And now, a few serious words from Jeff Foxworthy

That's an "On Religion" column. I also have more insider Substack stuff to share

AT SEA 2.0 — Greetings, once again, from the other side of the world, where I am a few hours away from the ruins of the most infamous, horrifying Australian prison there ever was. If you know your Aussie history, that’s saying something.

That island prison was called Port Arthur.

Let me assure you that it is a total coincidence that Port Arthur is also the name of the refinery-ringed city near the Texas Gulf Coast in which I grew up. No, I never net Janis Joplin, but I sort of understand her music.

Should I visit Port Arthur, Tasmania, or should I hang out with some kangaroos and maybe hit a cozy pub? It’s a hard choice.

Before we get to this past week’s “On Religion” column, let me share a bit of feedback to the “Thoughts after one year of Rational Sheep” post.

* First, I would like to thank the five readers who switch to “paid” mode. That’s very encouraging and I hope to get comments-pages feedback from y’all in the future.

* At the same time, I WISH that Substack software gave me information that would allow me to interact with the three “paid” option folks who, uh (#triggerwarning), dropped their subscriptions after the post with the year-one lessons and questions. That would be sobering feedback, I am sure, but I would hope it could be constructive.

* When I get back from almost four weeks worth of travel (including an exciting speaking opportunity in Houston), I may try to move to five posts a week (that would include sharing “On Religion” columns), with three of them on the large “free” list and two on the small “paid” list. I hear from people who say that I am sending out too much content, but — hey — this would give folks more options. Maybe a “chat” meeting soon? That would either be a text-message Substack forum or some kind of audio effort using the Substack platform. I want readers to be able to reach Rational Sheep features through the platform’s app or website.

Here are a few messages I got via email after the one-year report:

* OK, Terry. Carry on. Very odd that seminaries let media ignorance win the day. Maybe enrollments are low, budgets tight. (A communications professor friend)

* I just paid for the annual/$50. And yes, I want to be special and have something more than the free people. Happy 70th. I’m nearly there myself. (Orthodox reader in Kansas)

* I guess in response to your post I should let you know that I am subscribed for two reasons: first, because you are my friend and I want to support what you are doing. Second, because as a pastor I need somebody to tell me what's up and I don't have time between my two vocations or callings to spend much of my own energy trying to exegete the culture. (Orthodox priest in Maryland)

Finally, a reader attached this helpful “Substack culture” comment on the post itself, which I really appreciate. We need more comments-page content, folks!

From various things I've read, I think a conversion rate around 5% is actually pretty typical, so I wouldn't worry about that. I don't think yours is low for anyone that didn't come with a huge existing audience. For what it's worth, my content was all completely free for ages (and nevertheless quite a few people opted to pay, despite getting nothing extra at all). A few months ago I pay-walled my archive -- posts are free to everyone initially, and remain readable by everyone for four weeks, but for the rest of the archive, only paid subscribers can read beyond the beginning of each piece. Making this switch slightly (but not dramatically) increased the rate of paid subscriptions, and did not lose me free subscribers. I do now occasionally write extra "deep dive" posts which are only for paid subscribers from the start, but when I do this, I don't send them to free subscribers.

Now, for happier content. Ladies and gentlemen, some serious talk with comedy legend Jeff Foxworthy.

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No, seriously: Jeff Foxworthy is convinced that God has a sense of humor

As a rule, Jeff Foxworthy never refuses autograph requests, but the redneck comedy legend hit a wall during a funeral-home visitation for someone in his extended family.

"When you go to a funeral home, a lot of times there's more than one visitation going on," said Foxworthy, reached by telephone. "Across the hall, there was another one … and it was a rowdy bunch. In the break area they had coolers with cans of regular Budweiser. …

"At some point in the evening, somebody over there recognized me and they started coming into our side and wanting to get a picture made. You know, 'Can I get my picture with you?' … And one turned into three and that turned into seven or eight."

Then a woman arrived with a felt-tip marker and made a familiar request: "Can I ask you a favor?' … Can you sign my brother's tie?'"

Seeking an escape door back to his family, Foxworthy said: "'Where's your brother?' And she said, 'He's in here, in the casket.' And that's the only time I have ever denied somebody an autograph. … But asking me to climb up on the casket and autograph the guy's tie?"

The truth in this sobering parable is that humor often surfaces during life's big transitions, even when they involve sacred beliefs and traditions. That's one reason Foxworthy has never written "You Might Be A Redneck Churchgoer If" jokes.

Yes, audiences would yowl with laughter, especially in zip codes defined by faith, family, food and fishing. But for some people, religion jokes would cut too close to the bone, said Foxworthy.

After four decades in comedy, he said that he reminds himself, that "everybody I'm going to look at tonight is going through some kind of a struggle. It might be financial, it might be physical, it may be emotional. … I'm like, 'Just be kind to people.' You know? Have grace. You don't know their story. And I don't think humor makes people's struggles go away. But I do think … if you're able to laugh and set that burden down for a little bit, it almost, like, recharges you to where you can pick it back up and go deal with it."

Foxworthy grew up Baptist, while dealing with a broken home defined by a strong, church-going mother and a father who was married six times while smoking, drinking, cussing and hoarding Playboy magazines. The divorce was painful, he said, but his parents were both funny, in very different ways.

The turn to comedy came after Foxworthy left an IBM job -- he was a repairman in a business suit and toolbelt -- arranged by his IBM-staff father. After years of absorbing comedy by Bob Newhart, Flip Wilson and others, the young Foxworthy won an Atlanta talent show. He then hit the road, doing 500 shows a year for half a decade before hitting "The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson."

Since then, Foxworthy has topped sales charts with CDs, DVDs, board games, calendars, various television projects and 26 books, including "Dirt On My Shirt," a New York Times bestseller offering poems for children.

The comic calls himself a "Jesus follower," and he attends a small, intimate church with candles and old hymns. Foxworthy has also taught Bible studies for homeless men.

"I don't need to be entertained in church and unfortunately, I think that's what a lot of it is now," he said. "But I find it amazing that so many people go through their entire lives and never contemplate faith very much. I'm like, 'How could you not?' … It's like they never get around to thinking about, 'Why am I here? Why was I created? What's after this?'"

While many ask if Foxworthy does "Christian comedy," he said he never considered that career path, since "if I do that the only people I talk to are Christians."

However, he stressed: "I do think humor is one of the attributes of God and I don't know that a lot of people are freed up to see God in that light. … A lot of people just see God as having his hand cocked back, ready to knock you down when you mess up. I don't see Him that way. So, I think there's a lot of humor in God."