MetroReach

Subject: We are ALL Jason Bourne
Time: 11:52:50 PM EDT
Author:  kpchprather4

I admit it. I am a movie buff. Majored in Radio/TV/Film at Baylor. I tend to view film a bit differently than most. I guess it’s all that time critiquing film and studying it from a different perspective.  I tend to look for redemptive elements in film-that which is beautiful, noble and true. <?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

            I had an epiphany today. My son and I saw the third installment of the Bourne movies (The Bourne Ultimatum) last night, by far the best of the three installments. It was an incredible film: fantastic plot, great acting, stunning visuals, well written, great action and a great story. O.K.-I also enjoyed the incredibly choreographed fight scenes and car chases…for me it was the best action film I’ve seen in years.

            But it struck me tonight this was more than an action film-in a way it is a metaphor for us all. We are all Jason Bourne. In case you have not read Ludlum’s books, or seen the movies (the movies deviate from the books somewhat), I don’t want to confuse you-and if you have been following the series and haven’t seen the third movie, I don’t want to spoil it for you. As such, I will tread lightly.

            The premise: We first encounter Jason Bourne floating near death at sea. He is a mystery.  We do not know who he is or what he is about. He is rescued and cared for by some fishermen who find his near lifeless body floating in the ocean at night. The journey begins.

            Bourne does not know who he is. It goes beyond amnesia. Not only does he not know his name or why he was out at sea near death, as his story unfolds, he discovers that he does know MANY things-such as several languages not to mention an incredible knowledgeof weapons and hand to hand combat (at which he is extremely effective).  But his name…his identity…who he is-all escape him.  He wonders why he knows so many things and is trained to do so many things (and do them exceedingly well), and yet has no knowledge of his true identity.

            The movie unfolds. We discover that Bourne was a part of a secret government experiment-a project.  He is now a loose cannon and it seems everyone from <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" />France to Morocco to the US wants him dead. He does not know why. As the series develops, Bourne continues to find clues, brief flashbacks burst into his memory. He is trying to piece together the puzzle that is his life while at the same time trying to stay alive.  He is living, walking, breathing-but for all practical purposes, is a lost soul searching for “home.” Ultimately, even though the series might be categorized as a spy/action thriller/drama-it is the story of a man who is simplytrying to go home, wherever that is and discover his true identity. He does not like what he is and no longer wants to do the things he has done.  He wants to be free. He wants to know his true identity. He wants to live a meaningful life. He is tired of living in the darkness and running for his life.

            As I watched the movie last night, I thought about how horrific that would be, not knowing who you are, what you are meant to be, to not know your true identity, your real name-for life to be so confusing….and to only want to be free. To experience peace…but not know where to turn to find that peace.

            Tonight it hit me. We are all Jason Bourne until we come to Christ. Not that we are highly trained government operatives who have “gone black.”  Rather, apart from Christ, we are all spiritually dead, do not know our identity, do not know “home,” and are restless, desiring a peace that we can sense but do not know how to find. Augustine said, “Our hearts are restless until we find our rest in thee.”  How true. Jesus came to give us life and to set us free. To give us meaning and purpose. To bring us into the family of God-out of the darkness and into the glorious light of fellowship with our Father and into the community of faith.

            In the movies, Bourne gets help along the way as he tries to piece together the mystery that is his life, the pain that is his life.  We too, when we are lost, are blessed to have people (sent by God) who enter our lives, speaking grace, truth and love to us, that we might come to know Christ. That we might “come home,” that we might discover the life God intended for us-our true identity.

            Bourne is tormented by assassins and a kingdom (government) of darkness that desires nothing more than to snuff out his life. Apart from Christ, we are spiritually dead, and as the Scriptures say, we are not only in bondage, but we are captives to the Enemy. Yet there is, as Lewis pointed out, a “God-shaped hole” in our lives-and we want to know what or who will fill that-so we spend our lives trying to fill that hole.

            Some turn to themselves (man as master of his own universe), only to discover that effort is futile. Others turn to “success,” “materialism,” alcohol, drugs, sex, amusements, WHATEVER to try to fill that hole, to try to “find home.” Of course, none of these satisfies. We were created for fellowship with God and it is only through relationship with Him that we can find that wholeness, that peace.

            So, without spoiling the third installment-let me just say this: We are all Jason Bourne apart from Christ. For those of us who have been saved by God’s amazing grace, we should continually praise the God above all Creation for being so merciful to us. Not only this-but we must, because we have been commissioned, commanded to do so, go out into this world of darkness to help the billions of “Jason Bourne’s” “come home.”

            Watch the movies (start sequentially)-and perhaps engage your mind and heart in the process…in other words, don’t just sit back for the ride (though it is an incredible ride!), but think about the movie as a metaphor for life.

            Eugene Peterson says the “Gospel plays in a million places.” I was pleasantly surprised and blessed to discover today (Praise you Lord Jesus!) that the Gospel (even if Ludlum or the movie writers/directors did not intend) played out in this movie.

            Lost no more. Identity found in Christ. Home. Peace. How can we keep this to ourselves?

Grace and Peace,

Kevin

           

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Subject: Newsflash
Time: 12:02:55 AM EDT
Author:  kpchprather4
Mood:  Happy
Music:  That song by that guy...you know..it goes like..da da da..deeh, something

Spurs win. Hey: They might be a good team.

my shortest blog ever

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Subject: "Soul Bagging"
Time: 2:09:21 AM EDT
Author:  kpchprather4
Music:  The Space Between: Dave Matthews

Yes...I have blogged much this week-and they have been long blogs. You need to know up front that this is a long blog. But I need you to read it. To process it. To consider it. I think this issue is important and we need to take an honest look in the mirror. If you are willing...read on. And for those of you I might offend with this entry, I want you to know that is not my intent. This is pure passion speaking. We must wake up. Read at your own risk.

I mentioned "Crossover San Antonio" in a previous entry, that effort by our convention to share the Gospel all over San Antonio. 20,000 Southern Baptist came to our city-and a large number of pastors, ministers, denominational leaders, lay leaders participated in a massive city-wide effort this past Saturday to survey our communities and engage people with the Gospel. The intention is noble I believe, even though I also believe that going door-to-door is not the most effective nor the most Biblical way to carry out the Great Commission. 

On a pragmatic level, going door to door is not effective for several reasons: First, because of the aggressive door-to-door efforts of a few cults, most people (and I would include myself in that list) are not comfortable talking to an uninvited stranger about our soul-life.  Second, because of the fragmented and rushed culture that exists in our metro areas, home is the one place of "sanctuary" for most people-that place where they are able to escape from traffic, noise, crowds and the stresses of life. Sanctuary. Our lives are too busy, so we look forward to coming home to family and simply winding down. The uninvited guest at the door, no matter how well intentioned, is more often than not perceived as just another stream in the flow of hectic living. Third, a lot of people  have "picked up" on the whole door-to-door thing. Many see the door-to-door method as a sort of spiritual "hit and run"-and when it comes to spiritual matters, most people have a lot of questions, and they would much prefer to sit down and talk about these matters in an authentic and in-depth manner with someone they know, someone who actually sees them as a person, not a number. Someone who demonstrates through their actions they care about the person as an individual. Rushing through a list of questions with a stranger does not resonate with many.

This is not to say God cannot use this method. My point is-we need to seriously re-think what it means to truly carry out the Great Commission.  This is where my theological presuppositions come into play: If I understand the Great Commission correctly, we are to "make disciples of all peoples" (all people groups) literally "as we are going..."-meaning, making disciples, evangelism, is a part of daily life-not a program or a once in a while "blitz." The book of Acts certainly has underscores this way of making disciples as God's pattern for connecting with and engaging people with the Gospel.  But I digress..I'll blog on that subject in my next entry. This entry is more of a spiritual "rant." I want to offer suggestions as to how we can return to the Biblical roots of making disciples, not just complain. So the next entry, I will try to address that.

Back to Crossover and our door to door blitz. For our people who were involved, there were some meaningful experiences-some new relationships formed, people we were able to pray for, people with needs, people who were interested in further dialogue on God and the things of God. Seeds were planted.

But something happened, at least at this point it looks like it happened. And it disturbs me. I think this thing, if inde it happened, and from what I can ascertain at this juncture...it did happen is a part of our problem . "Soul bagging. " Or, if you prefer...adding a few more "notches on the belt." Let me explain.

I have to walk carefully here. There is a possibility I may be wrong. But all the evidence points to this being the truth, and I have been around enough pastors, ministers and evangelists long enough to know this type of thing occurs. Let me explain:

A man...I cannot divulge his name, not because you know him, but because in case I am wrong, I don't want to be judge, jury and prosecutor of an innocent man. But the evidence doesn't look good. Not at all.

This particular man, well, he is known. Well known and considered to be quite the expert in evangelism. He is known as being the quintessential evangelist. One of the "experts." 

He was with us.  He went out with us.

At the end of our time of walking through the communities and surveying people, people filed on the bus. Our experiences were different. Some had wonderful experiences. Some found people were not so happy to be visited. Some canvassed areas where very few people were at home (or chose not to answer the door).  As we were driving down one street to pick up another group, we saw this man and his co-laborer.  We opened the church bus doors and asked: "How's it going?"

"Great," the man replied: "Two people came to Christ so far." He was rather non chalant about the matter. As if this should have been everyone's experience.

A lot of us were feeling rather inadequate at this time. Two people? Incredible.  Praise God. But then again-he is the expert. He is the truly gifted one. He knows things we don't. He has something we don't. But underneath the surface, if you listened carefully to what people were saying, there was that underlying, unspoken thought: "Sounds too good to be true." But no one would dare utter it. After all, this man is the expert. We are not. We wanted to believe.

A few people on the bus whispered, "Man...it was tough out there. That's really incredible."

And perhaps that was the man's point. I don't know. I don't know his heart. Perhaps it was important for him to tell us that he still "had it" or maybe he wanted us to know that the expert doesn't fail. I don't know.

Tonight was revelatory. We followed up on those decision cards that were collected after the community survey.  We wanted to follow up on all of those who made a profession of faith in Christ. Here is where the story truly begins.

This man was working one particular street. Specific blocks. As we were going through those cards and calling those whom we believed made professions of faith-I was stunned.

One of our church members told me, "Pastor, most of the calls were good, some weren't home, but two people, well, they had no idea why I was calling. One said she wasn't even home and couldn't have had this conversation. The other was an elderly man who had no recollection of any conversation."

Did I forget to tell you that when we went canvassing we had not just addresses, but names, addresses and zip codes? We had some phone numbers as well. In other words-we had all the information needed to know whom we were visiting and how to follow up on the visits. All the information beforehand to fill out a decision card-name, address, phone...

It is here that the "expert" and the two bewildered individuals who were surprised to discover tonight that they had come to Christ converge.  I backtracked to see who might have filled out cards, reporting conversions that really didn't happen. I guess some people might have thought the church either wouldn't follow up or wouldn't go to the trouble to find out who was on what block when they filled out their reports. Maybe someone thought a falsified report would go unnoticed, but would still show up on the convention's "numbers." I don't know. But when two people say they have no recollection of a conversation or turning their lives over to Christ-well...something's not right.

You see where I am going. The expert, the well-respected man, well, his fingerprints were all over these two "conversion cards." It was his block, his address list-and yes..his words, "Great...two people have come to Christ so far..." echoed in my mind. Two people. Two cards. Two oblivious people. One very angry pastor. Two really confused people.  

Perhaps, in his ministry context and capacity, he needed to report back that he had "X amount of conversions." Maybe he had a quota. I don't know. But if this indeed happened, it is unacceptable. Are we so proud to admit that we "failed?" And did we really "fail" if we shared the Gospel and there was no response?

Of course not. Our responsibility is to share the Good News. God does the saving. We don't save people-He does. We are the messengers, not the Message. I wonder at times if we forget that.

This is where we are as evangelicals today-at least in some circles. This scene in my mind is a microcosm of a larger problem: We are truly not engaging people. We are inflating numbers because we want to "look good" or appear "successful." We are fiddling while Rome burns.

You may have heard the phrase, "ministerally speaking." That phrase is tragic...because it is a phrase ministers often use to refer to inflating their numbers. As in, "We had about 50 baptisms...ministerially speaking..." The actual number may have been 29. Twenty-nine...fifty...ball park it. The main thing is to be successful. Or to look successful.

And the most tragic thing about it all is that while we are patting ourselves on the back, inflating numbers, "blitzing" cities...talking big and paying homage to our "experts"-we are losing a nation, a culture, a generation. Not just Southern Baptist. Evangelicals as a whole.

It's much easier to fabricate conversions than it is to truly engage and invest and get involved in people's lives. If it looks good on the reports, that's all that matters, right?

But while we do this, inflate our numbers, engage in hit and run evangelism, soul bagging, and telling ourselves the great lie that all is well and we are on top of things...

People are dying. Dying apart from Christ. Increasingly becoming disillusioned with the American Evangelicalism Lite...we are losing the war. We have seen the enemy, and all too often it is ourselves.

Sound harsh? I do not mean to be harsh. But over the past few years I have become increasingly concerned about the "institutionalization" of the church.  We have forgotten that we are a movement, that we are spiritual insurgents, that we are not perfect (so let's take off these self-righteous masks and get real), forgotten that we are to love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, mind and strength, and our neighbor as ourselves. We have forgotten that making disciples apart from relationships only ends up with a revolving door to our church and very spiritually confused individuals. We ourselves are losing touch with spiritual reality. And perhaps at the root of it is pride. Fear of failure. Fear of confronting the very real and present spiritual realities that we face in America. Whistling in the spiritual graveyard.

So, we program, have our special events...stick our proverbial heads in the sand and congratulate one another on just how well we are doing-because we certainly are busy, so that must mean we are successful.

We must wake up. We must take a look at what God is doing around the world and ask "Why is this not happening here?" We must be willing to examine what we are doing, why we are doing it and how we are doing it as well as who we are doing it for.We need to get back to the basics, the foundations, and we need to humble ourselves before our God and our fellow man. We either do this-or we will look just like Western Europe within a decade-and if you do your research, you will see that this is cause for alarm.

So I end here. I end by asking questions, namely that we look ourselves in the mirror and be honest. Honest with God...honest with each other...honest with our lost world.

It's time to wake up and confront reality. No matter how painful that may be. Change will never happen if we don't. And the clock is ticking here in America....and we don't have the luxury of spiritual soul bagging. It's time to be about our Father's business. His Kingdom. Not ours.

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Subject: File Under "What Was I Thinking?"
Time: 6:26:01 PM EDT
Author:  kpchprather4
Music:  Elise Lebec

It's 98 degrees outside. I'm 44. My son is 14. I have 3 ankle reconstructions and a knee cartilage problem on my medical resume. My son once broke his thumb. I am 5 feet 8 and 3/4 (and that 3/4 is important to me because it means I almost made it to 5'9"-my son is just at 6'2".  Did I mention it is 98 degrees outside?

We just came back from playing basketball and doing some track work. Christian, the kid I have been referring to as my son, well, he can grab the rim and hang on it, but not yet dunk. He's doing plyometrics, lifting weights, doing speed work...because he wants to dunk before the end of summer. I once knicked the rim with my finger when I was 23.

We've been having a fun time hanging out, being guys...and today, Christian wanted me to go to the Middle School court where he works on his drills and help him with drills, go to the track and run with him, and then play him in a game. We were out there for an hour and a half. It really was hot because it was...98 degrees.

We brought water, lots of water. I promised afterwards to get him the "Big Gatorade" not to be confused with Elaine's "Big Salad" (a television reference for those of you who have re-runs as a part of your history-and boom, there was a song reference).  And we did all he wanted to do. We had a blast.

First we went to the track. Walked the first 400 meters just to loosen up. Stretched a bit. Then we jogged a 400, walked another to loosen up. Then we ran a 400. I was "feelin' it." Doing good. Then we moved to running 100's.  The first 100-I was on my game. I was flying. Memories of speed and explosiveness long since gone resurfaced. For one fleeting moment I was that 27 year old youth minister competing in a fitness contest in Garland (out of 70 something participants, I finished 2nd...that was a big deal to me)-and I was that guy who clocked a 4.62 40. I beat my son. YESSSSS! I could hear him behind me, close behind me, but I won.

The ego swells. I walk around the track with my hands folded behind my head...trying to talkasif I can really breathe..."Good effort son...you just need to open your legs more...get off quicker...I heard you closing in...you finished well..."  I should have stopped at that point. I should have drank out of my water bottle and said, "Well boy...your dad still rules..." but I didn't. I couldn't. I was Carl Lewis.

So we ran again. Another 100. Did I mention that by now my lungs are burning and yes...it's still 98 degrees? This time he gets off fast. This time he's shoulder to shoulder with me. This time he pulls away at the 40 yard mark. This time he's 10 feet in front of me at the 70 yard mark. This time he finishes about 17 feet in front of me. He turns around and smiles. Hmmm...what to say?

"Son...I wanted to focus on your form and noticed your elbows were a bit flared, bring them in closer."  (That is the reason of course I was so far behind).  But he's not buying it. He's laughing. "Dad...if my elbows were in closer would I have been even FURTHER ahead?"  O.K.-that trick might have worked 4 years ago-but it's not working now.

So I "coached" him as he ran some 50's and then some 40's.  Let him do all the work. We still have to get to the basketball court.

Oh, did I mention I forgot my hightops were blown out and I had to borrow a pair of his to play basketball? Did I mention I wear a 9 1/2 or a 10 depending on the shoe-and he wears a 13 or 13 1/2 depending on the shoe? I felt like I was trying to move with snow skis on my feet.

We got into his daily routine. He does this normally by himself while I'm at work. Dribbling drills, shooting left handed, right handed, lay-ups, pull-up jumpers, mid-range shots, three pointers. This is what he does on his own usually in the mornings. But I'm there now.  I am now "passing" guy-which is a good role because it means I'm not trying to run around a lot with these boats on my feet. It's good because again, he's doing the work.

Then comes game time. Game time has to come. It's a rite of passage for every son-but I haven't been able to stop him since he was just under 13. So I know what's coming.

Scheming dad shows up again: "Son-you say you want to work more on your left-handed dribble. This game, all you can do is use your left hand. To dribble. To shoot." His reply: "What about you-do you use both hands?" Of course I do. "Dad, can I crossover?" I reply: "Of course not son, because then the ball touches your right hand." He does not seem to pick up on this one. I am pleased.

We start to play. I'm wearing boats, my ankles are creaking and my left knee is ticked off that I'm trying to move laterally. I body up. Hard. (O.K.-I'm fouling hard). He keeps going to the basket, shoots left handed....rims out. I get the ball. Taking it barely to the backcourt I spin quickly (it caught us both off guard) and I get by him and throw up an off balanced fade-away over his outstretched arms about 10 feet from the rim, and nothing but net.  I act as if I always do that all the time. I am Manu Ginobili.

Next possession, he just blows by me and lays it in. I was trying to bump him. No dice. This pattern continues. I do score one more basket...from about 2 feet beyond 3 point land because frankly I'm too tired to even want to drive. It drops. Of course I knew it would. I am Big Shot Rob.

But Christian wins. Left handed. He wins because he's a lot better than me. I try to tell him that it would have been a close game about 15 years ago.  Of course it would dad...I wasn't born yet. He misses the point. Ego deflated. I am the guy in the NBA who doesn't get to dress for games. I know he still would have won had I played him 15 years ago. Funny how pride works.

I am beet red. Sweat and toxins are pouring out of my body. I am in the Sudan. My lungs burn. I am going to die. He decides to work on free throws. I become rebounding guy. I like that job. Little movement involved. He makes his freethrows and then we leave.

Home. Sanctuary. Cold shower and a huge glass of ice water. Life is good. He's relaxing now, getting ready for practice tonight. Life is good. I am alive and the AC works-so it'sall good.

But not as good as it was outside in that 98 degree temperature. That was fantastic. This was a Sabbath of sorts. Father and son-not about competing or winning or losing, not about the heat or the smack talk. It was about communication.

You see, we talked about other things as well. I am blessed. My son and I are close. It was great to be with him and not worrying about phone calls, "to do" lists, appointments, schedules...just being together and talking about life. Everything from basketball to girls to God.

I joke when I say I should file this experience under the "What was I thinking?" cabinet. This cabinet can never be full enough. Because, as I mentioned in a previous Blog...time flies.

Yesterday I was an invincible 20 something youth minister who ran a 4.62 40 and benched 280 lbs while weighing 164 pounds.  Today, well, my 40 yard dash time might require a calendar. Oh, I still am a workout freak...but time catches up with us all. Things slow down, break down, wear down...

But I wouldn't trade whatever "glorious experiences" from the past-whether it was that fitness challenge or completing a triathlon in Wisconsin for what happened today in the sweltering heat of San Antonio in June. Those personal things-they feel nice and what not-but it's when we're outside ourselves and investing in others-especially the ones we love the most-you know, those people that are known as "family"-those are the important times. So...time flies.

It's what we do with the time we have here that counts. And never let anyone sell you the lie that the time you spend investing in family and friends is a "waste of time"-it's not. It's holy and special and all too often we get so caught up in "our" thing that we forget the people who are so important to us.

And that's a tragedy. And we wonder why so many families don't communicate... why so many kids won't talk to their parents. I have a gut feeling it's because too many times we are too busy for our own good and we send the message to those we love-"I'm too busy...but I'llget around to you."

Wrong message. Time flies.

 

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Subject: Me and "the Boy"
Time: 1:55:30 PM EDT
Author:  kpchprather4
Music:  Dia Del Sol-Chris Spheeris

The lovely and engaging Mrs. Prather (my wife) and my daughter are in Washington D.C. right now-a school trip. My daughter's school was one of two schools selected in Texas to go to D.C. to be a part of the National Anthem Project. There, they will see sites, and they will sing the national anthem on the White House lawn, meet "W'...it will be quite the experience.

That means me and "The Boy" (to borrow from Homer), my son, Christian, well, we're at home. Yes, last night we stayed up late and swapped manly stories, but I didn't make waffles this morning (50 bonus points to anyone who knows what movie that is from).  Me and the Boy.

He's not so much "The Boy" any longer. He's 14. 15 comes in September. He's right at 6'2" (mom has height genes on her side of the family-I missed that part in the genetic sweep stakes), and he's no longer that tiny 5 lb 8 oz newborn I held in my hand over 14 years ago. And that seemed like yesterday. Of course, I personally have not aged over this fourteen year time period...but he sure has.

Time flies. That sound so cliche. To those of you under the age of 22 who read this, trust me, it does. The past fourteen plus years have been the fastest fourteen years of my life. One day he's learning to walk, the next he's jumping high in the air on a basketball court and hanging on the rim just because it's fun. One moment I'm clapping my hands and shouting for joy because he said his first words and the next minute I'm thinking "In a few years he's going to college..." yeah...time flies.

So one half of the family is in D.C., taking in the sites and will be hanging with the Prez at some point this week, and the other half is here...and time just keeps moving. It doesn't slow down.  There are moments to experience as special and holy and meaningful...and moments to miss because we're just too busy. Too distracted.

So I took today and Thursday off. Tomorrow he's coming to work with me for a while. We'll go out for lunch. I do this because time flies. I do this because I don't want to be one of those dads who looks back and says, "I wish I'd been around when my kids were growing up."  I do this because I am ever mindful that time flies and this moment will come and go. It's what I do with this moment that matters.

So, today, we'll walk down to a Middle School and we'll play some hoops outside in the 95 degree heat. We'll come back and hang out. We'll talk about everything from God to faith to Spurs to being goofy, because that's what fourteen year olds love to do...and then tonight we'll make our way to basketball practice, come home, talk, pray-then hit the rack.

Some might say: "If you were a good Christian you'd be taking your son out witnessing today or maybe you would take him to a soup kitchen to serve someone...I don't see what's so special about what you are doing."

Yes, I am responsible for discipling my son-and he has had many of those moments-we just don't advertise them. But the holy isn't confined to church buildings or soup kitchens.  Time itself is holy.  What we discuss during our time together is our business, not something I would advertise to the world. 

Our time  may sound mundane-but it's not. It's gloriously holy and special. It's important because time flies.  It's important because these life moments count. You can't get them back once they are gone. It's important because I know that time with my son is important.

And that is true about a lot of things in life. We often miss out on the important because we are so caught up in the urgent or the mundane or whatever.  No, I won't cut and paste the lyrics to "The Cat's in the Cradle," I'm not going there and that would be a bit sappy. But the general idea is there. You don't want to look back and say, "if only..." because you can't get that time back. Once its gone...its gone.

I pray your day is special...meaningful. Love well, love fiercely. Enjoy the moment while it is here...because time does fly. Time is holy-and our relationships matter. God hasn't called you to sacrifice your family on the altar of anything, no matter what others may say.

And for those who say: "Didn't Jesus tell us that we were to love Him more than family? That those who left family for His sake would be rewarded greatly?" Well...you're missing the point.  He also chided the religious leaders of His day for neglecting their families in the name of religion (1000 bonus points if you know what I'm referring to). His point was that we were to love Him more than anything or anyone-and that includes family. He wasn't telling us to NEGLECT family. Just to love Him more than anything.

And if we're honest, we're all working on that, growing in that area. But the Scriptures I read have a lot to say about family relationships and time and love and mentoring...and being there.

So be there. Because time flies.

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Subject: I am NOT a Witness....
Time: 1:25:56 PM EDT
Author:  kpchprather4
Music:  Bill Douglas

He is the Chosen One. The Second Coming. He is the King. Thousands of people around the world  are Witnesses. No, I'm not speaking about our Lord and Savior-or Christians...I'm talking about LeBron James. In case you've missed it, these are some of the names given to this 22 year old basketball phenom who plays for the Cleveland Cavaliers.  His most popular moniker is "King James."  But he is also known as "The Chosen One," "The Second Coming" (of Michael Jordan, but that's rarely qualified), and he is known as King James.  Cavalier fans and LeBron fans across the world wear T-Shirts that say: "I'm a Witness." Tonight you'll be able to turn on your television where the NBA Championship series returns to Cleveland (did I mention they are down 2-0 to my Spurs?) and you'll see signs all over that say, "I am a Witness."

After Cleveland won the Eastern Conference Title by beating Detroit, there is this now famous shot of LeBron, his back to the camera, facing the crowd, arms upraised towards the crowd, as he soaks in their praises and adoration.  All I could think of was, "wow...bro...you need to reel that worship in..." My second thought was: "And you might want to chill out because you're ticking off the wrong people (Tim Duncan, Manu Ginobili-that adds fuel to their fire). But it's out there. The image. And the image speaks volumes, not just about LeBron, but about us.

It would be disconcerting to me if he played for my home team. It's disconcerting because it speaks volumes about our culture, and yes, it speaks about LeBron.  I don't think I would feel comfortable with people calling me "The Chosen One" or "The Second Coming" (of anyone), or having people say of me, "I am a witness..." -or calling me "King whatever" (I have been called "Lord of the Idiots before, but that's another story). But the odd thing, he seems to revel in it. Encourages it. Me...well, I'd be thinking God might just thunder from heaven: "I will not share my glory with another!" Maybe a few lightening bolts. No, I don't think I would feel comfortable with that even if I did have his considerable talents-and make no mistake, the young man is simply one incredible talent. Those talents were given to him by God to be used for His glory as are all talents He gives us. And this kid, wow, he got the motherload when it comes to the talents given department.

But it's the fans that concern me even more. Talk about the cult of personality. Talk about hero worship. Talk about living vicariously through sports figures. Talk about sports as religion and athletes as a part of our new pantheon of 'gods'-this has all the elements of ancient Greek religion, minus the human sacrifices and fertility cult practices of course...but maybe the way we're heading, we're only a decade or so away from that. Of course I'm kidding. That wouldn't happen. At least I don't think it would happen. But if you'd told me 10 years ago that people would be calling a basketball player "The Chosen One" or "The Second Coming" or saying, "I am a Witness..." I'd have said, "You're nuts..." Who knows. Not much in America surprises me today.

I wonder if LeBron played for San Antonio, would our city have the same reaction? Would Christians in San Antonio? You have to know and understand San Antonio to answer that one. We're a bit different. Low key. We've seen two of the "50 Greatest NBA Players of All Time" (according to the official list) pass through our city-and are seeing right now what coach after coach and basketball historians is calling the greatest power forward to ever play the game (Tim Duncan) play right before us-and our city has our three championships, looks like a fourth is coming...I don't know if that whole thing would "play out here" the way it might elsewhere. But, maybe I'm wrong.

Maybe we'd get caught up in the hype that is fueled by the NBA and shoe companies and soft drink companies...the cult of personality is strong and increasingly we Americans are amusing ourselves to death, and living vicariously through athletes and entertainers. Even finding our meaning in mere humanity.  I know the Spurs coach wouldn't put up with it. He always tells his players: "At the end of the day, it's just a game and you are fortunate to make a living off it. The real heroes are those people fighting overseas. That's reality. This is just a game." It wouldn't happen on his watch.

So, as we watch this "drama" unfold...I just want to say "I'm not a Witness." I love basketball and appreciate talent when I see it-but I'm not a witness.

And as I write this, I wonder, what would America be like if believers were as eager to tell others "The Chosen One" has come! "The King has come!" "I am a WITNESS to His Glory and Greatness!"  Passionate sports fans seem to outshine many of us professing Christians in that passion department. We are witnesses to something far greater, to SomeOne far greater....

Be a Witness.

Oh-just so you'll know, Spurs in 5. To borrow a phrase from that great theologian Russell Crowe in the movie Gladiator as he speaks to the evil Emperor Commodus: "The time for exalting yourself will soon come to an end."

The King made a big mistake. He got the "Big Fundamental" angry with all the self promotion. The "Big Fundamental" (Tim Duncan) has this strange view that you just play the game with passion, go about your business and don't draw attention to yourself.

What a novel idea. A transferable idea when it comes to us living out our faith: Be who you're called to be, do what you're called to do, do it with passion and excellence, be about your Father's business and remember: it's not about you (or me).

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Subject: Conversation 1
Time: 3:21:09 AM EDT
Author:  kpchprather4
Music:  Enya-Once You Had Gold

Really, this is conversation two, because this conversation took place tonight, a day before the one listed below-but this conversation has much to do with the one that I wrote about (see below), that it makes much more sense when read in this order.

Tonight, I had the privilege of having dinner with one of our visiting Southern Baptist (he and his wife) on the Riverwalk and it too was just a fascinating conversation. And, in case you read the third Blog entry, this gentleman did not fit the stereotype, just in case you were wondering.

Tonight I met with a man who wants to better understand how to utilize the Blogosphere to get a message out-a message of reform, a visionary message, a message calling us as Southern Baptists back to who we are, a missional people-a man with a passion and a vision and a strategy that was simply compelling and at the end of our two hour visit-I wanted in on what God was and is doing in his life.

His name is not important for me to relate at this time-though to me and many others he is very special. He is someone well known in Southern Baptist life, an author, a former missionary overseas-a man who pursues God and has this incredible desire to see Southern Baptists be known more for their Christlikeness than their contentiousness, more for being on mission than being institutionalized.  He is concerned that we might be more devoted to programs than reaching people. More devoted to sacrosant traditions and hierarchies than Scripture. He has a heavy burden for reaching this emerging postmodern generation because he sees the handwriting on the wall-unless they are reached, the state of Christianity in America does not look good. He wanted to talk about the usefulness of the Blogosphere to connect with people and start sharing this vision God has given him.

I am not at liberty to divulge his name. Some of you may know of him, some of you may not, but at this point, his identity is not the point-it is his intention-what God has placed on his heart. That is the thing.

He desires to impact our convention as well as our world. I will leave it at that at this time.  He is interested in learning more about the Blogosphere and how this wonderful tool can be used to connect with people-to share what God has given him, to put certain items on the 'table' for discussion (items that NEED to be discussed) because he sees a denomination that needs to be awakened, needs to reform, to change and a culture and world in desperate need of Christ.

BTW: If you are one of those "heretic hunters" he's not talking about changing theology-his concern is that we have lost our way in who we are as Christ followers, concerned about the program driven, political machinery of our convention-concerned that we have forgotten we have always been a Great Commission people and need to truly return to that, and I fully agree with what God has placed on his heart.

I love his passion. I love his vision. I love the strategic thinking. I love the faith. I love the hope.

I love the humility.

I have not given you much in terms of specific details. I can only say at this point that he has ten very specific things he wants to introduce, or better yet, re-introduce into the Southern Baptist conversation-and it is long overdue.  It is needed.  And he wanted to talk about Blogging.

I am not an expert Blogger as you know. But he is gracious enough to read my ramblings and so we had fellowship, a meal and a great conversation. His passion became my passion.

You might think that such a man, concerned with "getting a message out to a lot of people via the Internet"-far more people than I reach with my little endeavor here, is motivated because he seeks power or prestige or position. You would be wrong. Remember how I said his humility impressed me? Check this out:

He said the issue wasn't really if he became prominent or gained some office-the issue was that these 10 specific issues be placed on the table and discussed. The Kingdom was and is more important than him pursuing any kind of personal kingdom. That is what struck me.

A passion so great you can't contain it. And yes, it is a Scriptural, God-honoring and God-saturated passion.A passion so great you have to share it with as many people as possible because you know it is a right, noble and good passion. One that honors the King.

And as we were talking, and he mentioned this postmodern generation and his concern for them and how we had to stop being so concerned with the political machinery and once more become passionate for the people Christ is passionate about (paraphrased), I thought about my conversation with my young postmodern friends last night.

There are hungry and passionate and visionary people of all ages. They see things as they are and they cross reference them with Scripture and they say, "There is so much more that we are missing out on-we can't continue to "play" church-or "play" Christianity.

Perhaps, as he continues to pray and work through these issues, he will go "public"-and I promised that if/when such a time came around, I would do all I could to help get the word out-to be a resource to him in whatever way I can-even if all that I can do is link his upcoming blog and or website (with his message) to my little Blog.

I just find it interesting that for two consecutive nights, I met with people 23 years younger than me and then maybe 20 years older than me-and there were commonalities-a sense of urgency, a sense of passion, vision and a burning desire to see God do great things. 

God is not "dead" in America. His Spirit has not stopped working in our land or among the people of God. There is this growing "tribe" of people who can no longer remain silent, sitting in pews and just "doing church" and propping up programs. They see a culture to engage and a world that needs Christ and they want to follow Him wherever He leads, regardless of the cost. It's not about them, it's about the King and His Glory and Honor.

And for these reasons, I am blessed. Two great conversations two nights in a row-two holy conversations two nights in a row. Two Kingdom conversations two nights in a row. Two authentic conversations-and one Holy Passion.

Yeah. I am encouraged and blessed. I pray we all awaken to what the Spirit of God is doing and desires to do in our midst. It is far greater than our finite minds can imagine.

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Subject: Conversation 2
Time: 2:48:01 AM EDT
Author:  kpchprather4
Music:  Subway-Alex De Grassi

I had a wonderful conversation this Sunday night-it may have been around two hours, maybe a little more, but it was one of those conversations where you lose track of time because you know you are on holy ground.

The conversation was three college age students and me.  I am continually amazed at this generation.  They are often discounted, dismissed, marginalized, forgotten-and God have mercy on us for doing this because this generation is the lowest "churched" generation in American history-the lowest percentage of professing followers of Christ in American history.  These "Postmoderns"...well, for many...they are either a "lost cause" or simply too far out there to be reached.  Tragic assumption. Tragic reality-we are losing a generation-and the figures don't look good.  Unless this generation is reached in some profound way, the spiritual landscape of America will look very much like that of Western Europe within 20 years or less.

This conversation was incredible. These kids were wrestling with Scripture, what it meant to live out the Christ-life, wrestling with God, what it means to truly abandon themselves to Him-what it means to truly be in an authentic relationship with Him. It's sad to say, but that conversation was more spiritually in depth than most I've had with people twice or three times their age.

They want more than external religion. More than "churchianity." They know that the church of Jesus is the redeemed people of God, not a building. They know that Christianity is at its essence a subversive movement against the pattern of this age.  They know Christ calls them to the edge and they are willing to go-eager to go! They just want someone to model, assist, listen, process things with.   The believers of this generation are crying out, but few are listening. They want to be a part of a movement, to be on mission, to live for something, rather someone much larger than themselves.

All too often the subtle message sent by older believers is this: "Well, that's just youthful zeal. When you get older you'll settle down. And speaking of settling down, sit in your pew and be still. This is what Christians do."

But they see through that. They see through that because when they read the Scriptures, they don't see the Christian faith as a spectator sport-it is a journey, a pilgrimage, a movement. Not something you 'do' once a week.  And, to be frank, when many of them look out at the American evangelical landscape, they wonder why so many professing Christians seem so content to live compartmentalized lives in which Jesus is just another "add on" to their daily routine. Call them idealistic. Call them "postmoderns"-but don't call them naive.

Yes, postmodernism raises new issues for the world, the culture, and yes the church.  But some, in knee-jerk reaction, flip out and quickly condemn the postmodern worldview assuming that every postmodern professing believer must certainly deny the Scriptures and probably believes in the end every person goes to heaven and that there is no hell (universalism), and probably doesn't believe absolute truth exists...all sorts of assumptions. But I have not found this to be anywhere a universal truth when it comes to postmodern believers. Sure they have some issues to work through because the postmodern worldview denies absolutes exist (but it would be wrong to assume that someone who comes from the "postmodern" generation denies absolute truth), and there are some other ideological and philosophical elements in that worldview that need to be measured against Scripture. But let's not prop up modernity, fueled by the Enlightenment as the "Scriptural" worldview.

Many "moderns," because of the Enlightenment, because of their ultimate trust in the High Priests of Science and Rationalism have their issues as well. Miracles, believing in the unseen (heaven and hell, angels and demons)-well, a lot of "moderns" have a problem with these things. And-a lot of moderns have this idea that they have completely figured God out-the creation defining the Creator, the finite fully grasping the Infinite. There is a lack of wonder, awe, reverence at times in the "modernist" camp.

So, as postmoderns do not have any problem believing in what they cannot see, being amazed at the wonder and mystery of God (for those who think they have God "figured out" and placed in their nice and tidy theological boxes, read God's response to Job when Job demanded God give an account of Himself, or just read Isaiah 6-our God cannot be taken lightly, controlled or tamed)-these postmoderns are amazed at just how awesome God is and see Christianity as a journey of continually growing not only in relationship with Christ, but also growing into Christlikeness.

And sometimes we "modernists"-well, we have lost that sense of wonder and awe.  We are uncomfortable with any mystery, so we tell ourselves and others that we have everything figured out. 

So here I was, caught in between generations myself in terms of worldview, having this incredible conversation that still reverberates within me. A holy time. An incredible time.

Part of me wishes a lot of believers could have heard what was discussed-because I believe these are the types of conversations that should be normative for followers of Christ-edifying, sharpening, challenging, encouraging, God-saturated conversations, because a big part of me wants to shout from the rooftop that this generation is worth investing in, is eager and hungry and searching-that God cares deeply for them and we should as well.

And part of me wants to shout just how much these young people energize my faith. They certainly keep me on my toes. They can pick off inauthenticity in a heartbeat. They can smell a "Sunday school answer" a mile away. They want to see the Christ-life fleshed out-and they want to flesh it out themselves.

Take a look around you. Notice the 18-25 year olds with the wild hair, the strange piercings, the body art or maybe it's just that hungry look inside. Don't dismiss them. They remind me of someone. Remember the "Jesus People" (well, some of you are too young) of the 1960's and early 70's? Those "hippies" who came to Christ and were so radical they wanted to do things like stay up all night studying the Word, singing praises, praying, talking about God and the things of God-telling others about Jesus Christ?

This generation reminds me a lot of that one. I only pray they don't turn out like that generation-eventually homogenized, institutionalized, consumers, not investors, spectators, not doers. But I don't think they will. They are unlike anything we've seen. God could do amazing things with this generation if we would simply pray for them, come alongside them, invest in them, train them, and turn them loose.

They honestly believe God can use them to change the world. Some call that naivete-I call it faith that moves mountains.

 

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Subject: God in the waiting room
Time: 1:53:30 AM EDT
Author:  kpchprather4

Finally back and what a trip. It is somewhat of a blur, but we just got back  from MD Anderson. After my last  post I had an hour and a half sleep, drove to Houston, arrived at the hospital at 6:40 a.m. and we left around 6:40 p.m that night for a quick meal and then to a hotel. 

Tuesday was a very long day filled with tests and more tests...and waiting. Lots of waiting. In between there were conversations with specialists and just about the greatest doctor I know...he  spent at least an hour with us going over brain scans (to say that we humans are incredibly and wonderfully made is such an understatemen!t) and talking to us about NF type 1 and where we are at this time with our daughter...(doing good!) and some of the secondary things that NF kids deal with and how we can process things and help her in those areas...it was fascinating stuff to learn. Hannah did a great job. She's a reslient and determined kid. More importantly, she (and we) have a Great God.

There was 6 hours of testing on Wednesday. A little more dialogue and explanation. Like I said, it was a blur. but in the midst of it all there was God who continued to display His goodness, faithfulness and graciousness. God right there in the stuff of life...God in the waiting room. God in the midst of uncertainties (and this particular trip was one uncertainty after anothel)...but...God was present. Just like He promised. Faithful. Always faithful.

Also  in the middle of all of this were people. Namely children and their parents. Most everything we do takes place in the child and adolescent center of the hospital so most of the people we meet are parents and their children. We meet people, hear stories. see things. Amazing things.

There was Daniel. He's 17 years old. When i first saw him sitting in the room with his mom, nothing unusual stood out. He looked like anyone else I've ever met except there was a soul weariness that was quite evident. You could see it in his eyes, the kind of fatigue one would normally associate with someone much older who had expereinced a lot of pain in life...but he is 17.

He was diagnosed with leukemia at age 9. Aggressive treatment began at that time. For over 1/2 of his life...this HAS been his life. He is at this time in remission, but there are the regular trips, as you can imagine, and this young man hasbeenn through the wringer. We spoke mostly to his mom. He preferred silence. There was a certain numbness to his demeanor that spoke of a long life lived over a 17 year period. We talked about God and blessings. His mother seemed to enjoy that. She was vibrant in the midst of it all...a remarkably strong woman. Daniel smiled when i told him he was a real hero in my eyes...that God had truly given him a great blessing. He seemed to like that. Seemed to need that. I was reminded of how we all need encouragement. Especially those who are living in the valleys so to speak.

I can't imagine what his life has been like, to know in some way, ever since he was in 4th grade that there was this thing called "death"-and as he grew in his understanding of it all, to process those things and have them continually hanging over his head, a part of his everyday life. Again, he is just 17.  

By the end of the day he was asleep on a couch, worn out from the testing. Always the testing...It doesn't seem to stop. But it is necessary. Important. Because life is important. yes...you see people. Sometimes, when you are paying attention, you see far more than the externals, you catch a glimpse of that person as an individual and in a small way, a glimpse of the journey they have taken. You see, hear and feel.

You see the small Arab girl with a bald head because of her treatments, wearing a face-mask because her immune system is so low that any airborne disease could be very dangerous to her...sitting quietly in the children's play area of the waiting room, working on a puzzle.  You wonder how much of this she understands. For this small child, this is what life is like. I wonder if she ever wonders why other children do not have to wear such a mask.

You see a small baby in her anxious mother's arms, same face-mask...and you wonder. You wonder what that mother is thinking. If you look closely you can see a parent who would gladly trade places with her daughter if it were possible, to take the pain away from her, to bear it for her.

You wonder what to say. What to do. You see these children and teenagers in many conditions. Some are in remission. Some are fighting. Some are just discovering what it means to begin this journey.

There are the NF kids-some show little signs outside of the caffe au lait markings on their bodies, some walk around with little and sometimes large fibromas or deformities because the gene that causes NF "goes off" (and you never know when or if it may go off) so you wonder as a parent-will it "go off" on my child? You know you are not supposed to be anxious or worry about tomorrow. So you entrust, as best you can, all to Him-but honestly, in your frailty, you have moments in which you wonder. You see all of these things and you wonder. And this leads you to pray even more.

You definitely pray. You pray becasue you see so much. You pray because you wonder. You pray because you realize the fragile nature of life and you pray because it's simply the right thing to do. It's not the "only" thing left to do-it is the best thing to do.  You pray because you believe God still moves mountains, that He still heals. Such contexts tend to remind us just how dependent we are on God. We tend to forget that for some reason.

Today we met a teenage girl and her parents. they were  from Jersey. We have something in common because my brother in law is from there. The girl was a beautiful young lady-probably 16 or 17 or so-she looked perfectly healthy. Just as we were beginning to engage her parents and her in conversation she was called out of the waiting room so she could be seen by her doctor. We don't know her story. but she was there...and if you are there you have a story to tell. 

So you pray for the family and you pray that God would reveal Himself in their life story.  You pray for everyone and their stories. You pray because you believe God is able to work in remarkable ways just as He says He can.

I titled this blog 'God in the waiting room'-and you may be wondering why. Where was the sermon? Where was the incredible miracle? The angelic visitation? Where was God in such a place?

God was there. He wasthere in the prayers of His people. He was there in holy conversation. He was there as Healer, Comforter, Strength. 

He was there in Hope.  It sounds counterintuitive to say that in such a 'depressing' place, there is such Hope. But there is...profound Hope. There is hope because the work of the Spirit of God is not confined to the four walls of a church, nor to seminary campuses or church retreats...He is always working-and He works in so many places and in so many ways. He works through His people who preach His love through their actions. He works as His people pray.  He works because He loves His creation.  He is at work because in such places people are seeking Him.

The facility is simply huge. 16,000 employees alone. Add the patients-around some 40-50,000 people in and out daily. It's a city within a city. Everything is there: restaurants...game rooms...libraries, gift shops, Starbucks (as if there would be a place in the U.S. where Starbucks is not) , large, beautiful atriums-a chapel, a meditation room...a computer center...the list goes on.

I went to the meditation room today to pray. It was a wonderfully quiet place, low lit-Christian imagery in the room. It gave me time to pray, reflect...and meditate on just how Good and Amazing our God is. How He had walked with us and was walking with us. how He was present.  He was there in a profound way in that room...but He was not confined to that room.

You can encounter God in a lot of amazing places... even in a waiting room.  If you are looking. if you are listening. You will see. You will hear. He is present.

And i think this is true of anywhere we go. Maybe the thing is we just don't notice His presence as often as we should.  Yes, He will be in services Sunday so do not miss out on the corporate worship experience. God does inhabit the praises of His people. But He's with you now. Don't forget that.  No matter where you are.

 

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