by | September 26, 2012 · 2:00 am

Appetite for Comfort

Comfort Food, That Is

There are some things in life that we always go back to when nothing else seems to do. It’s called comfort food.

Comfort food is the stuff that you want to eat when you’re depressed, when you’ve lost a limb, or when you’re girlfriend informs you that all along she has been an alien from Jupiter, and now she wants your brain to take back to her daddy.

Comfort food brings back fond memories of childhood and the “good-old-days” (unless you were a starving refugee), when Mom could make you feel better with nothing more than a spoonful of lard and some corn meal.

Comfort Central

Here in the southern United States we have a custom: when somebody dies, we eat.

Whenever a loved one passes away, bites the dust, or essentially assumes room temperature for an indefinite period of time, we trot them off to a funeral home, and then bring in every kind of unhealthy food imaginable. We all know that when one is suffering a terrible loss, comfort food will help dull the pain. And if nothing else, it will help you get to where your loved one is a little quicker than a salad will.

A typical southern funeral home has a dining area. This is where the family and friends can go when they are tired of standing around in the viewing room. They instinctively know that in that room is food which will make them feel better.

Serious Comfort

Well, not long ago my only blood-related uncle went home to be with the Lord. His body was taken to a funeral home in a place called Whitwell (pronounced “Wutwool“), Tennessee. And it was there that the funeral home staff did something that it does for all their families – serve homemade pinto beans.

Now, don’t be fooled, folks. These are not your ordinary beans. These are about the best pinto beans you will ever put in your ever-loving mouth! Served with some homemade cornbread, these beans made me tear up (no joke) as I remembered my granny, my dad, and a much, MUCH simpler life down on the river.

What makes these pintos so special is that they were soaked for 24 hours in water, then slow-cooked the next day in a crock pot with several slices of thick bacon. Of course, there’s more to it than that, but there are secrets to keep.

A Holy Command

Why do we prepare such food for funerals? Seriously? For one thing, sometimes it is hard to find the right words to say when someone is hurting. That’s when people do what they can, and many times the only thing they can do is prepare good food. Hurting people need to be cared for, and this is one way to show it.

Comforting one another is also something we are commanded to do. 1Thessalonians 5:11 tells us to “comfort yourselves together, and edify one another.” And speaking of the hope of resurrection we have in Christ, the Apostle Paul said in the same letter, “comfort one another with these words” (1 Thess. 4:8).

But what happens when words are hard to find? Make a pot of seriously savory pinto beans and cornbread. Tears of heartache may turn into tears of culinary joy.

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by | September 25, 2012 · 5:00 am

Curbed Appetite

New Stuff

I am always up for trying new foods. There is the expectation that comes with wondering what the first bite will taste like. Chicken?

Funny thing, I have eaten a lot of chicken in my day (Baptist preachers are known for that), but not all chicken tastes the same. So, when you hear somebody say, “It tastes like chicken,” remember some people like hard-boiled chicken fetus in the shell (Philippines).

Today’s post is going to include two “new things” from entirely different parts of the world (especially for me). And neither taste like chicken – I don’t think.

Maté

Last week my little girl brought home from Spanish class a little bowl and a bag full of marijuana. Not really!! It only looked like it. And it wasn’t in the bag, just the bowl that was supposed to be a cup.

According to my daughter, and her teacher, and YouTube, and Wikipedia, this was supposed to be a traditional Argentinian drink. A drink, they say, made from steeping dried leaves from the yerba mate plant (or tree) in hot water. I think they switched the yerba mate for grass clippings in the school playground.

Everything about this drink goes against what I practice. You are supposed to fill the cup nearly full with these tiny, crushed leaves, fill it with water, stick in a metal straw that can’t be washed, and drink from it as you pass it around to perfect strangers. What’s wrong with this picture?

What did it taste like? Nasty. They say it’s an acquired taste. I didn’t acquire it.

Sushi

OK, I know what you are thinking…”Anthony! Are you telling us you have never had sushi?” No, I am not going to tell you that. What I am going to tell you is that I never ate sushi that was real sushi and not those stupid California rolls.

Recently, because my daughter was broken-hearted after losing a volleyball game, I allowed myself to be suckered into going to a sushi bar. I think I would have rather gone to a “beer” bar. At least they would have had peanuts.

So, after deciding to let her pick, we ended up with what you see. We got raw Salmon, raw Yellow Tail, and  a Dragon Roll.

Why do people eat this stuff? Is there something in the psyche of some people that makes them want to go out and hunt another creature down like a true predator? Do they really enjoy biting into the cold, sticky flesh of dead sea creature? Haven’t they ever heard of Captain D’s?

Sorry, folks. That was my last time. My mouth tasted like I had licked a trot line for the next day and a half.

Real Food

So, after we left the sushi place, I took the girls one block down and got a hot dog at Good Dog, another North Shore Art District tree-hugger hangout. After eating the foo foo fish, I needed man food

What you see here is a naturally cased, baked bean, slaw, and red onion covered Boston Dog.

You can keep the squid bait.

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by | September 24, 2012 · 12:30 am

Anthony’s Appetite Gone Berzerk

All at Once

I have so much to do this week, it isn’t even funny. I am SOOO far behind in my seminary work, it will be a seminary miracle if I get it all done in time (and get a decent grade). Therefore, this will be the last post I publish this week.

So, instead of making a “Monday Monkey,” I am switching things up a bit and doing an expanded “Anthony’s Appetite.” Yep, in this post I am going to tell you about a bunch of stuff I have consumed. Then I can delete the pictures off my phone.

But Wait!

I don’t have to do it all in one, long post, do I? I could spread the culinary joy out over several posts and schedule them to post without me being here! Cool!

Ah, the wonders of modern technology.

Start With Coffee

Let’s start with a great place to have coffee and the coffee that they serve.

The Stone Cup Roasting Company is a great coffee bar in the North Shore Art district of Chattanooga (i.e., tree hugger land).

Believe it or not, folks, there are better places to have coffee than Starbucks. As a matter of fact, I would rather have a cup of instant coffee than a cup of Starbucks’ regular blend.

The Stone Cup is one of several good coffee places in Chattanooga. And like all the really good places, they roast their own beans, so Stone Cup’s coffee tastes different from other places (especially Starbucks).

French Press

I don’t know if you have ever had coffee made in a French press, but you need to. Here you can see that when I ordered a French press, they actually gave me my own press to watch as the timer crept toward 4 minutes.

Unlike filtered coffee, pressed coffee retains all the oils that otherwise get trapped in the filter. The result is a rich, flavorful beverage that is smooth and intense, but not any “stronger” than regular coffee. It just tastes better.

Espresso

Now, I have had several espressos at Starbucks and other places. This espresso was just plain wonderful. It was not bitter, but creamy and intoxicating.

And what’s more, the little cups that they serve their espresso in sure beats the little paper cups.

Let’s Visit

If you are ever in Chattanooga and have a few minutes to just sit and sip, call me up. We could go get a cup of joe at the Stone Cup. We could sit inside and look at original art, or go outside on the balcony and talk theology, legalism, or grace.

You can buy, of course.

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by | September 19, 2012 · 9:56 am

Crazy Statements

Things I’ve Heard

I know you have heard crazy things that people say, even though the people saying those things think what they are saying is brilliant. Here are just a few that I have heard…

– “If you don’t stop crying, I’m gonna give you something to cry about.” Really? If I was already crying, did I not have something to cry about?

– “It’s pretty complicated until you understand it, then it’s pretty simple.” I literally heard a nursing instructor say this to a student as I was walking through a hospital.

– “If we just keep flying the fuel will burn off and then it will level out.” O. K. Yep, that’s a great idea. And that is exactly what my father-in-law told me after we had taken on fuel and were flying funny.

– “If you want to learn to swim, just jump in.” As much as I loved my dad, I never understood the logic of that one.

– “How are you doing today?” Well, if I was asked that question on a street corner, or in the middle of nowhere, I might understand. But when I am asked that question by a doctor while I am lying on an emergency room table, what am I supposed to say, “Fine?” Typically I say, “Well, if I were doing well I wouldn’t be here, now would I?”

The Craziest of All (at least recently)

But recently I have been hearing a crazy statement being uttered by seemingly thoughtful and intelligent Americans. They say it like it is supposed to make sense, but it doesn’t. They think it is a statement which exhibits wisdom, moral clarity, and profundity on the level of King Solomon himself.

Maybe you have heard it. Maybe you have even been tricked into saying it. Maybe, without you knowing it, aliens implanted little devices in your brain while you were sleeping, so you can’t help yourself. It goes like this…

“I refuse to vote, because voting for the lesser evil is still voting for evil; therefore, if the greater evil wins, at least my conscience will be clear, because I did not vote for either.”

Save yourself! Seek help, immediately! Making crazy statements like this could be a sign that your brain is shutting down.

“All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.”

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by | September 17, 2012 · 9:31 am

Monday Monkey “Happy Birthday” (Episode 30)

Woo Hoo! Happy Birthday!

Yep, it’s my birthday. I am 45 years old. 45 years ago one woman was given the honor to be my mother.

Will there be cake? I don’t know. Will there be presents? I don’t know. Will there be donations sent in from around the world to the Keep Anthony from Being Poor fund? I don’t know.

What Matters

Aside from a loving family and a roof over my head, what more could I ask for? Riches? No. A new car? Uh, no. I think I have been pretty blessed. And what’s more, I have something that no one else in the world has…

I have a monkey that can sing “happy birthday” to me.

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by | September 16, 2012 · 3:04 pm

You Might Be a Sinner If…

I’m a Redneck

Yes, I confess. I am a redneck, especially considering how burned my neck is after standing out in the sun for five+ hours. Which leads me to ask a question of myself…why do I never remember sun screen unless I go to a beach?

And I also know that I am a redneck because Jeff Foxworthy told me so. If you remember, Foxworthy’s comic routine made famous the line, “You might be a redneck.” Here are some that I know have applied to me at least once over the 45 years of my life (as of tomorrow, the 17th).

You might be a redneck if…

  • You read the Auto Trader with a highlight pen.
  • Every socket in your house breaks a fire code.
  • The taillight covers of your car are made of red tape.
  • Directions to your house include “Turn off the  paved road.”
  • Going to the bathroom at night involves shoes and a  flashlight.
  • You use the term `over yonder’ more than once a month.

I’m a Sinner

Unlike a whole lot of people in this world (and in a world of their own), I can admit that I am a sinner. The only difference is that once I confessed my inability to change my nature, I traded my “filthy rags” for the imputed righteousness of Jesus Christ (Philippians 3:9). Now, I’m still a sinner, but I’m am a saved sinner.

So, based on the actions of Adam and Eve in the third chapter of Genesis, I took a cue from Jeff Foxworthy and came up with my own list of “you might be’s.” From that list I preached a message entitled “You Might Be a Sinner If…”

You might be a sinner if…

  •   You have ever talked to a Serpent – and taken its advice (v. 2).
  •   You know the difference between “Naked” and “Necked” (v. 7). Side Note: If you consider fig leaves appropriate attire, you might be a sinner.
  •  You feel like running when the law shows up (v. 8).
  •  God is searching for you, and not the other way around (v. 9).
  •  You feel self-conscious or defensive about anything you’ve ever done (v. 9-10).
  •  You ever play the “blame game” – Others, “The devil made me do it” (v. 11-13).
  •  You were born (Romans 5:12).

Change of Status

Some people try on their own to change their status in life. Sometimes rednecks move away from Redneckville in order to become a different person. But what they find out is that Redneckville never left their heart. They still have those same desires to grill Spam and fish with dynamite.

In the same way, many people think, once they finally realize they are sinners, that change can come with a simple change of atmosphere, or the turning over of a new fig leaf.

The fact is that sinners don’t become “saints” on their own. It takes outside intervention.

If we confess with our sins, he is faithful to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. – 1 John 1:9

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by | September 15, 2012 · 8:24 pm

Block Party 2012

What is Evangelism?

I know a whole lot of Christians who would disagree with what we did at Riverside Baptist, today. They would say, “You never preached, handed out a tract, or sang a gospel song. You call this outreach?”

Why, yes I do.

You see, there are many in the Church who think that there is only one way to evangelize the lost and reach the back-slidden. They would never even consider having  an event where no one preached, handed out literature, or did a mock hell pit with straw-men torches. They would consider our event a failure.

But what is evangelism? Is there only one way of reaching people with the gospel? Is there only one way to show people you care about them?

An Old Adage

Painting faces.

I believe it was Zig Ziglar who said, “People will never care what you know until they know how much you care.” That is the absolute truth, too. And that was the mission of our block party.

There are so many who are not in church simply because they feel unloved and unwanted. They think that all Christians want to do is take up offerings and sing old hymns. The last thing they ever think is that we are real people who really care about their lives. If they could only know that we care, they might want to hear what we believe.

Instructions

As pastor of Riverside, I gave instructions to all who were to participate at this event. I did my best to make it perfectly clear what was expected of each of us.

  • Kids in a fire engine.

    First, this was not to be a church service. We invited people to a party, not communion.

  • Secondly, everything was to be free. No asking for donations. No admission. No charge for “stuff” that was done.
  • Next, it didn’t matter who showed up, they were to be talked to and befriended. I asked all of my congregation to show up, if for no other reason than to just sit and talk. People like to sit and talk about their lives to somebody who actually listens – and cares.
  • Have fun without any expectations.

This event was to be a seed-planting event. It was to be a time to let the community know that we are here. It was to be a time to let the Holy Spirit work through us in the way that we cared.

The Results

Eating inside where it was cool.

My legalistic friends (do I have any legalistic friends?) might like to ask me how things turned out. I am sure they would want to know how many got saved. I am sure that they would love to ask me at what point I stood up and shared the gospel with all the visitors. I am sure that they would love to point out that this event was a failure, since there was not one conversion.

I would totally disagree.

Our little church had scores of people show up today. Many of them did not attend any church. How do I know that? Because they told me so. They filled out cards in order to register for genuinely nice door prizes.

I got to talk with one young mother who wanted to go to church, but thought people would make fun of her tattoos.

I spoke with a young mother of four who wanted to go to church, but felt that her life was too messed up. Oh, really? I told her we would love to have her. I told her about how God’s grace and forgiveness was there for her.

The Expectations

What do I expect? I expect to see visitors at church in the morning. I expect our members to come to church tired, but with a feeling of hope. I expect people to show up that didn’t even come to the block party (because that’s how God works).

Smiling coming and going.

I expect kids on my bus to mention to their families that their bus driver is a preacher, but he is cool.

I expect people who never talked about this little church to talk about this little church and say, “Hey, those people are really nice. Why don’t we go hear that guy preach?”

I expect more things to come.

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by | September 12, 2012 · 1:23 pm

NBC: “We Will Re-mam-ber”

Thank You

I just want to thank the Today Show and NBC for focusing on the more important things in this world. Not being pressured, the Today Show stood firm in its resolve to raise breast implant awareness to the position it deserves.

At 8:46 am on the day when everyone else in New York were observing a moment of silence, you were anything but silent. And because of your voice, your interview with Kris Jenner is firmly implanted in our minds.

Even though it is important to remember such a traumatic date as 9/11, you felt it was more important (paraphrasing Jenner) “to remind women that, you know, check your expiration date.”

The Message

While President Obama and the First Lady were standing in silence; while families of those who were killed bowed their heads; while first responders stood quietly remembering their fallen comrades; you reminded us that fallen comrades and family members, even fallen buildings, are not as important as the cure for fallen breasts.

Eleven years ago on September 11th, the world gasped as they witnessed the horror of Islamic terrorism bringing America to her knees. Each year after that we have been remembering the very moment when the first plane hit the World Trade Center. But you, oh herald of all things truly relevant, made the decision to speak out during the silence. How brilliant!

Now, instead of fallen heroes, we are focused on fallen breasts. Instead of the tears of a nation, we will remember the clear silicone that is close to so many hearts. And instead of the faces of those lost on that tragic day, we will now remember the face of the reality TV star who was brave enough to talk about her expansions.

Thank you, Today Show and NBC, for preaching the mammary message we all need to hear – “Towers may fall, but boobs don’t have to.”

Don’t worry, NBC, we WILL remamber!

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by | September 11, 2012 · 12:30 am

Where Were You

Eleven Years Ago

Where were you eleven years ago on the morning of September 11th? Do you remember? I do.

That morning I was driving a school bus in Hopkinsville, Kentucky. I will never forget going to my car after parking my bus, then turning on the radio to listen to Bob and Tom, a morning radio show.

Normally, the radio program was constant joking around, funny comedy bits, and crazy songs (My wife usually griped at me for listening to them). That morning, when I cranked my car and turned on the radio, there was something different in Bob and Tom’s voices. They weren’t laughing. They weren’t joking. Something had happened, and they were not quite sure what it was. An accident?

The Television

I turned off my car, walked quickly across a gravel parking lot, and went into the office where a crowd of other drivers were not gathered. They were all looking up at a little 12 inch television in the mounted in the corner of the room.

Smoke was coming from one of the Twin Towers. People were wondering what in the world could have happened. Then they showed a second plane hit. The world changed.

It was while I was watching that little television that I realized life would never be the same. I walked out of the office, in a daze, sick at my stomach, thinking about what I had just witnessed. I started to cry.

That Afternoon

My was at home in bed with a migraine. She wasn’t watching TV, so she had no clue what was going on. I opened the door to the bedroom and said, “Valerie! Dad-gum it! You’re sleeping through history!!” Frankly, she wasn’t very happy me or my volume.

Things changed so quickly, especially after the other attacks and the collapse of the towers. Hopkinsville was right next to Fort Campbell, the home of the 101st Airborne. Just a few days before all that had been necessary to get past the guard and on base was a drivers license. The laid-back soldiers at the guard posts, armed only with a pistol, would politely wave you through and wish you a good day. That afternoon non-essential personnel were prohibited from passing through the gates, and at each post there stood soldiers in body armor and armed with automatic assault weapons. Each had orders to shoot.

There were 40,000 (est.) soldiers (not counting family) on base at Ft. Campbell, and more living in either Hopkinsville, KY, or Clarksville, TN. Many of those soldiers and their families went to churches in our town. Their children went to school on our buses. That afternoon the buses were almost empty.

I was glad. I was sick. I couldn’t focus on much. I was constantly fighting back tears.

That Night

That night was a night of contemplation, of prayer. That night brought a swell of patriotism. That night turned many peaceful people into would-be warriors. That night America wanted revenge. That night I didn’t sleep well.

That night I looked up into the night sky, to the heavens, to pray. There were no red or white blinking lights, only stars. God had our attention that night. But that was then.

Where were you? Where are you now?

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by | September 10, 2012 · 12:16 am

Monday Monkey “Monkeys Hate Alarm Clocks” (Episode 29)

Keeping With the Times

Yes, in keeping with the “times,” I have produced another video with a clock in it. The last one I made stirred up a long string of comments and heated debate.

Maybe the atheists will approve of this one. (insert winking smiley face)

Oh! I almost forgot! Check out my daughter Katie’s photo blog, Shutter Elf. She is a great little photographer, and she is responsible for a couple of shots in the video.

Disclaimer

No monkeys, whether alive or not, were harmed during the making of this video. Also, no hammers were harmed in the making of the video, either.

“Monkeys Hate Alarm Clocks”

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