Prophet

 
When I was 17 years old, I went off on a youth retreat. It was spring of my senior year. We were kids from different schools, different churches, different neighborhoods across our city. The first night began with a small group Bible Study. In my group was a fellow named Neil. He lived a few streets away from me, yet went to a different high school. He was a cool kid. A hell-raiser as we use to say. That night was honest about his life, his fears and problems. It was at that moment that I had an epiphany. "If Neil can be this honest, then there must be a God."

I don't know what I thought about God prior to that. I was raised in a happy, Presbyterian home. We believe in Jesus. We went to church. I was involved in my youth group, a friend's youth group and Young Life. Everyone I knew went to church. It wasn't just an activity. It was who we are. My epiphany that night change all of that.

The next day dawned mostly clouding. We were in the mountains. During the time set aside for us to individually go out and spend time in prayer, I laid down in the grass above the cabin where we were staying. I prayed a simple prayer. "If you are real, then my life is yours."As I opened my eyes from praying, the clouds were gone. I toke that as a sign that my prayer of faith and commitment had been hear.

As I look back, I realize that that moment of reaction to Neil's honesty was a seminal one.It was turning point. It was a predictor of what was to come.

During college, one of my friends, who is still a close friend, came to call me Prophet. I don't remember why. It was just one of those nicknames we give to people because something touched in some way that provoked a perception about the person. I appreciated the nickname. And he is the only one who ever used it towards me.

To be a prophet is not just to speak about the future, to be a predictor, but to be a person who speaks honestly. Much of my work as a consultant and coach requires me to speak honestly about what I see. I have learned that it is important to speak honest words with grace and caring. Because what is important isn't what I say, but what they hear that allows them the freedom to respond.

I've been thinking about this as our denomination passes through a century-long transition to what it will be in the future.

I don't have all or many answers. What I do know is that what we have been doing the past hundred years is no longer feasible.  We can envision something different, but not see how we are going to get there.  We need to discern the path to the future. I am convinced it does not look like the near past.

There is a spiritual lesson here. At least there is for me.   At the age of 17, when I gave my life to Christ, like so many of us did, I did not know what lay before me in life. All I knew was that I must trust God that he would guide my steps. Looking back over the 41 years since that moment in time, I can honestly say that what I saw then has been shown to be true in my life. More than anything, I find that what God has given me is the grace to try, fail, admit I'm wrong, and try again.

What I have learned as well is that I must constantly seek the horizon of my life. I learned this from marathon swimmer Diana Nyad who, after failing to complete her attempt to swim from Cuba to the Florida Keys, told Johnny Carson that by pushing herself to the limits of her abilities, she gained knowledge about herself that most 50 years don't have. Later she wrote,

“I am willing to put myself through anything; temporary pain or discomfort means nothing to me as long as I can see that the experience will take me to a new level. I am interested in the unknown, and the only path to the unknown is through breaking barriers, an often-painful process.”

I find we are at this point in the history of our church. We have tried and failed, and continue to fail. We have fail because we refused to believe that we individually and collectively are responsible for the decline inthe church. We have failed to break through the barriers of our own need to be honest with ourselves.

What I learned from Diana Nyad over thirty years ago is the reality that until we push ourselves to the horizon of our faith, we have yet to learn fully the greatness of God's grace to us in a time of need. We learn that in times of tragedy and loss. Now, we need to learn it as our ambition to be God's people leads us to discern God's call upon us for the future.

Today, as I write this, the Fellowship of Presbyterians are gathering for their conference in Orlando. And in six weeks the Next Church conference will convene. Then later this summer the General Assembly of the PCUSA will meet.  For each gathering I pray for humility, wisdom and a spirit of reconciliation.

May God be with us, guide us, strengthen us, sustain us, and grant us the spirit of humility and ambition that leads to discover the horizon of the church that waits to be crossed.