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9780307458018

Churched

by
  • ISBN13:

    9780307458018

  • ISBN10:

    0307458016

  • Edition: 1st
  • Format: Trade Paper
  • Copyright: 2010-06-15
  • Publisher: WaterBrook
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List Price: $14.99

Summary

"Sweet-hearted, funny, and honest,Churchedhad me reminiscing about the little boy searching for God that I once washellip;" -Dan Merchant, writer/director ofLord, Save Us From Your Followers Churcheddetails an American boyrs"s experiences growing up in a culture where men werenrs"t allowed to let their hair grow to touch their ears ("an abomination!"), women wouldnrs"t have been caught dead in a pair of pants (unless swimming), and the pastor couldnrs"t preach a sermon without a healthy dose of hellfire and brimstone. In 1978, when Matthew Paul Turner was five, his family became sold-out members of an independent Baptist church, joining without any firsthand knowledge of Christian fundamentalism, only his parentsrs" sincere desire to follow God. InChurched, with wit and careful observation, he reveals the tenderness and grace that managed to seep through the cracks and a young man who, amidst the chaotic mess of religion falls in love with Jesus. "Churchedis funny, poignant, and surprisingly moving." -Sara Miles, author ofTake This Bread "A memoirist who doesnrs"t take himself or the world too seriously, but still writes profoundly and beautifully, Turner gave me a belly-laugh on almost every page." -Lisa Samson, award-winning author ofQuaker Summer,Embrace MeandJustice in the Burbs

Author Biography

Matthew Paul Turner is a blogger, speaker and author of The Coffeehouse Gospel, Provocative Faith, Beatitude: Relearning Jesus, the What You Didn’t Learn from Your Parents About… series, and several other popular books. He has written for Relevant, HomeLife, Christian Single magazines and was the former editor of CCM magazine. Matthew and his wife, Jessica, live in Nashville, Tennessee. He can be found online at www.matthewpaulturner.com. 


From the Hardcover edition.

Supplemental Materials

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Excerpts

Prelude

The man’s shoulder was inked with a tattoo of Jesus breathing fire out of his mouth, which I concluded to mean one of two things: the man was going to offer me the opportunity to be born again in the hot fumes of a firebreathing Messiah or he planned to kill me and make it necessary for me tobeborn again.

Like any “good” American, I had already been born again–since childhood I’d pretty much been on shuffle and repeat–but I still feared either scenario. I couldn’t stop looking at the man’s shoulder. His Jesus was green and faded, and because of a small mole, it appeared as though my Lord and Savior had a foreign object dangling from one nostril. Then the man looked at me from the opposite end of the sauna, tightened the towel around his waist, and said, “How are you, man? My name is Jim.”

I didn’t say anything at first. His question sort of paralyzed me. Would he pull a small Gideons Bible from somewhere underneath that towel, look up a bunch of frightful verses in Romans, and then ask me to get down on my hands and knees and repeat after him? I wouldn’t do it. Not in a sauna. Not just wearing a towel. Besides, I had sworn off being born againagainin this decade.

“Hello.” I spoke carefully, still not ready to trust a person who had a flaming-tongue Messiah on an appendage. “My name is Matthew.”

“Good to meet you, Matthew. Man, I don’t know about you, but I have had the craziest day.” Jim stared at me as he talked. I think he was making sure I paid attention. “I didn’t even work out today. I just came right to the sauna.” He stretched his arms and then massaged his left shoulder, pinching Jesus’s face with his fingers.

I live in Nashville. The stereotypes about this town are true. Everyone is or has been a musician at some point in their life. Most of us who live here will carry on long conversations with people we don’t know. When it rains here, the majority of us forget how to drive and become fully capable of killing ourselves. And everyone here has asked Jesus into their hearts at least once, if only to fulfill the requirements for getting a Tennessee driver’s license.

But if I was going to stay true to the Nashville way, I would have to ask Jim to explain his “crazy day.” That’s not considered nosey in this town. He fully expected me to ask.

“What’s been so crazy about your day?”

“Oh, just work, man. One of those days when you wonder whether or not you should have gotten out of bed.”

“What kind of work do you do?”

“I’m an associate pastor at the Pentecostal church just up the road.”

“The apostolic one?”

“Oh, you know it?”

“It’s sort of difficult to miss.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. And it’s about to get bigger. The deacon board just approved a ten-million-dollar expansion. Some of the members think we need a newconnectioncenter.I think it’s a waste of money, but what are you going to do? So Matthew, are you a Christian?”

“I loveJesus.Does that count?”

Jim laughed as though he understood what I meant. At the time, I was going through a period when I didn’t like telling people I was a Christian. I didn’t want them to be scared of me, fearing that I would invite them to church or a “rock concert” starring Kutless. And I didn’t want them blaming me for the war in Iraq. Simply telling people I loved Jesus seemed like a cop-out to some of my friends, but often it kept me from having to own the sins of evangelicals in places like Kansas or South Carolina or two miles up the road at Jim’s Pentecostal church.



Excerpted from Churched: One Kid's Journey Toward God Despite a Holy Mess by Matthew Paul Turner
All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

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