I’m supposed to tell a coming-of-age story. Not about becoming a man, though. (There’s actually not too much to tell there, anyway.) Or even about becoming an apprentice of Jesus. (I do have a little more to tell on that one.) But instead, I’m supposed to write about when I knew I was an Apostle, Prophet or Evangelist.
It’s not an easy assignment.
First of all, any story I might write will sound self-congratulatory. Imagine me in an ornate robe, curved pipe in hand, slinking back into a velvet armchair, and I start to speak in a slow, cultivated accent: “In a time when boys sought to be men, and men dared to dream, I looked down at my already gnarled hands, pondering the futility of life. That is, until a voice from heaven cracked through my thoughts like a thunderclap: ‘James, from this day forward, you shall be called … Apostle!’” It assails against my Korean upbringing to crown myself like that. Even Lebron received much derision for tattooing “Chosen1” on his back, even though, whether you like him or not, he can play ball. How much less have I accomplished? …
To finish reading this post about my unease with these kinds of titles, head on over to Release the APE. I’m excited about all who are contributing: Beau Crosetto‘s leading the charge, but other monthly contributors include me, Dave Ferguson, JR Woodward, Grace Biskee, Sarah Carter, Shawn Young, Jon Heitbrink, and Eric & Stacy Rafferty. I’m digging all the InterVarsity love!
Check it out!