Origin Story

Either you're reading the first post of my new blog because you’re on the cutting edge, or you've scrolled back to see how all this madness started. Either way, I'm going to give you exactly what you want:

An explanation of how the title "Barrel of Jesus" came to be. An old-fashioned Origin Story.

It was a warm summer's eve gathered in the dusty, garage-like chapel at Blueridge Christian Camp. Some fool decided to trust my friend JW and I with a group of rowdy middle schoolers for the week, and so began our team. Our first task was to name the proud warriors we were in charge of, but unfortunately, their creative potential extended only as far as "The booger brains" and such. With only a few moments left to decide, JW spotted a source of inspiration, another team leader wearing ridiculous pajama pants covered with those little barrel of monkey guys. He suggested it, and it stuck. We were the fearless, unstoppable "Barrel of Monkeys."

I wish I could say the week went fantastic from there, but it didn't. Mostly, it rained. But it not the kind of rain that you run through and scream for the thrill of the storm. It was the on and off again rain that relents long enough to get your hopes up, then crushes the dream of doing anything outside. Let me explain:

Eating lunch -- Dry outside
Rec time -- Clouds form, begins to rain
Dinner -- Sun comes out, beams of light break through
Evening rec -- Buckets of water fall from nowhere
Chapel service -- Rain stops, possible hope of campfire
Campfire -- Downpour

After a few days, our morale was sinking faster than bare feet in the mud-field the camp had turned into. JW and I tried our best to keep spirits high, as did others. A few faculty and staff formed their own team, the Kobe Stoppers, awarding themselves millions of points for incredible feats, such as memorizing the entire Bible and being old enough to drive cars. The laughs were fun indoors, but after the 3rd consecutive indoor dodgeball tournament and watching the same movie, Extreme Days, we were ready for some actual summer adventure. Afternoon rec time came the next day and would you guess it? It rained. Fortunately, by now we were used to the feeling, and decided to try something outside anyway. We didn't have many other choices as leaders though . . . you can only play spoons so many times before all our hands were shredded from the girls' razor-sharp nails.

So we went outside to find out where each of the teams would be heading that day. The camp director pointed to the different teams and sent them up to the baseball field and the ropes course, but then he looked at our team to give us directions. He paused unable to remember our name.

"Barrel of . . ."

With all the mighty lions and astronauts, he couldn't remember what they heck we were. I watched the frustration mount in his own face and he lost it.

"I don't know guys. Barrel of, Jesus, whatever you are, get over here and play some ultimate frisbee."

We laughed . . . and laughed. Instantly, our name changed. More curiously though, our attitudes changed. We played ultimate in the rain that afternoon having a blast, rain or no. I think it rained the entire rest of that week, but we didn't care. We were the barrel of Jesus, more fun than a barrel of anything else. That identity stuck, and we took the role of morale boosters around the camp. By the end of the week, we learned the difference between being happy and joyful, what it means to "live out of the overflow," and how to play just about any sport in a torrential downpour. To some it may seem sacrilegious, but for our team, we will always have an answer to "what's more fun than a barrel of monkeys?"

A Barrel of Jesus.


***Recording of the Week***