A thought inspired by my friend and Pastor Curtis Zackery (pictured).

Most people know that the Gospel writer Luke was a Greek citizen and a doctor by trade. But it’s a little less known factoid that the Book of Luke (the Gospel) and the Book of Acts were actually written by Luke as a 2 volume historical treatment to document the birth of Christianity and the manifestation of God to the world. I believe Luke realized that he was an active participant in the only force that would ever go on to be a blessing to all nations. He was without question a legitimate scholar, and it can be argued that he coined the genre of biography. But Luke’s credentials go way beyond his classical Greek education, as he was the Apostle Paul’s personal physician and scribe for many years. Being a doctor and scholar, Luke was compelled to interview all the family and disciples who survived… mother Mary, Jesus’ brothers and sisters, Peter, John..etc.

Mark and Matthew had already penned their eyewitness histories, but as you’ll read in his opening statement, Luke wants to ensure his readers realize that what he was going to write was not a philosophy or a religious text, but a pure history based on eye-witness testimony from credible sources… just as one would expect from a Greek scholar. I thank God for Luke. Every believer does. Luke told us more about the life and acts of Jesus and the apostles than any other single bible writer. One of my favorite examples is Luke’s telling of the Apostle Philip’s encounter with the Treasurer of Ethiopia… a Eunuch, on a desert road through Gaza. For me, it’s one of the most palpable events in Christian history.  It even offers a glimpse into the space-time continuum… but the beginning and apex of this moment in history are far more amazing than the sci-non-fi ending, as it contains a profound message… a message the Lord surely spoke through his servant, my friend Curtis Zackery on Sunday, July 24, 2011 at Strong Tower Bible Church in Franklin, Tennessee. As soon as you have a half hour to kick back and listen to a teaching that will genuinely bless you and challenge you to trust God, try this message. If you’re ready right now, click Here and then click the first track in the list, “Arise and Go South.”

Thank you Curtis. The Holy Spirit spoke through you this day. More please. Amen.

Go to WhoisCZ.com for more on Curtis Zackery.

The spectacle was beamed live around the world on ESPN, and no state in the U.S. tuned in at a greater per capita rate than Ohio. Men and women piled into Cleveland area sports bars. Kids put down their X-box controllers and came in from the yard to gather around the TV with fingers crossed and prayers flying high. I heard more than one Ohio native say that Lebron was going to announce he was staying loyal to his Cleveland, Ohio team. “Why else would he hold a live press conference?” they asked. Surely not to break the hearts of his fellow Ohioans. No one could be that heartless. Surely it was his own flamboyant way to energize a state that had many reasons to be depressed, and to revive the hopes Cleveland fans who were still demoralized by his melt down against the Celtics. Restauranteers in downtown Cleveland had already announced they would have to file for bankruptcy if Lebron quit on them, as the Cleveland Cavaliers’ relative success with Lebron was rightly credited for providing the sole reason to pack into downtown Cleveland for sports-loving merriment from November to June for six strong years. School kids across Ohio were holding impromptu rallies and sending letters to Lebron by the truck load, begging him not to abandon them. If Lebron was planning to jilt his Ohio brothers and sisters, he surely wouldn’t do it in a way that got their hopes up. He would have simply let his agent send an email or letter to the media like every other great player before him that ever left a city or state that loved him. When Lebron showed up at the press conference wearing an Opie Griffin plaid shirt and rambled for 30 minutes before making his announcement, it was shaping up like an almost brilliant move to show his wholesome heartland sensibilities… and my Ohio friends tell me they were sure he was going to evoke cheers across Ohio and send the children of that struggling state to bed that night with restored hope in their sports hero. Then came the infamous words… I’m going to “take my talents to South Beach” and join the Miami Heat. I hear stories of Cleveland restaurant owners smashing beer mugs against the wall, and far more about children all across Ohio crying themselves to sleep. Not wanting to become a Lebron hater, I found myself hoping this would drive the children of Ohio out of “The King’s” court, and into the court of the living God. Surely God heard their prayers… right?

My Christian friends who are not sports fans think those of us who follow sports with great enthusiasm are practicing idolatry, and for the most part they’re probably right… for the most part… but not entirely. One need only read the bible to see that God has a vested interest in athletics, and the Apostle Paul often used direct references to competitive sports as metaphors for the crucified life and pursuit of “the prize” of life in the Kingdom of Heaven. In 1 Corinthians 9:24-27 Paul references track and field, the Olympic Games, and Boxing en route to stating he strives to ensure he is not “disqualified for the prize.” When I’m asked by fellow believers to name one of my weaknesses, I always have to admit I’m probably a bigger sports fan than a man of God should be. As a Bostonian, following our pro sports teams is part of our culture. Some of my earliest memories involve family members crying over the Red Sox and celebrating over the Celtics. I was born in 1963 when the Celtics had already won 4 championships in a row. I was 7 years old before they would finally end their untouchable run of 10 straight crowns. BIll Russell was as big a hero to me as Martin Luther King, Jr. and Bobby Kennedy. It was a legacy that spurred both me and my brother to becoming year round athletes. Having blue-collar parents who had no choice but to leave my brother and me as latchkey kids throughout the 70′s, I reflect back and realize that God used my time as a little league, high school, and college athlete to cement what little character, morality, team ethic, and leadership skill my mostly Godless folks tried to instill in my brother and me… even though none of this was done for God’s glory. Proof that He does indeed “rain on the evil and the good.” So please forgive me for my zeal for sports, but I believe (along with the Apostle Paul) that God has long used sports to teach us and even to break us. Which brings me back to Lebron.

Upon hearing of Lebron’s tweet attributing the end results of his 2011 season to the “Greater Man upstairs,” most commentators are making statements like “God has bigger concerns than who wins a game.” But my God is engaged in every single atom on earth… not one bird dies without His permission, He knows the very number of hairs on our heads and grains of sand on each beach and every star in the universe. So surely He is interested in sporting events that affect the psyche and emotions and even the character of millions of people around the world… especially when His name is being invoked. As a fan of the New England Patriots, I witnessed him inject himself into Superbowl 42 to ensure the “perfect” 2007 Patriots would not win, as their false-humility, well-documented cheating, and the immoral lifestyle of their superstar quarterback (Tom Brady, who has since married and is proving to be a great dad to his illegitimate son) were not to be rewarded… no matter how badly I wanted it, and no matter how sincerely I prayed He would forgive and restore them just a few months after all their transgressions. For those who don’t know what I’m referencing, this was the game where a previously unknown receiver for the opponent New York Giants named David Tyree made a miracle catch by pinning the football to his helmet while being slammed to the ground by one of the hardest hitters in NFL history (Rodney Harrison). Tyree is a born-again Christian, and he went on record afterward to state he knew without question that God made that catch for him, and knew at that point that God would ensure the Giants would win the game… which of course they did. For the record, Rodney Harrison is also a born-again Christian, and he agreed with Tyree. All things matter to God, and His law of retribution (secularists and Hindus call it “karma”) is still in effect. We reap what we sow.

Most now know the rest of the Lebron James story. After his unconscionable press conference, Lebron instantly became the most hated man in professional sports. He still had his fans, especially Miami Heat fans and a minority of kind-hearts who held out hope and empathy and even admiration for Lebron due to his past history as an under-spoken super-star athlete, but for the most part he had surpassed even Tiger Woods as the most demonized athlete on planet earth… which at first surprised me, as Tiger had been revealed as an adulterer, womanizer, serial liar, and even worse… a man raised by his father to be a Christian but in effort to minimize the moral crimes of his adultery against his wife and family announced in his own infamous press conference that he was choosing to commit to a life as a practicing Buddhist to weather the storm. Tiger Woods was my golf hero. I loved me some Tiger. As a fellow American/Asian half-breed, I identified with him on many levels. I was ready to forgive him for everything he had done… but denying Christ as a defense for his adultery? I was stunned. That was blasphemy to me, and I believe Tiger’s continued woes since that announcement surprise to no one… except maybe his fellow Buddhists. But what had Lebron done so wrong to surpass Tiger in the hate department? As I listen to ESPN commentators on both sides of the debate… those who have been demonizing him and those who have been defending him alike… it all goes back to the “take my talents to South Beach” press conference… which he followed the very next night with the uniform-clad “rock concert” stadium rally (another unprecedented spectacle) where he and his two superstar teammates descended from a man-made tower screaming and posing like super heroes… with smoke machines and fire flares popping as they strutted like super-models down a literal catwalk through a staged crowd of adoring fans reaching up to touch the hem of their garments. All the while the packed stadium screamed in unison as if it was a post-championship celebration. This was the spectacle where Lebron uttered the next quote that he will never ever live down, and will absolutely never accomplish. When asked how many championships this “greatest trio of players” could bring to Miami, Lebron answered by saying “not 2, not 3, not 4 [as the crowd's adoring screams grew louder and louder], not 5, not 6, not 7.” By no coincidence Lebron’s reckless prediction eclipsed the 6 championships Michael Jordan had won during his career, and this was coming from a man who had yet to win a single championship. To a true sportsman, it’s taboo to even predict 1 crown… so it can’t be overlooked that he skipped right over “not 1″ in his infamous quote… which is now appearing to be an prophetic omission. Not 1. Not 1.

Lebron went on to state he will gladly take on the role of villian for the rest of his career, and started to mock Hall of fame players and ESPN commentators and even average fans who criticized him, and also began to mock his opponents whenever the opportunities arose. Throughout the season he beat his chest with every thunderous dunk and game winning shot, and he continued on his path of unprecedented arrogance and narcissism that would embarrass even Narcissus (a fictional character). Then came the high pressured NBA Championship finals this week, and as ESPN’s Tim Legler so poetically stated, Lebron James “looked like someone who was dragged onto a roller coaster but doesn’t like thrill rides.”

As I read the headlines today, the day after his final epic collapse in a series of game ending collapses in this year’s NBA finals loss to the lowly/humble Dallas Mavericks (yes, he choked, collapsed, disappeared, shrunk, insulted his fans, got outplayed by inferior players, and left his teammates hanging just as all the headlines state), I can only pray that the kids who follow this sport and adults who might have continued as Lebron fans see the bigger picture… and how God himself might have injected himself into the sports world to make a statement to those who are watching and listening… just as he did to the Patriots in ’07.

Late last night after his shameful post-series press conference (that included no talk of championships or his “talents”) Lebron tweeted, “The Greater Man upstairs knows when it’s my time. Right now isn’t my time.” Which made me wonder, if Lebron is the self-proclaimed “King,” who exactly is this “Greater Man upstairs” to him? I know Lebron was raised as a Christian, and all Christians know a human “King” is a derogatory term in Jesus’s vernacular, so might Lebron also be converting to Buddhism? Probably not, but his shameful behavior over the past year is certainly proof that he is not a born-again believer, and that we do in fact “reap what we sow.” My Pastor Chris Williamson (who is a Miami Heat fan) put it best in his post to my facebook wall last night, “Pride goes before destruction and a haughty spirit before the fall” (Proverbs 16:18). Amen.

At the end of Lebron’s press conference last night, when asked how he felt about all the people who were cheering against him, in his final act of arrogance and superiority he took a sad shot at all his critics who are financially poor compared to him. Lebron simply said,

“…at the end of the day they have to wake up tomorrow and have the same life that they had before they woke up today. They have the same personal problems they had today. I’m going to continue to live the way I want to live and continue to do the things that I want to do…”

To that I say, Thank you Lord, that I will never have to wake up as Lebron James. I’d rather be poor and lowly, humble and meek, than to wake up as one who believes himself to be a king. So today I dust off my feet of Lebron, but as I erase him from my sporting mind I pray that God break Him completely, and give Him another chance to serve Him as one born-again in Christ. What a beautiful testimony he would have. Before I was born again I was probably a far worse sinner than you Lebron, So please know I have no desire to judge you unrighteously, but simply hope to call you unto repentance. If you are a friend of Lebron, I pray you’ll forward this to him. Amen.

[Please note that I did not create the photo above, nor is it a spoof. It is an actual Nike ad].

A short film from Frances Chan to promote “Crazy Love”… A Must Read for True Disciples. Frances has quickly become one of my modern heros. Read this book and you’ll see why. Francis Chan is the best-selling author of the books Crazy Love & Forgotten God, and the host of the BASIC.series. He has also written the children’s books Halfway Herbert, The Big Red Tractor and the Little Village and Ronnie Wilson’s Gift. Francis is the founding pastor of Cornerstone Church in Simi Valley, California, and is the founder of Eternity Bible College. He also sits on the board of directors of Children’s Hunger Fund and World Impact. For more about Francis go to FrancisChan.org.

My father was always away at sea in those days so I barely knew him, but I knew all too well that he constantly cheated on my mother, so I remember wishing he would die at war — to end my mother’s suffering and to send me home to Boston. But on that day in the black room with my new teen friends, for the first time I realized that my father was just one torpedo from a horrific death that would tear my world to pieces, and it changed me a bit. Partly because I genuinely loved my dad and wanted only for him to stop sinning against my mother, but mostly because I could see what the war was doing to the teens of that generation… especially the lost boys in that black room.

Within a few months of that very memorable day the Navy moved my family to Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. It was 1971, and though I was suddenly thrust onto the most beautiful spot on planet earth I was also seeing daily evidence of the horrors of war like never before… not just through an increased number of school mates who were losing their fathers in the war every week, but also through the living monuments of WWII death that remained in their un-resting places in the infamous harbor. I had a daily view of the USS Arizona monument and the 1000+ dead sailors it held in its watery graveyard, which laid just a few hundred yards from the balcony of our little apartment. I was just an 8 year old, but I was already dreading the day I too would be drafted and sent to die in a jungle somewhere, as my teenage friends at Pearl Harbor far surpassed my friends back in CoaCoa where their sense of fatalistic futility was concerned. They spoke as if God Himself was behind all this horror, and they lived as if a trip to play “Vietnam roulette” was an inescapable reality. For most teens of that day, they were right.

40 years later as I watched President Obama give his Memorial Day speech from the Arlington National Cemetery, I was reminded that young “Barry” also lived on the tiny island of Oahu during my years there. I’ve often searched my memory banks for times I might have played ball with him in little league, or maybe splashed around with him on the formerly blood stained beaches around Honolulu. Being a half-breed myself, I easily remember several half-breed kids of the black/white combination who like Barrack were just a couple years older than me, so maybe I had a brush or two with him way back then… but one thing I know… young Barry was also a child exposed to the daily horrors of wars past and present and likely knew many more kids who lost their dads to Vietnam than I ever had. Oahu was the gateway to the war… the paradise doorway to death in a land not so far away. So as I listened to the President today read from Isaiah 6:8, “Whom shall I send, And who will go for Us?” …in the context of those service men and women who bravely stood up and said, “Here am I! Send me…” my first response was wracked with emotion as I teared up in mourning for all those teens — many whom I knew as kids and played with at military bases across the USA — who either by choice or force found themselves bravely facing their death before their lives had even begun. I honor them today and every day… and sincerely pray for their families’ healings. They faced horrors only a genuine veteran of foreign wars can ever grasp… and no movie nor book can even scratch the surface of the depth of their suffering as they faced death or dismemberment on a minute to minute basis. If this is you…. I want to thank you for your bravery while still just young men and women… sincerely, I thank you. But as I continued listening to the President’s speech it quickly occurred to me that no matter how poetic and emotionally charged President Obama’s use of Isaiah’s words were on first blush, it is a tragic misuse of the Holy text, for God was not calling men to die in wars for the sake of nations in that verse, but to lay down their lives in the spiritual battle for the sake of His Kingdom… not death of flesh and bone while attempting to kill the enemy of a different race or creed, but death of self to battle the enemy of our souls. One “might” feel the President deserves a pass for misinterpreting this critical verse, but not if you expect him to have simply cracked the bible to read its point blank explanation in the very next verse… Isaiah 6:9-10, which most scholars agree is the most important verse in the entire book of Isaiah, as (by no mere coincidence) this is the verse Jesus most powerfully quoted for its profoundly deep meaning and purpose for anyone who would claim to be His follower. See here what Isaiah wrote as the Lord’s instructions for him once he answered “Send me”:

⁹ He said, “Go and tell this people:

“‘Be ever hearing, but never understanding;
be ever seeing, but never perceiving.’
¹⁰ Make the heart of this people calloused;
make their ears dull
and close their eyes.
Otherwise they might see with their eyes,
hear with their ears,
understand with their hearts,
and turn and be healed.” (NIV)

As you’ll see in your own study, Jesus quoted these words when explaining why so many will hear his Gospel, but not understand… and thereby refuse to be transformed (healed, born-again) as He commanded for anyone who would hope to become His follower.  See Matthew 13:9-17, Mark 4:9-20, Luke 8:9-15, for direct quotations of Jesus’s own use of Isaiah’s words. See also John 12:37-41 for the apostle John’s use of Isaiah 6:9-10 to emphasize this correct interpretation in the Gospel he penned. And for anyone that would erroneously say Jesus was speaking only to the Jews, see Acts 28:23-28 and Romans 11:1-10 where the Apostle Paul made clear this most critical element of the Gospel message was also for the Gentiles (the rest of us), and even inferred that Gentiles like the President and myself should be more inclined to listen and understand and turn to be healed, as we were not born into the yoke of the old covenant subjected to the “hardened” followers of Moses. In these verses Paul also made clear that God continues to preserve a remnant among the Jews who would understand, and turn to be healed — himself included  – several of whom I have the honor of calling brothers in Christ today. One would think verses from Isaiah that were most often quoted by Jesus and the Apostles would be near and dear to the heart of any legitimate disciple of Christ. Yes?

Today, as I honor the death of so many from the generation that preceded my own, and the suffering of the young people from my daughter’s generation who are dying today in foreign lands… I send out this plea and prayer to young Barry Obama. Mr. President, don’t you remember? Didn’t you too see the watery tombs that rest just a few yards from the beaches you and I played on as children? Don’t you too still hear the cries of our childhood friends who lost their dads during those horrible days? You keep saying you love the Lord and are a Christian… but I’ve never heard you refer to yourself as one who has been born again in Christ, as surely your life and your words reveal that such a transformation has yet to happen in you, or else when you read Isaiah or the words of Christ from the Gospels you wouldn’t so egregiously misuse or twist their meaning, but would “see with your eyes, and hear with your ears, and understand with your heart, and return and be healed.” Healed of your lukewarm devotion to Christ…. healed of your tendency to misuse or “strain out” snippets of scripture to tickle ears… healed of your tendency to let politics trump the agenda of the One you call GOD… healed of your ignorance to the teachings of Christ and the true reason He has given you the favor to find yourself as the leader of the secular world. I pray you crucify “self” and pick up your cross while you are still in this most powerful office, and be the first President in American history to obey Christ at all cost, where even your most recent predecessors who each claimed to be evangelical Christians so miserably failed… to endure the persecution that would come from both the left and the right… to disregard how others would demonize you for rising to the highest calling of the One you call GOD… to take the words of Christ whispered into your ear and begin shouting them from the rooftops as Jesus commanded… to love our enemies… to turn the other cheek…. to put the needs of the widows and orphans of war ahead of historic policy (instead of forcing them from their home and leaving them in a state of destitution despite their great loss and sacrifice)… to put an end to interests of the rich and powerful overriding the interests of the least… the interests of Christ… to finally disregard the “cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches”… to once and for all begin to serve just ONE master… the only Master… not the Master plus your job, but only Him… for the salvation of your soul… for the redemption of our nation and the nation of Israel… until the day that Isaiah prophesied… and Jesus promised…. the day we “make war no more.” Barrack…. be ye transformed as the little child… remember the heart God gave you when you were still little Barry… and be truly born again as a new creature in Christ who will never again show off your phylacteries of your memorized scriptures, but instead will live the Gospel as one chosen to take up your cross and follow HIM, and Him alone. The Lord is asking you Mr. President… “Whom shall I send, And who will go for Us?” Will it be you? Or will you too put your hand to the plow but continue looking back… serving two masters? He’s calling you Barry. Amen, and AMEN.

God spoke to me Sunday…. multiple times… so I have a beautiful story to share. It was as if I was seeing several fibers weaving together into the thread of my life, and in turn woven into the full fabric of His ongoing narrative. I hope my story speaks to you… on many levels… through numerous threads of your own.

On Friday I returned some cargo pants to Belk. They wouldn’t refund it directly to my debit card, but instead gave me cash. So I found myself carrying a $100 bill in my money/card clip, which is something I try to avoid unless I’m traveling. Sure enough, by Saturday morning as I was heading to the gun range to practice with my modern day swords, I realized I had misplaced my money clip, and as I tried to retrace my steps since last use it occurred to me that if I had lost it I was going to face the nightmare of urgently replacing all my credit cards,  my driver’s license and my gun carry license (good Gospel-based topic I’ll cover soon), and of course I might also have lost the $100 bill. To be clear, it wasn’t my potential loss of the cash that bothered me. My real burden was from the fact that I could have given that money to someone who needed it… maybe tossed it into the basket at Church as an impromptu love offering or handed it arbitrarily by God’s lead to a stranger in need. Thankfully I found the clip, so I chocked it up to “live and learn.” Late Saturday night my daughter Amber and I headed to our favorite local theater (Thoroughbred 20 in Franklin, TN… which rocks!). About midway through the film, at a point where the action was getting thick, I heard someone sitting near me drop their cell phone onto the floor, and it sounded exactly as my Droid would sound if I had dropped it in the theater (yes, it happens a lot), so I checked my pocket and it was safe and secure… good thing since Verizon charges $500 to replace this phone if lost. Amber even said to me, “daddy, I think you dropped your phone,” to which I answered “no fear, it must have been someone else.” When Sunday came, I was on my way out the door to church when I went to grab my Droid and money clip from their traditional resting places, and though I quickly found the phone, the money clip was once again nowhere to be found. Before I could complete my full sweep of the house and my car, the alarm bell and light bulb went off in unison… that wasn’t someone elses Droid that hit the ground in that dark theater, it was my MONEY CLIP. Oh the irony. I haven’t lost a wallet or money clip since I was 15 (and what a frantically disturbing experience… something I vowed never to experience again)… but by all logical deduction, my number was up… and this time I had a couple hundred dollars to lose… including that notable C-note. As I jumped into my car to race to the theater, hoping against hope, realizing I might have to miss church while dealing with this self-fulfilled mini-crisis, I quickly dialed the theater and got a busy signal. Please trust that I do my best to always walk in oneness with the Lord… in a state of constant communication with Him, come rain or shine. So on this dreary day that started with me gleefully readying for church, I instead found myself anxiously racing to a theater, re-dialing their phone every minute, while asking the Lord to forgive my disrespect of His gifts, and also for His help to overcome the frustration and shame I was feeling for being so irresponsible. As my mind flashed back to that frantic day when I was 15, I honestly felt a warm wave of calm overcome me… as the Holy Spirit reminded me that He was still ALL that matters, and that through my worship and obedience to Him, even in my times of stumbling, He is the same God that has taken all of my past mistakes and woven them into beautiful stories for the sake of others… and for me. So I received that… and praised Him for that truth… and simply trusted that He would once again make a little beauty out of my ashes… if I would simply believe… and be patient to wait for the story to play out.

I was about 5 minutes from the theater when the phone line finally rang, and for some strange reason a live voice answered. I didn’t care to ask what happened to the arduous recorded message (20 theaters make for a LONG recording) so I immediately put my faithfulness into action and calmly asked the woman who answered if someone had turned in my money clip from last night, and added the rhetorical that we would likely “find out how honest the young clean-up staff is” at the theater . Her immediate tone of professional empathy was very unsettling, as she stated that she would already have known if such an item had been turned in, but she asked me to hold while she checked the safe and after a minute or two she came back with an even more empathetic tone and said simply “I’m so sorry, but no one turned it in.” She asked me which theater I was in so she could look, but I told her I would be there in a few minutes to go look for it myself. At that, she put her manager on the line to ensure I got into the theater with no delays. The manager’s name was Pamela, and she immediately put me on hold to go double check the safe and to ask members of her staff if they knew anything about it. As I was pulling into their parking lot, she came back on the line and empathy had now turned to sympathy, as she confirmed that no one turned it in and then asked which theater I was in when I lost the clip. Since she was a manager that I felt I could fully trust, I told her “theater 10″ and said, “I’m heading through the door right now so I’ll meet you there.” As I calmly raced through the maze back to the theater (yes, as a track guy I can attest that it’s possible), and walked right by several check points along the way as if I was invisible, just as I was about to enter the door to theater 10 I suddenly heard the strangely calming sound of jingling keys coming up behind me. When I turned around a young lady asked, “are you Mr. Cap-ree-us,” and I immediately knew she had good news, as only someone trying to read my name would mis-pronounce it so badly. She then said “I think we found what you are looking for.” I had already dismissed that possibility, but it appeared “hoping against hope” can be a fruitful experience.

As we walked back to the office, she explained that it had been in the safe all along, but that the previous employee and Pamela the manager both overlooked it. Mystery or miracle, I didn’t really care. All I knew was that there was a good chance I would avoid the nightmare of replacing all my critical cards, and at that point I hardly gave the C-note and other cash a second thought. I had already written it off. But when she pulled the clip out of the safe, and asked me to remove it from the sealed bag they use for lost-and-found items, I was shocked to see ALL the cash was still there… including the $100 bill, which was the most visible item in my clip. I was deeply moved, but not for my good fortune, but rather by the fact that somone had found all that cash and could easily have pocketed it all before tossing the cards in the trash… or, if they were a “nice” thief, they could have just left it on the ground for some other good Samaritan to do the right thing with what was left over. I would have embraced that possibility with gratitude, so you can imagine how I felt when I saw every dollar right where I left it. Of course I asked who turned it in, and sure enough it was one of their young teen employees. It’s important to note that there was another show in theater 10 immediately after the show I attended, so it would have been incredibly easy for this young teen to pocket my clip and/or my money (and the storied C-note) with a perfect alibi for not having found it.

I again reflected back to when I was 15, and remembered that back then I was a Godless person that most likely would have kept the money and ran if I had found so much cash in that setting. Thank God I am no longer that person. Again, I was deeply moved. So I asked Pamela and the young lady for the name of the young man (who was probably 15 himself), and when they answered “Caleb” I heard God more loudly than I had in quite a while. I know I live in pristine Franklin, TN… the true buckle of the bible belt where there is a church on every corner and every hundred yards between every corner, but this sort of honesty was extraordinary to me, and isn’t the “stuff” of simple Christian upbringing. Even in Middle Tennessee, teenagers like finding money. For me, this “Caleb” was a sign of hope for my daughter’s generation… a generation that is surely wandering in a wilderness few will escape… but this young Caleb lived up to his namesake… as surely — if he remains true to his path of integrity to the high calling of God — he is one of the few who will enter the promised land of treasures in heaven, and on earth. All of this “Word” was swirling in me like a sermon directly from God, and it lasted maybe 2 seconds before I spoke (isn’t it amazing how much you can live in your heart and mind in just a split second… there’s a message in there too), and all I could say was, “please… if this is against company policy please let me know so I can find a way to work around it… but please give this $100 bill Caleb as a reward for being true to the Word of God.” The two women looked a bit shocked, but they both smiled and inferred that Caleb was definitely a kid who would greatly appreciate the gesture. As I turned to leave, I looked back at Pamela to see that she too was moved by the unfolding of this story… and probably contemplating the mystery of how the money clip suddenly appeared in the safe after I walked through the doors… and maybe even considered it to be a minor miracle with a purpose that might unfold over many years… only she knows… but I yelled back at Pamela, saying, “maybe all of this happened simply to bless Caleb”… not just with the treasure of a $100 bill, but far more, with the blessing of affirmation and reward for a young life that is clearly aimed in the right direction.

We never know when a blessing or love offering we make to a ministry or an individual may be the “tipping point” that sets their destiny firmly upon the rock of Christ. So pray for young Caleb, and rejoice that young people of high character are out there… even if just as a very small remnant… and never forget that they, like Jesus, often depend upon the kindness of strangers to free themselves from “stuff” to be a blessing from God in moments that truly matter… and doesn’t every moment truly matter? Reflect back on my story and how I handled each turn in the story. I made a lot of mistakes and wasn’t always in the right spirit mentally, but in my heart I never took my eyes off of God, and since my heart rules my mind I found myself trusting He would use my mistake for a purpose of His own…. and surely, surely He rose to the occasion with greater beauty than I could have imagined.

But wait… don’t leave me yet… Caleb and the money clip were just the first couple of threads that the Lord revealed to me Sunday… though surely the most profound, so I’ll be brief in my retelling of the rest. As I raced to church, knowing I would be very late and might even have missed a good portion of the pastor’s message, I was surprised to find myself walking in the door just as he was beginning the sermon. I now know that I was saved by the Holy Communion they decided to serve before the sermon (rather than afterward), and being a guy who practices Communion almost daily, it was a very fair trade off. If you have ever heard the guy I currently call my pastor, Chris Williamson of Strong Tower Bible Church, you already know why catching every word that proceeds from his mouth has power beyond mortal words. God stuff 100% of the time. This humble brother is the greatest teaching pastor I have ever met (and being very active in ministry for  nearly two decades I know some famously wonderful pastors). So I found the timing of my late arrival to be especially meaningful in the spirit, but his message was packed with clues and cues that were cracking me up… as the alignments with my day were befuddling. I believe in mere coincidence. Stuff happens. But some stuff ain’t coincidence. If you know what I mean, then you know what I mean. If not, well… I feel for you. But to bring this blog post in for a landing, I’ll dash through some of the threads that helped mark this day in the fabric of my personal narrative for the rest of my life. First, this was a rare church service I have attended without my 20 year old daughter Amber. Dating back to her 13th year when I gained sole custody of her (and every other weekend before that when I had custody of her) Amber has been at my side for 99% of the church services, mission trips, or ministry efforts I have ever attended. But on this Sunday, she was in the final day of her instructor certification to become a Tae Bo instructor, directly under tutelage of Billy Blanks and his daughter Shelli, who coincidentally run their headquarters out of Franklin Athletic Club… which we joined only because it was right down the street from our apartment, well before knowing of the Billy Blanks’ connection. It’s a coincidence worth noting because Amber is a 2nd degree black belt in Tae Kwon Do, and had often been told by her past Masters that she should one day start a Martial Art School, or at very least get certified to teach Kick Boxing…. maybe even under Billy Blanks (who back when she was still studying had his headquarters in Los Angeles where we believed he still operated). All of that is a very cool alignment that we attributed to God the moment we met Billy and Shelli, as to our amazement and great joy, Billy and his entire family (and extended family of Team Tae Bo) have re-set their mission in recent years for the sake of Christ, and are not merely professing Christians, but also teach the Gospel throughout their curriculum, and do all but require their instructors be born again believers. I’ve attended one of Billy’s classes, and I can tell you first hand, in my 30 years as a fitness professional and avid gym rat I’ve never heard of such a thing. Some would say “only in Franklin, TN” but I know better. Billy and Shelli have a serious purpose in God’s great narrative. Their impact on Amber has been profound, as they have confirmed what I have prophesied over her many times… that wherever God lead us, He will put believers in our path that we will serve, and will in turn serve us through inspiration and genuine love.

So there I was, living “it” out in the most unexpected way… with a young man named Caleb that I have never met and may never meet… being served and inspired by him, as I pray I too have served and inspired him… then heading into a church service where the Pastor serves and inspires me in unprecedented fashion… in THE WAY I have prayed for since being born again in 1998… knowing all along that though my only child wasn’t with me on that day she was with other TRUE believers, co-inspiring each other, all in Jesus name, for the sake and purpose of inspiring others to strengthen their body temple with Christ in mind. It was a great moment of revelation, as I reflected in that split second all that God was doing to prove Himself alive in my life… speaking to me… moving in me… using me “out loud.” So in that moment, as a lay pastor prayed over Chris Williamson asking the Lord to speak through Him through the sermon, I too asked the Lord to teach me anew… all that I most needed to learn in this season, as surely such signs are not to be ignored. And to that, I felt Him tell me, “Wayne…. you are exactly where I want you to be…. as is Amber…. and Caleb…. and Billy and Shelli… and Chris Williamson too… be still, and know…” So now, if you’ve made it this far, I will challenge you to listen for yourself what the Lord said through Chris in the midst of that moment, as you can hear his sermons online. You will not be disappointed… it involves swords, and guns, and martial arts and boxing, and… get this… the use of a $100 bill as a metaphor for the Word of God. Take everything I said above and listen with open ears as you imagine what He was saying to me to affirm/confirm that my narrative in Him is right on track. This is my praise report… but for the message that might change your life (or at least change the way you treat the bible)… please Click Here and listen to Chris’s sermon from March 13, 2011. The sermon is there in audio for instant streaming, or you can watch the full church service on video if you let it buffer a bit. Chris’s wife Dorena led worship that morning. I love that couple.

My entire life has been marked by days like this… and I praise God for them. They are His milestones along the Way, and I pray that once you’ve read this post AND listened to the message Chris delivered right at the apex of this eventful day… you too will begin to have days like these… or many more I pray… but it all starts with knowledge of the true Word of God. Be blessed!

~Wayne Caparas

P.S. — It you’re thinking of what name to give your next baby boy… consider Caleb.. or Jude.  All smiles today…

Yet in this epic time of revolution in the middle east, Gandhi’s name is being invoked more than ever before… right along with Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and rightly so, as they will forever be credited as the first two “perfectors” of non-violent change on the global stage. It’s no secret that Gandhi — though a Hindu — served as a great inspiration to King, as Gandhi had become the first man in world history to fully apply the principles of Jesus’ beatitudes… and His love your enemy and turn the other cheek commands to overthrow a worldly principality.  King once said of Gandhi’s writings:

As I read, I became deeply fascinated by his campaigns of nonviolent resistance. As I delved deeper into the philosophy of Gandhi, my skepticism concerning the power of love gradually diminished, and I came to see for the first time its potency in the area of social reform. ~ Martin Luther King, Jr.

King was deeply saddened that a secular non-Christian philosopher was the world’s first true champion of the beatitudes and Christ-based non-violent revolution, and so am I.  When Martin was assassinated I was just a 5 year old, but being a half-breed from Boston who had already tasted the hate of racism, his murder had a disturbing affect on my faith (and lack thereof during my young adult life)… as did the murder of Bobby Kennedy just 2 months after Martin (ironically at the hands of an Arab-born Christian… a story I hope to expand upon soon). And as 1968 so indelibly affected a 5 year old, so it also scarred all of Christendom, as no man or woman has risen in Jesus’ name to risk their very lives on the global stage for freedom of the least in the many years since. Lots of life risking missions from the lowly remnant working behind the scenes… but NOTHING from our leaders… nothing but violence and war or status quo, that is. 43 years of relative silence… 43 years of Western decadence and secular selfishness… often practiced in “Jesus name.” Sad reality indeed.

But suddenly, facilitated in part by the very technology I’m using to pen these words, Gandhi and King are names ringing in the streets of the Arab world and beaming across the global media as secular principalities are again succumbing to the power of non-violent revolution. So we’ve seen “it” from a diminutive Hindu, and an African-American pastor, and now a collective of mostly Muslim Arabs in historic fashion… and not so long ago we witnessed a few brave Chinese attempt the same in their failed attempt to reform Communist China… but what have we seen from the masses of European/American Christians (aka the Western World) in this non-violent battle for freedom? Bobby Kennedy (a Catholic) was surely headed there… but his revolution was nipped before it could bud. From a political standpoint, the answer is clearly found in Martin’s battle, as the oppressors he fought were of this “missing” ilk. But from a purely spiritual context, I ask, where are the Martin Luther King, Jr.’s of today? I see lots of religious activity going on, but zero revolution… unless I look at the new Gandhis of the world who are rising up with little to no support from Christendom. Yes, Arab Christians are standing firm with their Muslim countrymen, but a clear authoritative voice from Western-Christendom is nowhere to be found, despite this being the most profound opportunity to share the Gospel of Peace with the entire world in the 2000 years since Jesus walked the earth. Christendom has again proven itself to be primarily concerned with political and self-ish issues, despite the fact that Jesus Christ does not accept those… but instead considers such concerns as lawlessness and blasphemy among people who consider themselves saved or chosen. Unforgivable sins? If you believe Jesus, probably so.

When Gandhi was a young man he seriously considered accepting Christ as Lord. While studying in England he heard so much of Jesus’ teachings that resounded with his own ethics and morality that he decided to read the bible, and gave special attention to the Gospels and New Testament. After reading the very words that came from the mouth of Christ, he was so inspired that he decided to attend a Christian church service to see what “modern Christianity” looked like on the inside. As he approached the aisle to find a seat, an usher stood in front of him to block his way and said to Gandhi (paraphrased), “maybe you should go worship with your own kind.” Upon reading about this event, it must have sounded eerily familiar to King. But unlike King who was raised on a diet of the Bread of Christ, Gandhi had no such nurturing, thus responded by saying “if Christianity has a caste system, I might as well stay a Hindu.“And so he did. Gandhi was assassinated in 1949… and he died a Hindu. Sounds a lot like a parable to me.

So what of it? Not long before his murder, Gandhi uttered his most famous quote of all, and it rings in my ears every day. Not because I am a fan of his life’s work, but because… like Martin before me… God has leveraged it to become a foundational truth that drives my mission today.

I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians.  Your Christians are so unlike your Christ. ~ Mohandas Gandhi

And before you let spiritual bigotry or racism dilute the power of Gandhi’s observation… remember these two critical facts. First, he was right. Second, and most important, he was simply echoing the very words of Jesus Christ… words Gandhi read and loved before false Christians quenched his fire… words he surely clung to until his dying day.

Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord’ but do not do what I say? ~ Jesus

Christendom is doing “well” with the minor issues, but failing miserably at the major issues. Living as Jesus, in His true light… in spirit and in truth… is the ONLY major issue. Why was that so easy for Gandhi to see, yet so difficult for the Christian world leaders of today? Hypocrisy seems to be in fashion among the religious elite… those supposed to be rich in spirit. Jesus said this day would come. Woe…

Our Way, or God’s?

Jesus said, “My yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

I was resting on the couch in the living room when I noticed my four-year-old son in the hallway. He was crying as he struggled to open a container with a tight lid. I asked him to bring the container to me so I could help him, but he resolutely tried to open it himself. He continued to cry, and his frustration grew. When exhaustion overcame him, he finally decided to allow me to help. He then saw how easy it was for me. He could have avoided the frustration had he come to me earlier.

This incident became a spiritual lesson for me about how to handle difficult situations. Too often, rather than seeking God’s help, we try our own methods to solve our problems — and we often end up frustrated or in tears. But God’s promise is before us: “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” God has the solution to our problems: We can believe in and trust in God’s word — and ask for God’s help.– Taken from THE UPPER ROOM Devotional

(from an anonymous source)

Though I had been born again 3 years earlier, this was the year I began to embrace being still before God, and suddenly the upheaval of the stripping-away process found me standing on nothing but bedrock… and from there I began to build a family of 2 that would answer the call no matter the cost. It was a huge year of change for me even before 9-11, but the trumpet blast of that fateful day pierced my heart, as surely it did yours… lest you have forgotten. Ten year’s earlier was of course 1991. It was my last year 1 as an atheist, and in stark contrast to the humble life I would begin ten years later, this was the year I reached for the brass ring of the public eye and seized it with violent force. Amber had just been born, and in response to fatherhood I took a permanent sabbatical from grad school and started LifeQuest… the conglomerate of health clubs and fitness spin-offs — all born of ill-gotten gain — that made me a legend in my own mind. I was rich, powerful, and relatively infamous for the multitude of contradictions I lived “out loud” on the public stage. That’s another story, but again, it was a notable year 1.

Ten years earlier was of course 1981… the first year 1 of my adulthood. I turned 18, graduated from high school, moved 3 hours away from home to play college football, experienced more destructive “firsts” than I will ever care to list, and also received the biggest kick in the gut of my young life as my parents informed my brother and I that they were getting a divorce. Welcome to the American dream.

Ten years earlier was of course year 1 of the seventies. After having lived on the beach in Cocoa Beach, Florida for most of the sixties (and eye-witnessed the wonders of the Apollo moonshots), my family moved to Oahu Hawaii… paradise on earth… and after a too-short year and a half I received my “first Holy Communion” as a Catholic, I discovered sports as an activity and music as a genuine passion (the Beatles had broken up and I realized I sang more like Michael Jackson than Paul McCartney… so I dove deep into the Motown sound… as any music lover will admit, this is no trivial point) and though just eight years old I became very aware of the opposite sex and all that goes with it. As I reflect… man… it was an amazing world back then. I wish my daughter could have seen what America was like at that cusp in world history.

And of course ten years earlier was 1961, and though I was not yet born, this was the year my mother and father would marry… shortly after meeting at a nightclub somewhere in my hometown of Boston… in a world FAR different from the one I knew ten years later. Some say it was the biggest leap forward across a single decade since the time of Christ. I tend to agree. So… “what the heck is the point of your walk down memory lane” you ask? It’s actually quite simple, yet maybe not so obvious.

As I ponder how my life has turned on the “ones” of each decade, I realize that with each new 1 the world also experienced dramatic changes that gave reason for tremendous hope and excitement as we held our collective breaths in anticipation of the great things that were sure to happen in the new decade. Yet somehow, in 2001… maybe in part due to 9-11 (or was that simply a sign?)… the merry-go-round seems to have stopped. Something of the human condition died ten years ago, and we all know it, though no one really seems to want to admit it. What happened to the age of discovery? A greater humanity? New advancements? The end to world hunger? Trips to Mars? A civilization under the sea? A cure for Cancer? Yes, science has progressed, but at a snails pace, and by most scientist’s measure it has crawled backwards. Just before 9-11 we finally “broke the code” to the human genome, as God let us in on exactly how he makes life evolve… yet somehow we have stopped evolving. As a species, we seem to be decaying… dis-evolving… if that is possible. And though I personally stand at a precipice to an exciting new unfolding with each new year of my life… and my daughter’s life… this revelation is not about me. We’re fine. But being a student of history who has witnessed rocket ships going to the moon and the end of the Soviet Union (which was in effect the real end of WWII), I have to ask what hopes and wonders now live in the hearts and minds of humanity? What progress have we made since the last time the year 1 rolled around?

As a true disciple of Christ, I know where my hopes and wonders are found. I stand on that rock, and I’m thrilled by the great things that lie ahead for me, my daughter, my fellow laborers, and even my business associates. But sadly, we are an anomaly… we are among the very few. The world needs a gut check, but to check one’s gut, one needs a constant by which to measure. Yet most rocks… especially those that claim to stand in the name of Christ… appear to be crumbling. Is everyone simply waiting around for the end? If so, that’s okay I guess… for a very few. But the rest need to figure out where this world is spinning them. If you are among the hapless masses, don’t wait for the next 1 to roll around. The merry-go-round really has stopped, and for me and my friends, that’s a good sign. Happy new year… I hope.