Suit? Check.
White shirt? Check.
Out of style tie? Check.
KJV? Uncheck. I couldn’t seem to find one so I had to grab another version off my shelf.

Other than the Bible faux-pas I am perfectly disguised as a fundy. Since my Bible is in a cover there is little chance that my cover will be blown. I am ready to enter the heart of California fundydom-Lancaster Baptist Church.

I arrive barely in time due to a GPS that actively plots against me. I had a bit of trouble finding a parking space. Eventually a man directing traffic directed me to park in the area reserved for senior citizens. The service is scheduled to begin at 11:00 AM. No Sunday School or evening service is scheduled.

First impressions: Wow! This place is like Grand Central Station at rush hour. I have a hard time squeezing through. Why is it whenever there is a crowd of people trying to reach a doorway there is always some oblivious muggins who will stand in said doorway and have a conversation with their equally oblivious friends?

I am wished Merry Christmas between 8 and 10 times before I find the restroom. I am offered a bulletin 3 or 4 times. People stop me and shake my hand and welcome me to the service.

An usher offers to help me find a seat and I accept his help. The auditorium at service time:

The auditorium is decorated for Christmas. A large, wrapped box is set on the platform behind the pulpit. There are trees and wreaths everywhere.

The service:

Opening hymn: Joy to the World. Lancaster projects the hymns onto large screens.

Special music: 8 boys and 8 girls of about ten years of age file onto the platform. Each of them holds a separate microphone. They each hold it in their right hand. Each one holds it at the exact same angle while their left arm hangs unmoving at their sides. I am distracted by this and forget to write the song name down.

Time to greet the visitors! We are instructed to turn around and wish someone we don’t know “Merry Christmas”. Dutifully I turn around and for the first time notice that my old fundy Mog from TN is seated two rows behind me. My cover is blown! He looked as happy to see me as I was to see him. The rest of the greeting time was taken up with awkward small talk. “Fancy seeing you out here” & “How long are you staying?” etc.

Another special: Teenagers this time. 13 of them and they all hold their microphones in their right hands and keep their left arms rigid at their sides. The song is called “Distant Voice”. I had never heard it before.

Time for the next hymn: “I Heard The Bells On Christmas Day” (a carol of unimpeachable Biblicalness) We make it through the first verse okay but on the second verse things derail. The verse on the screens is very different from what the director is singing. He stops and laughs about the mix-up. He tells us to grab a hymnal and to turn to page 172. He starts off singing the second verse again while we in the audience stare blankly at whichever hymn was written on page 172. The director realizes that he got the page number out of a different hymnbook. He then asks for someone to shout out the correct page number. Instead someone shouts out “That song isn’t in this hymnbook”. To his credit the director laughs and says “Well I guess this has been pretty much a trainwreck”.

We are then instructed to fill out the Visitor/Members Card. Visitors are told to include whatever information we feel comfortable sharing. I opt for Name and City. Strangely, members are all instructed to fill one out as well. They are told to just write their name.

Another special. This time it is a young men’s quartet. Of course they hold the microphones in what I presume must be the only way allowed in the church bylaws. “It Is About the Cross”. I miss the message of the song because I am wondering whether I should even take notes since I am left-handed. Perhaps I will be escorted from the premises under armed guard.

Video: They show a short video telling the Christmas story. It paraphrases Bible verses as part of the flow of the story. However, the verses sound strangely non-KJV as a result.

The Main Event: (I only wish I were ringside instead of in the cheap seats)

Preacher: Paul Chappell.

Text: Luke 2:1-7. (Of course)
Theme of the message: Joy at Christmas

I. Joy in His Providence.
A. He Originated History.
Isaiah 7:14, Proverbs 21:1
a. He Prophesied.
b. He Performed. I Timothy 3:16, I Peter 1:9-11
B. He Orquestrated History.
Quote: History is His-story!
Jeremiah 1:12
1. Political Structures.
Some jokes about paying taxes. Apparently leaves his notes and starts talking about Caesar Augustus. Says that Caesar Augustus was the son of Octavian Caesar. (No. They are the same person) He puts a map up on the screen of ‘The Holy Land in the time of Christ’. Oddly, the modern country of Jordan is clearly marked on the map.Chappell seems to realize that he is rearranging Roman and Middle-Eastern history and decides to return to the beaten path.
2. Perplexing Problems.
Romans 8:28.

(My hand is already cramping)(I had surgery recently and I am starting to be in pain so I pop a pain pill)

II. Joy In His Presence.

A. The Place Was Determined. John 6:32-35
Joke: Why was Jesus born in Bethlehem? Because that is where his mother was!
B. The Saviour Was Delivered. (Yes, KJV spelling was used)
I John 4:9
More Jokes: Why were the first gifts not wrapped? Because the givers were wise and they were men!
Shows photo of a manger.
Yet Another Joke: Tells about a little boy who asks if he can be the lion in the Nativity play. When asked why he responds “You know, the lion (lying) in the manger”.

(At this point the kindly gentleman beside me leans over and points out that the entire sermon outline is included in the bulletin. Boy do I feel stupid.)

What follows is a weird addition. It seems like it was dropped in at the last minute. It doesn’t seem to naturally fit into the sermon. In the bulletin it is a shaded box that sets it apart from the rest of the sermon.

There Was No Room For Him in the Inn.

The Material Man Has No Room.
Mark 8:36
References the War on Christmas.
The Intellectual Man Has No Room.
I Corinthians 1:18-19
The Religious Man Has No Room.
John 1:10-12

Time for a fish story: Years ago (in a galaxy far, far away) Chappell went out ‘door-knocking’ (That phrase could be mistaken for a euphemism). He met a very religious lady who believed very strongly in the works that her false church taught. (He never says which false church) He climbs up on the staircase and tells her to imagine the building were on fire and asks her how he could be saved from the flames. She responds that she would have to jump. The story ends with her being saved and the audience gives the obligatory ‘Amen’ upon hearing this. How this actually happens must have been edited out.

(FYI prescription narcotics make fundydom much more entertaining but even less intelligible than normal)

III. Joy in His Provision.

A. A Personal Presentation. Romans 1:3, Philippians 2:5-8
Quote: “The life of our Lord is marked by the Virgin’s womb and the empty tomb. He came into the world through a door marked ‘No Entrance’ and left through one marked ‘No Exit’!
(Other than making Jesus sound like a boor who disregards signs I am not sure what this means) (I find this quote vaguely creepy but I can’t quite put my finger on why)

B. A Spiritual Presentation. Romans 1:4, Colossians 2:9, Luke 1:32
Quote: “Christmas is not about presents but about His presence”

Conclusion:
Salvation appeal. Talks about Black Friday and people hurting and stabbing each other over shoes. Quote “A few years ago people were stabbing each other over Cabbage Patch dolls”. (Breaking News: Sting just left The Police)

Stand. Bow head. Close eyes. (I don’t think the order matters but I always do it in the order commanded)

Invitation song: ‘Have Your Way Lord’

Two people were baptized.

Video about upcoming attractions. I start plotting how I am going to avoid talking to my old Mog.

Dismissed. I see my Mog is climbing over people to exit his pew on the other aisle from me. For once, he and I agree on something; not talking makes us both happier.

Since I am a first-time visitor I am entitled to some swag. I am given a book written by the pastor. “Christmas is a Gift”. I also am given a pre-printed “personal invitation” to keep attending.

I walk to my car. A brass ensemble is out on the sidewalk playing Christmas carols. I stop and listen for a moment. It almost seems normal.

~ Apathetic or whatever.

I feature these conference posters from time to time because it’s always interesting to see the lines of the various fundy camps blur together. Here we have the Sword of the Lord contingent led by Shelton Smith (who is heavily supported by and supports “moderate” fundies like Pensacola Christian College) sharing the platform with “über fundies” like Bob Gray at a church pastored by a Hyles man, Jeff Fugate.

As much as places like PCC would like to pretend that they’re far away from the screaming fundy crowd, the lunatic fringe of fundyland is just never quite as far away from them as they would like to pretend.

thanks to mounty for passing this one along

Friends we are gathered here today to celebrate the homegoing of our dear brother Thomas Johnson Wilson, known to all of us here at Grace Baptist Church simply as “Brother Tom.” As I look out at your faces today I see both tears and smiles as we know that our brother will be missed but we rejoice that he is gone from this old world to a place prepared especially for him.

As I think of Tom I remember that he was a gentle man who was dearly loved by his wife of twenty-three years and their eight children. Tom was always cheerful and never in my memory hurt anybody on purpose other than being rather accident prone whenever he was having a bit of a bad day.

Looking from here I can see the familiar faces of some of our local Emergency Room staff who know Tom and his family well since a lot of them ended up there when Tom was in the mood to trip accidentally shove someone through a wall or mistakenly drop a piece of furniture on them. But no matter how bad the injury of the day was, Tom always clung to the Word of God during those trying times and would quote a comforting verse or two when I came to see them in the hospital. And most importantly of all that verse was always from the King James Bible.

Tom was a generous man. He and his family would often sacrifice having nice extras like meat and firewood so that they could give to our church. We used to jokingly refer to him as Tom the Tither around our staff meeting table right before we would pray that God would find a place for his mother to live so that she could get out of that homeless shelter. I know it weighed heavy on Tom’s heart that his own mother was forced to live the last days of her life in that place run by Roman Catholics and he would ask us for gospel tracts and pamphlets about the evils of the Vatican to send her. Because giving someone the Gospel is the greatest gift you can give them, amen?

And Brother Tom was a man who knew how to witness. He never left the house without putting on a white dress shirt and tie and in the pocket of that shirt was sure to be a stack of gospel tracts and decision cards. And every Sunday he would come to church with a fresh batch of decision cards. And he didn’t just go to rich neighborhoods. No sir, Tom spent most of his time witnessing to people who didn’t even know how to read or write and he would have to fill out their decision cards for them and guess at how their names were spelled. Often times we couldn’t even find those folks later but I know we’ll see them some day in heaven and get the final head count of how many people he got saved. And that doesn’t even include all the witnessing he did by the Scripture verses that he had on stickers all over his truck.

Tom was a loving man. He loved everybody in this church. When I talk about Tom with people out in our community they always mention how much he loved to be with people and he especially loved to be an encouragement to single mothers who needed a man to help them around the house. It’s no wonder that so many of those women ended up naming their children “Thomas” and I swear that his love was so great that a lot of those kids even came to look like him as if he were their real father. But of all the people Tom Wilson loved, he loved his pastor most of all. Every deacons meeting and business meeting I could always count on him sitting right here in front and voting whichever way I felt led. You just can’t put a price on that kind of loyalty.

And I know that when that terrible accident happened and the brakes on that truck his wife was driving slipped and he had no time to get out of the way that even as he lay there in that driveway, the heavens opened and angels bore his soul aloft just like that pictures in the tracts he always handed out. And I know that he was so happy to be there in heaven with all the great Baptist preachers and men of God that he’d listened to on sermon tapes for all those years. And I’m sure they knew immediately that this was one of their own that was coming home and welcomed him with open arms into their midst.

Now let’s all stand and sing hymn number #356 “Coming Home” because I’m know that Brother Tom has gone home. And I’m sure he is even now receiving his just reward for his service here.

Let’s all sing out on the first…

I’m shocked by the use of movie characters and worldly music!

I know I’ve done a few of these videos from the Sammy Allen crowd of late but I just can’t believe my eyes on some of this stuff since my experience with this “camp” of fundyland is quite limited.

I’ll try to go find some nice, calm, Bob Jones material.

We give a lot of attention to the “wine” being Welches grape juice but did you ever really stop and think about what is eaten as “bread” in the Lord’s supper? Even as unleavened bread goes, most of that stuff is pretty gross. And teeny.

Although Jesus may be the Reason for the Season, strangely enough, Sundays that fall on Christmas day are almost always the exception to the cardinal rule of never skipping a service. Unlike some denominations who will actually have more church services to celebrate Christmas, somewhere between December 24th and 25th Christmas jumps in the fundy mind from being a strictly religious affair to being a “family time.” Don’t worry, you’ll more than make up for lost time during the Watchnight Preacher Boy Extravaganza.

There are many possible reasons for a fundy church to cancel their gatherings on Christmas day. For one thing, with so many people out of town and “out sick” for that service it could throw off the entire third quarter attendance averages. Not to mention that it’s a pretty serious blow to the managawd’s ego to waste an entire sermon full of brilliance on the six faithful people when he’s not even getting paid extra for working on a holiday.

And I say, good for them. A few minutes spent in the company of loved ones in what cheer can be had on a fundamentalist Christmas is probably more nourishing to the soul than a month of fundy Sundays.

Found Here and submitted by a loyal SFL reader.