Everyone is loving to hate Pastor Joe Nelms’ oft-viewed prayer to open a recent NASCAR event. I couldn’t even find an articulate condemnation—something with conviction like, “High priest of consumerism breathes oil-addicted Empire’s last pious gasp.” On offer was only the inevitable autotune remix and haughty snickers. The twitter hashtag might as well have been #howdarehenotbelikeus?
We cultured despisers seem to leave Pastor Nelms four recourses: He should 1) not invite God into the recreational aspect of his life at all, 2) bring to it an artificial solemnity that is clearly out of step with his mode of enjoyment 3) prophetically overturn the NASCAR tables with new urbanist fury (a practice which Christ reserved for religious occasions), or 4) he should take to enjoying lacrosse or polo (and watch his ministry disappear).
Why not apply our ample training in appreciating other cultures to this especially robust portrait of vernacular American faith? The prayer begins, “Heavenly Father, You said ‘in all things give thanks,’ so we want to thank you tonight for these mighty machines.” Pastor Nelms naturally assumes that the “all” in “all things” includes car racing. He then goes on to give thanks for multiple car brands – which both lends the prayer poetic specificity and avoids the impression that it was sponsored by one brand in particular. “May they put on a performance worthy of your strength tonight,” pleads Pastor Nelms, who—when he hears the roar of an engine—knows that God’s power far exceeds it. More lamentable, it seems to me, would be to think God couldn’t measure up.
But the real point of contention comes when Pastor Nelms gives God thanks for his “smokin’ hot wife.” “What an idiot!,” ran the self-righteous commentary, “Hasn’t he seen the prayer to Baby Jesus in Talladega Nights?” I fear the joke, however, may actually be on those of us who assume Pastor Nelms hasn’t. To be sure, Pastor Nelms might be unconsciously regurgitating the film, which—it needs be admitted—would be rather scary. But it’s also quite possible (and far more likely) that by referring to his “smokin’ hot wife,” he was not boasting, but intentionally alluding to the film, thereby brilliantly undermining our lopsided American caricatures of female beauty which insists that smokin’ hot = thin blond Talladega bombshell.
You see, Pastor Nelms is wise enough to know that his wife indeed is beautiful whether or not she fits American stereotypes of beauty. And rather than sanction disrespectful youth (as in Talledega Nights), Pastor Nelms’ wife’s daily goal—we learn from her testimony—is to be Godly, and to raise Godly children who might one day follow in the path of ministry themselves.
Of course, one might rightfully take issue with the prayer’s conclusion: “in Jesus’ Name, boogity, boogity, boogity, Amen.” Though perhaps this flourish can be forgiven a man who is at heart a traditionalist. According to his church’s website, “we are a simple country church that continues to preach and teach form the King James Bible and sing from the old hymns of the faith.”
Make no mistake: The prayer to Baby Jesus in Talladega Nights continues to be a devastating send up to any Christian who would fall into its line of fire. The prayer rightfully skewers the worst aspects of baptized consumerism, lust, an idolatry of victory, Feuerbachian projections onto the Godhead, and the refusal to “honor thy father and mother” (just like the Bible does). I’m just not so sure, as everyone else seems to be, that Pastor Nelms is one of them.




August 4th, 2011 | 9:26 am
As a father, I am delighted when my son offers the table grace and thanks God for his “smokin’ hot wife.” Every day, he is speaking very positively about his wife and offering thanks to God for her.
Now, what if every husband would see their wives as “smokin’ hot” and be grateful to God for them — would that be a bad thing? I think it would have a very positive effect on marriage in America.
August 4th, 2011 | 10:06 am
Count me among the “cultured despisers.” I come from a long line of rednecks and not one of them would give his irreverence a pass.
In a follow-up interview the pastor admitted that he was playing to the crowd rather than talking to his Creator. He provides the usual seeker-sensitive excuse that he was trying to get people’s attention so that they would come to church. Maybe I’m old-fashioned, but I thought that people should want to come to church to hear more about the glory of God rather than to be entertained by quotes from Will Ferrell movies.
August 4th, 2011 | 10:30 am
Fair enough Joe. But his church is old fashioned as well (King James Bible and old hymns). I doubt he’d be quoting Will Ferrell movies at church. Tactics beyond church are different.
August 4th, 2011 | 10:50 am
I found the “prayer” amusing and not offensive, but wasn’t it crystal clear he was doing a riff on Talladega Nights? I am not sure how using a satire of a prayer as a model is supposed to result in anything other than a comic performance rather than a real prayer. If Pastor Nelms thinks it might do some good to put on a performance like that, I have no problem with it. But I don’t think what we see in the video clip is a prayer.
August 4th, 2011 | 11:51 am
Really interesting ongoing conversation about this event. Who knew it would carry on as it has.
Joe Carter,
“In a follow-up interview the pastor admitted that he was playing to the crowd rather than talking to his Creator.”
No, he ‘admitted’ that he did both. Let’s not set up polar opposites here. There’s something I’d like to see purged out of these conversations – the accusation that this guy did THIS and therefore not a bit of THAT. Where does sifting out the wheat from the weeds come into play here? I mentioned some of this in a previous post a week ago on this topic,
http://www.firstthings.com/blogs/firstthoughts/2011/07/25/boogety-boogety-boogety/
and Mr. Milliner does as well in this essay. We ‘liked’ the beginning of the prayer, but then some of us think it ran downhill from there and some of us think the slope was steeper than others. Do we condemn the whole prayer, and the whole man?
“He provides the usual seeker-sensitive excuse that he was trying to get people’s attention so that they would come to church.”
Labeling it an ‘excuse’ is unfair and off-target. Getting attention isn’t the problem – the disagreement has to do with whether that type of speech which ‘gets attention’ belongs in any public prayer, and how – and I have to say I see support for both sides in Scripture. But saying the man used it as a ‘seeker -sensitive excuse’ applies an extraordinarily derogatory flavor to it which I think is unwarranted.
“Maybe I’m old-fashioned, but I thought that people should want to come to church to hear more about the glory of God rather than to be entertained by quotes from Will Ferrell movies.”"
Hear hear, agreed – on the first part. But I think that’s a false dichotomy you’ve set up and perhaps you’re limiting the ways in which we can speak about the glory of God. I think it must be acknowledged that some people are disposed to, and in fact do, see the glory of God reflected in sport – particularly in auto racing, and particularly those who would spend their money to sit in the stands. I, too, see echos of God’s might and power, and the prayer quite frankly got me thinking about it again.
August 4th, 2011 | 12:31 pm
Well done, Mr. Milliner.
We reserve a special solemnity for our worship of God, and yet we also acknowledge his ways in everything we do, from the important to the trivial, from the mournful to the joyous. The pastor’s importation of mirth into what is too often a dreary (and therefore ineffective) affair is not ipso facto “irreverent.”
The supporters who say “oh lighten up” are not correct either. The pastor was not inappropriately lightening up a moment of gravity so much as sneaking gravitas into the weightless patois of a superficial sporting activity (that is often worshiped religiously). It was a deft corrective. Instead of, “Oh, here comes the moment where we take off our caps and make a show of loving Jesus before we participate in the real sacrament of car racing,” he tricked his audience into recognizing His presence everywhere by inspiring genuine, spontaneous, and unexpected emotions in the Name of the Lord.
Not all prayer is deadly solemn any more than a conversation with one’s father is always a dissertation defense. It is sometimes disputatious, passionate, ecstatic, and yes, humorous. What counts is what’s in our hearts when we engage our Creator. If we reserve only a single mode of communication — if we make our speaking too precious and formal — our hearts become dry and the Spirit departs. I speak as an orthodox Catholic, one who is quite intimate with the limits of formality, to Evangelicals and heartland Protestants, my brothers who have taught me the importance of unabashed, informal, and comprehensive declaration of a love for Jesus Christ.
The pastor was not being frivolous, he was reminding us that God resides even among our frivolities, like NASCAR racing. We tend to compartmentalize the awe of the Lord into appropriate times and places rather than acknowledge his comprehensive dominion over all facets of our life, the vulgar and the divine, the sacred and the profane. Compartmentalization leads to putting the Redeemer in a ghetto and visiting him on Sundays rather than seeking to find a way to proclaim his Gospel with every breath, in every venue, every day, so long as we live.
August 4th, 2011 | 1:08 pm
It’s interesting that there are no humorous public prayers in Scripture.
Even aside from the “God bless the American way of life” aspect of this prayer which I agree is debatable, this man was obviously irreverent in public prayer. I’m sorry: public irreverence in prayer has never been condoned by the Church in history.
Yes, it’s a fun sporting event. But when you pray even at fun events, take off your hats and be solemn before a holy God (or do whatever other cultural expression of reverence).
It’s incredible that American Christians who would not question the need and propriety to be solemn and act accordingly (rise, take off your hat, be silent, etc.) before the singing of the national anthem and the raising of the American flag–yes, even at fun baseball games, the Super Bowl, etc.–would take the triune God less seriously than America.
August 4th, 2011 | 2:58 pm
I found the prayer offensive. Prayer is a great gift that we have received through Christ. Jesus gave His life so that we could have communion with God. Bringing a secular, and even blasphemous, “movie tie-in” to this kind of public demonstration is simply wrong. The culture mocks Christ, here the church (represented by Pastor Nelms) is mimicking the culture that mocks Christ. So, the church is mocking Christ. -That’s the view from here.
August 4th, 2011 | 3:06 pm
Neither Mr. Milliner nor his “Emergent” Po-Mo foes are actually looking at the prayer and making an opinion about it. Instead, both are looking to see whether this prayer fits into their political ideology. The Emergent Po-Mo wonders, “Is this an instance of the Americanization of Christianity, of the exaltation of Power and Empire? Should I attack it?” Milliner asks, “Is this an instance of public piety breaking into the naked public square — is it a positive show of religiosity which engenders the public faith necessary to protect our American Founding First Principles and preserve the Republic?” For both sides, the bottom line is always: how does this help my cause? The point of Christianity is something else, I would contend.
August 4th, 2011 | 5:44 pm
“For both sides, the bottom line is always: how does this help my cause? The point of Christianity is something else, I would contend.”
There’s that ‘two sides’ thing again.
I’ll hardly defend the Emergent Church movement and the “po mo”s – (I had to look that one up.) But here’s a third possibility: This orthodox Roman Catholic considers, is there anything good and authentic about the man or his words which I can affirm and endorse?
August 4th, 2011 | 5:59 pm
Albert,
“It’s interesting that there are no humorous public prayers in Scripture.”
I’ll have to think that one over. There are almost certainly examples of ironic humor in Scripture – but perhaps not in a specific formal prayer that I can recall.
But I myself know that some of my exchanges with God – my ‘turning my attention to the Other’ – my prayer – *are* humorous indeed. I wonder if that’s part of the root of the distaste some feel: that this was in some ways extraordinarily authentic and dare I say ‘more acceptable’ as the words of a private prayer – but perhaps not one we wanted to hear publicly expressed.
August 4th, 2011 | 8:31 pm
I’m with Joe – the rednecks I grew up with would have seen this prayer as irreverent.
And thanking God for his “smoking hot wife” isn’t a way of honoring his wife – it’s more in the category of lewd bragging in a high school locker room. It’s about him, not her.
August 4th, 2011 | 8:43 pm
It strikes me that the gentleman may pray in this manner a lot, but if so, is he regarding God as the Creator and Judge of mankind, who will be deciding the fate of anyone who might die during that contest? Or is he treating God as a waiter who is taking orders from him on behalf of the racers? I would think that the guys who get out on the track are thinking pretty soberly about how to stay alive as well as how to win, and dedicating their performance to God, promising to drive in a way that will honor Him and His gifts to mankind–including our technology–may not add to the hilarity of the occasion, but might actually put some of the participants in closer touch with Him.
August 5th, 2011 | 1:58 am
I have to say that despite the irreverence and general tawdriness of Talladega Nights, I was really struck by the part where our hero notes that even though baby Jesus was just a baby, yet he was omnipotent.
This is the kind of throwaway line that has great meaning and it has stuck with me ever since.
Are not these things be part of the mysterious ways?
August 5th, 2011 | 8:39 am
If your prayers to God are not sometimes humorous, you are not giving yourself completely to Him. Setting aside whether the pastor’s NASCAR prayer was inappropriate, we must acknowledge that a humorous and lighthearted connection to God is not by definition “irreverent.”
The lightness of being is part of the human condition, an irrepressible and healthy part of who we are. We invite God into that sector of our souls, as with all things. We are not mocking the greatness of the divine, we are humbly asking Him to condescend to our condition so that we may be divinely inspired and informed in all things through Him.
At the same time, of course humor can be dangerous — particularly the biting, ironic variety with which we are accustomed in postmodernity. The pastor was communicating his ineffable joy best his meager poetry and “redneck” patois could. Considering the unavoidable, jaw-dropping irreverence we are used to enduring in the culture at large, considering its ubiquity and its constant urge to outdo itself; calling the pastor’s prayer “irreverent” in such a context is wildly incongruous relative to the age. The man obviously, ecstatically loves the Lord. Condemnation for irreverence should include at a minimum some hint of the Christ-hating malice that has poisoned every cultural precinct of the era without any means to escape it. God bless Pastor Nelms.
We “reverent” are used to deploying a single tone when addressing God, and, while that may assist us from overstepping our station, it is not adequate to His comprehensive dominion. Shall the preacher make no instructive jokes from the pulpit? Is all laughter blasphemous from the pews? I shudder to imagine. We learn best, we are at our most relaxed and free when we are filled with mirth, the very Spirit of the Lord. “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”
Chesterton concludes Orthodoxy this way:
You know what would need in here? A good orthodox Jew to inject this staid Puritanical panel of judgment with some rabbinical humor. They have outclassed us younger brothers in this regard for centuries.
August 5th, 2011 | 11:36 am
[...] That (or A if you missed it) public prayer at NASCAR defended. [...]
August 5th, 2011 | 11:36 am
[...] That (or A if you missed it) public prayer at NASCAR defended. [...]
August 5th, 2011 | 12:35 pm
King,
Outstanding Chesterton quote – thanks for that.
August 9th, 2011 | 1:59 pm
Count me as one who found the prayer silly but not at all sacrilegious. I still don’t quite understand what all the fuss is about…maybe it’s because, as a black Baptist, I’m used to hearing prayers with an element of humor injected. But usually not fuel-injected…:-)
August 9th, 2011 | 2:00 pm
Oops….come to think, NASCARs aren’t fuel-injected, are they? I believe they still use carburetors…
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