Sometimes, what makes an article, a conversation, or a sermon interesting is giving the dark side, the reverse of the ideal picture you had been presenting.

On this blog, I’ve been presenting “a few of my favorite things” (also people and places). That list would be incomplete–and probably boring–without a nod to the opposites, some things that we find most uncomfortable and unpleasing.  No doubt, we’ll think of others, but here is the list this Thursday morning, the last day of January in the year of our Lord 2013.

1) I dislike movies or books that were enjoyable until the makers decided to insert a sex scene to increase their sales.

The lurid scene has zero to do with the plot and is completely unnecessary, but there it is.  In most cases, I’m through with that book from then on. Often–but not always–I leave the movie. (It depends on the movie, whether the rest of it was worth staying for.)

2. I learned to dislike deacons meetings and monthly church business meetings. (Since retirement, haven’t been to either.)

Now, to be fair, in the final years of my last pastorate, most of these meetings were pleasant, productive, and harmonious. In fact, if someone were to go back and look at the hundreds of such meetings I’ve attended over a half century of ministry, probably most were fine. But it’s the painful ones that stand out in memory. I’ll spare you the details, but most pastors know I refer to the ones where people grew angry over minor issues, decided to fight their leadership over inconsequential matters, and broke fellowship with one another because they could not have their way.  If I never sit through such a meeting again, I will count it a gift from the Lord.

3. I do not like parades. Mardi Gras or any other kind.

What fun!–crowds, standing on hard asphalt for hours, noise, and only the occasional laughter.  If you like them–and many in my family do–then good for you. You may go in my place, with my blessings.

4. I do not care for concerts, even when the featured performer is a favorite.

The crowds are horrendous, the behavior of some people is shocking, and the music is much too loud.  If the performer has been at this a long, long time, then they are bored with having to sing the ‘old favorites,’ so they pull a little switcheroo and insert new lyrics or ad lib or laugh at their own song. Not good.  (Two evenings ago, I watched part of a Willie Nelson concert. He is a master in a hundred ways, but honestly, that man did not hit two right notes with his voice all night long. He just did his “Willie” monotone thing, which a lot of people must like. But I don’t. I turned it off after a few songs.)

5. I do not like movies that take the name of Jesus Christ as profanity.

Usually, I endure it but occasionally get up and walk out.

6. I do not like boring books, even if they claim to be historical and important and are prize-winners.

Something there is about a non-fiction book that feels it must bore you with too many details, too many dates, too many footnotes, and too many insignificant events, otherwise the writer is caving in to the pot-boiler instinct (that is, the urge to write interestingly in order to sell books).  One reason I enjoy a good Western novel from time to time is that the authors know how to tell a story and they get on with it.

7. I do not like dealing with difficult issues over a meal.

When I was pastoring, if a member and I were having a problem in our relationship and we decided to get together to work it out, I declined his invitation to “discuss this over lunch.”  After figuring out that I disliked this (by going to a few such painful luncheons), my reply would be: “May I suggest we meet in my office and work this out. Then, enjoy a good lunch together some other time. But not mix the two.”  They almost always agreed to that.

I suppose this goes back to my upbringing.  There were six children in our family, all of us born within a nine-year span. So, during the 1940s and much of the 1950s, we were all home at the same time, and all crowded around the table for mealtimes. I can honestly say that I remember not a single time when anyone was angry or upset or when unpleasant issues were dealt with then. We were there to eat and enjoy the meal, and we did just that.

8. I do not like interdenominational religious meetings where Jesus is unwelcome.

As a pastor, I always tried to reach out to ministers of all denominations, by which I mean Protestant and Catholic, as well as rabbis. We had a lot in common, even if we didn’t agree on everything. Often, we became good friends and would meet for lunch and fellowship.  When we were together, I respected the rights of the others to be themselves, to pray as they normally prayed, and so forth. And I insisted on the same for myself. If the others were uncomfortable with that–meaning they wanted me to leave Jesus outside in the car–then, I found other things to do with my time that attend those meetings.

In Charlotte, NC, where I pastored the First Baptist Church, a friend who was a rabbi wrote a blistering letter to the editor attacking those who mentioned Jesus in public prayers. The editor printed my response, in which I pointed out how “my friend Rabbi Marc” (in his article) was upset that certain members of his congregation were asked to remove their skull caps on entering a courtroom. I said, “Out of consideration for his religion, he wants to keep his head-covering on. And out of consideration for his religion, he wants me to remove Jesus from my prayers. Anyone see an inconsistency here?”

I’m uncomfortable with even this little exchange, but it had to be said.

9. I hate ball games where my team could have won, but the coach made some truly dumb moves.

LSU fans could bend your ears for hours on this. Our football coach, Les Miles, will win ten games every year. He has job security, make no mistake about that, and his pay is something like 10 times what the President of the USA makes. But in the two or three games he loses every year, Miles will drive fans crazy. He will leave an ineffective quarterback in long after the guy has lost it. He will call plays even my grandchildren think are dumb. The game ends, my frustration level is through the roof, and I turn off the television and go for a walk. (What? You thought I was paying money to drive to Baton Rouge to attend these games on campus, that I am a dues-paying member of the Tiger faithful? Nope. I’m the guy who stays at home and watches on television, who has never met Les Miles and has no desire to do so, but who pulls for the team. Like a million other people.)

I sometimes make a little joke about how LSU and the New Orleans Saints are doing a big favor for me–driving me away from watching football on television so I can do productive things with my time. But, come next season, I’ll rejoin the faithful and the hopeful and we will try again to get it right.

10. I dislike long, boring blogs.

So, I’ll end this one right here. Sorry.  Will try to do better next time.