CHURCHED(ISBN=9780307458018) 英文原版 下载 pdf 电子版 epub 免费 txt 2025

　　Churched details an American boy’s experiences

growing up in a culture where men weren’t allowed to let their hair

grow to touch their ears (“an abomination!”), women wouldn’t have

been caught dead in a pair of pants (unless swimming), and the

pastor couldn’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 parents’ sincere desire to follow God. In Churched, 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.

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　　Matthew Paul Turneris a blogger, speaker, and

author of Hear No Evil, The Coffeehouse

Gospel, the What You Didn’t Learn from Your Parents About…

series, and several other popular books. Matthew, his

wife, Jessica, and his son, Elias, live in Nashville,

Tennessee. He can be found online at

www.matthewpaulturner.com. 

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　　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 to be born 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 again again in 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 new connection center. I think it’s a

waste of money, but what are you going to do? So Matthew, are you a

Christian?”

　　“I love Jesus. 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.

　　“You know, man,” said Jim, “I moved here a couple of years ago

from Connecticut, where it’s–in my opinion–spiritually dry. I

thought moving here would make being a Christian a whole lot

easier.”

　　“Easier? Why did you think that?”

　　“Because Nashville is the Christian Mecca.” Jim made air quotes

with his fingers when he said, “Christian Mecca.” I’m sure he did

it so I wouldn’t assume he believed Nashville was Mecca or that

Mecca was Christian.

　　Among Christians, air quotes are a form of contextualization. I’m

partial to using them myself, mostly because they prevent somebody

from taking a potentially rash or exaggerated statement and using

it against me. “Wait just a minute,” I can say to my antagonist. “I

totally threw air quotes around the words big fat loser when

describing the pastor. That clears me, man. I’m clean.”

　　While they’re not biblical, air quotes seem to sanctify insults

and debatable theology like baptismal water sanctifies a baby’s

forehead.

　　But I understood Jim’s point. While I’m quite sure religious

people in places like Chicago and Detroit don’t kneel southward

when they say prayers to Jesus, I have met a good number of

vacationers who come to Nashville because this city is a big ol’

John Deere buckle in the Bible Belt.

　　“Seriously, think about it, Matthew. Do you know of any other

city in America better known for its fear of God?” Jim wiped sweat

off his brow. “I don’t think I do.”

　　I thought for a second. “I hear Colorado Springs is rather

fearful.”

　　“I’m sure that’s true. But I doubt it’s Nashville. I’ve been told

this town has more churches per capita than any other city in

America.” Jim nodded. “Honest-to-God truth, Matthew, that’s what

I’ve been told by a number of people, and I can believe it.”

　　I believed it too. No doubt we have a lot of churches in this

town. But since I’ve heard the same statistic used in reference to

Dallas, Birmingham, and Orlando, I’m not sure it’s scientific. But

scientific matters don’t hold much weight in Christian cultural

claims, so it probably wouldn’t count even if proven.

　　Even if Nashville doesn’t lead with the most churches, I’ve

always said that one of this city’s chief exports is Jesus. God’s

only Son gets shipped, bused, couriered, radioed, televised, faxed,

e-mailed, and, if need be, dropped like a bomb from twenty thousand

feet in places all over the world because of what happens here in

Nashville. In many ways, we are God’s command center. His Pentagon.

His newer Jerusalem.

　　With a push of a button, we can have a million Bibles dropped in

a remote location in China. With a phone call or two, we can get a

person carrying some very good news to show up on your doorstep,

like Publishers Clearing House. The only catch is, you have to die

before you’re able to afford that mansion you’ve always dreamed

of.

　　Jim and I walked out of the sauna to cool off. He sat on one of

the benches, and I went over to the water fountain.

　　“So tell me why you thought moving to Nashville would make it

easier to be a Christian,” I said.

　　He laughed. “Because Christians are everywhere. I thought it

would be amazing to be in a city where Jesus is as much a part of

the culture as Dolly and Cracker Barrel.”

　　I laughed. “Okay, I get that. I’ve probably been there at some

point in my life.”

　　“I also thought it would make being a pastor a lot easier. I

mean, back home I would never have had this kind of conversation

with somebody at the gym. Here, it happens every time I work out.

It’s almost annoying. Sometimes it feels like we’re playing church.

It’s difficult to explain.”

　　“But I understand what you’re saying.”

　　I’d been looking for a way to ask about the tattoo, but with no

open window, I just blurted, “Jim, you have to tell me the deal

with the tattoo.”

　　“You mean you don’t like it?” He laughed. “Man, I was young. I

guess it was my way of sharing the truth about Jesus without having

to say anything.”

　　“And that truth would be what? That Jesus is a flamethrower?

Puff, the Magic Dragon?”

　　“Dude, I was an idiot back then. Now, I’m embarrassed to go to a

public pool where people who don’t know me can see me without a

shirt. I’m scared to death somebody will take it seriously.”

　　“I kind of did. It’s one of the most awful tattoos I’ve ever

seen. I’d call that ‘doctor’–you know, the one who advertises on

107.5–and have that thing removed.”

　　I headed back to the sauna for another round. For a few minutes,

I sat there alone, thinking about my conversation with Jim.

　　I wasn’t a pastor, but I had been to church more times than I

could count, and I had lived in Nashville for a while, so I knew

something about what he felt. At first, this town feels like a shot

of faith in the arm.

　　When I first moved here, I thought it was energizing to be a part

of a community where you were odd if you didn’t believe in Jesus. I

felt at home. Even alive at times. But I started thinking about it

too much, which led me to wonder if I was just filling a role in a

Stepford-type reality.

　　Jim opened the sauna door, stepped inside, and sat down. He

didn’t say anything, so I didn’t either.

　　My mind wandered back to a service I attended at one of

Nashville’s largest churches a year or so after moving here. I

hadn’t really wanted to go, but a friend begged me. “It’s our

annual Harvest Festival on Sunday,” he told me. “You’ll love it.

Please come. God always shows up on Harvest Sunday.”

　　Against my ...

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编辑推荐

　　“Sweet-hearted, funny, and honest, Churched had me reminiscing

about the little boy searching for God that I once was…”

　　—Dan Merchant, writer/director of Lord, Save Us From Your

Followers

　　 Churched details an American boy’s experiences growing up

in a culture where men weren’t allowed to let their hair grow to

touch their ears (“an abomination!”), women wouldn’t have been

caught dead in a pair of pants (unless swimming), and the pastor

couldn’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 parents’ sincere desire to follow God. In Churched, 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.

　　 “Churched is funny, poignant, and surprisingly

moving.”

　　—Sara Miles, author of Take This Bread

　　 “A memoirist who doesn’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 of Quaker Summer, Embrace Me

and Justice in the Burbs

媒体评论

　　“Churched is funny, poignant, and surprisingly moving. In this

deft story of his fundamentalist upbringing Matthew Paul Turner

proclaims the good news: that even church can't drown out the

message of Jesus.”

–Sara Miles, author of Take This Bread

　　“Turner’s churched lives in that elusive space between whimsical

memories of an innocent youth and cringe-inducing flashbacks of

life growing up in the church. Like a visit with long-lost

relatives, churched reintroduced me to characters anyone who grew

up in the church will find familiar, and I was surprised to find

that I was glad to see them. Sweet-hearted, funny, and honest,

churched had me reminiscing about the little boy searching for God

that I once was and gently reminded me I still have some miles to

travel.”

–Dan Merchant, writer/director of Lord, Save Us From Your

Followers

　　　“Thanks to churched, Matthew Paul Turner’s vivid, often

hilarious account of his childhood, I realized that not having

grown up in evangelical culture is less of a handicap than I

previously thought!”

–Andrew Beaujon, author of Body Piercing Saved My Life and writer

for the Washington Post

　　“Turner crafts an amusing field guide to fundamentalism that’s

both a gentle lampoon of hypocrisy and misplaced fervor, and a

model of how to survive being ‘churched’ without cynically

rejecting the good with the bad, the Founder with his

followers.”

　　–Anna Broadway, author of Sexless in the City

　　“Matthew Paul Turner’s memoir has the insight of Anne Lamott and

the comic honesty of David Sedaris. His stories force us to wonder

which of our Christian beliefs and practices come from *ure

and which spring up out of our own preferences and fears.”

–Rob Stennett, author of The Almost True Story Of Ryan Fisher

　　“Finally! A bona-fide humorist in the North American church! I

might be tempted to say Matthew Paul Turner is Christendom’s answer

to David Sedaris, but Matthew stands on his own without the

comparison. A memoirist who doesn’t take himself or the world too

seriously, but still manages to write profoundly and beautifully,

Turner gave me a belly-laugh on almost every page. If you grew up

believing ‘being conformed not to this world’ meant being the

weirdest kid on the block, churched will be the funniest book

you’ve read in years!”

　　–Lisa Samson, award-winning author of Quaker Summer, Embrace Me

and Justice in the Burbs

　　“With his homespun humor and eye for living detail, Matthew Paul

Turner’s churched invites readers to rethink the quirks of

Christian culture for the sake of uncovering that which is

lastingly good and worth holding dear.  Turner’s work is a

refreshingly gentle discussion of faith and culture with the

potential to spark meaningful conversations.”

–Pete Gall, author of My Beautiful Idol

　　"If you didn't think Jesus-loving fundamentalist kids were very

funny, Matthew Paul Turner proves you wrong."

-- Jason Boyett, author of Pocket Guide to the Bible and Pocket

Guide to the Apocalypse.

　　“How can a book be so stinkin’ funny and yet so poignant at the

same time? Matthew Paul Turner found his voice! After reading

churched I wanted to hug him and then toss out all of my son’s

clip-on ties.”

–Jennifer Schuchmann, author of Six Prayers God Always

Answers

　　“Who knew that a journey through faith and fundamentalism could

be so painfully funny? I laughed out loud many a time while reading

churched. Matthew Paul Turner manages to channel both boyhood

innocence and wry retrospective through this fast-moving account of

growing up with Jesus in late twentieth-century America.”

–Mike Morrell, TheOoze.com

　　“A funny, heartfelt portrayal of one man’s attempt to find true

meaning despite his upbringing among fundamentalists who taught him

that Azrael–the cat from The Smurfs–was an agent of Satan. The true

miracle of this book is that its author never manages to lose his

faith.”

　　–Robert Lanham, author of Sinner's Guide To The Evangelical

Right

　　From the Hardcover edition.

书籍介绍

“Sweet-hearted, funny, and honest, Churched had me reminiscing about the little boy searching for God that I once was…”

— Dan Merchant , writer/director of Lord, Save Us From Your Followers

Churched details an American boy’s experiences growing up in a culture where men weren’t allowed to let their hair grow to touch their ears (“an abomination!”), women wouldn’t have been caught dead in a pair of pants (unless swimming), and the pastor couldn’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 parents’ sincere desire to follow God. In Churched , 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.

“ Churched is funny, poignant, and surprisingly moving.”

— Sara Miles , author of Take This Bread

“A memoirist who doesn’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 of Quaker Summer , Embrace Me and Justice in the Burbs

• 作者： 发布时间：2020-01-13 13:50:19

  ☺️里面有教人五分钟学学方法

• 作者：秋秋 发布时间：2013-01-07 22:14:46

  一个下午读完了，读得我好激动啊。之前看过一些ruby的语法，也看晕了很多JS的代码。现在突然看到了coffeescript，突然觉得就是我等JS白痴的福音啊。。。#全栈式人才不是好当的。。。

• 作者：秦岭山人 发布时间：2024-03-03 05:38:23

  ……

• 作者：单环 发布时间：2018-02-15 22:38:42

  还ok

• 作者：Yurki 发布时间：2008-10-25 10:48:25

  模仿的话，还不错

• 作者：躁马 发布时间：2022-04-01 01:21:25

  印象很深！

• 不过不失

  作者：skbooklove 发布时间：2006-08-24 16:53:46

  看完了。后半部分小说给我的最大惊喜就是派卡的出场，不过总的来说，他起的作用毕竟有很明显的人工痕迹。

  整部《白衣女郎》令我想起“善构剧”这个概念。没具体调查过“善构剧”是不是登文学史大堂的提法，记得最早看到好像是在读余光中译的王尔德剧本时。王尔德的四部喜剧都遵循“善构”的方法，非常注重事先对情节的构思和灵活的贯彻，确保将一个意料之外、情理之中的故事，用一种引人入胜的方式讲出来。可惜，王尔德将所有的心思都放在了“构”上，虽然作品中时现连珠妙语，但可惜在思想层面上还是火候不足。王尔德也是入狱之后才意识到先前的文学追求的浅薄。

  《白衣女郎》的创作时间比王尔德早了数十年，从剧情张力、人景描写甚至思想层面来看，《白衣女郎》都远远赶不上王尔德的作品，但也许正因为这部书的写法在当时还算先进，才成为了红极一时的畅销小说。

  虽然如此，今人如我在读《白衣女郎》时，仍然能够获得一定的阅读乐趣。可惜，自从读过乔治·奥威尔，王尔德那一脉的文学传统即被我放弃，《白衣女郎》作为消遣休闲，依然是不错的选择，但也仅止于消遣休闲而已。

• 小小的改变积累起来将会产生质的飞跃

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