I’ve had a number of run-ins with celebrity types over the years. I’ll admit that you might not recognize many (or any) of these people, but at the moment it happened, that “brush with greatness” was memorable.

When I was in college, somehow we had Oliver North come and speak at our school. I had the chance to ask the final question of the Q&A session at the end of the night. So I asked him what his favorite (or most cherished) scripture verse was.

On two different occasions, I ran into Alan Ruck. Alan played “Cameron”, Ferris Bueller’s best friend in the 80’s cult classic “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off”. He also played “Rabbit” in the hit movie “Twister”. The second time I saw him was in a grocery store. I got up the gumption to actually invite him to a theatrical event at the church I was pastoring at. Imagine that. I asked “Rabbit” to use his map and find his way to our church building to watch me help “act” out the crucifixion and resurrection story.

I was flying from somewhere to somewhere else. I had a connection in Chicago’s O’Hare Airport. During that flight, I overheard two flight attendants talking to each other that Barry Manilow was actually at the airport we were headed to. I got off the plane and was walking down the concourse when none other than Barry Manilow (along with his entourage) literally walked directly across my path. I mean DIRECTLY. Barry and his pre-rhinoplasty nose was within 12-18 inches of my likewise un-small nose. It was all a blur I didn’t see coming, or I would’ve tried to stop him and tell him that at age 12 when I got my first Walkman, his greatest hits album was the very first cassette I ever owned. You know, like most 12-year-old guys.

When we lived in Nyack, New York, Rosie O’Donnell moved into town. Nyack is a wonderful little bedroom town full of NYC commuters. If you don’t know Rosie, you weren’t alive in the late-90s when her daytime talk and variety show was THE SHOW to watch. Imagine Jimmy Fallon during daytime television with amazing special guests, hilarity, and an anything-can-happen approach to entertainment. We both had daughters who were the same age and in elementary school so at the end of the school day, many parents would stand outside the school building (like a car pick-up line, but much more conversational/connective) and just talk with each other. One day Rosie approached me and started talking to me, asking if I was somehow a part of her Broadway show called “Taboo”, which was a musical based on Boy George’s life story. (Are you saying you’re not familiar with Boy George? Do you really want to hurt me?) Anyway, I had to confess that I in fact was not any part of the cast or crew of her apparently enormous Broadway production. But she was pleasant and approachable, covered in paint from a project at home just a couple blocks away.

But perhaps my favorite run-in with greatness was the most interesting of them all. I was strolling some downtown area one day during some out-of-state conference I was attending where we were given some free time. My wife and I saw a large luxury bus with the word “Discover Card” emblazoned on the side of it. The door was open, so clearly that was an invitation to step inside, and so we did. Because why not? As soon as we climbed up the curved staircase steeply ascending into this beautiful beast of a bus, we realized this was no bus at all. This was more like a lavish apartment and we were instantly in the front living room. Lush leather couches flanked the path we were on. We were invited/instructed to make our way to the kitchen where we could help ourselves to decadent chocolates and perfectly chilled glass-bottle Coca-Colas in the fridge (When they’re in glass bottles as God intended, you can’t just say “Coke”). We made our way to the back room where a very handsome, very fit male human sat behind a large table. Next to him was someone else, maybe an assistant, maybe a bodyguard, maybe a PR person. Who knows. On the table in front of this svelte mass of masculinity was a stack of 8×10 glossy photos of himself and a steel cup filled with Sharpie markers. This man (I had figured out he was a famous professional athlete by then) slid a photo of himself off the top of the stack, asked me my name, and scribbled on the photo with the Sharpie. He slid it across the table to me, said thanks for coming, and urged me to take more chocolates and glass-bottle Coca-Colas on my way out. Which I did. Wouldn’t you?

What type of greatness has your life brushed up against? Let me know in the comment section to share your story!

That last one will always stick out with me because I think it’s probably the way many of us Christians approach our view of God. We sense He’s a big deal, we come to him “hat in hand” as the old saying goes, we interact with him for a moment, grab our glossy, and slink back to normal life. By the way, I still have that glossy photo. It’s of that guy (I still have no idea of his name) and the photo is an action shot of him skating on an NHL ice hockey rink. Here’s what he wrote: “To my friend, Jerry….” and then unintelligible scribble that I assume is his autograph.

But see? The glossy says “my friend” so that means we’re friends, right?

You know better and so do I. Just because I had a run-in with someone of acclaim doesn’t mean at all that I have a meaningful connection with that person. And I fear that many people enter into worship gatherings much like my experience on that luxury bus. Grabbing the chocolates and glass-bottle Coca-Colas, but without any meaningful familiarity with Who it is we’re actually there to commune with, worship, hear from, and be changed by.

Let’s not merely have “brushes with greatness”. Let’s inhabit the Greatness of God in our own lives. Romans 8 tells us that the very power that raised Jesus from the dead lives within us. If this is true, it isn’t the stories of celebrity run-ins that are eye-catching but the fact that the very God of heaven and earth is willing to be with us and to live within us. Do you want a brush with Greatness? Embrace the grace and forgiveness that God offers all of humanity by way of Jesus’ death and resurrection and then take a look in the mirror. You’re witnessing the greatest greatness that could ever exist: the changed heart, mind, and life.

Months ago (I should have written down the date), God spoke clearly to me and impressed on my heart what our theme for this year’s high school fall retreat would be. “Shalom,” He said. “Really?…You sure?… You won’t want to think about it a little more? No rush. Seriously.”, I replied. I was taken aback by what God was saying. I wasn’t quite sure how I would build an entire weekend retreat (4 sessions altogether) around a well-worn Hebrew word. And that was my first mistake; it wouldn’t be me building anything. It would be me being obedient to God’s directive call. *Fellow pastors, take note of this. I’m still learning it after nearly 3 decades in ministry: I’m not actually creating or carrying anything. Neither are you. We’re stewarding the good gifts of God.*

I’m gonna take a wild guess here. Actually, it’s not a wild guess at all. It’s a confident knowledge that can be backed by irrefutable evidence: NO high schooler I have ever interacted with has ever had “Shalom” as a part of their daily vocabulary. They’re more likely to use words like “fair”, “bet”, “fit”, “vibe”, “drip”, and “extra”. But “Shalom”? Nah, bruh.

I couldn’t have known (but should’ve known) just what God would do with His promises. Throughout the weekend, we watched Him move and heard Him speak so clearly through this seemingly simple, straightforward word. Not merely during our times of gathered worship, but all throughout the conversations and activities that we had, we saw shalom rise up as a reality, as a longing, as a gift, and as a blessing.

If you were to ask the first person you meet on the street what shalom means, you are likely to get the response, “It means peace.” But there’s more to shalom than simply peace. And while we’re at it, let’s define what we mean by peace. Most people view peace as a time of quiet in the absence of trouble. But this type of peace–this shalom–doesn’t care much about what’s going on outwardly. Shalom is an inner wholeness, completeness, and gifted peace that is far beyond the simple absence of trouble.

Here is a sound byte from each of our four sessions; the truths we gathered around when we gathered and fed on God’s Word (Disclaimer: There’s just no way to convey what we experienced together in God’s presence, so these are just summaries):

Friday evening: Shalom is not just peace, but wholeness. The absence of shalom indicates a need for spiritual healing. We used a broken circle imagery to ask where those fractures are so that with God’s guidance, we could begin to address them and seek His healing.

Saturday morning: We talked about how shalom calls us to vulnerability. As we are willing to be vulnerable in our faith walk, and as we are willing to allow ourselves to be known by others, we grow in humility as we understand that our collective brokenness relieves us from having to pretend. Fear shatters shalom, but shalom shields the heart. God’s Word gives us the “Do not fear” instruction 365 times. When we welcome humility by releasing fear, humility ushers in unity, and it is unity that Jesus prayed for when He prayed for us, His disciples.

Saturday evening: Shalom is the gift of God that changes who we are and what we are like. We talked about how to introduce spiritual healing into every relationship we have and how to steer conversations into a spiritual direction. Three words create a simple structure: engage, encourage, and equip. More organically, and as a result of one of our teen girls sharing something powerful, we also talked about what it means to truly encourage someone. We looked at 2 Timothy and Paul’s instruction to Timothy to “fan into flame” God’s gift with us. So when we encourage someone, we are literally stoking the fire of their faith!

Sunday morning: Shalom is not peace in the absence of conflict, it is wholeness even in the presence of trouble. Over the past few years, we have shifted our Sunday morning gatherings at retreat to far more of an open sharing time to allow people to reflect on our weekend and what God has said to them, so they can verbally process it, share it, and encourage others with it. We wrapped up with the simple truth that “Shalom faces forward”. How then do we live shalom going forward? I learned long, long ago that God writes a far better story than I do. So as a communicator and pastor, I only give enough direction to provide some suggestions for taking the learned truth forward. I don’t typically script an explicit “now do this” type of response. I leave all that to God’s Holy Spirit. I simply speak the truth, unpack that truth in practical ways, and encourage listeners to live the truth God is speaking to them.

I like to wrap things up with a nice bow, but this one rejects that idea. Shalom is ongoing and won’t be concluded. I’m excited to get together with those who are living Shalom and seek to be even more encouraging of one another. I can’t express the joy of walking with students and adults as we embrace the gift of shalom that God has given us. In storms, we walk on water. In conflict, we are peaceful. When fractures happen, we are agents of restoration. When fear attacks our hearts, we are shielded by the shalom of God. And so, so much more.

In the next two weeks, hand-written notes along with this sticker will go out to those who were a part of our Shalom weekend. I want to challenge and encourage (stoke the flame of) young people who are living in our postmodern world where peace is vaporous and stability is fleeting. Because in Shalom, we are sure-footed, we are bold, we are water-walkers, and we are reflections of the wholeness, the completeness, and the peace that God alone can give us.

Over the years, I’ve had several people ask me about my calling, specifically my calling into ministry. People are fascinated for a variety of reasons, and I’m always happy to share my story. My most recent opportunity came just yesterday when a young person who’s sensing and following their own call to ministry wanted to hear more of the details of my call. I gave them the abridged version, for sake of time and efficiency. I can’t and won’t promise the same thing here.

Do you mind if I tell you a short story? It’ll help connect the dots as we dig into the idea of calling.

My youngest son’s birthday was last week. He works at a hospital, and I thought it would be nice to have lunch with him on his birthday on his lunchbreak. This hospital’s parking lot is always crowded, so I had to park far from the main building and starting the long walk toward the hospital. 

As I walked, I heard a very faint, barely audible voice “Help me!”. It was barely above the decibel level of a light breeze. I turned my head side to side to see if I could see anything that matched what I imagined I heard but saw nothing. So, I kept walking. Ten to twenty feet later, I hear something again: “Can someone help me?” This time, it seems a bit louder and more urgent. This time, loud enough to stop me in my tracks. I again looked around, this time more intently trying to find the source of the distress call. Nothing. No one. I kept walking.

Another several seconds and paces pass. A third time, “Can someone help over here, please! We need help!” Okay, that’s it. Lunch would have to wait. I had to find out where that cry for help was coming from. I looked across the parking lot and saw a woman waving her arms in the air at me. I ran over and as I got closer, saw another set of feet—these belonging to a person on the ground between the parked cars. I said, “I’ll go get help” and I ran toward the Emergency Room entrance of the hospital. As I approached, I saw a doctor who had likely just ended his shift and was walking out. I told him there was a medical emergency in the parking lot and we both went into the Emergency Room to get more help. (Shout out to this weary doctor who undoubtedly just wanted to go home.) Within moments a team of nurses were following me as I pointed out where the person in need was located. As I turned and headed back toward the hospital, I saw another group of 2-3 nurses, with a hospital bed rolling in the direction of the person on the ground. So, I turned back toward the need and directed them as well. Confident that the help had found the helpless, I took a deep breath and continued on my way to lunch. 

You know what? I need to share another story to connect another dot. I’ll make it quick.

My teenage years were pretty normal. I did school, played in the band, dabbled in theater (with the varsity letter to prove it), and lived to hang out with my friends. Then I started dating a girl. She was a great girl, but that relationship drove me to make disastrous decisions that systematically destroyed every other relationship in my life. For the sake of time, that’s as detailed as I’ll get right now. Suffice it to say, I had made a complete mess of my life. Toward the end of that period, I went to a Christian music festival called “Creation” in Altoona, PA. It was June 1990. I sat in a sea of twelve-thousand people and listened to a message by Tony Campolo. But far as I was concerned, I was the only person in that open field. God spoke so clearly to me about where I had been, Who He was/is, and His love for me. I had wrecked my life and every relationship in it, and with every right to reject me, Jesus embraced me with grace, mercy, love, and forgiveness. If you’ve been in a similar place, you know what I’m talking about. If you haven’t been there, I only hope you will, perhaps without the pain that I brought upon myself. Standing in the middle of the ashes my life had become, Jesus was there with me, ready to heal, ready to help, ready to restore me completely. My eyes are welling up now thinking about it. Thirty-three or so years later, I’m still overwhelmed by His love for a “wretch like me”. As I stood up in the middle of that field in Altoona, PA I spoke a very simple prayer, one that I still repeat to this day. It was a prayer of full surrender. I meant it then, and I mean it today. 

When I think about my own calling, and I share my story with others, or try and advise those who are wrestling with their own sense of calling, I tell them the decision I made in that field in Pennsylvania on that warm June night. My calling wasn’t really a calling, at least not as you might imagine it would be. It was kind of an non-calling. All I knew was that I was broken, Jesus was healing, and there was only one response that made any sense. You’ll find this in Paul’s words to the Church in Rome in the first century. Read Romans 12:1 sometime. In light of what Jesus had done, the surrender of my life to Him was the only logical decision. I didn’t have a sky-splitting revelation of a grand future as a pastor, missionary, or evangelist. I didn’t really have a vision at all. I only knew what He did and offered my life to Him as a result. That was my calling. 

So how does someone recognize and reconcile the sense of calling they have? I wish I had a nice, neat formula, but then again I’m glad I don’t. I don’t believe it’s as neat and tidy as plugging variables into an equation and having it produce the answer for you. But let me see if I can give some handles to grab in this issue of calling. Here are some questions I’d offer to someone seeking to define their calling:

1. What has Jesus done for you and what is your response to Him? Be specific.
2. What has God put in your hands in terms of skills, passions, talents, and resources?
3. Where has God placed within you a hunger for helping humanity find the Healer?
4. What makes you angry? What do you see in our world that makes you say, “That isn’t right, and something’s got to be done about it”?
5. Are you willing to release the world’s opinion of you, and the world’s definition of success in order to be obedient to God’s directing voice in your life? 

These questions are by no means exhaustive, but I pray they are a starting point to help you define and embrace God’s calling on your life. And let me be clear: I reject the idea that calling equals full-time ministry or vocational ministry. I believe God calls people to be plumbers, retail workers, CEOs, lawyers, teachers, bakers, baristas, mechanics, contractors, nurses, and yes…even pastors. 

Back to that hospital parking lot. My calling is to listen closely for the cries for help in today’s generation. My calling is to point the helpless to the Help and to introduce the Help to the helpless. Flawed cracked pot that I am, I know who the Help, Healing, and Hope for humanity is. And I live to connect the helpless with the Help. That’s my calling.