatively, we might need Merlin to go tramping about a woodsy soundstage in his rustic leather jacket, conversing with low-budget special effects. Whatever it is, at some point, Merlin will whisper magical words.

Close up of Merlin, hiding behind a tree or farm cart, his hand outstretched over or toward some object.

MERLIN
(in a vaguely Welsh accent): whusha whusha whusha whusha whusha whusha

***Something dramatic happens.
Music swells appropriately, beginning with throaty, lush lower strings and concluding with cymbal clashes and french horn blasts. ***

MINION/DRUID/ BRIGAND/ZOMBIE
Urghhh!

Druid/zombie keels over. Arthur flips off the bucket he is wearing as a helmet. He sweats handsomely into the camera.

EXTERIOR. TOWN SQUARE. DAY.
Lots of straw and animals and burlap-clad people strewn about.

TOWNSPEOPLE
Hooray! We have no idea that Merlin just used magic to save the day! We’ll give the credit to Prince Arthur instead! We are happy random townspeople again!

ARTHUR
[Sweating] There, Daddy. You see I’ve saved the day. Again.

UTHER
Yes, son. Yes, I suppose you have. And it’s a good thing you’ve rid the kingdom of magic once again. Because I hate magic. Hate it, hate it, hate it.

Witty banter between Arthur and Merlin. In the background, Morgana looks lovely in yet another gauzy gown while Gwen appears puzzled, but happy.


END.




So. You can see how we could become enamored of such a show. I’m a little worried that my students will start watching it, because if they do, they will like it much much better than the real stuff I teach in my courses. And we will be forced to lament once again the sad deprivations suffered by people in the medieval period, when they had only rhyme and meter to entertain them rather than BBC television.

Another Casting Announcement

Earlier we announced that someone, perhaps connected with the Kohls corporation, is evidently planning a made-for-TV movie about our lives. The two starring roles have already been cast, and now the producers are cleverly leaking photos of some of the other casting choices.

Here, for example, we see a young fellow who is apparently going to be playing the role of Philip. Quite the impish little moppet--and well dressed, too!

We're also cluing in to the idea that the daily dullness of our actual lives will have to be jazzed up to make this sucker sell on the Hallmark channel. So our real-life, mostly-mutt Maizey will become not one but two radiant purebred yellow labs. Meanwhile, apparently Ron will be commuting to work not in a 1998 Geo Prizm with 100,000 miles on it, but instead will be roaring along astride this painfully hip vintage road machine. In fact, maybe he doesn't work at all, since we appear to live now somewhere in the Scottish Highlands.

Tune in next week for previews of "our" smiling family handing one another food processors and cozy socks under a 10-foot Douglas fir laden with hand-crafted ornaments--all on sale!

Come to me, all you weary...

In keeping with the theme of interesting chair photos, there is this, from the goofy god-stuff gallery at Ship-of-Fools:

An Instructive Comparison...

Go West -- A discotheque semi-hit by the Village People (and another semi-hit when covered by the Pet Shop Boys in 1993).

Give Thanks -- a worship mega-hit by Henry Smith. Covered a gujillion times by every praise band on the planet.

Timing? BOTH songs were written in 1978, and released in 1979.

Coincidence? You be the judge.

(Of course, it's not like this particular chord pattern is unique.)

Disclaimer: Listen at your own risk. The authors of this blog are not responsible for the onset of worship-impairment syndrome brought on by viewing these clips.

That Sermon Needs a Bigger But

So yesterday we're all at the dinner table, talking about the morning's church service. The conversation turned to the sermon, titled "Unjust suffering," and offered by our fabulous pastor, Jack Roeda (happy 25 years, Jack!). The text was 1 Peter 2:13-25, a passage addressed to slaves about appropriate submission. Next week he's tackling the next pericope: submission of wives and women. Gee, good luck with that one, Jack.

We all agreed that Jack did a great job explaining what the passage says and proposing how it might apply to our lives. Yet we also agreed -- especially given the history of a troubling text like this one and others like it -- that sometimes it's important to articulate what the passage doesn't say. It means this, BUT not that. Deb was the one who encapsulated our thoughts so memorably: "I guess the sermon needed a bigger but." I'm going to be using that one in my preaching classes this year, I'm pretty sure.

And it's not a bad way of talking about those occasions in sermons or political speeches or, heck, English 101 papers when the possible objections are so near the surface that they need to be addressed. Deb says that from now on, instead of telling her students "You should add a section in which you refute possible objections," she's going to write, "This paper needs a bigger but."

A Little Dating Advice

Mia turns 15 this week. That means driver's training, obsessive Facebooking, ipod-assisted parent ignoring, and (*gulp*) boys. Fortunately, the giddy terrors of dating remain, for Mia, largely unexplored as of yet. This is giving us time to slap together some parental wisdom on this perennially puzzling topic, filled as it is with risks, with unknowns, with new life and new civilizations.

Not being experts on dating ourselves*, we figure we need to consult the source of our most valuable life-wisdom: Star Trek. (Sample: never beam down to the planet while wearing a red shirt!)

Wesley Crusher, for instance, the ST character in the tender teenage demographic, has a couple of alarming encounters with "young women" who are not what they seem to be. In fact, many a promising space romance has been cut brutally short by some groaner of a revelation. Picard, Riker, Kirk, Bev Crusher, Troi, Jake Sisco--just about every starfleet character with a smidge of libido has discovered that love can bring, shall we say, unexpected challenges.

As with so many things in life, a lot of these complications could be avoided with some careful screening beforehand. So here we present the "Wesley Crusher Pre-Date Quiz." All Rienstra children will be required to administer this quiz to all interested parties before anybody backs out the driveway.

• Are you now or have you ever been a being of pure energy?
  
  
• Are you a psychic projection, a transporter reflection, or a sophisticated hologram?

• Are you a shape-shifter? (this does not necessary disqualify you)
  
  
• Are you ferociously guarded by a shape shifter? (this does disqualify you)
  

• If we innocently kiss, will I be impregnated by your alien spawn?
  

• Do you reproduce in some unexpected way that you really should inform me of right now?

• Are you a symbiont being, and if so, do both your parts agree in their affection for me?

• Do you only like me because I'm the first thing you saw when you emerged from your maturity pod? (this doesn't necessarily disqualify you, either).

• Do you, in fact, exist at this point in the space-time continuum?

Of course, in addition to this filtering system, all would-be suitors will also be required to cite, from memory, the first question and answer of the Heidelberg Catechism. Let's see Wesley's space girlfriends do that.

*By the way, not being dating experts and being Star Trek experts -- total coincidence!

Elephant Seal Sweet Potato

Caption This Photo

Inspired by an offhand comment made at Calvin's Symposium on Worship, some friends of mine persuaded me to pose for this picture.

You may guess the phrase which prompted it, or make up your own. A few options to get you started:

• Ron is Riding his Homiletical Hobby Horse
• The world Meijer is my parish
• The Word straight from the Horse's...
• Penny for your Thoughts

Church Hopping

This is dangerously, accurately, embarrassingly funny.

King of the Hill.  Season 10, Episode 11.

Word of the Day

As the youngest member in family of rather effusive talkers, Philip has always had to fight for his right to be heard. Once, when he was around three, he interrupted an adult discussion in in the front of the car by pointing to himself and calling out loudly from his car seat: "HELLL-LLLO! Can I have some talk back here?!?"

Philip also has a terrifically fertile imagination, so that in his head he's constantly inventing new playground games with complex rules, or devising plans for world conquest as the superhero Captain Fire. And of course, he loves to share these plans with the family.

In detail.

Amazing, non-stop detail.

So it doesn't surprise us that these days, in the car or at the dinner table, if someone should give the conversational floor to Philip, it's not likely to be relinquished anytime soon. This is only partly because he has something to say -- it's also because he simply wants to give his parents and siblings payback for all the years he had to sit quietly, listening to all their talk.

Hence, the word for today, to describe these occasions when Philip makes a parliamentary power grab using his gregarious gift of gab:

Philibuster
phil·i·bus·ter fil-uh-buhs-ter -noun

The "It's up to You-Charist"

Apparently we here in Grand Rapids are on the cutting edge of liturgical inculturation. Not just once in a while, but every month a few churches here in town sponsor an increasingly popular event that is known as the "U2charist."

Despite the admiration of Bono in certain circles, (not entirely undeserved), the U2charist is not the worship of an Irish singer who sacrifices his rock-star career in order to lobby for African debt relief.

No, it is, rather, a fairly ordinary worship service wherein a congregation from a liturgically conservative tradition (usually Episcopal) lifts up the One Campaign and the Millenium Development Goals (in the sermon or prayers in particular) and incorporates U2 songs into the traditional liturgy, replacing, for instance, an opening hymn with Mysterious Ways, or singing Gloria as service music.

I'm not sure I want to comment too critically on this sort of thing -- it does indulge a healthy impulse to reach out and connect with people the church usually doesn't, and to embrace the good things God is already doing in the world outside the church. That's nothing but good. Full stop.

Still, one wonders if the clever marketing ploy that is the name of the service (and it is clever) might distract attention from, well, Jesus. The holy supper isn't about U2; and the sermon isn't (or shouldn't be) first about laudable social goals -- except as they are a fitting response to Jesus' message of concern for the poor.

Furthermore, it does feel a bit like a desperate lunge at cultural relevance by the usual staid and respectable members of the church family. Done wrong, I suspect, it may feel a bit like when Uncle Eugene tried to dance the Macarena at Suzie's wedding. Awk. Ward.

And then there's the inevitable slippery-slope questions. If the church offers a service to attract the U2 fans and that particular sub-culture, should it do the same for other subcultures? Should Christians somewhere offer a Competitive Prayer-service for athletes and prayer warriors? Or a Goth Mass that really embraces the dark side of the human condition? Or a Jazz Vespers that is so cool it's hot? (Short answer: maybe.)

All of this might or might not be worth commentary on this blog, except that today I found that the instigator of the first U2charist has a sense of humor about herself, as she responded to critics with a list of further liturgical experiments unlikely to come to your town anytime soon, including:

• The Kazoocharist - for vaudeville musicians
• The R2D2charist - for Star Wars enthusiasts
• The Goo goo g'joo-charist - featuring music by the group that once claimed to be more popular than Jesus

To which we add, in the spirit of Theologiggle, the following:

• The Achoo-charist - a service of prayer for healing from colds and allergies
• The Chim-chim-chiroo-charist - a good-luck service featuring music from Mary Poppins and the ceremonial "shake 'ands or blow a kiss" with your neighbor
• For the gourmand, there is the Cordon bleu-charist, the Fondue-charist, and even the Home-brew-charist (that's for you, Chip!)
• The Sioux-charist and Zulu-charist -- bold experiments in adaptation to particular cultures; those willing to go a bit further may consider the Voo-doo-charist or the Vishnu-charist

At this point, you can easily see how one can get carried away.

• I.O.U.-charist - capitalizing on the Dave Ramsey rage -- an offering will be held for people dealing with overweening debt
• Haiku-charist - The Lord be with you/With one voice, in verse, they spoke/And also with you
• Et, Tu-charist - a service of reconciliation for those who have been the perpetrators or victims of betrayal
• Deja-Vu-charist - talk about anamnesis! (WARNING: worship geek joke alert)
• Shoo-bee-doo-bee-doo-charist - featuring the music of Frank Sinatra and dry martinis as the blessed beverage

And now, we invite you to comment on the following or add your own ideas:

• Tattoo-charist (hmmm)
• Kung-fu-charist (whaddya think, Andrew?)
• Pas-de-deux-charist (liturgical dancing with the stars?)
• Timbuktu-charist (this one is way out there)
• Kalamazoo-charist (this one not quite so far)

You know, there seems to be no end to the possibilities here. Maybe I should make this part of my 5-year scholarly plan...

UPDATE: Hey - just realized I can start my scholarly work right here. Since my dissertation has to do with paedocommunion (i.e., the full participation of all baptized children/infants in the Lord's Supper), perhaps the last chapter, after all theological analysis, should be a return to praxis: a set of liturgical recommendations for the cootchie-cootchie-coo-charist.

UPDATE2: Jacob just suggested that congregations uncomfortable with the cootchie-cootchie-coo-charist can keep their sunday-school or children-in-worship programs and have an age-appropriate celebration of the Winnie-the-Pooh-Charist. Hunny. Mmmm.

UPDATE3: How about the Dr. Who-charist? Check it out. For reals. (Thanks, Bethany!)

Children in Worship

Pastors of souls must therefore, realize that, when the liturgy is celebrated...it is their duty to ensure that the faithful take part fully aware of what they are doing, actively engaged in the rite and enriched by it. -- Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, Vatican II

In an ongoing parental attempt to fulfill our happy duties as "pastors of souls," we try to actively engage our children in corporate worship on Sunday each week as best we (and they) can. That can mean any number of different things: letting them hold the bulletin so they can see the words we are to say together, encouraging them to sing along and explaining if we come to a confusing word or phrase (e.g. here I raise my Ebenezer), and sometimes just pointing to things that are happening: "Pip! Look! Here comes the dancer with the water. Let's see if any splashes around when she pours it into the font."

The hardest part of the service in which to keep the kids engaged is the sermon. So not long ago, during an uncharacteristically tired exhortation, I asked Philip to listen, to read the scripture text, and to draw pictures. I said "if you were preaching on this passage with your pictures, what would you draw?"

Here is a sample of the artwork he produced:

(Bonus points if you can identify the text)

Active engagement is a bit easier when you're involved in some form of leadership. This past week it was a family affair: Debra and Jacob were playing viola and violin, respectively, and Mia and I were percussing. Before church, then, I invited Philip to try to learn a simple rhythm on the djembe so that when the drummers led the congregation in song at the presentation of the gifts, he could join us and offer his own musical gift. I sang the song, and he was starting to own the groove, but when I started cutting a counter rhythm he got confused and stopped. "I don't want to do this in church," he pouted. "I'll mess up."

"Well, you certainly don't want to mess up," Deb replied. "If any of the leaders make mistakes, no one in church gets their God-points that week." We all smiled at the family joke we use when we find ourselves caught up in behavior that implies that we worship in order to get something from God. Thus assured, he agreed to play.

Of course, he did a perfectly fine job, and his offering, along with any mistakes he made -- like the inattentive or insincere worship any of us make -- were still received by the Spirit, perfected by Christ, and offered to the Father.

But it also assured him to see that he wasn't the only one whose worship needed perfecting. For example, he seemed delighted to note that our pastor led us straight into the prayer of confession after our opening hymn, bypassing our usual liturgical Alleluias (perhaps he was especially eager to confess something?).

I hope that in all of this, our children are learning that the house of the Lord -- where they will dwell one day forever -- is a hospitable one, where they and their gifts are welcome and cherished. And until that day, here's a Pip-drawn picture of our prayer for them, one we hope each of them can own:

We CAN'T Be the Only Ones to Think of This

HOLLYWOOD, CA -- As the TV phenomenon American Idol enters the exciting countdown-to-the-winner phase of its sixth season, FOX network announced today an inevitable development: a spin-off, set to begin airing next winter. Evangelical Idol will search from coast to coast for America's next great worship leader.

"We're looking for people with a heart for God, who know how to bring worship to the next level," said Louie Giglio, recently hired by FOX to produce the show. "It's not enough to be a great vocalist. We're looking for star power--people who know when to close their eyes or raise their hands, when to make their voice break, when to modulate up a step. It takes the whole package to praise with passion and power week after week, to bring the Spirit of God in the house."

According to a FOX press release, the judges for the show have already been signed. With the Randy-Paula-Simon formula so crucial to the success of American Idol, it's no surprise that the three judges for Evangelical Idol correspond obviously to their secular counterparts.

In Randy Jackson's seat will be Texas musician David "Our Love is Loud" Crowder, who will bring industry savvy and gen-x grunge cred after years of experience in arena worship settings. Unlike Jackson, Crowder will be unlikely to call anyone "dogg." But according to show insiders, he could easily come out with "Dude, keeping it real... I just didn't feel the Spirit this time. It was just OK, a little pitchy in places. But here's what I love about you...."

Multi-platinum recording artist Amy Grant will bring to the judges' table wisdom (and modest sex appeal) culled from a bygone era of Christian music. Grant is expected, like Paula Abdul, to supply the quasi-maternal voice of compassion and encouragement. Grant blazed trails as a recording artist in the 1980s, raising the profile of the female evangelical artist with her crossover success. With the worship scene still dominated by male guitar messiahs, Grant is expected to help pass the mantle to the next generation of female trail blazers.

Filling perhaps the most difficult role--that of simultaneously beloved and loathed curmudgeon Simon Cowell--will be former Christianity Today columnist Andy Crouch.

"Andy is perfect for this role," stated a FOX network spokesperson. "He has tough objectivity, authoritative manliness, the ability to deliver the prophetic truth. After all, he's not only going to have to tell people they can't sing. He's going to have to tell them that, no, God is NOT calling them to worship leadership. But Andy's got the other half of the Cowell equation, too: the powder-puff heart deep inside."

Crouch will not be leaving his current post as director of the evangelical think tank Culture Makers. When asked about his new role on the show, Crouch stated, "How can I get closer to the heart of culture-making than this? This is where it happens, baby. The worship leaders of today will create the culture of tomorrow."

Crouch also admitted to brushing up his personal image for the show. "I'm scheduled to be fitted next month for tight, black T-shirts. Actually, I think I look pretty good in them."

The network announced an ambitious audition schedule beginning next fall. The crew will hold auditions on megachurch campuses in ten cities across the country, including South Barrington, IL; Colorado Springs, CO; Houston, TX; Lake Forest, CA; Fort Lauderdale, FL; Nashville, TN; and Grand Rapids, MI.

The show's producers also made public a list of potential themes for the last weeks of competition, when competitors will have to lead the studio band in worship songs of their choice from categories such as "Substitutionary Atonement," "Hymn 2.0" (rocked-out versions of traditional hymns), "Christmas Covers," and "X-treme Intimacy with Jesus."

Special guests already signed for the first season to work with the competitors include Worship Leader Magazine editor Chuck Fromm, British songwriter Matt Redman, Down-Under worship diva Darlene Zschech, former members of the Christian metal band Stryper, and professional Christian opinion-giver and bow-tie wearer Martin Marty.

While initial plans had the show airing in the cable ghetto of TBN (Trinity Broadcasting Network) a chance meeting at a Burbank, California, AYSO soccer game got FOX people involved.

"FOX is already hip to the mighty spending power of evangelicals. Given our past success with the conservative demographic, we immediately saw the opportunity here," said a FOX network executive, who asked to remain anonymous.

"If the show catches on, we're looking at great potential for brand extension. Preliminary talks are already underway for a Liturgical Dancing with the Stars. We've approached Fuller Theological Seminary President Rich Mouw as host."

CAVEAT: This is a joke, OK? Just for laughs. Call off the lawyers. Thanks.

West Michigan piety

Now that we are back in West Michigan, we need to make many cultural adjustments, including to our personal piety. Out in California, expressing one's faith meant putting on a Hawaiian shirt, driving the SUV to the megachurch, and raising one's hands in praise to the amplified beat of the praise band.* Life was good, we had God to thank for it, and Jesus was our super-cool friend, kind of like a surfing buddy. But back in Michigan, we have to remember the truth: faith is about suffering.

No, actually, all of this is a caricature. California isn't all surfing and praise, and neither is Michigan all deprivation and depravity. In fact, we've been thrilled to be back at our old church, singing in harmony with our full-voiced congregation and enjoying the communion of the saints with old friends and family. God is good here, too. Overwhelmingly good.

Anyway, there's still enough truth in the following send-up of the old "Footprints in the Sand" poem to make it funny. Thanks to Marilyn Rottman of the Calvin Seminars in Christian Scholarship office for passing this along to me.


Footprints In The Snow

One night I had a dream.
I dreamed I was walking along the snow-covered beach of Lake Michigan.
As I looked back at the trail my feet left in the snow,
I saw my life clearly marked along my trek.

At all the high points of my life - when I made the church consistory,
when I completed my Precious Moments collection,
when my son chose Calvin over Dordt -
I noticed there was but one set of footprints dotting the frozen landscape.

But, at the low points - when our church had a series of seminarians for
seven months because no one would accept a call to Hudsonville,
when Zondervan’s sold out of my favorite Sandi Patti tape,
when my car broke down on Sunday in Holland, Michigan -
There were two sets of heavy footprints, marring the pristine flakes of the trail.

Puzzled, I cried to the Lord -
“Lord! Why this inconsistency?”

Suddenly, a cloud above the Grand Haven beach parted,
and John Calvin appeared in a single shaft of light.
“My child,” he said, “God sent me as your guardian theologian, to guide you
along life’s rugged pathways. When the burdens of the world plagued you,
when life’s heavy burden was almost too much to bear,
I was there beside you, holding your hand,
and whispering catechism quotations in your ear.

But, when you seemed to be enjoying yourself,
when happiness was the emotion in your soul,
it was then that I jumped on your back and made you feel guilty for having a
good time.

Remember, my precious worm,
fun is not an option for you.”

I awoke in a cold sweat, glad to know Truth.

Published in the April 8, 1991 edition of The Banter

*Yes, the ambiguous grammatical order of this sentence is intentional.

Aiding the Forces of Evil

When we got sick of mysteries (see last post), we also listened to the Prairie Home Companion joke show, which aired just after the 2004 election. Keillor's bitterness was, shall we say, palpable, but it led to a lot of great jokes.

Here's the one Miriam and Jacob adopted as their favorite. Even if you have Republican leanings, you'll have to admit this is funny:

How many Bush administration officials does it take to change a light bulb?

None. There is no reason to change anything. We made the right decision to stick with that bulb. Those who say "it was burned out" are aiding the forces of evil!

Of course, this got adapted to fit any situation on the road. To wit:

Dad: "Miriam, are you going to wear those shoes?"
Mia: "There is no reason for me to change my shoes. I made the right decision to pick these shoes. Those who say they are "impractical" are aiding the forces of evil."
Dad: (sigh).

This moment in SoCal Composite Culture brought to you by Sun Valley

Just around the corner from our house there is a little strip mall, which includes a small "Donut Inn." The thing is, it only sells donuts in the morning. The rest of the day and into the evening it's a Taqueria, selling tamales and other south-of-the-border food. Lately, business has not been good, I'm guessing. Maybe it's got something to do with the imagined menu: hot chili eclairs and sugar-glazed enchiladas. So not long ago, to drum up business, the Donut Inn procured a fellow we've nicknamed Luigi, obviously a veteran of the brutal Pizza Wars. He's a plasticine advertising gimmick which they put out on the curb every morning to entice people into the restaurant.
You can almost hear him, can't you: "Hola! You a-gonna have-a the burrito con refritos?"

Fifth-Grade Fears

We went to Jacob's fifth grade Open House this week. Along with the art projects and science experiments and US state reports, each member of his class was required to display a personal profile, which included informative lists such as "things I like," "my favorite foods," and "what I'm scared of." Turns out that fifth grade boys are afraid of some pretty typical things: bad grades, car crashes, the boogie man, and so on. The girls have similar anxieties, but they're more willing to include creaturely horrors; we saw lots of references to spiders and snakes. Most interestingly -- or humorously, given the emphasis the school puts on spelling -- we learned that within this community of very evangelical Christians, a fair number of Jacob's 10 year old female classmates are terrified "Satin." That's right, Satin.

We decided the little gals probably meant that they were afraid of... you know, Lucifer -- the Tempter, the Enemy, head boss of Moloch, Mammon, and Mulciber, the Prince of Darkness.

But I admit, bridesmaid's dresses are pretty scary, too.

(Can't tell if this one is the product of Satin himself or one of his nefarious minions, Taffeta and Crinoline.)

"The best way to drive out the devil, if he will not yield to texts of Scripture, is to jeer and flout him, for he cannot bear scorn." - Martin Luther

Grad student humor

Wiki-Advertising

In a creative new campaign, the good people at General Motors are pioneering wiki-advertising. Ordinary web-surfing shlubs -- like you or me -- can pretend to be Madison Avenue creative types, creating commercials for the gas-guzzling SUV, the Tahoe. You get to choose backgrounds, video shots, music, and then input text. It's a contest, as you might expect, with big prizes for the best entries.

Of course, the internet being what it is, there might be a snarky subversive or two out there who have put together ads that don't exactly put the Tahoe in the best light.