speaking of underground...

did a little archaeological dig into my performance roots last night. my dad, pastor J.B. SR., is up from san francisco this week preaching at one of the churches i grew up in. i haven't seen him preach in years but i saw last night how thoroughly i've bitten his style...the message was "what has god done for YOU and what has it moved you to DO?". i don't remember where the text came from, but it had something to do with king david living in a house of cedar while the spirit of god was housed in a tent and then david deciding to build a real house (allegedly the very first one) for god.

before he even cracked open the word, he began by telling these "believe it or not" type stories about his own relationship to god and the miracles he's most recently witnessed. out of five of the miracles, at least two included people being raised from the dead. of note, because he is notoriously sexist, is that all the prophets he talks about are women. and also, i don't remember him saying anything about anyone going to hell this sermon.

he's an amazing storyteller with PERFECT comic timing. his use of repitition is genius and he's a master at improvisational storytelling. the major difference between our styles is he tends to pace the pulpit, while i stay in one place behind the mic. we both, like to look cute on stage (he was resplendent in head to toe white, including a very handsome silver goatee on his usually clean shaven chin), we LOVE to talk about ourselves, and we have the same sense of drama (i.e. build to climax with strong endings.)...

the congregation, especially the women judges, gave him straight tens!...more later...christa