On Tuesdays I’ve been writing about my faith journey. I apologize that many of these first entries aren’t very positive. I’ve reflected in the past few weeks on feeling persecuted as a kid by other Christians for not believing everything they did and I also recalled the experience of being used as forced political labor by my Christian school. But, I’m just giving you the real story–and there is a necessary descent in my narrative. Bear with me. Just so you know, it gets worse before it gets better, even if I can tell you, as you no doubt have deduced, that it does get better for me, eventually. [If you would like some faster hope–go here for now] Ok, back to the story….
In high school I began to believe two things:
1) If God existed, then he was of the transcendant sort–one that didn’t really interact with this world.
2) The Church that was the representative of God on earth was largely irrelevant.
I think the second came before the first, as it usually does. It is much easier to confirm one’s suspicions of an irrelevant God when his church is irrelevant for you first. I’ll talk more in coming weeks about some of these deconstructive days in my belief about God–don’t judge me too quickly on that–remember, I’m speaking about my 17-year old theology–but for now I want to tell you about my teenage view of the Church.
Teenagers are more fickle with beliefs than hummingbirds are with flowers. I flitted about–a buzz of activity sampling all sorts of thoughts and passions, with characteristic nonchalance and lack of conviction. I’m not sure anyone ever nailed me down on what I believed. All I knew is that church was “lame.”
My buddy (who I’ll call Kenny) and I would sit in the fourth row of church every sunday morning–and most Sunday nights. The youth minister had all of us sit together in that area. Our parents were Christian workers, so it was expected that we would go; I’m not sure if we ever tried to not go. Kenny and I were ballers, and likewise NBA freaks–and we loved to talk about professional basketball players. Kenny invented a cool game where we would draft NBA players, which we would list out by position and cost-to-draft, on the back of offering envelopes we found in the pew. With a Hymnal for a writing surface, we would sometimes draft mock teams 3 or 4 times in one sermon.
The reason we did this was that we couldn’t care less what was happening in the service. Never once in all the years we were in those serviced did we ever find something that drew our attention. I honestly only remember one thing the pastor ever said–and it was a throwaway comment about getting better gas mileage if you went slower in your car. Duly noted.
This season in my life started a 5-year journey of thinking that the church was largely irrelevant. No, let me correct that… I still believe that. The church is largely irrelevant to the lives of most people. Unless you’re in the “in” crowd and know what everyone is talking about, it doesn’t make any difference. Of course, I was in the “in” crowd–and it still didn’t make any difference. And I had the advantage of going to larger churches that had full time youth pastors! Of course, in 7 years in two church’s youth programs I had 6 different youth pastors. I had a teen girlfriend in my life for a longer season than I had one of those youth pastors in my life.
You might say that the church must be irrelevant; that the church is anachronistic by its nature–that it is rooted in tradition for a reason. You might say that the Church isn’t to chase trends and try to be “relevant” because by doing so it waters down the gospel.
Ok.
All I know is by the time I was 17 church just made me shrug. It was no big deal. And I was at a crossroads. For some reason my whole life I had wanted to go into the ministry. I wanted to be a pastor when I grew up. I was “called.” Which made no sense, because I thought church was irrelevant.
As I entered college I would work very hard to try to make church relevant for me and others. That seemed the only salvation. I would use the irrelevance I felt as fuel to a fire of change in the church. Then after that, when we moved to Boston, I gave up on making church relevant–and began to give up on a whole list of things.
More on that later.
So, what’s your take? Was Church relevant to you when you were a teenager? Why or why not? Should Church be relevant to 17 year olds? How?
During my teenage years after a commitment to Christ at age 12, I was discipled by two youth pastors in two years (yes, the consistency of youth programs was lacking in my church too). I was able to see the “inside” of church life through the eyes of the staff and wasn’t so thrilled with what I saw. I remember a point where I wanted Jesus, but wanted nothing to do with his organization.
I took a job at 15 and purposely asked to work on Sunday’s so that I didn’t break my father’s rule, “As long as you live in this house, you will attend church” but found a Pharisaical way around it! I still felt a call into ministry but hated the idea that I might have to minister to people I could not stand. I believed that the volleyball nights, fifth-quarter parties, and lame bible studies weren’t really cutting it for most of my friends or myself. So for four years I wandered and wondered if God was going to do anything.
He did. He started with me. I’m in love with the Church today, but clearly went through a season of disenchantment. I often wonder if someone has to go through this “dark night of the soul” in order to find the redeeming work of the Body of Christ in their lives?
P.S. Sure miss having you around the office!
Yes, Thad… there are two kinds of ministers:
1) Those God transform in the heart so they love people in the world more deeply, and become evangelists.
OR
2) Those God transform in the heart so they love people in the church more deeply, and become disciplers.
This is the first article of yours that I have read, but let me respond to it nonetheless. Personally, I am going to have to meditate on these thoughts and this account for awhile. If this is the reaction an average 17 year-old has to the Church, I would say the Church needs to take this into account as she developes her ministries. This is merely me thinking aloud; in order to make the Church more relevent with the current generation and the generation to come, she must keep the Gospel the same, but her works must change with the generations. Perhaps she must isolate what is important to that generation and the generation to come. An example, the Church must continually preach the good news of Jesus Christ, but may want to place more emphasis on “living green” and open a ministry program since it is important to that specific generation.
Hey Tim… I’m not sure if my reaction is typical of 17year olds–but I wouldn’t be surprised.
I hear you about connecting with the missional concerns of teens… other than the living green thing… what are other things teens care about today?
The teen years I believe we went to the same church, but I knew something was lacking there. The youth pastor was great when I left; the attendants were less than supportive. I heard more stories about who slept with whom the night before church than I did at school during the week. I didn’t think about it being the church.. Hearing their stories created an apathy within me: at least I wasn’t doing what she was doing. I knew something was lacking within me. A few of my friends and I started actively seeking a youth group that was genuine, lived out their faith – even as teens. The first time I stepped foot into JCBodyshop, I knew something was different. They weren’t perfect nor was I, but they welcomed me. It didn’t hurt that there was a cute guy that attended, but I digress. The freedom I found within the church walls, allowed me to open up to the Spirit. It was the first place besides my home that I was able tranfer head knowledge into a personal relationship with Christ. To this day, I see my teen years as being the most difficult emotionally, but they provided the most practical understanding of being His hands and feet as my fellow youth supported my fragile faith in prayer and by example. There’s my two cents. Keep the change,
Thanks, Jane… I’ve seen your story played out with many at JCBodyshop… and my son now goes there (believe it or not–I’m getting OLD)
Cool to hear!
SO, did your friends from school connect as a teen like you did at JCB?
Would love to hear about that change that happened while out in Boston. Asking these questions myself as I look to further a commitment to a dying mainline church. Worship style is high church (not youth-friendly?) and cultural values are “relevant” (or liberal, depending on your term). Still the membership plunges. Should I be worried?
I’m not writing on the Boston part of the story for a bit here, Adam… but perhaps that won’t help you much anyway. we’ll see.
Membership may decrease without there being a huge worry. But are new people coming, are people being baptized, are people volunteering & sharing that God is up to something in them? Those are the things I look to more than membership today