Back in the 90s, comedian Jeff Foxworthy did a bit called “You Might Be a Redneck if . . .” What followed the “if” was something like “ . . .your wife’s hairdo has ever been destroyed by a ceiling fan” or “ . . .you refer to the 5th grade as ‘my senior year’.”
What follows is a similar set of criteria for sorting out the true PKs from everyone else. Without further ado, and in the inimitable Jeff Foxworthy spirit:
You might be a Pastor’s Kid if . . .
. . . you can explain the difference between a narthex, a lobby, a fellowship hall, and the commons.
. . . you consider yourself the Zorro of sword drills.
. . . Psalty, the Donut Man, and McGee played a greater role in your upbringing than Bert, Ernie, and Mr. Rogers.
. . . you won at least 12 prizes for scripture memory feats.
. . . your high school t-shirt collection was comprised entirely of freebies from church camps, sports camps, and missions trips.
. . . you never ate Sunday lunch before 1:30 PM.
. . . you snacked on communion bread.
. . . everyone at church is on a first name basis with you while you’re on a “who are you?” basis with them.
. . . you never went to a New Year’s Eve Party because you had to be at the midnight candle light service instead.
. . . you’re pretty sure “don’t run in church” is the 11th commandment.
. . . you ever army crawled under the church pews.
. . . you destroyed everyone at cops ‘n robbers at church lock-ins because you knew every hiding place.
. . . the little old ladies all want to set you up with their grand daughters/grandsons.
. . . you were told to kiss dating goodbye. And didn’t listen.
. . . you organized paper airplane throwing contest from the church balcony.
. . . you knew precisely which adult Sunday school classes had the best pastries to pilfer.
. . . you were Picasso with the church pew golf pencil.
. . . you attended more weddings and funerals for strangers than for people you knew.
. . . you ever hit a walk off grand slam in Bible trivia baseball.
. . . you and a sibling used to baptize each other in the bathtub
. . . the scariest thing you ever dressed up as for Halloween was Goliath, except it wasn’t for Halloween; it was a Harvest Party/Fall Fest/Trunk-or-Treat.
. . . the old ladies’ scrutiny of you put the NSA to shame.
. . . you pulled shenanigans because why not? You were going to get blamed any way.
. . . you recommitted your life to Christ at least 7 times.
. . . you thought your name was So-and-so’s-son (or daughter).
. . . you never volunteered for anything at church because you were volunteered for everything.
. . . You could blackmail half the church.
. . . Half the church could blackmail you.
. . . You sat in dread each Sunday waiting for your name to be uttered from the pulpit.
. . . Every major holiday was interrupted by a church service.
. . . You know what it means to “raise my Ebenezer.”
. . . You can list, off the top of your head, the 10 commandments, the 12 tribes of Israel, and all 10 plagues in less than 2 minutes.
. . . You speak like a normal person except when you pray. Then you’re either Shakespeare or Taylor Swift with laryngitis.
. . . You ever re-wrote worship choruses as something . . . less wholesome.
. . . You knew every word of every song on every album of at least 4 CCM bands at one time.
. . . With a mere two words of prompting you can offer both a benediction to a service and blessing over communion.
. . . Your first ever concert was a Christian band. Bonus points if it was held at a church.
. . . You went on at least 4 short term missions trips.
. . . You have a mental glossary of 150 youth group games and know how to cheat at all of them.
. . . You got asked weekly “So, are your going to be a pastor when you grow up?”