i hear rock & roll

My mom had surgery yesterday. She's doing good, but she's out of it. Drugs will do that to a person. Sometimes, when a person is on drugs, they do not have full use of their senses. Maybe they can't see straight. Sometimes the sense of taste disappears, especially when the sense of smell is out of whack. And sometimes, they just can't hear you. But when she comes off of the drugs, she'll be just fine. Just fine for her includes supersonic ears. She may not hear everything you say, but she will hear your rock music if you're playing it. She heard mine. And in honor of my mom, and her quick recovery, I will repost this story of her ears for rock and roll.


I am an emotional sleeper. I blow everything out of proportion when I am half asleep to all the way asleep. For instance, one time Sarah was doing laundry, and wanted my white undershirt for the white load. I had fallen asleep on the couch, so she had to wake me a little to get it from me. I squirmed and grunted, but I wouldn't give her the shirt. At one point, I sat up and turned my head right towards her. She thought I was giving her my shirt. Nay, nay. I had only sat up to move my head to the other side of the couch to get away from her. She tried again, and I really got agitated. I said very rudely to her, "LAY OFF ME, CHUMP STAINS!," but I was still sound asleep. I don't remember any of this; I only know what she told me. Oh, and I did eventually give her the shirt. Now I say all that to preface what I'm going to post. I'm sure my recollection of the story is blown way out of proportion, but I'm going to tell it how I remember it, cause it's way better than what is most likely the truth.

My parents were a little legalistic when I was younger. They're not now, but it was a long journey from where they were to where they are. They had no ill intentions. My mom grew up an orthodox Jew, and my dad a very unorthodox Catholic. Both had a good-works view of redemption. So they were easy marks for the Baptist legalist movement. It seemed natural enough, I'm sure. They were taught in church(es) what being a good Christian meant, and they afflicted...I mean instructed us on how this went. I've never had a problem with them, though, cause they were only trying to do what was right by God and us. They're awesome parents, and I knew the whole time they loved me. But that doesn't make some of the things they did any less funny...

Christian rock was a big no-no in our house. My brother Steve had wandered from God, and yes, music did play a roll, but my mom had a misunderstanding of how this worked. She thought Christian rock was a stepping stone to "bad rock," when in reality, the Christian rock of Steve's teen years just sucked. If he wanted to listen to good music, it would have had to be secular. Still, rock and roll became the devil's #1 tool, Christian or otherwise, as far as she was concerned (and many of her church cohorts, too). This led to one of the funniest moments in my life, which is, as mentioned, probably exaggerated.

I had a friend that gave me the Newsboys' "Not Ashamed" tape, because he didn't like it. I wasn't supposed to have it, but I wanted it anyway. I listened to it on my little black tape player when I was going to sleep at night. One night, however, my tape player fell down next to my bed and next to a heat register, taking the sounds right up into my parents' room. Here I am asleep, and all of a sudden, the door flies open as though my mom had kicked it open. She threw on the lights and fumed "I HEAR ROCK AND ROLL!" I was half asleep at this point. I had no idea what she was talking about. I mumbled the word what, and she rabidly repeated those five words again. Sorry I had asked. "WHERE IS IT?!?" I finally realized what she was talking about and reached for my tape player. I took out the tape and sheepishly said, "It's Christian,"...like she cared. With fervor and unbelievable speed, she ripped the whole tape from cassette. It was almost cartoon like. Her arms were flailing all over the place, and the tape was soaring like streamers at a New Years party. And I swear, I can remember her taking that little cassette and snapping with her hands, like it was a pencil, like it was nothing. I've never been more afraid of my mom in my whole life. Fortunately, I cannot stay up long if awoken from deep sleep like that, so I quickly got over my mom's intimidating display and fell fast asleep.
But I never forgot it, and now, maybe you won't either. As a side note, I have a ton of Christian rock CDs in my collection now, but guess which CD I could never bring myself to buy: Newsboys' "Not Ashamed." That album scares the crap out of me.

being right

My dad never had a birds and the bees talk with me.  I was kind of worried the night before my marriage when he said he wanted to talk to me about something.  I thought, "Really, Dad?  We're going to do this now?"  But he didn't want to talk about pollination of any sort.  He wanted to talk to me about being right.  He said, "Jeff, I've been married for 32 years, and I've never won a fight, but I'm happy.  You can be right, or you can be happy.  It's your choice."  I think he told me that, because up until that point, I always had to be right.  It drove my parents crazy.  Not only did I have to be right, but I also had to have the last word.  He was worried I was going to push Sarah too far with my obstinate behavior.  It didn't take me long to realize that he was right, and I needed to stop pushing to be.

I cannot change whether I was right yesterday or not; I can only affect whether I will be right tomorrow.  I want to be right tomorrow.  I am much more welcoming of constructive criticism than I used to be, because I want to be better the next time I have to make a decision.  I used to take it as a personal attack every time.  Now I can recognize when it is actually constructive criticism.  I can also recognize when you're just insulting me and calling it constructive criticism.  People that are fairly obvious, and although I will rarely tell you that I know what you're doing, I know.  But still, after I'm through being really, really annoyed with you, I will try to find construction in your insults.

Having to be right caused me to talk over you.  Wanting to be right tomorrow forces me to listen more.

Having to be right made me judgmental towards opposing views.  Wanting to be right tomorrow makes me more critical of myself (in the healthy sort of way).

Having to be right led me to always having the last word.  Wanting to be right gives me a chance to give you the last word, right after I say thank you.

Having to be right informs the person you're talking to that you feel superior to them.  Wanting to be right lets them know that you respect them intellectually, and they may just be smarter than you.

we're adopted

We started talking about prayer last night.  I think it's important to establish the relationship between God and His children before talking about how to talk to God.  So that's what I did, because I try to do what I think is important.

In Galatians 4, Paul talks about how we were living like slaves before we had Christ, but once we have Him, we receive the adoption of sons.  This is a reference to the tradition that a young man would be raised by a family servant, who was to teach him the things he needed to know.  At a time appointed by the father, the boy would be "adopted," and receive full rights as the son and heir of his father's estate.  But even while he lived as a servant, it was the father's intention that he would be accepted as a son at some point.

God has created everyone with the intention that they would become His son or daughter.  That doesn't mean that everyone does become one, but it is His aim that our schoolmaster - the Law - would lead us to the point in life where we can receive the adoption of a son, which is when we place our faith in Christ.

Once we have Christ in our lives, we have access to God, and because of our adoption, we get to call Him, "Abba Father."  That, of course, is the equivalent of calling Him, "Daddy."  As God's children, we are welcome and expected to approach Him like we would approach an earthly father: personally, intimately, and relationally.  When I call my dad on the phone, I don't start out trying to impress Him.  I just call him and tell him what's on my mind.  God wants us to come after Him the same way, sharing our heart, and understanding that He is our Dad and wants to listen.

spotting a youth pastor at a concert

I had the pleasure of taking some of our students to see Disciple, Decyfer Down, and Satellites and Sirens last night.  When we got there, I immediately noticed that other youth pastors had the opportunity to bring their students, too.  I saw them right away.  We're not hard to find at Christian concerts.  We stand out like worship leaders at a pastor's conference.  I don't think we stick out like sore thumbs.  When was the last time you noticed a sore thumb on a stranger?  No, we are more obvious than that.  We have patterns.  We have habits.  And these are some of those habits, and why I think they happen:

• Wear a Christian t-shirt to the show.  It's a lot like wearing a Red Wings jersey to the Joe.  It says, "Hey, they're on Team Jesus, and that's my favorite team!"


• Mix it up with a band t-shirt, but rarely one from the bands on stage, and definitely not from a band that rocks out with their socks out  It conveys to the students that you're cool and into music, just like them.  "Disciple's rocking the stage?  Neat!  I got this Third Day shirt when I was a teenager.  I'll wear that."  You have to have seen this numerous times.


• Whatever form of Christian t-shirt you wear, make sure it is tucked in.  The tucked in t-shirt is like the mullet of midsection wear: it's a little formal, but it's ready to party.  Employing the tucked in t-shirt shows that you aren't too stuffy to get casual, but it also puts the braided leather belt on display, which is like saying, "I may be wearing a t-shirt, but I'm still in charge here."


• Blind everyone with your camera.  I'm definitely guilty of this, as my coming soon facebook photo album will show.  You've got to chronicle the event.  Plus, having lots of pictures lets the parents, deacons, and your boss know that you weren't there just to have fun.  You were practically too busy to have fun.


• Dance.  Rhythm optional.  If you dance to the music, the students will know that you are enjoying yourself, which means you'll have something in common with them.  It's also a good way to burn calories, and this might be the only chance you get to do so this week.


• Maintain eagle-eye focus on anyone that looks like they could possibly be a teenager that is holding hands, even if they are not from your group.  Blue is good.  Pink is good.  Purple is bad.  How can you possibly look at the stage when you have to be on the look out?  Where is their youth pastor?  He's probably in the back dancing with his shirt tucked in.  Amateur.


• Walk around like you own the place.  We're probably all Christians there, which means we're all working for God.  Being a pastor makes you senior management, so watch out event security, I'm getting this picture.  Remember, I have to show people I was working, too.

I committed to myself, my wife, and my future youth group a long time ago that I would never be found at a Christian concert with a tucked-in Christian t-shirt or dancing an off beat pedestrian dance.  But that doesn't mean I don't display my youth pastor's nature in other ways.

Have you ever noticed a youth pastor at a concert and just known he/she was a youth pastor?  What made them so obvious to you?

i guess the joke's on me

On August 17, 2001, I married Sarah. My life is so much better for that moment. Sarah's is at least much more interesting. The day before, I did not have a bachelor party. I had no interest. The typical activities associated with a bachelor party are reserved for husbands-to-be that still love themselves more than they love their wives-to-be, even on the eve of their marriage, and don't even attempt to correct or conceal that. Now, I could have done something else as an alternative type party, but I still had no interest. I just wanted to hang out with my best friend. I figured I wouldn't be spending as much time with him in the near future.

There were obviously things to do the day before the wedding that pertained to the wedding itself, details that could not be overlooked or ignored. So we were at the church in the morning handling business. Then we went to lunch at the McDonald's next door to the church. While we were in waiting for our food - a process that could take up to 10 minutes when no one else was there at this particular McDonald's - I said to Josh, "You know, I think it's really unfair that a lot of women get married and then gain a lot of weight.  You know what I'm going to do? I'm going to gain weight starting tomorrow. I'm going to turn it around on them." This, of course, is an offensive and stupid thing to say, therefore it was pretty typical of teenage me to say it. The girl that was getting our food did not think it was as funny as Josh did. She gave me quite a dirty look. I guess she didn't know I was joking.

She'd probably think the joke is funny now, because sadly, the joke's on me. I thought I was kidding when I said it, but apparently I was just prophesying.

Rebel Life wrap up, Jesus, and a new series

Tonight, we wrapped up the Rebel Life series.  I admitted that I always wanted to be cool, and I used to feverishly pursue that.  I talked about Jesus, and how He gave up status, power, and possessions, as opposed to making it His life's purpose to pursue those things.  He didn't go after the things we tend to go after.  He was the ultimate Rebel.  Lecrae put it best when he said, "Jesus was a rebel, a renegade, outlaw, a sanctified troublemaker, but He never sinned, naw.  He lived His life by a different set of rules.  The culture ain't approve..."

To follow after Jesus is to rebel against our sinful culture.  Here's a recap of what we were rebelling against, and who in the Bible set a good example:

Rebel against peer pressure (Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah, in the fiery furnace)

Rebel against sexual immorality and society's expectation that everyone's doing it (Joseph, as he resisted Potiphar's wife)

Rebel against the fear of sharing and the notion that we shouldn't talk about God (Elijah vs the 450 prophets of Baal)

Rebel against the pursuit of status (Jesus, Philippians 2:5-8).

We starting a series on prayer next week.  It's called, "Hey, God."  here's the video promo for it, starring my nephew, Matt.

[vimeo http://vimeo.com/10967792]

peanuts flash mob

According to Wikipedia, "A flash mob (or flashmob)is a large group of people who assemble suddenly in a public place perform an unusual and pointless act for a brief time, then quickly disperse."

Last night, our youth group assembled suddenly at the Cross Roads Mall, in Portage Michigan, and unusually performed the dance scene from the Peanuts Christmas special.  We first assembled over in the food court, and talked about our game plan.  Then we went over look at the location of our dance.  The students dispersed to various areas around our dance scene and waited for their cue.  Here's what happened:

[vimeo http://vimeo.com/10993680]

We had so much fun, that we decided to do it one more time.  We headed back to the food court and did it again.  Security showed up at the food court as we finished.  They didn't look angry, but rather inquisitive.  I think they were just making their rounds.

Oh, and WWMT, channel 3 news in Kalamazoo will be showing a clip of our flash mob tonight on the news.  Make sure you watch!

what I learned from my dad

I can't tell you everything I learned from my dad, for a few reasons: first of all, I don't want to write a post that long, and you wouldn't want to read it; secondly, I have probably forgotten a lot of it; and third, and perhaps most importantly, I don't want to tag this post as adult rated material. But here is a glimpse at the things I am willing to share with you:

• Being mature doesn't mean being boring and not having fun.


• It's okay to pick on Lisa until Mom gets home.


• My mom was his wife first, and if we disrespected her, we'd answer to him.


• There isn't a good enough reason to get into a fight in school...unless someone was making fun of Mom, in which case, he would be disappointed if we didn't fight for her.


• It's okay to laugh at your child's mischief and then deny approving of it later when answering to a higher authority (Mom).


• His family was more important than anyone else's family. As a result, if you messed with us, he messed with you.


• The same guy can be a goofball and a romantic, but rarely at the same time.


• Humor is a great teaching tool.


• Blacks socks with brown sandals go well with shorts...very short shorts.

That is just a small sample.  Hopefully I can pass all of this wisdom - and the wisdom I could not share - onto Jakob.

fearing my calling wasn't real

Being called into ministry is one of the greatest things that has happened in my life. Not everyone can say that they get paid to do what they want. If I inherited enough money that I never had to work again, I'd still be the youth and children's pastor at KCC. I'd just be pro bono. So if you're looking for a way to bless KCC financially, maybe you would consider giving me millions of dollars.

At different times throughout my very early teen years, I thought that maybe I should go into ministry before God ever called me, because it was kind of trendy in our youth group - it would increase my status - but since God never said anything, I let it go.  I still remember when I first heard God telling me that He did, in fact, want me in His employ.     I remember our conversation well. Initially, I wasn't into the idea of taking a youth pastor's salary, because I had my heart set on being a successful, wealthy lawyer.  Once I accepted that He wanted me to be a youth pastor, I began to get nervous. I wasn't nervous about any of the hardships I would experience if I made it to the pastorate, though.  I was a young teenager and had no idea that I should be expecting that, anyway. I was nervous about never making it. I wanted to see if my calling would dissipate like a fart on a windy day, or if it had staying power.

I had noticed an odd occurrence in others' lives: God called a lot of people in my youth group to ministry, but He always changed His mind when they got to college, so I thought it was a real possibility that this could happen to me. So even though I was mostly convinced it was God that had told me to be a youth pastor, I stayed silent.  I didn't want to go in front of the church and admit what I was thinking.  I didn't want to be applauded and turned into a rock star for a day.  Wait, I would have been a southern Gospel star for the day, because I would have been popularly received.  I really didn't want to come home from college with a new major and hear, "What happened?  I thought God called you into ministry."  So it took me over a year to tell anyone other than my parents.  I think my pastor knew I wanted to go into ministry, anyway.  I'm sure my dad told him, because he's a proud dad.

I wish I had never been afraid of my calling.  I wish I could have felt free to tell everyone.  I wish I would have known God's voice well enough to never doubt it was Him.  But I have never wished for my chance to go back and go in front of the church.

*This post has been inspired by my reading of Hear No Evil, by Matthew Paul Turner.

happy good friday on monday

I was blessed to have the opportunity to preach in big church on Friday for our Good Friday service.  One thing that I was most excited - and perhaps most nervous - about is that my family was able to come.  Our families saw every sermon I preached at New Hope, but they saw all of them online.  I've only preached in front of my dad one time, and to be honest, it makes me nervous to do so.  Most of what I know of the Bible, I learned from him.  That makes me his student, and to quote Charlie Bucket's teacher, "...for a student to teach his teacher is presumptuous and rude."  And he said it in a British accent, so I'm pretty sure he knew what he was talking about.

When I preached at New Hope, I started posting my sermons out of family pressure.  They wanted to see them, and I'd rather put them online than mail 5 DVDs.  I thought I was done, but alas, due to medical conflicts, not everyone from our families was able to make it.  My nephew Gabriel was not well, which meant my sister Lisa and her husband Mike had to stay home.  Sarah's dad had to go to the eye doctor for trouble he's been having, and he wasn't allowed to drive after the visit.  And then there's Dan, who's afflicted with living in Texas.  Poor guy.

The couple that is singing is Todd and Amanda Gallahar.  They're awesome.  The lady at the beginning reading the Bible is Brenda - also awesome - and the fat guy in the middle is me.  What?  You don't think I'm awesome?  Well, then, explain to me how I became an admin of the Super-Duper-Awesome-People-Club on facebook.

I'm blessed to serve where I serve, and to serve alongside the people that I do.

[vimeo http://vimeo.com/10676005]

For Easter, we decided to start a tradition of just spending time with our little family. Thanksgiving and Christmas are very busy holidays for us, running to Grand Rapids and back a couple times each. We love that, but we thought it would be nice to claim one holiday as a day for just us and Jakob. So, we went to a park for lunch, took a long afternoon nap, and ate a late dinner out together. Maybe we'll be sure to be in GR the day before Easter, like we were yesterday. That seemed to work.

Happy Easters.