Entertainment Value

image by Sammy-Sander on Pixabay

“You’re not boring; you’re entertaining.”

I apologized to our teenage guest at the end of our visit. Even with those twinkling eyes smiling at me, the reply I got was a little unexpected.

Surrounded by aging adults, the youngster had endured the dinner with grace.  And yet, the discussion of hospital visits and doctor’s appointments, along with a drawn out semi-argument about the location of long-defunct grocery stores and ancient history had to have been wearing to a member of this generation steeped in technology and media connectivity.

I will admit the high-schooler’s reaction to finding out that the old Piggly-Wiggly grocery store in our town had morphed into a current-day funeral home was delightful.  I’ve always found it amusing, to say the least, and was happy to have that opinion shared by one so young.

The idea of a Piggly-Wiggly funeral home does set off the giggle reflex, doesn’t it?

I’m still wondering about the entertainment value of a group of old people sitting around a dinner table, though. 

Perhaps, even more than that, I’m wondering if it’s important for us to be aware of how attractive (or, entertaining) we are to folks who are watching.

I’ve been in church all of my life.  I’ve listened to thousands of sermons.  When I was a kid, there were three to listen to every Sunday.  And, one on Wednesday.

I’ve heard my share of boring preachers.  Some of them would use the scripture that Paul the Apostle wrote about folks with “itching ears” as a rationalization for the dryness of the message.

For a time is coming when people will no longer listen to sound and wholesome teaching. They will follow their own desires and will look for teachers who will tell them whatever their itching ears want to hear.
(2 Timothy 4:3, NLT)

Except, that verse has nothing to do with instructing people to make their conversation (or sermon) dry and boring to avoid error.  It’s talking about people who insist that their teachers and pastors teach them the things they want to hear.  They want to hear their own opinions coming from the mouths of the people to whom they listen.

Sounds familiar, even in this age, doesn’t it?

It can apply to those who move to a new church every time a pastor expresses a thought they don’t agree with.  Or, it can pertain to college students who protest against speakers they think they detest. It’s a common disease among humankind.

But if we insist our teachers teach with dry, lifeless words, we’ll lose our audience. Either they won’t come to our next dinner (or church service), or they’ll zone out while we speak.

Or, like that fellow Eutychus in the Bible, they may simply fall asleep. (Acts 20:7-12)

After supper, the Apostle (who may actually have believed in dry, boring talks) decided that since it was his last night in town, he’d preach a little longer sermon.  Past midnight, he droned on!

Eutychus, poor boy, fell asleep long enough to be included in the text we still read today.  While he napped, he slid off his window seat, falling to his death on the ground, three stories below.  

Paul, hurrying down with the crowd, lifted him up, telling them the boy wasn’t dead, and they went back upstairs where, of all things, Paul continued to talk until the sun came up in the morning!

I like to imagine that, after the intermission, the folks there listened more closely.  Whether the Apostle’s delivery was more lively and engaging, I don’t know.  But, they were motivated to listen! 

Talk about entertaining!

A boy had been brought back to life!  Besides the joy and relief,  it would be a living reminder to stay alert, one would think.

Clearly, the lines above about the Apostle Paul’s teaching were written a little tongue-in-cheek.  We really don’t know if he was a boring speaker or an entertaining one.

Still, even my old Bible professor friend, the esteemed Dr Andrew Bowling, used to say to his students, “If you talk for half an hour and haven’t hit oil, quit boring.”

I may take his advice in another line or two.

Entertaining is better than boring, especially if people are paying attention to what we have to say.  As long as what we’re saying is not just tickling their itchy ears.

And, if it keeps them awake.

 

“Just as it is written and forever remains written, ‘How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news of good things!’”
(Romans 10:15, AMP)

“Tell the stories!  Use words that are accurate and attractive.  Put them to music, rhyme the syllables, and give them rhythm.  Paint them on a canvas, or carve them in stone. Tell the stories!”
(from The Storyteller, by Paul Phillips)

 

© Paul Phillips. He’s Taken Leave. 2024. All Rights Reserved.

Message from a Hypocritical Fake

It’s kind of hard for Mom to see the road when she has tears in her eyes.

Our house guests had been gone not even an hour when the text arrived on my phone.  I laughed.  And then, I wiped the tears from my own eyes. 

As we hugged and said our goodbyes that morning, the girls’ mom mentioned how sad it had been for her to be packing.  I understood.  Their days had been full of old friends and swimming, of family gatherings and sleep-overs.  They were leaving to go hundreds of miles away.

It is sad.  But, I have to tell you—it’s also joyful.

It’s what happens when we love people.

The homecomings are all laughter and excitement, the separation, tears and sadness.

In between, the sweet times of fellowship are a delight; the distance of disagreement—heartbreak.

Love keeps us coming back.  Again and again, the cycle is repeated.  

Joy, sadness.  Smiles, tears.

I know.  It’s hokey.  Sentimental slop.

But, that’s life.

Life is hokey.  It’s mushy.  It’s sloppy.

It’s horribly messy.  Horribly.

But, I’ll say this:  Better are tears wiped from the eyes while driving away than the voice of regret for never having come.

The memories of times, happy or sad, spent with loved ones are infinitely more to be treasured than the times passed in self-centered pursuits.  When, in the passing years, we sit and speak of the good times, we will remember occasions filled with voices and faces, laughter and tears.

The time we share with people is precious; hours wasted in the dark and quiet are hardly remembered at all, save with regret.

One could read the words I’ve scattered on this page and nod his or her head in affirmation, agreeing completely about time spent with family.  And yet, I stopped talking about family quite a way up the page.

The statement was: It’s what happens when we love people.  

Sad.  Joyful.

People.  

Family.  Neighbors.  Strangers.  Enemies.

People.

Being a writer, and working to make my articles more accessible has led me to visit and read more divergent views of faith and life than I once did.  There is a recent theme that has disappointed me, even worried me.

Why I Ditched the Church Scene (and why you should, too).

Folks who have been hurt, or seen sin in the lives of others, or had disagreements with leaders, are leaving the church in droves.  They are not going out to start a new fellowship.  They are ditching church altogether.

I wonder.  

I’ve said it before myself.  I don’t want to go to church today.

And, I will admit here for the first time publicly, in my head I have said it differently.  I don’t want to go to church ever again.

Not ever.

Do you know why I keep going to church, with all those hypocrites and fakes—with all those sinners?

They need me.  

pebbles-56435_640No, not because I’m so holy.  Not because I’m so wise.  They need me because I’ve got some rough edges that can bump against the rough edges they bring with them each week.  (Hebrews 10:24-25)

This hypocritical fake, who still has a problem with sin, loving them can do what humanity is intended to do.  Help them to be better people.

Help me to be a better person.

Is the church full of two-faced fakes?

Duh!

So is my music store.  So is the restaurant where I break bread.  So is the university where you got your degree.  We interact with them in those places, as well.

We are all flawed.  We all need help.

God gives it in the form of other flawed, helpless humans.  If we abandon them, we serve only ourselves.

And, in the end, if we serve only ourselves, we harm everyone.

Will there be tears?

Will there be unhappiness?

It is a certainty.  

What is also certain is that as we live in community, we learn to be the men and women God intended for us to be.

From each other.  By being with each other.

I said there will be tears and unhappiness.  There will also be great joy and celebration.

It’s what happens when we love people.

And God.

Some day, He’ll wipe those tears away Himself.  (Revelation 21:4)

For now, I’ve got a sleeve I can wipe them on.

 

 

 

Don’t cry because it’s over.  Smile because it happened.
(Anonymous ~ attributed to Dr. Seuss ~ American author ~  1904-1991)

 

 

 

Let us think of ways to motivate one another to acts of love and good works.  And let us not neglect our meeting together, as some people do, but encourage one another, especially now that the day of his return is drawing near.
(Hebrews 10:24-25 ~ NLT)

 

 

 

© Paul Phillips. He’s Taken Leave. 2016. All Rights Reserved.