BOYCOTTS, and other things that make Christians look stupid

Today my wife received two e-mails calling for boycotts. The first one is a letter written to Wal-Mart in reference to the “Big Box” retailer becoming part of the Gay/Lesbian Chamber of Commerce. The text of the letter reads as follows:

Thank you for your response to my comments. However, your message was very disturbing.

My family spends thousands of dollars at Wal-Mart every year. For years, we have purchased nearly everything we needed (food, clothes, house supplies, school supplies, entertainment items, etc.) at Wal-Mart. As of this moment, that type of reliance on Wal-Mart products will decrease significantly until Wal-Mart changes its current "commitment" to "advancing" the ungodly lifestyle of homosexuality.

You've never stopped homosexuals from coming into your stores and purchasing your products, but now you've crossed the line. It is one thing to sell products to homosexuals and give them adequate service, but it is entirely different to financially support their ungodly agenda. You have now thrust yourself into the Culture War...and are on the WRONG side.

As a concerned Christian and American, I will make it a point to let others know of your ungodly antics, beginning by copying this e-mail to more than 50 individuals. Who knows how many people they will forward it on to?

I beg you to change your ways, or risk losing your longtime support base--middle-class Americans (many who still care about conservative Christian values). There are a lot of Americans who'll never buy a Ford again (at least not until their support of the homosexual agenda ceases). I wonder how many will now cut back on Wal-Mart, too?

Sincerely,

The second e-mail was protesting a Muslim Christmas Stamp. After giving several reasons that the USPS official stamp is a bad idea, it ends with this admonition:

REMEMBER to adamantly and vocally BOYCOTT this stamp when purchasing your stamps at the post office. To use this stamp would be a slap in the face to all those AMERICANS who died at the hands of those whom this stamp honors.

I’ve ALWAYS hated the idea of boycotts, but was never able to clearly articulate my reasoning until I read Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell. In this amazing little book Bell calls the followers of Christ to a new direction. So, let me suggest that in the face of sin and sinful times the Church must become a blessing machine

We reclaim the church as a blessing machine not only because that is what Jesus intended from the beginning but also because serving people is the only way their perceptions of church are ever going to change. This is why it is so toxic for the gospel when Christians picket and boycott and complain about how bad the world is. This behavior doesn't help. It makes it worse. It isn't the kind of voice Jesus wants his followers to have in the world. Why blame the dark for being dark? It is far more helpful to ask why the light isn't as bright as it could be.
- Rob Bell

More Heros

Class of '07

Sunday night I met with the STAND Ministries Senior class (Taylor, Maddie, and Whitney) and let me just say, "wow".

I am so excited. All three of them are smart, devoted, articulate, and strong leaders. We could have talked for hours. We covered the topics on my list and then many, many other topics. They have a understanding of people and relationships that rival many of the adults I know (including the youth minister). Meeting with them this year is going to be my pleasure. I look forward to hearing their advice, traveling with them and watching God work through them.

Thanks to all three of you for last night. I, for one, needed it.

ps. Thumb to the nose.......twice.

My Heros:

Gone on a Mission Trip. You can keep up with it here:

Mission AICM 2006

C is for Cookie

You would think that after several months away from the blogsphere that I would come back from the dead with something insightful and profound. Have you met me?

Instead, I’m going to do everyone reading this a huge favor. If you are ever in Huntington, WV – or you are lucky enough to live here then you will thank me later. Anyhew – I love chocolate chip cookies. It’s really my favorite food. There is nothing like cookies and milk. I would eat them every day if I could. I, in no way, claim that this is an exhaustive list, but in my experience the best chocolate chip cookies here in H-town are the following.

Carol Durst’s homemade cookies. I hate to start the list with cookies that are not pubic ally available, but hey, ya gotta do…. So if you know Carol, you probably know that her chocolate chip cookies are the BEST. If you don’t know her and don’t have an inside track to these delectable treats, I suggest the following.

Subway cookies. Specifically the one on Rt. 60. Man, you can’t go wrong with Subway chocolate chip cookies. If they are out of them I would suggest you sweet talk Judy (the manager) into selling you some of the cookie dough. You can go home and cook them yourself.

Max and stinkin’ Erma’s. Unbelievable. They serve them to you hot and ready and for an extra six bucks, with a glass of milk (so Max’s is a little expensive). If you don’t want to wait, I suggest you order them about 15 minutes before you finish your meal.

Welcome to Moe’s. I was not expecting the Mexican version of Subway to have a quality chocolate chip cookie, but I was impressed.

Finally, in possibly the most unexpected place of all, Target. In their little “café” you can buy cookies baked that day. My friend Rob bought me one the other day and it was quality.

If you know of another place of equal or great chocolate chip quality, do tell. I’m always open to try something new.

YYYEEESSS!!!!!!!!!!

Paul's Blog

Try Paul's blog. You won't be sorry.

Paul Huyghebaert

This Road (part 3)

On Thursday I will be leaving for Nicaragua to take part in a medical mission. You can keep up with the trip by clicking the following post. Please be praying for us.

Mission Nicaragua 2006

This Road (part 2)

I hate hospitals.

As I descended down A-tower the elevator stopped about half way to the bottom floor. I was joined by a lady whom I can only assume was a young mother. She was crying. This was not a subtle melancholy. What I heard were the gut-wrenching sobs of loss. I’ve been in enough hospitals enough times to recognize this particular brand of agony.

I wanted to help. I wanted so badly to comfort her. I wanted to say something to let her know I understood her pain. But I couldn’t give comfort and I don’t understand her pain. As bad as I hate hospitals, as much as we’ve been through, and as much pain as I feel when we are confronted with Brendan’s heart illness, tomorrow I get to take him home. As bad as it gets, we are indeed richly blessed.

So, I said nothing. I had nothing to offer other than a silent prayer to the one who could help.

The second turn on this month long road-trip brings me to Columbus, Ohio. Another heart procedure behind us I sit and take stock of what is real. In times like these there are some truths that have brought me strength beyond measure.

I don’t know how anyone does this without family. Dana and I are both blessed by a devoted family and an extended spiritual family. The strength we draw from the love that comes from our church is difficult to quantify. To those who covered us in prayer and support, we are in your debt.

Brendan is the strongest person I know. The past two days had to be scary for him. He faced them with the courage of a warrior. With all the pride that only a Dad can truly feel, he is my hero.

Hospital food sucks. The stuff they brought Brendan to eat tonight was not fit for human consumption. I wouldn’t even feed it to the Imlay’s dogs (I’m not sure how this truth has brought me strength, but it feels good complaining about it).

I love my youth group and my youth volunteers. When we walked around the corner tonight to see RonJon, Emma Jo, Rob and Cory waiting in Brendan’s room it was difficult for me to hold back my emotion (at least until they started making fun of me, er, which really wasn’t that long after they arrived). The card we got from Amber was amazing. The calls, letters, and love that have been sent our way keep us going. I have the best job in the world.

People always ask how we do this. The answer I always give is, “God gives us the strength we need.” That strength shows up in many ways, but mainly through relationships, our friends, our family. We are blessed. There is a strength, a power in God’s family. I hope the lady in the elevator knows that strength.

This Road (part 1)

With a backpack, an i-pod, and a couple of hats in tow, I strike out on a familiar trip to be with my family for my Dad’s surgery. I’ve been so busy. The car provides an oasis of sorts, a resting place, a spot to cool down from the desert heat that has been my life. The singer songwriters fill the listening space in my car delivering thoughts both contemplative and ironic, like the town criers of old, like the ancient prophets spinning their own private brand of truth.

It is in these moments I realize I have spent my entire life traveling to Tennessee, but never really staying. Wherever I have lived I’ve always known the path back. I’m going today for my Dad’s surgery, but I’ll be back in a month for another reason. I used to think it was because I was meant to live there, like I had somehow I had missed my destiny, my one true love. Now I think it’s more about the trip back, or should I say the trip home if home can be a place I’ve never truly lived.

The reason for my trek this time is not an exciting proposition. Although this surgery is a long time coming, the idea of spending any more of my life in a hospital waiting for news is almost unbearable. If it will ease my Dad’s pain at all it will be worth it. It’s amazing how much a few seconds can change your life. Since the accident Dad as not been the same and in a way none of us have.

The surgery was planned to last several hours, but it has only lasted an hour and a half. The doctors told Dad he would be in the hospital for five days, but he is out in less than twenty-four hours. He should not be walking for days, so I guess it’s no surprise that he is walking me to my car to tell me goodbye.

The music on the way home is much more upbeat. Even though Dad is still in pain, there is now hope where there was none before, hope that he can move on from the tragedy that has affected us so. As I reach the place half way between home and home my thoughts turn to my family, to the love Dana and I have for Brendan, and to the uncertainty of the next part of this journey.

I love my life.

I rejoice in what is behind us, and praise God for the trials that are ahead. The strength of the embrace from my son as I walk in the door brings emotions for which I am not yet ready. He’s going to need that strength.

The First Annual Welty Family Reunion

This past weekend was the first time my immediate family had been together in one place at one time for a couple of years. I went into the weekend with some fear. As is the case with most families, we have our issues. But I came away from the weekend feeling relaxed and refreshed and generally felling pretty good about where are family is at this point. Here are some general impressions of the weekend.

For a family to remain close there has to be a spirit of mercy and forgiveness. If there had been an attempt to enumerate all of the things we had done to each other over the years, it would have taken a week. We all have things that we are not proud of. Especially me. The desire to let things go has overcome the instinct to hold a grudge for community to exist. The weekend was pretty much drama free, it was nice.

There were four ministers there. I am proud to be a part of a family that has that many ministers per capita.

My son Brendan and his cousin Tucker became fast friends. There were adventures and epic light-saber battles that are the stuff of legends. At one point in the weekend my sister found them standing on top of the Explorer. Not on the hood, on the top. When she told them to get down Brendan replied, “It’s my car.” It reminds me of the fun I had with my cousins over the years. I hope they remain friends and both grow up to be youth ministers.

We learned that Krystal is not a good idea when seventeen members of a family have to share a couple of bathrooms.

We also learned that laughter and prayer are the glue that holds families together. And churches for that matter.

Under Bridges

'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.' - Jesus Christ

I've heard a lot of people try to explain this statement by Jesus. But, the best presentation of this concept comes from the song Under Bridges. This guy in Mexico reminded me of why this really matters (you can click on the picture for a larger view).

Brave St. Saturn – Under Bridges

Yesterday while walking,
Beneath an overpass,
I saw the figure of Jesus,
Standing barefoot on broken glass.
His beard was graying,
The smell of urine filled the air,
Asking if I had some change,
Anything that I could spare.

Emaciated,
His shaking fists balled up,
Influenza and pneumonia,
Begging God to take his cup.
So different from his pictures,
Breathing air through yellowed tubes,
Jesus Christ, dying of AIDS,
Can look right through you.

And all have hated,
Crucified and walked away,
The Savior of the prostitutes,
Drunkards, rapists,
and the gays.

Under bridges,
With hands raised,
From the ghettos they praise his name.
Broke and crippled in the dark of night,
Raise your voices to Jesus Christ,
Hallelujah.

In a world where we have more and more difficulty loving those whom God would have us love these words cry out…it’s time to treat our Savior the way he deserves to be treated.

A Mental Vacation

Click on image for larger view.

The Last "Top Five" List (at least for a while)

Ok, I don’t want to go overboard on the whole “top five” list thing, but I was recently compelled to enumerate my favorite “Reality” television shows. So, I thought I would share them with the world. Not so much the world. Let me try again…so I thought I would share them with the half-a-dozen or so that actually read this drivel.

Anyway, The Top Five Reality Shows

#5 Super Nanny – This stuff doesn’t get old. Poor parenting is the curse of my generation. We should all have her on speed-dial.

#4 Trading Spaces – There is nothing better than someone coming home and hating their room. I don’t know what’s more compelling, when the couple tries to play it off like they don’t hate it or when there’s that awkward friendship ending stare-down at the end of the show.

#3 Real World v. Road Rules – I hate the drama. I hate the typical post-teen hedonism. But, the games are cool.

#2 Rock Star – It was like American Idol with attitude. I’ve never been a fan of INXS but it was fun watching the contestants play some songs I really love. Of course they chose the wrong guy. I think the second place guy could make an album with the house band and exceed a rapidly aging second-rate 80’s band.

#1 Breaking Bonaduce – No doubt about this one. There is nothing like seeing an alcoholic, steroid using, psychopath destroy his career and his family all in the name of entertainment. It’s like baseball season without the trouble of playing 162 games. I loved the Partridge Family. Who didn’t? I’m not saying I don’t feel for the guy, and most of the time it’s not easy to watch. I guess in the end I’m rooting for him to pull it together, but I’m not very confident.

Go Bucs

Meanderings of an ADD Mind

Well, the Gators got slapped around the field this weekend by Alabama. After such a depressing loss there’s only one thing I can say. Go Tampa Bay Bucs. At least one of my teams is still undefeated.

It makes a fellow think. I haven’t heard one thing about the Black Action Network or the Rainbow Coalition giving aid to New Orleans. All of the claims of racism by their leaders, but where are they – it’s all just talk. And who is left to pick up the pieces – the churches.

If the next presidential nomination to the Supreme Court is going to be filibustered no matter what, why not throw someone up there just right of Attila the Hun. That way the next guy or gal doesn’t look quite as bad.

I don’t know why youth ministers get the rap for being disorganized. We typically organize more events and trips that anyone else in the…er… has anyone seen my cell phone?

I have this reoccurring dream that I get to heaven and ask God what my purpose in life was. He quickly responds, “There was this boy at the carnival who was about to run over by the guy driving the kiddy train. If you wouldn’t have yelled ‘watch out’ he would have never gone on to be this great man of God.” In the dream I reply, “that was it?’ “Yup, everything else was just icing.”

I don’t believe most polls.

I wonder how much you should worry about your reputation. Last week I heard that I guy I really respected didn’t care much for me. It bothered me at first, then I realized I can’t think of one thing I’ve done to the guy. I don’t know, but I’m glad God shows more grace than many of his followers are willing to show.

There are times that I am reminded of why I chose ministry. I love being a youth minister. It’s working for a church that gets on my nerves.

Brendan told me this weekend that he wanted to go to New Orleans to help with the storm victims. Last week he gave up part of his allowance (unsolicited) to send it down there. Every parent thinks their kid is great, at least until they hit sixth grade. But, I am very proud of my kid.

Speaking of children – Matt McDowell is a father. The kid weighs four pounds and already knows three chords.