Paul Young's Favorite Joke

Recently Paul Young, author of The Shack, told me his favorite joke.

A pastor dies and he’s up at the pearly gates, but he’s not sure whether he can just walk in, so he shuffles around wondering what to do.

Just then St. Peter shows up, so the pastor addresses him. “Hello, Peter . . . . Um, pardon me, but I don’t know how this works. Do I need a hundred points or something to get in?”

“What do you think?” Peter replies.

“Well,” the pastor says, “for thirty-five years I served in our local soup kitchen every week.”

“OK,” Peter says, “I’ll give you a point for that.”

“All right. And for fifteen years I faithfully served my flock as a pastor.”

“I don’t know . . .” Peter replies, rubbing his chin.

“C’mon!” the pastor insists. “Fifteen years!”

“Oh, all right, I’ll give you a point for that too.”

The pastor thinks, “Wow, that’s my whole life, and all I have are two points.”

Just then a fellow walks by the pastor and without even thinking about it goes right through the pearly gates. The pastor recognizes the man. He was a nice enough guy on earth, went to church a few times a year, owned a shop downtown.

But the pastor’s not happy. “Wait a minute, Peter. You mean to tell me that guy has a hundred points, and I have just two?”

Peter looks him in the eye and says, “No, he just doesn’t play that game.”

What Do You Value?

Brian McLaren said something a while back that stayed with me.

He was talking about the importance of taking care of oneself when he said something like, “Sometimes we’re so strung out and fed up with life we may need to hop on a plane to be with that one friend who really understands for a few hours.”

Hop on a plane to see a friend for a few hours? Isn’t that wasteful?

It depends on what you value, of course. Many around us seem to value autonomy (who needs friendship?) and intense haranguing (because generative conversation doesn’t sell).

But what do you value?

A Story for Lucas

Once upon a time there was a bird who lived happily in a giant redwood tree. Every day the bird would wake up in its nest and fly out to look for food. Every night the little bird flew back to the tree for a good night's rest.

This went on day after day for years.

But one evening something very sad happened. The bird returned to its tree, but the tree was no longer there. Some cruel men had cut the tree down.

The bird cried, for his tree was gone.

With nothing else to do, the bird began to fly and fly and fly, looking for a new place to live.

One day the little bird was flying along and saw thousands of other birds filling a treeless field. The bird was a little nervous about joining these other birds, but he didn't know what else to do, so he took a chance.

The little bird flew down and landed among these other birds. Much to his relief the other birds welcomed him and listened to his story about his long lost tree. Many of the other brids told similar stories; they had lost their trees too.

So while the little birds did not have a tree to nest in, at least they had each other. They were friends, and for a time at least, that was enough.

Every now and again, while the the little bird rested among his friends at night, he felt as though the strongest branches in the world were holding him up. And he hoped . . .

Do Your Art

I have this theory—nothing scientific, just a pet hypothesis I’ve been nursing for a few years. And it is this: the thing that makes life worth living is a little side project in redemption. A little piece of art on the side that you’re working on, a little life-giving project that you’re loving on. A beat-up car you’re slowly restoring. A manuscript you’re tinkering with. A scrapbook you’re creating.

Whatever that is for you, keep doing it. Better yet, make more time for it. Stop watching so much TV and attend to your art instead.

Have you ever thought about making this project your full-time job? Don’t do this if it would corrupt your art, but wow. What if...?