10 Things No One Tells You About Being a Dad

Before I became a Dad, I thought I would be a pretty good Dad.  After all, I grew up in a nice, Christian home.  I even read a couple Fatherhood books, and heard more than a few messages on Biblical parenting.  So I was set.  The children I would raise would be fortunate to have me as their father.

Then, a funny thing happened.  In 2009, I actually became a Dad for the first time.  First came Abagail, then Emma in 2012.  Now I'm a father of two and I know much less about parenting than I did before I became a parent.  I've realized that there are certain things about fatherhood you can only learn when you actually become a Dad.

Here are ten:

1) You are much less patient than you think you are.  Oh, you think you're a loving, patient, sweet peach of a man.  You'll be the guy playing dress-up for hours and carefully instructing your daughter how to ride her bike.  You'll never get short with your children and you'll always know the perfect balance between discipline and love.  Right.  Keep dreaming, my friend.  There's nothing like a live child in your midst to bring out your selfishness, anger and impatience.

2)  Many times you'll have absolutely no clue what to do.  But you still have to pretend you are in control.  Like when your three-year-old melts down in the grocery store.  The books say to do one thing, but there is always a certain paralysis that takes place when it's your little one kicking, screaming and not getting along with the shopping program.  Over time, you'll figure out your child and the best method, but there will be a lot of trial and error along the way.  Mostly error.

3)  You'll realize that minivans are secretly awesome.  Before I ever had children, before I was ever even married, I swore to my best friend on a stack of John Wayne collector's edition DVD's that I would never be seen behind the wheel of a minivan.  I have more than one childhood memory of the six of us stuffed like sardines in my family's used tan Plymouth Voyager.  Then we had our second child and I suddenly saw the awesomeness of minivans.  As stated above, I now have two children and our Mazda 5 just keeps getting cooler.  So cool, in fact, that it's not a minivan anymore.  I have re-christened it the Swagger Wagon.  You can go for long trips and play DVDs.  You can fold the third row seating down to be able to haul large pieces of furniture that your wife finds listed on Craigslist that she thinks you need.  Trust me on this one.  As soon as child #2 comes, you'll find yourself wandering over to CarMax.com to compare the best prices on minivans.

4)  You'll probably never get six continuous hours of good sleep ever again.  And even if you do, you'll never admit it because it will make your wife mad for the broken-up sleep she got when she got up at 1AM to take care of the teething child.  Dads perfect the art of pretending like they are stone-cold sleepers who can't be easily woken.  But really you're just trying to keep your eyes closed long enough so she'll get up and take care of the situation.

5)  There are singular moments of joy so indescribable they can only be experienced.  There are moments of pride and joy that make every single hard-parenting experience seem easy.  There are times of closeness and love that will make your heart burst with rapture.  Sometimes I just sit back and look at my two children and cannot believe God allowed me to be their Dad.  If you're a Dad, you already know what I mean.

6) Your presence is more important than you know.  You may not think you're a good Dad.  You may not think you're all that useful around the house.  But your children need your presence more than you could possibly realize.  God wove fatherhood into the fabric of humanity.  Your consistency and your faithfulness to your wife and to your children will speak volumes to your children about the consistency and faithfulness of their Heavenly Father.

7)  You need to repeat the same words over and over again to your children.  It's not enough to just provide and to be present.  It's not enough to be a model Christian.  Your children must hear over and over again how much you love and accept them.  I try every single day to tell each one of my children that I love them.  There have been times (as recently as this morning) where I've flippantly said something to my oldest daughter and it completely crushed her feelings.  I've had to apologize and seek her forgiveness, and that of my wife as well.  My words matter.  Our words matter.

8)  You will watch less of your favorite shows or movies, play less video games, and will go out with your guy friends hardly ever, if at all.  But this is a good thing.  You are called to serve your family sacrificially.  This often means putting your selfish desires last.  This means not whining.  This means being strong when you want to be tired.  This means being soothing rather than sarcastic.  This means being the brave one when everyone else is terrified.  But if you see your family as your God-given mission, you will gladly give up these things for something better.  Your sacrifice and your presence are not options.  They are callings.

9)  You will embrace your paternal cluelessness as a gift from God.  The further I go into my fatherhood, the more I realize I need help being a good Dad.  I really don't have what it takes.  This is where I lean in, heavily, on my Heavenly Father.  The sooner we realize, as Dads, that we don't have what it takes to succeed, the sooner we'll seek God's help, both through His Word as well as from earthly fathers who can lend wisdom.  I've learned much from the small group I'm blessed to be involved in.  I've learned much from other more seasoned Dads in my church.  I've learned a lot from older Dads who've gone before.

10)  You will realize your ongoing need to repent, confess, apologize and forgive.  You will mess up, almost daily.  And so you will need to admit to your wife and to your children your mistakes and ask their forgiveness.  You will learn the underrated value of an apology, how quickly it earns you respect and attention.  You will have to forgive your children for their sins.  You will need to practice these as well with your wife.  In doing so, you will model to your children what the Christian life looks like.  It's not a life of perfection, but of brokenness, surrender and grace.

Jeff Carson Books: Dire (David Wolf Book 8) Cover Vote

Jeff Carson Books: Dire (David Wolf Book 8) Cover Vote: Thanks for your help. Here are the two versions of the book I am considering. Please let me know which one you like best in the comments bel...



Definitely Cover #2! Blends into the background, adding to the "Dire" consequences of whatever's coming!

Review of "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre" (2003)

Surprisingly Good Remake

The horror/sci-fi movie critic Richard Scheib coined the term "Backwoods Brutality" to describe the slew of low-budget movies that emerged in the late 1970's which had as their main theme the violent and abrupt destruction of middle-class serenity. The concept has occasionally found expression outside of the horror genre (see Straw Dogs, Deliverance) but since Wes Craven's "Last House on the Left" (1972), it has been a mainstay of the horror genre. Even thirty years later, the basic idea continues to be remade and re-interpreted.

I believe the original Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974) is the most successful exponent of the genre. As it often does in the American variations of this genre, the TCM takes the so-called blue state/red state dichotomy to a grotesque extreme:  the backroads of the Deep South are another country and its inhabitants exhibit unrestrained contempt for every unsuspecting wayfarer. Its use of tension, which is meticulously established in the film's first forty-five minutes, and its release--the last forty-five minutes--is almost elegant in its simplicity. Throughout, violence is used in sparing and sudden bursts until the adrenaline-fueled final act, during which it is mercilessly sustained.

With some minor qualifications, this description also fits Marcus Nispel's 2003 remake. Here the enlarged budget and technical expertise have worked both for and against the film. On the one hand, a variety of new elements have been added to the story. Some, like the mysterious little boy or the ending, are average; others, like Leatherface's skin mask or the "extended family" are effective. On the other hand, the professionalism and attention to detail demonstrated by Daniel Pearl (whose cinematography here is magnificent; he was the lead cinematographer on the original after all) on down to those responsible for filming locations and set detail is consistently impressive.

So the basic "tension-release" framework has been lifted from the original but instead of improving on it the filmmakers have saddled it with characters, situations, drama and violence. (We learn from the HD extras, happily, that some 'tender moments' were left on the cutting room floor). Ultimately I believe it works as a horror movie on its own terms--in fact, I don't believe a better horror movie has been made until the genre's recent resurgence (i.e. The Walking Dead, etc)--and Nispel/Kosar deserve credit in attempting to revise the concept in minor ways for hardcore fans of the franchise. On the balance, however, the original's low-budget guerrilla-like realism as well as some of its visceral power have been compromised.

Finally of note is the performance of Jessica Biel. Having earned her acting chops on the former TV show-slash-Cheesefest "7th Heaven", Biel has as of late found a niche playing physically tough but likeable and intelligent characters (see Blade: Trinity). She's actually quite excellent here; as it was for the original TCM's Marilyn Burns, Biel's performance is exhilarating and intense--almost a kind of cinematic endurance test. But one ends up actually believing she has the acuity and toughness to survive the whole ordeal.

(Some fun trivia courtesy of IMDb:  A then unknown John Larroquette provided the narration in the original TCM. Despite becoming a distinguished actor in the years since, he more than happily agreed to reprise his role for the remake). 

Drawing Lines

This post is inspired, in part, by conversations I've had on this topic basically all my adult life, but especially since I truly declared myself to be a Christ-follower fifteen years ago, and even more especially in what has become polite apologetic talks I've been having, both online and in person, for about the past two months..  This topic has come up again and again, but now that light has been shed in what once were considered dark places, and now that this word "Tolerance" has become the new catchphrase of our culture, it seems a line must be drawn in the sand, now more than ever before. But what is funny, ironic, and sad at the same time is this idea: The Church is too quick to declare certain behaviors right and wrong. That's judgmental and just plain . . . wrong.

So let me get this straight: You are absolutely sure that its wrong, sinful, terrible to tell someone that their behavior is wrong. This, my friends, is the new tolerance. I've seen this repeated over and over again in the last few weeks/months/years by people who want to help the Church shed it's stuffy reputation. And I get it, in some ways. I think there are areas where the Church needs to repent, times when the Church has been hurtful, wrong, and on the other side of important issues. Made up of humans, sinners, we've often, in our checkered 2,000 plus years of history, strayed from our Gospel moorings.

However, it's interesting, this discussion we are having in our culture. If you bend your ear to hear what many people, most people are saying: "You shouldn't judge someones personal behavior (usually sexual preferences). You should respect their choices and give them the widest possible berth. They should be afforded all rights and privileges to practice the behavior they choose." That's what they are saying. "For you (as a Christian) to draw the line where you draw it, based on your belief system, is just plain wrong." This is what we are told; this is what I am told, whether directly or indirectly, nearly every day.

The only problem is that we don't actually believe this, do we? For instance, it's considered wrong now to tell someone that they are engaging in wrong behavior. If you follow an orthodox, Biblical position on sexuality, for instance, you are usually labeled a bigot, insensitive, and well, ironically, wrong. If you say that your basis for conduct is the trustworthy, inherent Word of God, well then you are considered narrow, not really open-minded, and well, ironically, wrong. If you declare that God is love, a love that expresses itself in right justice against sin and if you declare that everyone is born into Sin and with a Sinful nature, you are considered judgmental and, ironically, wrong. If you declare that God passionately pursued sinners by sending Jesus Christ, the only God-man and that his death, burial, and resurrection are the only way back to God, to eternal life, and to spiritual wholeness, you are considered intolerant and well, wrong.

But here's the problem underlying all of this "tolerance": it doesn't work out. In order to definitively declare something wrong, you are acknowledging that there is a basis, somewhere, for actually deciding right and wrong. It tells me that while you don't like where I put my line, you clearly have a line. You're not as tolerant as you might think. You have a value system that determines what is right and what is wrong. Because you have just told me that I'm wrong for thinking the way I do. Nobody actually believes the idea that truth is relative, that my body of truth that works for me is okay and your body of truth that works for you is okay. Because what happens when they conflict? What happens if my body of truth says that its okay to steal your iPad? How does that test your tolerance? All of a sudden we're pretty big on "Thou Shalt Not Steal." We're not advocating "conversations" and talking of a God who is "less black and white and more shades of gray", at least when it comes to my truth that says it's okay to steal your iPad.

Do you see where I'm going?

You may think you are the most progressive, nonjudgmental, hip, non-legalistic cool Christian out there, but you have a line somewhere. The question is, where do you draw it and on what basis? If I say that I take my code of right and wrong from the Bible, that may sound a bit archaic or old-fashioned. Fine. So where do you get yours? Is it the consensus of the prevailing culture? That's fine, but here is the problem with a majority-opinion type of value system. It depends on the goodness, the virtue, the character of the culture. And you don't have to look far into history to see cultures, many, whose values systems would make us recoil in horror. For most of American history, the majority considered black people to be less than human. It considered them, at times, 3/5ths human, worthy of buying and selling like property, and for a long time, not worthy of voting, holding office, or even sitting at the same lunch counter as whites. If, during that time, you allowed culture to determine your value system (as many Christians, sadly did), you'd think it was okay to treat your fellow man in this subhuman way. So you see the futility of drawing the line where culture determines the lines should be drawn?

Perhaps culture is not your measuring stick. Maybe it's Tradition. Maybe it's your own upbringing or experiences that shape your belief system. My point is not so much that you should accept the God of the Bible as the best arbiter of right and wrong as I do. My point is to help you see that, like me, you too have a system of right and wrong. You draw the line somewhere. And you base it on something, a set of core beliefs. You may not like me saying you have a set of core beliefs, but you have a set of core beliefs. I know at least one of those core beliefs: "Thou Shalt Not Steal my iPad". Am I right?...

The question is to ask yourself and for me to ask myself is simply this: Who determines who makes the rules? Who determines where the line should be drawn? What constitutes good and evil, sin and charity? What shapes our definitions of these things and how justice is served?

All of us are making judgments, whether we realize it or not. To declare someone intolerant is, in it's own way, a judgement about someones values. It's a statement, based on some kind of belief system.

As a sinful, fallen, Gospel-loving Christian saved by God's grace, I choose to anchor my value system to something timeless: God's unchanging revelation of Himself in His Word. I may not always interpret the Bible clearly because I "see through a glass darkly", but I've found that it's a more reliable standard than the changing whims of human emotion, popular culture, and social science.

All of us are planting our flags somewhere, whether we admit it or not. I'm planting mine here.

Review of "Superbad" (2007)

Superbad is a parable of values and friendship, reminding us that a good and earnest moral upbringing will be able to safely glide us through life and make us achieve happiness much easier. Its characters are well-mannered and sweet, not to mention inherently likable, as well as everything being morally correct and admirable.

Now onto the real review. Superbad is a shamelessly raunchy R-rated comedy with more four letter words than a Webster dictionary. Again, this sounds like the introduction I'd give a poorly rated film. By no means is Superbad a bad comedy. It is a smart, witty, and factual teen movie side-stepping clichés and underwritten primary characters, while at the same time remaining funny and entertaining until the end.

2007 was the year where Judd Apatow took off. He gained attention in 2005 with The 40 Year Old Virgin, but pretty much garnered a household name with this and Knocked Up, both starring Seth Rogen. It wouldn't surprise me to hear that Superbad is an autobiography, since the writers of the film, Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg, share the same names as the lead actors. Maybe that could be why this feels so sentimental and close to home. Or maybe it's because Superbad is aware what kind of unsettling situations high school can put you through and knows how to document them in a fun way.

The film centers around loudmouth pervert Seth (Hill) and self-conscious, paranoia-stricken Evan (Cera) as they endure their last few weeks of being high schoolers before they are shipped off to separate colleges. Seth and Evan have been friends for years, and are tired of the fact that their separate ways have been the talk of their parents and friends.

Seth has a crush on the recently-popular Jules (Stone), a beautiful redhead, who trusts him with supplying alcohol for her party. Evan has a crush on Becca (MacIsaac), a sweet and simple girl who agrees to meet up with him at Jules' upcoming party as well. In order to purchase the alcohol, both Seth and Evan trust their pal Fogel (Mintz-Plasse), who plans to acquire a fake ID. Because of this ID, Fogel now becomes his fake name, "McLovin," a name that has garnered much fame on the web.

The night unfolds into a chaotic spectacle of unprecedented stature, so much so that I won't go into explaining the routes and acts of desperation the characters take in order to be liked, admired, or even noticed. Fogel winds up teaming up with two police officers (Hader and Rogen) who act more like the bad guys rather than good guys. This setup and sort of topsy-tursvy treatment of character roles create limitless comedic possibilities, most of which are well utilized.

But what truly makes the film work is its level of realism and intelligence. It has wit, and puts it to use. The writing and acting captures the awkwardness of the teenage lifestyle with pinpoint accuracy, at the same time makes it fun and painful to witness. I can think of quite a few films that allow their characters to thrive on ego and self-interest, with no redeeming qualities. Here, the characters in Superbad just want to fit in and achieve the girl of their dreams, but shallow stereotypes and one stutter too many prevent this goal from happening.

Superbad is quite a rarity; a funny, good-natured comedy focusing on things of the immoral nature.  Sadly,  too many people believe these films are just raucous sex comedies with no substance, soul, or charm. However, the characters are likable and charismatic, and lack the oh-so-typical nihilistic, "I just want to have sex with anything that moves" mentality. Some may be surprised at the level of nuanced emotional instances the film reaches. The performances are fun, the writing is polished and witty, and the antics never seem to go over the top. It's too bad the women roles in the film feel a tad underwritten. Hopefully we have a well-written follow up to explore that angle sometime soon.

Review of "The Black Cat" (1934)

If anything, "The Black Cat" proves that awkward and unconventional film-making is nearly as ancient as cinema itself. This incredibly strange film hasn't got a plot (or at least not a highly significant one), but it nevertheless remains one of the greatest classics in the horror genre for a large number of other reasons. It represents the first – and undoubtedly finest – teaming of horror cinema titans Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff, and the sequences they share together (which are quite many) are so competitively brilliant you'll often think they really did behave like enemies on the filming sets.

 Other than the stellar performances of the two veterans, "The Black Cat" is a landmark horror film because of the unspeakably sinister atmosphere and the featuring of hugely shocking & controversial themes. Remember this film came out in 1934, and was Universal's highest grossing production that year, yet it revolves on topics like Satanism, torture and a wicked type of taxidermy! Some of the little trivia & monologue details, whether or not relevant to the plot, are almost too morbid and unsettling for words. For example: houses that are build on mass graves of World War One's concentration camps, vivid stories of war imprisonment and a rather explicit depiction of physical retribution during the climax. These are all elements that easily come across as shocking by today's standards, so I'm really curious what kind of effect "The Black Cat" must have had on movie-goers in 1934. I bet several people were traumatized for life. And then last but certainly not least, "The Black Cat" is a purely genuine (and one of Hollywood's only) highlight of the Expressionistic filming style. Not coincidentally, because writer/director Edgar G. Ulmer is European and previously worked with some of the greatest directors who first translated the artistic trend to cinema screens, like Fritz Lang ("Metropolis", "M") and Paul Wegener ("Der Golem"). With some of the aforementioned macabre themes, you're anticipating old dark houses and grim torture dungeons, but instead the sets are brightly lit, futuristic and even somewhat relaxing. It's a truly beautiful piece of work to behold, thanks to Ulmer's directorial vision and Charles D. Hall wondrous art direction.

 With such a beautiful depiction of atmospheric morbidity and the powerful acting showdown between Karloff and Lugosi, it's hard to deny that the absence of coherent storytelling is somewhat of a letdown. "The Black Cat" is virtually plot less and definitely doesn't owe anything to the writings of Edgar Allen Poe, even though the title and the reference of his name during the opening credits suggest otherwise. The film just unfolds the story of a vendetta between two war veterans. Hjalmar Poelzig (Karloff) was responsible for the 15 years lasting imprisonment of Dr. Werdegast (Lugosi) and tricked his wife and daughter into believing he died on the battlefield. By now, the purely evil Poelzig even promoted himself to being the High Priest of a devil worshiping cult and fiendishly plots to sacrifice the enchanting Joan Alison who was, along with her husband Peter, traveling with the vengeful Werdegast. The story often feels underdeveloped and it seems like the entire cast & crew realized the production primarily focused on style and visual flair. With a slightly more competent script "The Black Cat" easily would have ranked in the top five greatest horror movies ever made. Now it's still a highly recommended classic, and worth seeing if only for the nostalgic and almost magical sequence where Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi play chess together.

Review of "Looper" (2012)

Sitting here a few days after viewing Rian Johnson's Looper, parts of it are still falling in to place. Standing out amongst this years crop of mostly underwhelming sequels and comic book adaptations, Looper thunders onto the screen, showing, much like Inception did two years ago, that there is a place in 2012 for fresh material and just how good it can be when it's done right.

The film tells the story of Joe (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), a hit-man for an organised crime syndicate tasked with assassinating targets sent from the future. After being confronted with his future self (Bruce Willis) and failing to perform, Young Joe is forced to track down Old Joe and finish the job before being tracked down himself by the nefarious mob led by Abe (Jeff Daniels). However there is much more to the story than the basic premise, and Johnson isn't afraid to keep details close to his chest until later in the film than most movies of this type, so I won't spoil them here.

While certainly paying subtle homage to its predecessors, Looper is a stunningly original sci-fi masterpiece, vastly superior to any of the higher profile action releases this year. While certainly made on a much larger playing field than Johnson's previous work (Brick, The Brothers Bloom), there is still a small-scale, independent feel to the film, and it benefits from clearly staying completely under the control of the young director. Delivering excitement sprinkled with thoughtful themes of personal sacrifice, he offers us much to chew on.

Johnson understands that a successful action film doesn't need an explosion every ten minutes, and allows ample time for developing character and story, something which will likely divide audiences. Looper is very deliberately constructed, and after the highly charged opening establishing the intricate time-travel premise and direction of the plot, Johnson scales back the action almost too much as he ambitiously juggles the many and varied story elements he has created. Thankfully, any weakness in the middle of the film is largely overshadowed as Johnson launches the third act with such ferocity that the stark change of pace leaves you breathless.

Despite the problems in the middle of the film, Looper overcomes its flaws purely by being that rare beast in Hollywood nowadays, the totally original script. Not an adaptation, not a sequel or remake, but a fresh idea from the mind of an immensely talented young film-maker. In a perfect world, Looper would be the game changer it deserves to be, slapping Hollywood studios across the face and announcing that not everything has to be a PG-13 franchise based on a comic book. It's unlikely that this will the case, and it remains to be seen whether or not the film will even be a success, but it's encouraging to see that there are young auteurs at work who are fighting to craft new and exciting stories, even if we only get to see the results every year or two.

Review of "Les Miserables" (2012)

The guiding ethic of any film adaptation of a legendary source must be: "Change as little as possible." Those in charge of Les Miz knew precisely what they were working with. A few songs are shortened, a handful of lines altered, and a few scenarios condensed or adapted to their original literary form, but the whole remains gloriously and satisfyingly intact.

"The Work Song" is set to the image of a hundred convicts battling a stormy sea to pull a listing ship into dry dock—and only here does the film's live-recording ethic fall short, as the music and voices lack the power to match the imagery, seemingly washed out by the sea noise, where the live musical would normally captivate from the first note.

Neither of them theatrical belters, Jackman and Crowe's performances feel subdued in the opening scene. But the film finds its gravitas the instant Colm Wilkinson appears as the Bishop of Digne, and from that instant, the next two and a half hours are nothing less than the repeated sliding of the viewer's soul up and down a finely-honed blade.

The ability to take close-ups gives the film an intimacy that is unattainable on a Broadway stage, and power numbers are sometimes reduced to a chilling whisper. Anne Hathaway destroys herself to bring Fantine to life, and her incredible, personal pain washes in waves from the screen. The tooth removal, normally excised from the musical, is even back from the book—though modified in location. "Confrontation" is then viscerally set as a full-on close-quarters sword fight.

Film also allows a depth of scale that challenges the stage. The transition to "At the End of the Day" is a grim and powerful scramble through the slums of Paris, shaking the screen with the palpable rage of a nation. "Look Down" is another tour de force, while "Do You Hear the People Sing" emerges from a quiet, elegiac call to arms that organically overtakes General Lamarque's funeral procession.

Samantha Barks' Éponine lights up in her every interaction with Marius, and shots of her in the background of "A Heart Full of Love" are soul-rending. But she suffers just enough tiny cuts that "A Little Fall of Rain" is not quite as arresting as it should be, and the constant close-ups amputate the power of a scene that should captivate not only through its intimacy, but through the inactivity that washes across the entirety of a once-violent stage.

Russel Crowe's soft-voiced Javert takes some getting used to, and while it works more often than one might expect, he sometimes seems to be singing with a sock in his mouth—most notably during "One Day More," where he seems to have been mixed in at a different volume level from the rest of the cast. Yet the cinematography of "Stars" is simple yet stunning, and Javert's Suicide suffers nothing in this interpretation.

M. Thénardier endures a few cuts (most notably the truncation of "Dog Eats Dog"), but Sacha Baron Cohen steals enough asides and chews enough scenery that his part hardly feels reduced.

The background has been filled in with elements from the novel, and those who have read Hugo's epic will appreciate nods to Fauchelevent and the Petit-Picpus convent, Gavroche's elephant-home, Marius' grandfather, and the tavern behind the barricade. There is even a quick cut to Gavroche when Éponine is shot, winking at their normally undisclosed sibling relationship.

Even the finale remains perfectly and satisfyingly intact. The only challenge with a film that so precisely parallels its stage inspiration is resisting the necessity to deliver a standing ovation once the final note has been sung. If only they had found a way to incorporate a curtain call!

Review of "The Ghost and Mr. Chicken" (1966)

This picture is easy to rave about. I don't know how many times I've seen it, but 'Chicken' never fails to work its magic. A thesis could be written on its gentle lampooning of small town America, the travails of the 'little guy', and the character studies which show the human comedy which surrounds us every day of our lives. Pretty much every scene is a classic of comedy, from the malfunctioning elevator operator to the repeated motifs of 'Atta boy, Luther' and 'And they used Bon Ami!' It's also a treasure trove of fine performances, from Burt Mustin to Jessalyn Fax, not to mention Don K., of course. Harry Hickox, Hope Summers, Charles Lane, what could be better? Everything is genuine, from Skip Homier's matching with (former Playboy model!) Joan Staley to Luther's accurate but frenzied punching of the transmission buttons in the center of the steering wheel of his Edsel. Vic Mizzy's score is incredible, and his crazed organ toccata will burn itself into your memory even more than his trademark electric guitar accents. Everything is well-composed in Techniscope. This picture, along with the rest of the Knotts Universal contract (climaxing in the very odd 'The Love God?'), 'Angel in My Pocket', and even 'Cold Turkey' form an amazing comic vision of Americana, created by brilliant minds who knew how to capture it without resorting to cheap shots or vulgarity. 'Chicken' is a great comedy, a classic, and its greatness is found in its humbleness.

How to Fit the Pieces of the Christian Worldview Together

Note: The following is my take on the practical applications of Alex McLellan's new book, A Jigsaw Guide to Making Sense of the World (IVP Books, 2012).

This fallen world can be puzzling, but you can make sense of it – and help other people figure it out – even though you can’t know everything there is to know about the world. Just like assembling a jigsaw puzzle, you can fit enough clues to the universe together to be able to see the big picture emerge. Once you see it, you’ll discover that a Christian worldview is the only one that truly reflects the world’s reality.

Here’s how you can fit the pieces of the Christian worldview together for yourself and help other people do the same, so they can see how it makes sense to have relationships with Jesus Christ:

See the worldview that best fits with reality. Out of all possible worldviews, the Christian way of seeing the world best corresponds with reality. Some of the many reasons why include: the evidence that the universe was designed by an intelligent creator; the inborn human desire to search for God; the fulfillment that only comes from a relationship with God; the fact that Jesus Christ changed the world more than anyone who has ever lived; and the evidence for Jesus’ life, ministry, sacrificial death, and resurrection from the dead. You can come to understand that Christianity makes sense of the world better than any other worldview without knowing all that there is to know; you simply need to discover how important parts of the worldview puzzle fit together with the world’s natural order. Discovering how enough of the pieces fit together causes the entire picture to come into view, just like what happens when you’re putting together a jigsaw puzzle and can confidently know what the picture is even when you haven’t yet assembled all of the pieces. Engage people in conversations in which you all can explore possible answers to life’s ultimate questions, such as how and why the universe came into being, and why human beings exist. Discuss what the Bible says, and listen carefully to each other, with the goal of learning from each other – and ultimately, from God. As you take hold of what you discover to be true about the world, consider what comes next, and put the pieces together one at a time. Keep in mind that people must overcome whatever obstacles exist to them seeing the truth about the world: moral resistance (such as a desire to hold onto pleasure or pride rather than paying the cost of following Jesus), emotional resistance (such as directing anger at God for the pain you've suffered), and spiritual blindness. Ask God to help you overcome those obstacles, and pray for others to be able to overcome them, with God’s help.

Handle the truth. Since the Christian worldview is built on the foundation of truth, be prepared to defend Christianity as absolute truth to those who want to believe that truth is relative or those who don’t yet understand how the Christian worldview is the only one that truly reflects reality. Keep in mind that how you talk to people about faith is just as important as what you say when you talk to them. In order to get people to really listen to you, it’s essential to show attitudes of gentleness and respect when talking to them about what you believe. Once you've earned people’s trust, you can explain to them why Jesus Himself is the truth for all people at all times and in all places.

Share your belief. All beliefs are not created equal, and the Christian worldview best corresponds to the world’s reality. As a Christian, you have a responsibility to know what you believe and why you believe it, so you can give reasons for your faith in Jesus when people ask you about it. Every reason you believe is a reason to share with others who are spiritually searching, and every reason that you share can help others discover the truth.

Anchor your faith. Understand that real faith is never blind, or based merely on feelings. True faith is anchored in the reliable truth of what the Bible says – all the evidence and the many reasons that God has given you to believe in Him. If you approach God with even just a small bit of faith, that will be enough because God will meet you where you are and help you grow in faith. But your faith and reason work together when you’re trying to make sense of the world. So be sure to read, study, and reflect on the Bible says, and act on it by incorporating biblical principles into your life. When others see faith and reason at work in your life, they’ll be inspired to seek God themselves.

Deal with your doubt. Don’t deny or suppress your doubt; instead, face it and deal with it directly. Doubt can serve a good purpose in your life when it motivates you to ask questions and dig deeper into your search for the truth. Ask God to give you the humility you need to reflect honestly on your doubts, to be open to learning new information, and to be respectful to others who are searching spiritually yet dealing with their own doubt. Since God is bigger than any of your doubts, when you bring your doubts to God, He will strengthen your faith.

Show others the big picture. Once you've put enough pieces of knowledge together to make sense of what’s true about the world, you can help other people see the big picture by sharing the Gospel message with them. Help them understand the problem of how sin separates people from God, appreciate the solution of how Jesus’ sacrificial death is the only way that people can connect with God, and make a decision about trusting Jesus with their lives.

Adapted from A Jigsaw Guide to Making Sense of the World, copyright 2012 by Alex McLellan. Published by IVP Books, a division of InterVarsity Press, Downers Grove, Ill.

Review of "The Messengers" (2007)

"The Messengers" revolves around a young teenager, Jess (Kristen Stewart), who moves out into rural North Dakota with her dad (Dylan McDermott), her mother (Penelope Ann Miller), and her little brother, to a sunflower farm. The house they move into is run-down and very spooky, and Jess isn't happy about the entire situation. From the moment they arrive to the house, Jess begins to have strange experiences and see very bizarre things. Her younger brother also sees things that nobody else can, and Jess is concerned. A man who shows up out of nowhere (John Corbett) to work at the farm, and the family becomes pretty close with him as well. But the increasingly frightening supernatural experiences that only Jess seems to see get more and more violent, and seem to have a relation to something that happened in the house years ago.

With some obvious similarities to "The Grudge" (and just about every ghost story you can think of), "The Messengers" is an extremely derivative ghost tale that manages to hold itself up without becoming unbearably watchable. The story itself is your typical haunted-house yarn - family moves into house, strange experiences begin that can only be seen by the children or our main character, seems to have a relation to a horrible incident that happened in the house years before. Full of dark and shadowy rooms, ghost-like figures with ridiculously orchestrated jerky movements (reminiscent of "The Grudge"), mostly useless "jump" scares, and a small child character who can see things others can't, "The Messengers" is clichéd, no doubting that. I wasn't afraid once during this film, because I knew when to expect all of the scary moments. Maybe it's because I've seen films like this one too many times, but all I can say for sure is that I didn't find this film scary.

While this film is heavily clichéd (which is probably it's strongest negative point), I still managed to enjoy the majority of it. While the story is typical, it managed to keep my attention and I was at least interested. The cinematography really soared in this film. Everything was very nice looking and the atmosphere was great. The backdrop of the house and the surrounding land really made it feel like it was in the complete middle of nowhere, and the old house itself, while it was your typical haunted house, was admittedly spooky looking. The acting was really good for the most part. Kristen Stewart is the lead and is very talented and convincing. I'd previously seen her in "Panic Room" at a younger age, and even then she was good. I can see her going places. Dylan McDermott and John Corbett are both very good as well, and Penelope Ann Miller, while not giving the best performance of the cast, was decent enough. I can't say anything too horrible about the acting though.

Overall, "The Messengers" is your typical, cliché-ridden modern ghost story, and it borrows so much from other recent films of it's type (which a lot of these films seem to do), that it becomes another one of those "we've seen it all before" horror movies. It doesn't offer much of anything new for the genre, but it was at least watchable. If you want some cheap scares and a very few number of eerie moments, you'll probably enjoy this. But mostly, this film is one big cliché. Enjoyable if you don't take it too seriously though, but just average.

Review of "The Ghost Breakers" (1940)

Many movie fans who were raised seeing Bob Hope strictly in the slightly depressing films he made during the 1960s and his periodic TV specials may be surprised to learn that in the 1940s he was one of the best "fast patter' comedians working on the radio and in films. Generally playing a coward who still managed to come up on top in circumstances over which he had no control, the comic starred in a number of successful films.

I admittedly have a preference for "old dark house" mysteries, and I spent years trying to catch up on this one. The only version of the script which had been readily available through the 1970s was the Dean Martin/Jerry Lewis remake Scared Stiff, which used the basic premise but altered some of the gags and inserted musical numbers.

The action opens in New York City where Lawrence "Larry" Lawrence (Hope) is preparing for a radio broadcast as the city is hit by a storm-created blackout. Larry broadcasts gossip which includes, with tacit approval from the mob, news on some of the local crime kingpins. Unfortunately, his latest broadcast annoys Frenchy Duval (Paul Fix), and Larry is invited over for a few straight facts.

In the meantime, one of Larry's listeners is conferring with a lawyer who informs her she's inherited an island off the Cuban Coast. Mary Carter (Paulette Goddard) is thrilled at the news and makes plans to sail at once, in spite of the island's grim reputation as a hot spot for ghosts and worse. Fending off an offer from an unnamed third party to buy the island, she starts packing.

Larry arrives at Duval's hotel, which happens to also be the one where the heiress is staying. Suspecting he's in for more trouble than he can handle (i.e., any at all), Larry borrows a gun from his servant Alex (Willie Best). When a mysterious stranger is shot at the hotel, Lawrence panics --- assuming he killed the man -- and ends up in Mary's room. The police arrive and she offers him refuge.

Picking her trunk as his hiding place, Larry winds up aboard her cruise ship. Spotting a death threat that had been delivered to her stateroom, he decides that he and Alex will stay and protect her.

En route to Cuba, they encounter Geoff Montgomery (Richard Carlson, starting his move away from playing college-aged characters), with whom Mary's only recently acquainted. He offers to play guide once they arrive in Havana.

Mary vanishes from a nightclub, heading out to heck out the island by night. Larry and a reluctant Alex hire a rowboat and also make for the isle. Arriving, they briefly examine the hut of a local woman with a "zombie son" (Noble Johnson in a fairly creepy, deadpan performance) and proceed on to the bay haunted castle.

It quickly becomes obvious that there's someone else on the island. Alex and Larry have a run-in with a real ghost and the zombie son. Mary arrives and, her clothing torn, puts on a dress once owned by an ancestor for which she's a deal not so dead ringer. This confuses the zombie long enough for them to lock him away.

Investigating the cellars, Larry and Mary find her lawyer in one of the coffins. He'd been attacked by the mysterious individual who had wanted to purchase the island. He dies before he can reveal the killer -- only giving a cryptic clue. This turns out to be a hint at a fabulous treasure hidden underneath the castle.

The killer makes himself known, but is dispatched before he can eliminate the witnesses.

A fun little outing, and a decent example of one of the fairly early sound "old house" mysteries. These films were popular in the silent era, generally pitting one or more characters against an unknown killer in a rambling, storm-tossed mansion. Hope and Goddard had also starred in a sound remake of one of the better known of these haunted-mansion mysteries, The Cat and the Canary.

Review of "Roxanne" (1987)

Roxanne is probably going to go down as the pinnacle of Steve Martin's career as both an actor and a writer. Granted, he's made better movies (L.A. Story, The Man With Two Brains), but this is the one movie that seems to have grabbed the public's attention and keeps bringing them back. And that's because it's deceptively simple, the story of the underdog falling for the girl who has it all. It's peripherally based on Cyrano de Bergerac, but most people haven't read it (or even seen a movie adaptation), so much of the intricacies will be lost. But everyone can identify with the main character, C.D. Bales, and the story of his doomed love.

The movie is a romantic comedy, but that's too simplistic. It's full of incredible situational and verbal humor. Whether he's playing a slapstick routine trying to leave Roxanne's apartment or trying to think up the (more than) twenty insults that would be better than `Big Nose,' Martin's pen rarely falters. He can do drama, as evidenced by the scene on the roof with the overweight kid. And he writes compelling poetry: when C.D. speaks from his heart under Roxanne's window it threatens to turn hokey at any moment, but never does. The power of the movie is in the screenplay, and Martin's written an absolute gem.  

Of course, it also doesn't hurt that C.D. is such a sympathetic character. Actually, "sympathetic" is probably the wrong word. He's such a strong and dynamic character that every man would want to be him and every woman would want to have him…if it weren't for that stupid nose of his. Think about it: he's athletic, charming, well-read, witty, and handsome. And that's what makes it even worse for the viewer: knowing all these wonderful things are stuck inside this man and people can't see past his nose (pun not intended). Martin totally inhabits C.D. Bales: he knows him so well that it's second nature. He looks like he's having a blast with it, too, which helps the audience quite a bit.

It's not all Steve Martin, though (although it seems like it at times). The supporting cast does well with their roles and goes far beyond what I would have thought possible. Example: Daryl Hannah, an actress with a hit-and-miss record that's mostly miss, is surprisingly convincing as an astronomy student who knows about sub-nuclear particles and comet trajectories. Or Michael J. Pollard, who takes a role that's pretty much a series of one-liners and makes me remember him above all the other firefighters by the pure glee that he takes with every line.

It's certainly not perfect, nor is it Martin's best offering, but that's beside the point. The point is that it's the kind of movie people really enjoy but can't put their finger on just why. Well, the movie is smart, and that's why people find it refreshing. It's not simply a cookie-cutter romance with the typical leading man and the regular lines: it's got a heart and humanity that most romantic comedies disregard as unnecessary.

Review of "Apocalypse Now" (1979)

Francis Ford Coppola's "Apocalypse Now" is not a Vietnam War film. Do not confuse it with one. It is set to the back drop of the war, but it is a metaphorical exposition on the deteriorating effects that war has on the human psyche. It is also one of the most audacious films ever made, produced, or even conceived (second to the Lord of the Rings trilogy.) To call it a masterpiece would be an understatement of proportions as ambitious as the film's production levels.

Opening with no credits and following a memorable first scene playing to the tune of the Doors "The End" as Martin Sheen's Captain Benjamin L. Willard hallucinates to images of helicopters and napalm, the plot is essentially laid out in the first 15 minutes. Willard's mission is to "terminate... with extreme prejudice" Colonel Kurtz (Marlon Brando) who has invariably gone AWOL in the far reaches of the Cambodian jungle and, as told by his general, is "out there operating without any decent restraint, totally beyond the pale of any acceptable human conduct. And he is still in the field commanding troops." Kurtz is a delusional Colonel now being worshipped by a large group of followers who have dubbed him a god. For Willard, this covert operation seems somewhat more manageable than actual combat, yet, the journey he is about to take will be a personal quest that will challenge the limits of his human behavior.

Teaming up with a small crew, they embark down the vast reaches of the river in a rickety boat. Along the way, Willard educates himself on all things Kurtz. During Sheen's raspy voice over, he details his thoughts on the abundance of material he reads. Kurtz was a highly decorated and respected Green Beret. He was a normal man with a family, until a part of him succumbed to the horrors of human brutality and he led himself down the path that Willard is being led. The descent into the jungle is marked by a mesmerizing aura that echoes the battles being fought not to far away. Eventually the power of the experience weights on the group as drugs and a sort of solitary confinement attacks their senses. But Willard seems unfazed and desensitized in his quest to find Kurtz. As he reads about this mythic figure, he is drawn to the man's power and why he has become what he has become. We know that Willard's slow decay will parallel that of Kurtz's.

Marlon Brando has been revered for decades. His presence: unmatchable. His genius: undeniable. But for those unacquainted with his acting prowess and unaccustomed to his physical nuance, Brando can be perceived, in the eyes of an uncompromising film-goer, as a hack. He is most certainly not. Brando was difficult to work with, hard to interpret and impossible to understand, but his talent for unintelligible rants and unparalleled monologues is irrefutable. The man obviously knew what he was doing even if we didn't. His Colonel Kurtz is a being of limitless delusions and continual profundity.

If the film is any indication of the journeys into hell than Francis Ford Coppola's actual experience with making this masterpiece is a true life account of one man's fanatical struggle to produce a movie. It is reported that during the film's 200 plus day principle photography schedule, Coppola contemplated suicide. The film was not only an undeniable struggle to make; it is a grueling film to watch. Coppola's sweat and blood seep through the pores of the steamy locals and his dedication filters through the orifices of Martin Sheen's haunted soldier Willard.

I can not help but feel a warm sense of nostalgia for this type of film. At the dawn of all that was original and unprecedented, films that challenged as well as stimulated were commonplace. Audacity aside, Apocalypse Now is pure film-making. My respect and admiration for Mr. Coppola is of the highest order. But I shudder at the return to what has become the norm for today's standards for film: a lack of innovation. It is not simply the unoriginality of the world of cinema today; it is the fact that nobody seems to care to tell a story anymore or to tell one with heart. But we still have the great ones like Coppola's masterpiece, a film which bathed in its ability to give us something deeper than that which we could comprehend.

That depth in Apocalypse Now is the step into madness. The killing can disturb. The loss of innocence can unhinge. But it is the damage from within; the countless barrages of images that distress, unnerve and detach us from our everyday world and the memories that plague our deepest thoughts that eventually segregates us from humanity and propels us into the realm of the instinctual, the savage and the animalistic. If the thought of killing does not provide sustenance, the act of killing provides man with its fundamental catharsis.

Review of "Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance" (2011)

Oh dear. How should I start? I went to "Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance" and I overheard people during the end credits talk amongst themselves. "I couldn't wait to see this movie" said one gentleman. His colleague recounted with "I couldn't wait for it to end." To be fair, here's another incident: I found myself talking with an acquaintance later on who also saw the feature. I mentioned that I planned to write a review on this movie. This was followed by a wincing face while he very softly said "Ooooooh!" As he shook his head, I knew with certainty this movie would be discussed in hushed tones by those who had seen it.

For the uninitiated, "Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance" is the indirect sequel to 2007's "Ghost Rider." These movies are based on the Marvel Comics character of the same name with the same premise. Johnny Blaze (Nicolas Cage) is a daredevil stunt motorcyclist who made a pact with Mephistopheles (Ciaran Hinds, "John Carter") to cure his father's cancer in exchange for his soul. After a cruel twist of fate, Blaze got burned in the deal, losing his soul and becoming a demonic pawn of dark forces. He now has supernatural abilities and is able change at will into a fiery skull-headed demon known as "The Rider," who has a fierce sense of justice. In this form, he is nearly indestructible and uses flaming chains as weapons.

The new movie finds Blaze eight years after the events of the first picture. The cursed loner has left behind his normal life and is living a meager existence in Eastern Europe.

In his earthly guise of "Rourke," the devil is tracking his own son Danny (Fergus Riordan, "I Want to Be a Soldier") in order to inhabit his body. Rourke's current body is dying, as the devil in human form weakens the host. To do Rourke's bidding, the mercenary Ray Carrigan (Johnny Whitworth, "Gamer") and his merry band of goons are hot on Danny's trail.

The boy and his mother Nadya (Violante Placido) are hiding within a monastery's castle when it is stormed. All the monks are killed and the duo is on the run. The drunken priest Moreau (Idris Elba, "Thor") finds and recruits Johnny Blaze to help protect the boy from the devil's insidious plan. Blaze is reluctant to unleash "The Rider" to defend Danny and make battle with the dark forces pursuing the boy. Moreau makes Blaze an offer he cannot refuse: access to a supernatural sect that can lift Blaze's curse and free him from his dark pact. With the prospect to regain his soul, how could he possibly say "no" to that?

A conflict with the Ghost Rider leaves Carrigan dead. He is resurrected by Rourke as the dreaded Blackout, complete with supernatural abilities to siphon life and to decay anything he touches. A great example of his newfound powers is handled somewhat amusingly: Blackout touches a sandwich and it decays. Then he touches an apple, it too dissolves. Nothing happens when he picks up a Twinkie, affirming that a Twinkie will last forever. In this case, the Twinkie can even withstand evil powers.

The Ghost Rider's new look is awesome, having been modified from the previous picture. This time, the skull is charred black, fierce and menacing. When the Rider sucks the sole of a baddie from him, he is truly a horrific force to be reckoned with. Towers of flames spirals off the Rider like a geyser. The way the Rider's leather jacket smolders, bubbles and smokes is a really great detail I haven't seen in the movies before.

The MTV-like camera work was notably atrocious. Many scenes are presented with animation and other graphics that happen so quickly, when they are over you're not sure what happened. The hip, fluid, linear approach I am sure the filmmakers were going for is completely upstaged by an overstretching of the medium. The effect is dizzying, unnerving and, quite frankly, amateur looking. How about the sound? I half wondered if I was going to be partially deaf for a day after seeing the movie, much like the day after a Motley Crue concert, due to the non-stop barrage of loud action sequences and ear-pounding music. If you want to replicate the effect, just put a metal bucket over your head and let a six-year old drum on it with a pair of mallets.

I'm sure the studio felt there could be no wrong in green-lighting this picture. The 2007 original actually grossed money despite being panned by most critics. This new movie boasts a very impressive screen writing credit: that of David S. Goyer. He is best known as the man who breathed new life into the Batman revision for the films "Batman Begins" (2005) and "The Dark Knight" (2008). Surely, he was believed to be able to reinvigorate the Ghost Rider franchise after its dismal 2007 start.

"Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance" is an un-engaging and un-interesting film that is an incoherent mess. I cannot fathom why anyone thought making this movie could possibly have been a good idea. It's frantic, chaotic and downright ugly. There is no sense of awe or fun, which is something you would want in a comic book based movie. If someone wanted to write a thesis on why they should stop making comic book movies, look no further than "Ghost Rider II."

Church Hopping

(The following comes from Dr. James Emery White.  It's just such a good word, that I had to re-post!  I really hope this speaks to you, but especially to my fellow brothers and sisters in Christ.  Speak, Holy Spirit!)

For the past few summers, we’ve offered Sno-Cones following our weekend services as part of our Guest Services experience. The goal was to give exiting kids a final pleasant memory of their time at Meck (Mecklenburg Community Church), as well as create a “linger” factor for parents to connect with each other and the staff.

This summer, we’ve been offering them as a “surprise” on select weekends, but not every weekend.

“I go to another church,” he continued, “but during the summer I come here for the Sno-Cones. So where are they?”

The volunteer explained to him our current approach to Sno-Cones, and he became rather indignant. “Is there any way you can let people know in advance when it’s a Sno-Cone weekend so that we know when to come?”

I guess people really like crushed ice and syrup.

Let’s talk church hopping, shall we?

Actually, I’m not the one bringing the subject up. It was surprising to find two articles on the matter get picked up and carried nationally – in the same week, no less – this past month. 

First, a working definition: church hopping is going from one church to another without committing to any one church for any significant period of time (which makes it different than legitimate church “shopping”).

As Betsy Hart writes, hoppers reflect a growing tendency to decide, after they have officially joined a particular church, that “Oh, that pastor down the street is a little more high-energy than mine,” or “Gee, the music here isn’t really meeting my needs right now,” or “I really am not crazy about that new children’s church director.”

So they hop from church to church.

The hard-core hopper never even makes an initial commitment. They perpetually float between churches, pursuing a Beth Moore study at First Baptist, youth group at First Methodist, weekend services at Hope, Grace, or Community Church, marriage enrichment events at …well, you get the picture. 

What’s driving this?

For some, it’s simply the consumer mindset of our culture at work. 

As Hart writes, “Church ‘hopping’ is the ultimate ‘all about me’ experience.” They take from various churches whatever it is they perceive to be of value without committing to any one church either to serve or support.

For some, it’s insecurity.

They have to be wherever they think it’s “happening” in the Christian world. I know of pastors who joke about a “migratory flow pattern” among Christians in their community who are constantly church-hopping to the “next” thing in church life. 

They move from one church to another, looking for the next hot singles group, the next hot church plant, the next hot speaker, the next hot youth group. 

Many times they end up full circle where they began, because their original church suddenly became “next.”

For some, it’s spiritual gluttony. 

They want nothing more than to be “fed,” and when they feel they’ve eaten all a church has to offer, they move on where there is the potential for more food – as if that is what constitutes growing in Christ or being connected to Christ. 

For some, it’s refusing accountability.

A pattern of sin is pursued, or a choice made, and they leave for a place where no one knows, and no one asks.

For some, it’s avoiding stewardship.

If they are not committed to any one church, there is no obligation to give or serve at any one church. They can float above sacrifice without guilt. 

For some, it’s emotional immaturity.

A decision is made they don’t agree with, a building campaign is initiated they didn’t vote for, a staff change is made they didn’t like, so they take their marbles and go play somewhere else.

I know, I know. None of these reflect well on the person leaving, which intimates that anyone who leaves a church is somehow in the wrong, and that is not fair. 

In truth, there can be times to not simply hop, but leap. If there is scandal that is simply not addressed, doctrinal heresy, or patterns of abuse, you should leave.  

But for the typical hopper, it’s not time for self-justification, but loving admonishment.

First, church isn’t about you. Sorry, but it’s not. It isn’t one of many stores in a mall that exists to serve your spiritual shopping list. Church is a gathered community of believers who are pooling together their time, talent and resources to further the Great Commission. 

Find one and start investing your life.

Second, the very nature of authentic community is found in the “one anothers.” Love one another, serve one another, encourage one another; this cannot happen apart from doing life with people. 

You need community.

Third, the absence of a ministry you desire may be God’s call on your life to start it, rather than leave to find a church that has it. Remember, every member is a minister, and has been given at least one spiritual gift for service in the life and mission of the church. 

Fourth, you aren’t going to agree with every decision the leadership of any church makes, regardless of its structure or decision-making process. You either feel you can trust the character of the leadership, or you can’t. 

And being able to trust that leadership doesn’t mean they will always do things the way you think they should.  In other words, don’t hop every time you disagree. That’s immature.

(And for goodness sake, don’t stay and pout or politic, either. Either get on board once the decision is made, if it was one that didn’t breach doctrine or ethics, or find a place where you can.)

Fifth, don’t worry about being fed as much as learning to feed yourself. Even more, concern yourself with taking what you already know and applying it to your life, and then helping to feed others who are new to the faith!

Finally, spiritual depth isn’t fostered by satiating your sense of felt needs. It’s receiving a balanced diet of teaching and challenge, investing in service and mission, living in community and diversity that you probably would not select for yourself. 

If you simply go to where you are drawn, you will miss out on addressing those areas of life where you are blind. 

All to say, if you’re ever at Meck, have a Sno-Cone. 

But don’t leave your church to come for it.

Start serving them there.

James Emery White