Totally Unspiritual Post of the Week, #6

I consider myself someone who revels in pranks. Pranks (that don't harm anyone... permanently) appeal to that rebel-without-a-cause in all of us, and can be great for building rapport with friends and or getting fired or incarcerated. Pranks are also very biblical - they're everywhere in scriptures. For example, when God made the animals, the Chihuahua was a prank - unfortunately, this was omitted by a careless Judean scribe, which is why no one in Malibu understands their dog is a cosmic joke. Jesus probably loved pranks, which is why there are stories about him making fig trees shrivel up, rubbing mud in people's eyes, and inventing the whoopie cusion. Some of the pranks I have personally played a part in include:

The Road-Block: I don't recommend this, but I like to think it was before I got to college and learned how to be responsible. Mainly perpetrated with a high-school friend, Mike Kirsch, this involved collecting parking cones, caution tape, and detour signs from construction sites, and (around 3 or 4 a.m.) blocking off El Toro Road (one of the "main" roads in Lake Forest where I went to High School) without any obvious detours. We would try to do this in a stretch of road where there was a median and no place to turn around. Usually, we would find a place to park nearby to watch what people would do. We also discovered that parking cones, when run over, will drag themselves under the car, and then right themselves when you back-up. How convenient!

Balancing Mattress: In our residence halls, I figured out that mattresses were supported by 3 or 4 slats of wood. The slats could be removed, however, and the mattress could be carefully balanced on the lip of the bed frame, giving the appearance of everything being normal - until you sat on the bed, which is when you would fall through the frame on to the floor, or bunk-bed beneath you.

The Small-Timer: These were little, fun pranks. Usually, they involved my two college friends, Chuck Engelmann and Greg Campbell, who were both RA's, and, as such, often left their room door open and unattended. This was convenient for sneaking into their rooms whenever I had a particularly large poo to get rid of (and not flushing it), or writing things like "I love sweaty Asian boys" on their laptop screen-savers or bathroom mirrors. With Chuck being an avid journaler, it also included writing some type of significant confession (like a particular fondness for Asian boys) on some page in the middle of his journal.

The Fish Fan: At some point, some people I lived with in the residence halls at college tried to "prank me" by stapling a piece of fish underneath the couch in my suite. After a day or two, I noticed our usual suite smell of rotten cabbage had taken on the distinct odor of decomposing fish, and discovered their plan. Somehow, the fish was taken to the perpetrators bathroom, and after unscrewing the heat fan/lamp above the shower, left inside to continue a cycle of re-heating, rotting, and blowing said smell down into their bathroom.

The Diploma Swap: Have you ever noticed that few people really pay attention to those diplomas hanging on your wall? Sure, they might see the university name, but other than that, it's just a bunch of "herewiths" and "theretofores." That's why it can be really fun to scan a friend's diploma, change a few minor details, re-hang it in the frame, and see how long it takes them to notice it. It's also fun to occasionally send people into the office to look at it while they are there, and say things like, "Oh, so you graduated from Azusa Pacific I see...". This took Michael Houston, a coworker of mine, several weeks to notice- and it was only because someone started snickering when I had sent them in. Click the image to enlarge it.


The Dixie-Cup: This prank was performed with Jessie Price, a friend from Pepperdine. He was dating a girl at the time that lived in some apartments off campus, and whom he was engaged in a prank-war with. They had started with small stuff, and at some point it escalated to things like him breaking into her house and removing absolutely every edible item (which was then donated in the church foodbank), and finally her removing the wheels from his car and placing it on cinder blocks while he was in church. In retaliation for the latter, Jesse managed to get a copy of her apartment key without her knowledge, and over the course of time, befriended the guard at the gate to her apartment complex.

One night, when his girlfriend was scheduled to be at a concert until 4 am, we went to Ralph’s and purchased 3,000 mini Dixie cups (no exaggeration). We then were waved through the gate by Jesse's guard-friend, got into her apartment, and proceeded to stack every piece of furniture against the far wall. In the back, bottom corner, we were careful to leave the stereo system plugged in, with a "Village People" album inside the cd tray. This was a complex operation, and involved accessing detailed architectural designs for the building, and mapping out every aspect of the operation. (click it to enlarge):



Over the course of the next 4-5 hours, we carefully placed each of the Dixie cups on the floor between the front door and all of the furniture. Each cup was filled with water, and stapled to the cups surrounding it. Just enough room was left to open the front door to the apartment; otherwise, every inch of the floor had a Dixie cup on it.

Before leaving, we used the remote to turn on the buried stereo, and left "YMCA" on repeat.

I'd be interested to hear of some other pranks people have partaken in. There is a certain comradery to be had in sharing these stories and triumphs of devious creativity.

**Disclaimer: This post was inspired after stumbling across the story of a particularly elaborate prank involving an e-bayer who was fraudulently trying to purchase an iMac Powerbook through a scam escrow service. With the help of the internet, donations, and a network of people across the globe, this crook was put in his place many, many times over. Love it!

Pass on the Pastor

In my web-wanderings, I came across an absolutely fantastic article on Pastors. I've often wondered how the transition from the "upper-room" to "Saddleback Community Church" took place historically. What were the key points that took the church from being a relatively organic, messy, heretically-proned movement to the established Roman Catholic Church, to the "reformed" Protestant church? I knew that it obviously happened gradually, but seriously; If we stepped into a gathering of believers in mid-first century, how would it have been different - and would we have ever met "the Pastor" at the door as we left the building? Would he have been at the lox-n-bagel potluck afterward? Well, this artivle provides a very good overview of the journey that brought us from there to here, and has some extremely provoking points to make.

Some nuggets that were particularly interesting:

"The word 'Pastors' does appear in the NT: 'And he gave some as apostles, and some as prophets, and some as evangelists, and some as PASTORS and teachers (Ephesians 4:11, NASB).' ... This is the only verse in the NT where the word “Pastor” is used.[3] One solitary verse is a mighty scanty piece of evidence on which to hang the entire Protestant faith! In this regard, there is more Biblical authority for snake handling than there is for the modern Pastor. (Mark 16:18 and Acts 28:3-6 both mention handling snakes. So snake handling wins out two verses to one verse.)"
...
"If the modern Pastor was absent from the early church, where did he come from? And how did he rise to such a prominent position in the Christian faith? It is a painful tale, the roots of which are tangled and complex. Those roots reach as far back as the fall of man. With the fall came an implicit desire in man to have a physical leader to bring him to God. For this reason, human societies throughout history have consistently created a special spiritual caste of religious icons. The medicine man, the shaman, the rhapsodist, the miracle worker, the witch-doctor, the soothsayer, the wise-man, and the priest have all been with us since Adam’s blunder."
...
"At the time of this writing, there are reportedly more than 500,000 Pastors serving churches in the U.S. Of this mass number, consider the following statistics that lay bare the lethal danger of the pastoral office:

* 94% feel pressured to have an ideal family.

* 90% work more than 46 hours a week.

* 81% say they have insufficient time with their spouses.

* 80% believe that pastoral ministry affects their family negatively.

* 70% do not have someone they consider a close friend.

* 70% have lower self-esteem than when they entered the ministry.

* 50% feel unable to meet the needs of the job.

* 80% are discouraged or deal with depression.

* 40%+ report that they are suffering from burnout, frantic schedules, and unrealistic expectations.

* 33% consider pastoral ministry an outright hazard to the family.

* 33% have seriously considered leaving their position in the past year.

* 40% of pastoral resignations are due to burnout.

* Roughly 30% to 40% of religious leaders eventually drop out of the ministry and about 75% go through a period of stress so great that they seriously consider quitting.

* Most Pastors are expected to juggle 16 major tasks at once. And most crumble under the pressure. For this reason, 1,600 ministers in all denominations across the U.S. are fired or forced to resign each month. Over the past 20 years, the average length of a pastorate has declined from seven years to just over two years!"
...

Incidentally, all of the statistics and historical references are cited extensively (I believe there are 249 endnotes). It's lengthy, and, I'll warn you in advance - it certainly levels quite a salvo against the prevailing perception of the "Pastor" model. Much of the information in the article I already knew, some I did not. But it is nice for all of it to be in one central place.

I'd be especially interested in comments on this one, for those that take the time to read it.

Blessings to you all!

Read the full article here, "The Pastor: Where Did He Come From?"

The Confession

This post has been on my conscience for awhile now. It's time that I put this out there, because I feel that as long as I don't say it, I'm being dishonest with anyone who has seen this site. But it's not just me; there are a lot of men that need to publicly confess what I am about to confess. I know what you're thinking, but this time, it's not about my third nipple. I own an XBOX. I am a grown man, and I still play video games. This is my burden.

"I have long feared that my sins would come back to visit me and the cost is more than I can bear." We all know what Mel Gibson meant when he said these lines at the beginning of The Patriot. Mel, like most of us, started gaming when he was just a young lad. For me, it started with my friend's Nintendo when we lived in Nebraska. He even had the little robot that played along with us, and even though it only worked on one game (the original Mario Brothers?) its message was clear: by the time we were adults, we'd be marrying robot wives that would game along with us. My Dad was what I have learned in business school to call an "early adopter" when it came to computers; while most people were still getting over how cool it was to record a tape with a VCR, we had the original Macintosh at home. 10" of gorgeous black and white screen, and hours of fun with Mac Paint (woah, draw a circle again!). I discovered my first flight simulator (Falcon 4.0), the text-based Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, Crystal Quest, Return to Dark Castle, and The Space Quest Series while living in England. Final Fantasy III was Jr. High, Civilization II, James Bond, and NFL Blitz were college. Those were years of life, fun, and at least 13,000 deaths.

I have many adult male friends that, when prodded, will sheepishly reveal that they too, still like to game. It's like there is a secret society, and once it's discovered that you both know the handshake, you suddenly have a lot in common. Usually, it's first acknowledged as a no big deal. "Oh sure. I have an XBOX. That Halo 2 game seems pretty cool. Don't have much time to play it though. Work and all." Gradually, it becomes apparent that jobs, sleep, wives, food - everything is structured to support the closet habit. Yep - that nice, successful, accomplished guy you danced with at the wedding this weekend? He’s probably known as "DarkOverlordGonadMashr" online. This society is about as understood amongst women as the neuro-sciences are amongst single-celled organisms. They just don't understand why we enjoy spending our time interacting with a character on a screen, building an empire with enough "Legion" units to conquer the known universe, or shooting at one another online until the invisible in-game commentator unaffectedly groans, "KILLTACULAR."

And I struggle with whether it's something to be ashamed of, or just accepted as a totally ok recreational activity. I mean, I definitely do lots of other “productive” things, and it's not my main recreational activity. But then, how do I retain any dignity admitting that I had a blast this weekend playing game that involved sailing around as a pirate that I (jokingly) named "Capt. Fauntleroy?" Trust me - the game has everything that is fun and cool... pirates, ship battles, dueling, raids, plundering, even wooing the governor's daughter... it's awesome. But is that twinge of guilt from the indulgence to play merited or imposed?

I've come to conclude that it is imposed, and it's okay to enjoy playing these games in moderation, just like most other things (including time spent on this website, for example). This is evident in as much as right now, it's my little dark secret, but when I have kids, I'll be the coolest, most endearing dad around. "My dad can get a headshot on your dad. No seriously- he can. In Halo 5...". Frankly, it's a larger issue of freedom for me, spiritually speaking. If "that which is not done in faith is sin," I want to do it in faith and freedom. I want to be able to play a video game or enjoy a totally mindless action flick without feeling guilty for wasting time, because after all, it is for freedom's sake that Christ set us free. Freedom "just because" - not so we could fit someone's bill of what it means to be "productive." That's amazing. What is productive, anyway? I think it has to do with being thankful in all things, and looking for God in everything we're doing. Some might see that as a cop-out, but I think there is much to discover there. We live in a tyranny of "shoulds." I'd rather live with something closer to "holla!"

We web site people tend to put our best foot forward, which, for computer geeks, is often purple, furry, and tied to a keychain. We choose what content we want to post and what witty subjects we would like to write about. Oh sure, you might think it's easy to sit in our mansions overlooking the ocean, firing off blogs that are humorous, intelligent, moving, and full of incredibly interesting news stories or random links to sites that will captivate you for hours, but the reality is - we filter it all. We're not always witty people. Sometimes we're awfully boring or regular - and let me tell you, I am very regular after a mocha and a breakfast bowl of Kashi GoLean. We sometimes wake up just like the rest of the world, go to the bathroom, and then realize we're still dreaming and have just... oh come on - we've all done it. But what kind of fool would ever admit such a thing in a blog? Who would ever be so stupid as to reveal their secret bedwetting sins to the world?!?

I don't want to make generalizations here, because all people who do are idiots, but it can be a challenge for many, including myself, to write about those things we are not proud to trumpet to the world. I've just confessed a trait that is socially unflattering by many standards. I hope we all find the freedom from those standards today... especially if we're a pirate named Capt. Fauntleroy. Blessings, love, and if you ever run across “PariahRedeemed” on XBOX live... be afraid. Be very afraid. Then send me a friend request.

Lessons From My First Year Of Marriage

As promised earlier, I said I would write a blog to impart some of the wisdom I have carefully gathered from my first year of marriage. These are not generic axioms, mind you; these conclusions are the result of careful, scientific observation and the application of Newton's First Law of Motion, which states: "Husbands inherently seek to keep their office in a state of chaos, even under the pretense of 'cleaning' and 'organizing.'" This is not to be confused with Newton's Third Law of Motion, which, as you well know, states: "For every husband's fart, there is an equal and opposite fart in retaliation from the wife, although usually in secrecy and silence."

The fundamental premise of this blog is simple: marriage is good. This statement comes with several qualifiers, however:

1) Marriage is good when God is involved. This really goes without saying, because I'm not sure marriage would make any sense apart from Him. In a society and culture that relishes in individualism and doing what's best for #1, making a lifetime commitment to love someone - not only for who they are right now, but for who they will continually become or not become - doesn't seem very intuitive. It's been said that in this sense, marriage is like signing an blank contract that gets filled out as you go along. What hasn't been said before now is that the contract is with a septic tank cleaning service. If God's your maintenance man, you can trust He'll faithfully clean out the crap, and keep that puppy healthfully fertilizing a whole garden of flowers. If some guy named "Spuds" is your maintenance man, then you'll be swimming in your own stuff before you can say "poo-bath."

2) Marriage is good when married to the right person. Fortunately for me, I married the right person. Corrie is by all standards, smarter, better-looking, more athletic, and much better at reaching a zen-like state wherein she can become one with every task that needs to be done in the entire universe, at any given moment in the space-time continuum. I loved and respected Corrie before we were married. However, the best part of marriage for me so far has been the reality of coming to love and respect her even more in the last year. There are times when I will literally be taken aback at the way she can handle a situation with grace, diffuse one of my moods, and avoid sticky surfaces in the kitchen. You'll note, in the picture on the left, that all of these qualities can be observed: beauty, intelligence, athleticism, and a chipmunk-like ferocity in tackling life.

3) Marriage is good in that it is also like taking a cheese-grater to that thing we call "selfishness."

This 'lil guy stayed hidden in a closet for almost 10 years, and learned to defend himself from the Doberman-rats. Needless to say, he was a little "irritated" when he finally came out...

Ah... there is nothing so refreshing as watching those shavings of self-centered epidermis fly away with every realization that you are very blessed to have ended up with someone like your spouse. Selfishness tends to bury itself in a person like a small child playing hide-and go seek in a mansion. It waits and waits, and doesn't come out until you've finally determined it must not be hiding anymore, or that it starved to death and was eaten by Doberman-sized rats. Just when you go about your other business though, it leaps out of the closet, and makes up for its lost nap-times and cheese-crackers by systematically making your peaceful afternoon a tantrum-hell. It's amazing - it really is.

4) Marriage is good, but it is especially good when connected telepathically to the non-verbal feminine communications database, which is located in a secret bunker somewhere in Colorado. All women must go here to train in non-verbal communication skills at some point, which is why men are usually less than adept at picking up on their invisible signals, which are communicated at frequencies that most televisions and bats can pick up. Incidentally, is why I can often be seen wearing television antennae.

5) The answer to every question is simultaneously "yes," "no" and "simple green." No idea what that means, but ask any married guy, and he'll tell you it's very, very true.

Well, that's it. Overall, I give marriage an A+ for excitement, cool Holy-Spirit effects, meaningful emotional intimacy, and funny farting moments.