I’ve put in my time, listened to the many, many words of Rhett and Link on their podcast, Ear Biscuits. I was especially eager to hear them tell of their “Lost Years”–somewhere, I assumed their faith might be explained. This is why I pressed on for hours of menial house chores, my phone nearby. That, and I really think they’re cool people.
(They could totally use some editing. Two hours runs a bit long for a podcast or any reasonable conversation. This particular Ear Biscuits series on their faith turned out to be somewhere near ten hours of listening time. Shoo!)
Several years ago, I discovered these hilarious guys when I ordered a Sing Thru the Bible video on Amazon Prime. Interspersed with other Phil Vischer songs (one for each book of the Bible) and silly puppets (like, unbelievably silly, if you’ve seen VeggieTales), these two crazy dudes sat on wooden stools on a stage, big wigs on their heads, suits reminiscent of the Righteous Brothers circa 1970. With Rhett on guitar and Link on recorder and singing harmony, they blew my mind with their creativity, their incredible Bible knowledge, and the amazing secret silly sauce that is child appropriate humor–nay, it was enthralling. It was everything I wished I had pursued, that dream I let die somewhere in college when I came to the reality that very, very few people get to be Muppeteers on Sesame Street and get to write knock off cover songs for colorful, hairy monsters to sing.
After my four year old worked his way through the video series and had memorized all the kings of Judah, the Judges, and the stories of Nehemiah, Ezra, Elijah–the list went on–I decided I ought to look these guys up. Phil Vischer I knew well, but Rhett and Link? They were magic, yet unknown–or so I thought.
To my surprise I found a whole world of Rhett and Link online, lost only to me because until we moved off the mountain, I was clueless about videos on the internet. I haven’t spent hours watching their Youtube channel, Good Mythical Morning, but I do love to watch a silly clip here and there with my boys. The humor is typically mild and safe for preteens, weird enough to captivate my own weirdos. Rhett and Link test out Ben and Jerry’s ice cream. They see if pig guts will dissolve in neon goo. They challenge each other to drink disgusting concoctions; they ask questions like, will it hot dog? And, will it s’more?
These comedians are few, you know. Interesting, clean, and completely absurd? Count me in. I dug around, looking for more of their VeggieTales-type material, but it was apparent there was no more collaborating with Phil Vischer post-Buck Denver. The video they had made was a one-and-done sort of deal. Online, their presence was only silly morning show–no religious or Biblical undertones. I was curious. Who are these guys? If they’re Christians, Mormons, or even just some sect of nice guy morality, why not use their platform to promote something more than ice cream experiments? My kids memorized whole sections of the Bible with Rhett and Link’s brilliant creativity–what stopped them from filling this niche? Why did they mellow to a vanilla flavor of secular comedy?
It turns out that in February they were ready to address my very question. I just had to listen to the longest podcasts of my life to find out.
In the first episode titled, The Lost Years, Rhett and Link revisit their time as highschoolers, active in church, forming a band, playing in a local “Christian” coffeehouse. They were sincere young believers, secure in their convictions, though they loved performing more than anything else. If they, for the matter of being good church boys, could only play original worship songs, it was still worth the time spent on stage. Performing was where it was at–give them a hot microphone and a minute and the stars rained down. They admit, “we thought Christian music was a bad imitation of good secular music,” but they were willing to make sacrifices. They were Christians, after all, “in the world, but not of it.”
As they moved on to college, they became involved with a campus ministry where they plugged in as worship leader (Link) and emcee/entertainer (Rhett). Through their quirky influence and engagement, the weekly gathering grew from a couple hundred to a couple thousand. It was if the Lord was really blessing them, right? But Rhett and Link speak nothing of this as they gab. They are telling the story, the story of how they became internet stars. They don’t discount the impact certain people had on them–if not for them, we wouldn’t be here today–but the focus is on performing, getting the laugh, securing the connection that would move them to the next bigger platform. They moved up the ranks of college ministry, eventually finding themselves in a position to influence other young people by becoming–wait for it–missionaries. Campus Crusade missionaries, raising money to be self-supported, evangelists to the young evangelicals. They were uncomfortably aware of how ministries use a bait-and-switch approach to “outreach” programs, and decided on using satire and humor to lighten the burden of evangelizing the lost.
Those are some big words, if you aren’t the churchified type. Rhett and Link are not wrong to come to the conclusion that we’ve made it far more complicated than Jesus intended. Several times throughout their podcast, they pause and explain what “outreach” means (a pointed way to meet the needs or pique the interest of non-believers in hopes that through it, they might come to a “right relationship” with the Lord) as well as other well-known church words.
“I was raised in a Christian home…”
So begins the ubiquitous testimony of American evangelicals everywhere.
“I grew up in the church,” the nervous speaker will say, “I got saved when I was six.”
Eventually they’ll toss out a storyline where sin reared its ugly head, forcing a tangent (easily reeled in–don’t confess anything major that’ll cause your grandma to blush), leading them to rededicate their life to Christ and, for the boldest, to get re-baptized.
If one is brave, he or she might toss out a shudder-worthy word like “legalism”. But most of the time, the testimony won’t shake the sanctuary or evoke more than a hearty pat on the back. It’s simply the story of evangelicalism and good kids everywhere, even Rhett and Link.
It’s also the typical ground where, as Jesus put it in Mark 4–seeds fall on shallow or thorny ground. The sprouts spring fast and quickly wither, or else they can’t withstand the temptations or worries of life.
Many of our churches are shallow and thorny places, and our similar testimonies prove it.
As I listened to Rhett and Link’s breakdown of everything that eventually led them away from faith in Jesus as the Lamb of God, Forgiver of sins, Redeemer of men–eventually to absolute denial and claiming “hopeful agnosticism”–I thought, this is more common than we think.
It’s as common as our good boy/good girl testimony of being raised in the church. It is a six year old feeling bad about sin or scared about Hell, and doing what Mama and Daddy said I ought to do–walk the aisle and ask Jesus into my heart. It’s as common as knowing what you believe and never opening your Bible to ask hard questions of God. It’s never thinking you’ll hit rock bottom, because bad things shouldn’t happen to good people. It’s as easy as ignoring who God is and what He requires–in favor of being a well-liked, well-respected person.
It’s as simple as pointing out that some good Christians are just a poor imitation of charitable secularism. It’s easy Christianity–it left Jesus out a long time ago. This is why growth is stunted, why people abandon the faith: our church is too shallow for roots to dig deep.
In later episodes, Rhett and Link each go into depth describing what led them, ultimately, to deny their earlier faith. For Rhett, it boiled down to questions, contradictions, science. For Link, he couldn’t reconcile his love for the LGBTQ community with the lack of acceptance he felt there was within the church.
Another man, Ian Harber, also walked away, dissatisfied with the answers he got growing up as an evangelical church kid. He hightailed it away from his conservative upbringing and pursued progressive Christianity–he wanted more grace, more “wokeness”. More concern for the world and progress without so many rules and “sovereignty”. He writes about his awakening in an excellent article for The Gospel Coalition. Over time, he realizes his former faith, now deconstructed, must be reconstructed if it is to serve him as a firm foundation. The groundbreaking, earth shattering truth? Love is God reigning in our lives, transforming us. It is God who is holy, not us. It is God who awakens us. Truth is found in Him, and our alignment with his Word is what brings peace, hope, and satisfaction.
Harber quotes Peter, as he confessed to Jesus–”Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life!” (John 6)
I can’t say I am sad for Rhett and Link. Listening to the end of their podcast episodes (surely they owe me a couple dollars?), they said to be sad for them would be an insult to their integrity. After all, wouldn’t I feel insulted if someone said they felt sorry for me for being a Christian? So I won’t feel sorry or sad.
But I know a thing about redemption, and I’ve read a few things about sheep and coins. God chases down lost things. He’s a vine, and we are branches, and even if we started out in thorny, rocky patches, He can rearrange the garden; He can reconstruct what we ourselves have deconstructed.
The evangelicals, the agnostics–He can bring dead things to life.
My brothers, if one of you should wander from the truth and someone should bring him back, remember this: Whoever turns a sinner from the error of his way will save him from death and cover over a multitude of sins.
James 5:19-20
Read Ian Harber’s excellent article, ‘Progressive Christianity’: Even Shallower Than the Evangelical Faith I Left.
Read my follow-up post, Rhett and Link and the key to Undeconstructionable Faith.
