I've been in youth ministry long enough that you would think I would learn my lesson: when you have your act together and you have everything organized and you think the kids are going to love the event, they will inevitably want to play kickball instead.
All week last week, my husband and I went through Netflix and our DVD collections thinking of movies that middle and high school kids would think were vintage and cool. Imagine my disappointment when I arrived on Sunday night armed with Nightmare Before Christmas and Young Frankenstein, and was welcomed with this face:
In youth ministry, you learn the stages of "going with the flow."
Stage 1: I'm Old.
"This is it. You've hit your peak. The youth no longer find you cool or interesting. You'll now have to start shouting at kids on your lawn, shaking your cane at hooligans on the corner, and telling an inordinate number of stories that begin with 'back when I was your age...'"
Stage 2: I have failed.
"I will now hide in the corner while the children take over like a real-life version of Lord of the Flies."
Stage 3: Complete Panic
"Oh dear GAWD, we have an hour and a half left!!! What can I do to avoid a riot?!?!?!"
Stage 4: The Brilliant Idea (That someone else came up with)
"Kickball?? Yes, we have one of those. A field of grass to play in? Oh wow, we have that too. Let's go do that!"
Stage 5: Swag
"Boom, baby! Guess who weathered that storm like a champion!"
After a week of rain and miserable weather, our students were ready to play outside and/or sleep. The interest level in movie night was at an all-time low. So we rolled with the punches, and played some kickball with the middle schoolers and got a visit from a special little pumpkin (baby Logan Pratt!) at high school.
As I stood in the semi-rainy, windy weather watching kids run wildly around our front lawn, silently bummed that I was not in the warm comfort of the youth room watching some classic films, it occurred to me that our faith journeys can so often be this way. We rest in the comfort of our church, in our comfortable scriptures, in our daily prayers and devotions; being a Christian is a source of comfort for us, giving us identity and confidence. It's as though we have arrived.
It is easy to be comfortable in our beautiful church. We have a gorgeous church building that is full of guests and young people every week. Just walk up and down the halls of the education wing and see the marvelous works that our children are doing. Come to an SNL supper on a Sunday night and you'll see that our Fellowship Hall is at capacity: we literally cannot feed anymore people in this room. In fact, the youth aren't even eating in Fellowship Hall. It feels good and comfortable to be a member at Unity Presbyterian Church.
Unfortunately, being a Christian might feel comfortable, but its deepest meaning, being a Christ-one, a follower of Christ, requires something much more uncomfortable for us.
In Revelation, Christ says to the church at Laodicea:
I know your works; you are neither cold nor hot. I wish that you were either cold or hot. So because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I am about to spit you out of my mouth. For you say, 'I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing.' You do not realize that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked.
Revelation 3.15-17
{Seriously, what are we going to do with this new Associate Pastor...what a jerk...}
Ouch. These words of Revelation are harsh, and please hear: I don't think we are at Laodicea level. It is however, easy to look around and see new visitors coming, programs thriving, and the service being sharp and clean and believe, we've hit the top of our success. It is easy for us to say, "I have prospered; I need nothing." Yet Christ calls us to a much more difficult and uncomfortable walk. Christ calls us to change our plans when the programs and plans we have set forth are not the programs and plans that God has set forth. Christ calls us to stand in the windy cold parking lot where the world is in chaos even when we'd rather be in the youth wing sipping hot cocoa watching a delightful film.
Here is the comfort. At the end of his ministry, right before he ascends to heaven, Jesus commands his disciples:
And Jesus came and said to them [the disciples], 'All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always to the end of the age.
Jesus' commands have two verbs: go and make. You can't sit in the youth room watching movies and GO at the same time. You can't make disciples when you're resting in the youth room. If you're sitting in awe at the number of visitors and youth we have coming to our programs, you can't make disciples out of them. God's call is to action: the simple joy of playing together, the thrill of movement. Just as the sigh and ache of muscles after they work hard gives us adrenaline and a rush of positive feeling, so we are called to work our spiritual muscles.
In this passage, Christ does not tell us that we only need to go to easy places that are sunny and 75 degrees or full of people like us. He does not tell us to plant ourselves on the comfy couches of the youth room. Rather, Christ calls us to the cold, windy weather where we do not have control and we do not have command. I am reminded of writers who wrote on this passage 10 years ago and inspired me to get on a bus and go to Biloxi, Mississippi a mere 50 days after Hurricane Katrina struck the coast. Sometimes, we are called to the devastated regions of our land (sound familiar?); sometimes we are called to orphanages in Mexico. Sometimes we are called to far-off towns in Malawi; sometimes we are called to the messy bedroom of our teenage child who has had a difficult day and needs a shoulder to cry on. Jesus does not describe where we are going but does promise that he will be with us always.
With us.
Always.
Period.
That is something to get excited about.
Maybe God has altered your plans this week as he did mine. I hope that you will find God's presence in that alteration, and realize the purpose God has for you. Here are some other people who have written about this:
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