BP IS ME

We’ve all known our share of preachers over the years.  I know I have.  Some I’ve liked, some have been responsible for some of the most important moments in my life - and a few have gotten on my ever last nerve. 

What can say?  It happens.  No matter what anybody wants to believe, in the end, Preachers are just people.  And sometimes people can be downright annoying. 

The one thing that I always loved about Preachers when I was a kid was the fact that a lot of ‘em back then used to go by letters instead of names. 

There was A.C. Clausen, D.B. Sweeny, W.P. McKnight.  I mean, come on - how cool is THAT?  You’d NEVER call one of these guys “Brian” or “Mike”.  They were D.W., J.C., or Brother N.B.  - I defy you to try to pick a fight with a guy called Brother N.B.  Sounds like a Christian rap artist...or a sit-com.  Possibly a serial killer. 

The fact that these old-timey Preachers used to go by letters instead of names is probably one of the reasons I often go by B.P. now.  I love being called letters.  I also love pretending to be an oil company.  So either way, it works for me.

Now don’t get me wrong - I LOVE my name.  I am so very proud that my mother in her wisdom named me the name of the very thing I would one day grow up to be: a Preacher.  

 And let’s face it - there weren’t TOO many kids in my grade NAMED “Preacher”.  There WAS a kid named Jack Hammer Operator but he only went to school there one semester.  He was a loud kid. Anyhow...

I wish more people would go by letters instead of whole names these days.  If you ask me, it is a practice whose time has come.  What with all the LOLs and ROLFs and IWTHPOSDACYMs (I went to the post office, start dinner and call your mother).

ATWSAS (As together we stand and sing).   

BP

MY NAME IS PREACHER. BROTHER PREACHER.

There’s not a day goes by, I'm not asked by somebody what it’s like to be a Preacher.  

“How do you do it, Preacher?  The sermons, the puppet shows, the Pot Luck Dinner/ 3-Bean Salad organizing?”

You may not realize it, but people are simply fascinated by the life of Preachers.

But explaining what it’s like to be a Preacher is like explaining what it’s like to be James Bond.  Most people just aren’t gonna get it.  How do you explain the cool gadgets, the concordance collection, the constant outmaneuvering of evil enemies who want to take over the world, and the feeling you get when dropping out of an airplane from 3000 feet while in a shoot out with a Grumpy Elder?

Somethin’ like that.  I think I mixed up my James Bond stuff with my Preacher stuff.  The shoot out I had was from 4,000 feet; and it was 2 Grumpy Elders and a VERY snippy Deacon.  Anyhow.  You get it.

Now that I think if it, Preaching is more like being James Bond than many people might think. For example:

We both have cool letters in our names that we use for short: Brother Preacher (BP), James Bond (JB).  James Bond also goes by a number (007).  I pretty much just go by “Brother” - I’m kinda “low church” that way.  If I HAD to go by a number I’d go by 003 -- for the Trinity, of course.

James Bond drives a Aston Martin DBS V-12, I drive a Ford Focus.  Both have wheels and a fairly decent cup holder.  One is equipped with a machine gun and an ejector seat for protection, while the other has a stack of religious tracts that can leave a pretty nasty paper cut.

One has a bunch of cool spy gadgets he gets from a guy named “Q”; I get all my cool preaching gadgets from Gidget.  (By the way, check out her new website coming soon: Gadgets By Gidget -  “for the Preacher in your life”.  She makes some great baptismal waders that double as protective door knocking gear.)

James Bond saves the world in the just nick of time, usually by getting his tie stuck in something mechanical;  I pretty much do the same thing by stickin’ my tie in a Bible to mark the best  “get saved verses”.

JB comes home after a hard day to a bevy of bikini-clad beauties; I come home to Gidget.

Gidget.  Mmmm.

Eat your heart out, JB.

As together we stand and sing.

BP