I was driving to the Eugene Airport to pick up a friend, when I saw a guy carrying a cross.  My first instinct was to do a double take…and say under my breath “Jesus?”

On closer examination, he did not appear to be THE JESUS, but rather a man in his mid-50’s, wearing a yellow polo shirt, and shorts.  He had thinning grey hair, and glasses.  Oh, and he was white. 

Somehow, my almost encounter with Jesus got me thinking.  When I do see Jesus will I recognize him immediately?  I wonder if many of us will be shocked when we are face to face with him. 

I am always surprised by the passage in scripture that talks about him having no beauty, that we would be attracted to him.  It seems to imply that he was rather physically ordinary…maybe even slightly unattractive, or even more heretical, what if Jesus was”ugly?”

Would his message be less important?  Would his sacrifice mean less?  Would his love be any less amazing?  Today my daughter and I were in the mall.  There was an older lady who was smiling at her with a less than perfect set of teeth. 

While I began to compartmentalize her importance into neat little boxes, my precious daughter waved to her.  I think my daughter saw Jesus.  So did I.

The hardest part about finding a new church is that you can never agree on all the things you like and dislike.  My wife likes upbeat music, I like exegetic preaching, Nicki likes toys. 

This week we’ll begin our journey into the adventure of Church shopping.  For the past decade I have been on staff at a church, and therefore obligated to be present at the job site.  Now with all this freedom, I have no idea what to do. 

I asked my wife, Holly, where she wanted to go this week, and she offered the sanctuary of her soft comfy bed.  Heathen.  I must admit, the idea does have a certain appeal, but it will not suffice for the long haul. 

So I’m making a list.  That’s what I do.  I make lists.  Often when I stumble across a past list, it is embarrassing to find I have usually accomplished 2 out of the 37 things written down.  Nevertheless, lists are my method of operation.

So here is what I have so far:

1.  Must have windows (No offense to the JW’s…especially to my 2 friends, Steve and Wayne).
2.  Must wear clothes (this shouldn’t be that difficult to find).
3.  More people must be nice to us, than are rude to, or glare, at us.
4.  At the first sign of an 80’s rock band, and we’re leaving.
5.  Find a church where the adults like to hang out with kids (good luck).
6.  Must have comfortable seating.
7.  Likes to do cool things for hurting people.
8.  In love with Jesus.
9.  Knows what a PowerPoint is.
10.  Must have a good sense of humor, enjoy good music, and like long walks on the beach.

We used to do staff meetings in our pastor’s office.  For years we would gather in this space, and listen to what sounded like an elephant parade passing by overhead.  There is a preschool enrichment program that used the space directly above the office. 

We would all pretend like we couldn’t hear the stomping.  Everyone acted like they were paying attention to whoever was speaking as the procession went by, but there is no way any of us actually were.  It was impossible to tune out the drum pounding, jumping, and screeching that descended from on high.

Yet we continued to meet in this office every Tuesday morning, until one day we were forced out by a very fortunate mistake.  Someone had double booked the office for another appointment, leaving us with the option of claiming our rights as the high and mighty staff or relocating to another area.  Since none of us were in love with the meeting area to begin with, we opted for a seemingly generous retreat.

We found a nice quiet area away from the day care center…and from that day on we never went back.  It’s odd that we all acknowledged the problem of our outlandishly obnoxious meeting space, but no one had thought to suggest an alternative.  It took a minor inconvenience to help us find a very simple solution. 

The moral of the story is, if your office has parades running across the floor above, find a different place to meet.  If you have real elephants, you should probably call animal control or hunters.  In our case neither of these options seemed like a good fit.

I am a disgrace to the profession of youth ministry.  Tonight our church staff threw me and my family a going away party.  Towards the end of the night our host invited us down into the basement for some foosball action. 

I hate this game, mainly because I’m terrible at it.  We played three games, each time rotating partners, and somehow in each game I ended up on the losing team. 

I would like to blame it on the referees, but there weren’t any.  I’d like to cry foul and say that the National Foosball League was fixing games to boost ratings, but I don’t think that theory would float. 

I am resigned to the fact that unlike most of my youth ministry comrades, I cannot put foosball as a skill on my job resume.  Speaking of skills we were discussing some crazy foosball videos on YouTube that I had to find, and share with you.  Enjoy.

If your name is Oprah Winfrey, Barack Obama, Hillary Clinton, George W. Bush, or Tom Cruise this blog is not about you. 

If your name is Jesus Christ, Buddha, Gandhi or Tom Cruise this particular post is not about you either.

If your name is Rob Bell, Rick Mckinley, or Joel Osteen I know that you are kind of a big deal.  However, this blog is not about you today.

It is all about me.  I am the most ajklReuOKLFIFOJEH… Whoops sorry about that. 

My daughter is fighting me for control of the keyboard.  I keep telling her this computer is MINE.  I have tried to explain how very busy, and important, and respected I am.  But she insists on using all 20 pounds of her body weight to push me out of the way. 

Well this was supposed to be all about me, but in Nicki’s world there’s only room for her…and at the moment, the Veggie Tales songs that I (as her employee) am obligate to play on “her” computer.

Like Disneyland, Vacation Bible School (VBS) is a magical time in the lives of small children.  The week is filled with fun adventures of treasure hunting, hot air balloons, or whatever the theme that year happens to be.  There are crafts, and puppets, and skits — Oh my!

It’s not just fun for the kids either.  No, we adults enjoy this almost as much as the little ones.  If I were to dawn a cape and blowdryer, and call myself appliance man for any other reason, you would send me to the looney bin.  But on VBS week anything goes (as long as it fits the theme).

If your role is one of the more prestigeous, like actor extrordinaire…then kids will remember you for years.  I still have kids calling me “Cowboy Bob, Dr. Daring, and Mister Moral.”  

It is the greatest ego boost ever.  For weeks kids come up and hug me, and say “I love you, General Jeremy.” 

It doesn’t get much better than that.   

Sometimes when I hadn’t planned anything stellar for Sunday School we would take kids over to the nursing home next door.  This is something that my grandmother did with me, and I wanted to pass this experience onto them. 

For some reason teens serving elderly never quite works out the way you envision it.  On one ocassion we sat down with a lady who told them all about her life during the depression, and world war II.  Kids were enthralled.  Then she began to tell them about a gentlemen caller she was very “familiar” with, and I felt it was time to move along.

During the holidays we took some of the residents candle decorations the teens had made.  Some of the crafts looked like they were made with great care, and others were, to be honest, hideous.  The kids did a really good job of holding in their laughter as one recipient began sipping her candle like a drink. 

Even though at these moments you question the effectiveness of teen-elderly ministry, there are also moments that remind you it’s worth it.  After one visit, a teenage girl ask if she could start visiting the residence on her own time.  What, like I’m gonna say no to that?