christianity

Assuming the Best of Others

Blogs about Heather, christianity

It happened again.

Another angry email.

You know, the kind we all get. No matter the field, no matter the role–there is always a heated complaint, the kind that makes you laugh at first (because it seems so ridiculous), and then forces you into an existential crisis.

I know I’m not alone. Even today, a friend of mine is in the same boat.

I read the email to my boss, and before I began I said, “Please don’t tell me ‘I told you so.'” Because this email was in response to a decision that I made that my boss didn’t quite agree on, but trusted me on. And what’s worse than someone upset with you for something you rallied so hard for?

My boss had compassion, and told me this story: her daughter was recently promoted at her company to essentially intervene on every complaint the company had. Someone was mad about the product? Goes to her. Someone thinks an employee was rude? Goes to her. Every single complaint in the company goes to her. Imagine all those angry emails. Yikes.

But what she said to her mother blows me away: “Mom, I love it. I love being able to change somebody’s mind so that when they walk out, they are believers in our product. They end up loving our product.”

What a statement.

And how convicting.

You see, I have noticed that when someone brings up a complaint to me, I get heated. I get defensive. I don’t want to listen. I want it my way and right now. My eyes get crossed and my words get slurred and I want to defend my decisions and prove how wrong everyone else is.

But.

What if, instead of defending how correct I am (even when it’s obvious)…

…I spend that time in such a way that people walk out believing in my product?

…I take the time to value that person so that they value me?

…I assure that they don’t walk out knowing I’m right, but joining me in the truth itself?

And I think that this is true not just in our work, but in every argument that comes our way. I know that for me, I often get defensive because defense is my way of life. When you’ve done it “all on your own” for most of your life, you tend to forget that you don’t have to do it all on your own anymore.

And crap, you don’t outgrow that overnight.

It’s almost ironic that I began my day with this passage in Psalm 40 (which, on a side note, I only read because my sister got it tattooed on herself and I decided she was stupid so I ended up reading it to laugh at her, but instead it set my day in a really holy tone… don’t you wish God would stop meddling sometimes?!):

I waited patiently for the Lord to help me,
and he turned to me and heard my cry.
He lifted me out of the pit of despair,
out of the mud and the mire.
He set my feet on solid ground
and steadied me as I walked along.
He has given me a new song to sing,
a hymn of praise to our God.
Many will see what he has done and be amazed.
They will put their trust in the Lord.

God has done so much for us in our lives–taken us from a place of despair and loneliness and given us a solid foundation. The passage goes on to talk about how this story is not only one that we set on our lips, but one we place center in our hearts.

Sometimes we abandon this truth for a lie; we live our lives as if they are self-made and not God-rescued.

And when we live our lives as if it’s our work and not God’s, we forget to think about others. Because they didn’t help us. We did it on our own.

And what we end up doing is not allowing others to join in on that life, that story. We end up putting up walls and blurting out pieces when it’s convenient for us.

*raises hand*

I don’t know how to fix this.

But I can think of something one team in my church says, something I really admire:

Always assume the best in one another.

And I think that’s the best place to start…

…and maybe that’s where it also ends?

Assuming that when someone raises a concern with us, that their concern has value. That this person has value. That their concerns are nothing to laugh about or scoff about, but to consider that a real life human has entered you into a conversation that could end in improvement.

And, even if it’s not improvement in the idea itself…it will at least improve you as a person.

Treating others with the best assumptions always improves you as a person.

Lord, help me learn this. Help me set my story of rescue on my lips and in my heart. And help me invite others into that story, my story, and my thought process in a way that isn’t defensive but restorative.

Describing Ash Wednesday

christianity, lent, Theology

I didn’t know what Ash Wednesday was until 2014, when I was in my first Lenten season at my United Methodist church. I may not have even gone to the service, except I was looking for community that evening and being introduced to a small group for the first time.

Ash Wednesday is now one of my favorite traditions. There’s something about a pastor marking a cross on your forehead while looking into your eyes and saying “Repent and believe the Gospel” that shakes you in your winter boots.

I didn’t understand what it was when I first received the ashes, and if I were to be honest, I don’t think I’ll ever understand the eternal significance of the service. Every time I try, I get blown away.

And since I couldn’t explain it well if I tried, here are my three favorite articles about Ash Wednesday.

Why Ashes? Connecting to who we are and who we can be – The United Methodist Church

When we participate in the service of ashes, we confront our sin. We recognize our inability to live up to all God has created us to be, and our need to be forgiven. No matter how often we go to church, how far we have come in our spiritual journeys, how accomplished we may feel, each of us has sinned and fallen short of the glory of God (Romans 3:23).

…

While this may sound fatalistic, it is not the end of the story. Lent leads to Easter, the day we celebrate that though our bodies are temporary and our lives are flawed, a day of resurrection will come when we will live in the presence of God forever.

One Wednesday every year we go to church remembering who we are, and hopeful of who we can be.

A little reading for Fat Tuesday/Ash Wednesday (from Accidental Saints) – Nadia Bolz-Weber

Here’s my image of Ash Wednesday: If our lives were a long piece of fabric with our baptism on one end and our funeral on another, and we don’t know the distance between the two, then Ash Wednesday is a time when that fabric is pinched in the middle and the ends are held up so that our baptism in the past and our funeral in the future meet. The water and words from our baptism plus the earth and words from our funerals have come from the past and future to meet us in the present. And in that meeting we are reminded of the promises of God: That we are God’s, that there is no sin, no darkness, and yes, no grave that God will not come to find us in and love us back to life. That where two or more are gathered, Christ is with us. These promises outlast our earthly bodies and the limits of time.

Ash (from Searching for Sunday) – Rachel Held-Evans

Once a year, on a Wednesday, we mix ashes with oil. We light candles and confess to one another and to God that we have sinned by what we have done and what we have left undone.  We tell the truth. Then we smear the ashes on our foreheads and together acknowledge the single reality upon which every  Catholic and Protestant, believer and atheist, scientist and mystic can agree: “Remember that you are dust and to dust and to dust you will return.” It’s the only thing we know for sure: we will die.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

But a long time ago, a promise was made. A prophet called  Isaiah said a messenger would come to proclaim good news to the poor and brokenhearted, “to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.” Those who once repented in dust and ashes “will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor” (Isaiah 61:3).

We could not become like God, so God became like us.  God showed us how to heal instead of kill, how to mend instead of destroy, how to love instead of hate, how to live instead of long for more. When we nailed God to a tree, God forgave. And when we buried God in the ground, God got up.

#ThrowbackThursday: Heather talks about Communion

christianity, Theology

When I was growing up, I didn’t understand Communion at all.

And looking back, it’s kind of adorable. I have four stories:

Heather at 7

We called it “Lord’s Supper” at my church growing up. And even though I really didn’t understand it, I was drawn to it.

In our tradition, you didn’t receive Lord’s Supper until you were saved. At the ripe age of 6, all my friends were getting saved and baptized, so I asked Jesus into my heart too. I loved Jesus, but I also wanted to fit in with my friends. Because my parents didn’t attend church, they moved very slowly to honor their wishes and make sure that I was “serious” about that act.

But who is “serious” about Jesus at 6? Well, maybe I was.

And so…I walked down the aisle about another dozen times.

One Sunday, I walked down the aisle to ask Jesus into my heart again. I filled out the membership card again. And because I was in the front aisle, I missed the Lord’s Supper.

After the service, I told the pastor I missed it. He told me it was okay. But I insisted–I was 8 years old and I wanted the wafer and the juice. So, he took the Lord’s Supper with me, individually. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that moment. He may not, either–it’s when the church realized I was going to be pretty unrelenting about this whole Jesus thing. So a few months later, my entire family came to church (for the first and only time in my life) and I was baptized.

Heather at 11

My dad’s side of the family is Catholic. One time we were visiting my great-grandmother’s church for mass. When it was time to receive the Eucharist, I stepped forward. In a Catholic church, only Catholics can receive the sacrament. My family was trying to tell me, in hushed tones, that I couldn’t go forward. In order to get my attention they were pointing and waving and even physically trying to block me.

I’m sure you’re not surprised: I pitched a fit. Upset, I cried and didn’t understand why I couldn’t receive some bread and juice. I didn’t understand the Eucharist fully, but that didn’t mean I should be denied the elements. How could you tell somebody that they can’t have the body and blood of Christ?

Heather at 18

At 18, I was first introduced to Communion by intinction. Up until this point, I had wafers and cups of juice. At one point my church had switched over to the cups where the juice was at the bottom, then there was a film, then the wafer, then another film (Looking back, I wouldn’t ever do it that way again, personally).

We were at summer camp, where I was a counselor. The camp pastor didn’t explain intinction, and nobody knew how to do it…including the adults. He left it on the altar for anybody to take it as they’d like, at their own pace.

About 12 minutes in, nobody took the Lord’s Supper. In the Southern Baptist tradition, you don’t take Lord’s Supper if you have unrepentant sin. The camp pastor got wise to the fact that this room of teenagers wasn’t that strict…so he explained it. And guess who was first to grab that bread?

Heather Lea Campbell.

Heather at 21

I took a class in college called “God and Humanity” that changed my entire perspective on Communion. For the first time, I got it.

At the end of 30 Hour Famine, they suggest breaking the fast with Communion. At my church where I served as youth director, technically anybody could serve it. But women couldn’t serve as pastors, so it’d be taboo for a woman to serve Communion.

I’m sure you can guess: I served Communion to my students. Without asking leaders of the church. I just did it. And it was fantastic.

Heather at 26

Today, I still love Communion. Since I run programs during church services, I don’t take it often, except with staff once a month.

So the Heather of today tries to sneak over into church on the first Sunday of month and take it with the congregation. We use Hawaiian sweet bread, so you can understand.

I didn’t realize my funny history with Communion until I was writing a lesson on it for Confirmation–we talked about how it’s kind of an awkward act, taking someone’s body and blood and popping it down the hatch.

But for me, I have always been an embracer of awkward and mysterious things (hence why I work with middle schoolers).

My hope is that we can raise up a generation that is desperate for Jesus the way I have been my entire life for the bread that represents the Body and the blood that represents his lifeline.

 

What are You Fishing For?

christianity, church, Culture, Evangelicalism, lessons, lgbtq, politics, Theology

When Jesus first called his disciples, they were fishing. Jesus performed the miracle of filling their nets, proving that he was able to provide for their physical (and even financial) needs. Then Jesus said, “Follow me, and I’ll make you a fisher of men.”

These men followed Jesus on a three-year long journey. During this journey, Jesus performed many more miracles and even equipped the disciples to perform miracles of their own. They fed crowds, healed the sick, partied with the poor, and ate with sinners. Slowly, they discovered that Jesus was the Son of God, and Jesus equipped them to truly be “fishers of men.”

But when Jesus died, what happened?

In John chapter 21, Peter says to the disciples, “I’m going fishing.” And the rest of the disciples go with him. Even though Jesus has appeared to them twice thus far after his resurrection, they go back to life as if the last three years didn’t happen. They go fishing. For fish.

And so Jesus does his classic “Jesus thing,” paralleling that first time he calls them. 100 yards from shore, the fog-hidden Jesus tells them to cast their nets out on the other side. The disciples miraculously fill their nets and are unable to haul it to shore.

And Peter does his classic “Peter thing,” and jumps into the sea because he knows that Jesus is alive indeed. Jesus makes Peter go grab the net (because of course Peter left the disciples to do it), and there are 153 fish inside this net. A net that didn’t break.

Scholars say that at the time, there were only 153 species of fish known in the world.

Biblical scholars say that this net–the net that didn’t break–is representative of the Church. The 153 fish represent the different types of people in the world. When the disciples were trying to go back to just “fishing for fish,” Jesus had bigger plans to show them why they are to continue “fishing for men.”

The net is big enough for everybody. No longer is the net confined to one type of person. Everybody is allowed.

What does this mean for the Church today?

Who are the fish that we are excluding from the net, that perhaps need the safety and comfort of the net? Why are we creating an “insiders vs outsiders” mentality in the church, when all of us were made in the precious image of God? We all deserve the net equally, and the fisherman shouldn’t discriminate from who he allows to be a part of the Church.

What is the baggage that we think will exclude us from the net? You see, the net can hold it all without breaking. It can hold all of your doubts, insecurities, sins, shortcomings, failures, successes, and anything else. Being a certain type of fish doesn’t get you tossed back into the sea.

Why are we not united like the net? One net, 153 fish. This is the Kingdom of God. This is the one net that can hold it all and won’t break. This is the one net that can hold you, me, your crazy uncle, and the person in the office next to you, the rude lady who flipped you off in traffic, your ex-boothang, that person on Facebook who has political views that make you want to hurl, your neighbor whose family looks different from yours, your landlord, and Taco Bell employees at 3am.

I’m so thankful to be a part of a congregation that acknowledges that we are all so incredibly different, but it’s one Kingdom that holds us all.

What are you fishing for? Are you freely fishing for men, all men? Or are you acting as if the resurrection never happened, and you’re back to exclusively fishing for fish?

On Demon Pigs

christianity, lent, millennials

I’m beginning to gain a reputation as the youth minister who tells her tweens really weird stories.

And I’m okay with that.

This week in our Lenton series we told the story of Jesus taking the disciples to Decapolis and curing men there of demons by casting them into pigs that go flailing off the cliff.

I made all of our 5th-7th graders pinky promise me that we wouldn’t get caught up on the “demons” portion of the story, but that instead we would focus on why Jesus would take the disciples to Decapolis (which is the purpose of this particular series–why does Jesus take us these places?). Decapolis was a place Jews weren’t supposed to go, as evidenced by the pigs there. But why would Jesus take them to that place?

Jesus took them to that place because he wanted to show the disciples that they could leave a potential anywhere. That place was unfamilar, a place unlike any place they’ve ever experienced before. But faith with God takes us to those places that were unfamiliar so that on one hand our hearts can be softened for that environment and learn from it…but also so that we can impact those places in the same way that we’ve been impacted.

As I processed this with my small group, I thought about places in my life that were unfamiliar, places that I was unaware of the possibility of potential. I usually jump to when I began college–I was this poor city kid in an affluent rural school, trying to figure out friends who went “mudding” for fun. I put up a wall between myself and others because I didn’t think that we would understand each other. But I learned a lot about community with people who came from all kinds of different backgrounds as me.

But I think I forgot about this. Or at least, didn’t associate it to what I’m experiencing now: Moving my life to Indianapolis has been extremely difficult. It’s been difficult to find community. I thought that was because I was in an environment where I no one could possibly understand me. There’s a lot of affluency in this culture, and I thought that they wouldn’t get me. I thought they wouldn’t understand my background. Or my humor. Or my pain. Or me.

But in a sense, it’s like when I went to college and explored a new culture. The thing that excited me when I moved to Indianapolis was the possibility of doing faith in a brand new way. But I didn’t realize that I was going to have to do community in a brand new way.

I think the biggest hurdle isn’t finding people who are like me. It’s finding people who want to do messy community with me. I’ve always been in places where people lay their junk out in the open. We weren’t the same, just people who wanted to live openly. People who knew that diversity didn’t hinder community, but was a symptom of it.

I feel like today is almost a turning point for me. I had my “AHA” moment and realized that I can build community anywhere with anyone, as long as they are willing to build it back. I can continue being my messy, open self as long as others can be messy and open. And that’s difficult to find. But that’s what the Church does.

What SBC Life Taught Me

christianity, church, Evangelicalism, millennials

Now that I’m in a mainline church, whenever I talk about growing up in the Southern Baptist Convention (and earning my degree from an SBC school), it’s not rare to get side looks or the occasional “you poor thing…”

As I reflect over the 18 years of life in the SBC, and how that shaped me as a person, I’m quite thankful for growing up in the tradition. Sure, religion is messy in general, and that particular faith tradition carries the stigma of exclusive theology. Yet, it shaped so many beautiful things about myself and how I see the world.

It taught me to value God’s Word

Conservative church tradition holds the Bible as God’s word and puts it above all else. This means that no man is the ultimate authority, but the Bible is. Of course, it takes a lot of faith to believe in a written document as the last authority on earth; yet because of the weight it holds, it’s learned that every answer to life can be found in there. This enriches life, because it brings a sense of simplicity that life never has.

Plus, I can quite scripture like mad-crazy, and Jesus juke any situation.

It taught me to center everything on Christ

Many conservative churches teach the art of self-reflection through altar calls that ask you to examine how you’re living your life.  Every week, you are reevaluating your relationship with God, keeping it centered, and staying focused on the process of sanctification. Done right, this means you become incredibly self-aware and humble. Philippians 2, a beautiful passage on how Christ lived on earth, becomes a ruler for life.

It showed me how to live in an authentic church community

In SBC life, everything revolves around the church. It can be obnoxious at times to be at church so much, but it forces close community with those you’re around. I loved having ten grandmas at church, potluck dinner every Sunday, and being a part of “life group.”  Many times, Millennials with more mainline theology will ride it out in a conservative church, primarily because of the community that is there.

It taught me to follow the rules

I can’t lie: I’m a severe rule-follower.  Many people in my life tell me that I need to loosen up, and I’m getting there!  But you have to understand something: Fundamentalism saved my life.  I don’t mean that to sound melodramatic, for I truly believe that.  The world we live in is very grey, and I learned to put up boundaries.  Because I value God and His Word, I try to follow both as closely as possible.

It demonstrated a missional life of inclusivity

Southern Baptists are the best at sending missionaries in the world, and my SBC university sent out more missions teams than any other college.  With that comes the gift of sharing your faith with anyone and everyone. The best gift that comes with a missional life is the gift of inclusivity towards the poor and disenfranchised. Sure, conservative church culture has much to learn in terms of inclusivity in general, but because missions is often part of its DNA, so is taking in the orphans and widows.  That was me: a child who was thirsty, and they took me in and met my physical needs as well as my social and spiritual ones. 

—

With all of these, I can pick out the negatives that went along with them.  I learned to be close-minded and think that my way was the way.  Something I’m noticing, however, is the increased humility among many conservative church leaders.  There are some beautiful things about how I grew up, and I seek to bring these things into my Mainline church community.  Why wouldn’t I want my students to learn to put God and the Bible first, to live in genuine community with one another, to follow God’s commandments to love Him, and therefore, love one another with a missional and inclusive life? 

So now, when I tell people my background, I don’t have to duck my head and hide from it: Where I came from had beauty. And I can bring that beauty everywhere.

Willow Creek Leadership Summit, Day 1!

christianity, church, Conference, WCLS

I’m very excited to join the Willow Creek Leadership Summit at the Grace Community Church satellite site in Indianapolis for the first time!  My church brings almost 100 people to this summit, and I love being able to do this with almost our entire staff team, as well as many of our dedicated volunteers.

Here are some of the highlights of the day that will stick with me:

One theme that was talked about was the idea of “visions” as part of being a “legacy leader.” If you want to leave your mark on an organization and leave a legacy, then Bill Hybels said:

  • What God treasures most are people…even more than visions.
  • Nobody drifts into being a legacy leader
  • The grander the vision, greater the price tag.
  • Legacy leaders will ride out the rough patches because they are working for the grandeur vision.

Another thing I loved is that the conference on our campus was full of young people.  Older leaders were inspired to give younger emerging leaders a chance, and by increasing the realms of responsibility, we can entrust emerging leaders with more.  One of our volunteers, who is active throughout the church and is an empty nester, pulled me aside and said, “The whole time I was thinking of you.” Mmm. So powerful.

None of us are “born” leaders, but have a passion and a vision and put it into action.  Carly Fiorina said, ” The highest calling of leadership is to unlock the potential in others.” This means that one of the greatest parts of being a leader is being able to groom new leaders. Leadership doesn’t happen top-down, but bottom-up–you can’t change an organization by changing the heads, but by getting the “grunts” on board. She said, “Jesus didn’t go to the poor because they needed help. He went to the poor because he knew the potential they had.” Yes yes yes.

Susan Cain’s talk on introverts was very inspiring. I’m a pretty middle-of-the-line kind of gal, who is extremely outgoing, but gets drained and needs pajamas and her cat. I loved that she was willing to challenge the status quo of organizations run by extroverts, and explain that we need to give space so that every person can work within the stimulation they’re capable of handling. We live in a world where everything is so loud, that we forget the beauty of quiet; therefore we forget the beauty of introverts.  She also pointed out that we need to think of “networking in terms of service.” Instead of sweet-talking, I could prove myself through my actions (a model I’m way better at).

The idea of self-sacrifice as a leader was important to Patrick Lencioni; “I’m tired of hearing about servant leadership because I don’t think there’s any other kind of leadership. . .A true leader sacrifices themselves for the well-being of others without a guarantee of a return on investment.”

There’s much more than I can write here, but day one was inspiring!

I’m going to stock my bookshelf tomorrow…

(PS–I LOVE conferences, but I cannot sit still to save my life…Millennial problems.)

What #OC14 Taught Me

christianity, junior high ministry, leadership, lgbtq, Ministry, youth ministry

I went to Orange for the first time last week, making that my third ministry conference experience in the last 14 months! Here comes Middle School Campference this fall! :)

Here is the 900-word summary of what I learned:

Youth Ministry is about the Family.

Doug Fields said, “You may be a children’s or youth worker, but you’re also doing marriage ministry.”

Let’s get real: Programs compete with the family. My junior high Sunday nights do nothing to serve the family; it just takes students away from their one family night. If I care about my students, then I care about the time they spend with their families; therefore I need to make sure they get as much time there as possible.

When there’s an issue in the church, we try to answer it with programs.  Heather Zempel said, “Programs to not disciple people. People disciple people.”  She also said, “Instead of finding people to serve structures, find structures that serve people.”

In Reggie Joiner’s breakout, he gave two pointers for ministers in their 20s that I keep thinking about. The first is applicable here: Be intentional about keeping things simple. Yearly decide what to stop in order to do other things better. That doesn’t mean to just get rid of something that’s not working. True leadership comes when you prune strong stuff to make the weak show its potential.

Tension is GOOD.

Reggie gave a message that made my SBC brain officially reconcile with my new UMC ministry.

There are all of these tensions: “I believe that the Bible is God’s word and authoritative” no longer has to compete with “This person needs love.” Reggie Joiner said (something like), “If your beliefs are hurting people, then it is time to reevaluate your beliefs.” He also said, “Kids should feel safe enough to process their doubt so they can own their faith.”

Truth no longer competes with Grace. The Church no longer has to compete with the World. Faith no longer has to compete with Doubt. They can work together, constantly be in tension with one another, and that’s beautiful. You can know God with all your heart, and he can still be a huge mystery. You no longer have to pick one or another; there is no sacrifice in living with tension.

“Say yes to beliefs that matter. Say yes to people who matter more.“

“Say yes to the uncomfortable moments to see lives changed.”

Volunteers need to be owners, not renters.

Reggie Joiner said in a breakout that one of the keys to having a ministry that disciples kids instead of babysitting them is having weekly volunteers who are invested. Having rotating volunteers does nothing for ministry. He said, “You may be teaching kids truth each week with a different leader, but you’re not discipling them.”  He also pointed out that leaders may not understand the need to be there each week because they don’t understand the importance. He said, “People don’t commit to weekly because we haven’t invited them to commit to something significant.”  Our family pastor who was with us, David Williamson, added in our staff discussion: “Are you asking for less of a commitment from volunteers than you expect from attending families?” Brilliant. So brilliant. I plan to blog about this in abundance.

Sue Miller then used an analogy in her breakout about how volunteers need to be owners, and not renters. Owners see a problem in their home and they fix it. Renters call the landlord and expect them to fix it.  We have to convince our volunteers to commit to and sign the mortgage, and be realistic that it may cost them something. They need to learn that it is THEIR house and THEIR ministry…and that they are on a team of people who feel the same. Sue said, “It’s easy to leave a task, but few will leave a family…When volunteers rent, they don’t get deep enough to join a family.”

Jeff Henderson said something that will preach all day, “You will never experience what the church can do for you until you see what the church can do through you.”

We can talk about homosexuality.

Andy Stanley gave the most loving, inclusive talk on same-sex attraction I have ever heard. No matter where your stance is on the subject theologically, it is difficult to argue with Andy on his approach to talking with middle schoolers. Andy said that his church has adopted this statement: “We believe the church should be the safest place to talk about anything, including same-sex attraction.”

Andy reminded us that the answers we give to our kids are the answers that they will have with them for the rest of their lives… Jeff Henderson said that “sometimes ministry gets in the way of ministering.” Sometimes we have to put our personal beliefs on hold to love a kid where they’re at. But especially with junior highers, we don’t need to get into theology. We need to get into Grace. We need to get into Love. And we need to get into the Truth that Jesus loves us right where we’re at. That’ll preach!

One last thought from Jon Acuff: “God will never be handcuffed by the failures nor unleashed by the successes of your ministry.”

And from Mark Batterson: “In an argument with God you need to lose so that you can win.” Because “sometimes God shows up, and sometimes God shows off.”

What did you guys learn at Orange? My head is spinning. :)

Call Me a Boom Baptist.

christianity, millennials, theology, unchurched

Evangelicalism is getting radical.

In my last post on what Millennials want, I hit on this, but not completely: Evangelical Christians are not fitting into a mold anymore.  Millennials are desiring to live a faith that is not dichotomized into liberal/conservative, Democrat/Republican, evangelical/mainline categories. Millennials just want to live like Jesus, and that’s not in some pretty boxed-up category.

I’ve been taught my whole life that being anything but Southern Baptist was just not “the way.”

Then I went to a SBC college, took theology and doctrine classes, and learned that it was possible that I would spend eternity with other denominations, as long as they were evangelical or didn’t baptize babies.

Then I graduated college and spent some time in an Evangelical Presbyterian church, a church that taught me that baptizing babies wouldn’t send you to hell.

And now I work in a Mainline church, so I hope that isn’t true.

I share my background to let you know that I have grown a lot. I’m constantly being shaped.

So are a lot of Evangelicals that I HIGHLY respect.  The best example is Lecrae, a Christian Hip-Hop artist whose initial songs were so explicitly Jesus, that they were cheesy. His next round of albums, although amazing, had such deep theology in its lyrics that you had to be a pretty mature Christian to even really understand what was going on.  Now, his music has turned up (Turnt up?) in production quality, but isn’t so explicitly Jesus anymore.  Some conservative Christians think he’s turning back on his faith. But as Lecrae points out countless times, especially in this Huffington Post article, he’s trying a new approach to reaching people for Christ: loving on them. Walking with them. And stopping the shoving of Jesus down their throats. I could lie and say that nothing about Lecrae has really changed, but au contraire: Lecrae is trying to imitate Jesus instead of just preaching him.

I feel like I relate to that so incredibly much, and I often struggle with how I’m perceived because of it. Andy Mineo, another Christian Hip-Hop artist, says in the song at the end of this post, “I talk about Jesus, all the Christians love me. I walk like Jesus, now they wanna judge me; ain’t it funny?”  I’m in a stage of life where I’m questioning and incredibly empathetic towards others, and it’s the most beautiful and the most frustrating thing about me. But I finally feel like I’m beginning to understand the state of humanity as well as individuals.

Another Evangelical that I wasn’t expecting, but who blew my mind (and impressed me) was Bart Milliard of MercyMe. I’ve probably been to more MercyMe concerts than any other artist. I connected with their music as a young Evangelical, and they helped shape some of my faith as a teenager.  It would be safe to assume, since our culture is assuming this about all Evangelicals, that the members are probably close-minded and uber-conservative. Like Lecrae, their music was very “Jesus Jesus Jesus” all the time; and that’s not bad! But I think Evangelicals are beginning to realize that they were only reaching other Evangelicals.

And I read this article by Bart that made me weep like a baby.

And again, as Andy Mineo put it, “I’m on a different tactic, call me a Boom Baptist.”

I am unashamedly rooted in an Evangelical foundation. Now I’m going to take the “Evangelize” out of “Evangelical” and put it to work–by walking with the lost where they’re at. Loving on them. Finding and giving them hope (as my church puts it).

I’m on a new path.

What Millennials Want

america, christianity, church, millennials, unchurched

I hear so much talk about “how to reach Millennials” in the Church. In case you need a refresher or a definition on what a MIllennial is, it is the group of people born from early 1980s to early 2000s. Seeing as I was born in 1990, I am smack dab in the middle, so you could say with all confidence that I embody a Millennial.

Here’s the thing: I hear all this talk about how to reach my age group, a group of people who have fallen in the cracks and who the church have lost.  I see committees get together on how to reach me, I hear people talk about how to savvy up their technology to reach me, how to hire people in positions specifically to reach me, and how to make these fun parties or events to reach me.  But guess the average age on these groups of people making decisions for me? Mid-40s-early 50s.

No one is asking me what I want for my generation.

Some people argue that it’s because Millennials don’t know what they want. Oh, the contrary. Millennials are the most educated generation yet, and even our criticized love of entitlement says something bold: We have a dream, a specific dream, and we won’t stop until we get it. We will kick, scream, and even leave the Church if we don’t get what we want.

And let me stop to say a disclaimer and something that may shock you: If I wasn’t in youth ministry, I would probably not be in the Church, too. My vocation has committed me to the Church, and it is difficult most days.  It is difficult serving in an environment where everyone is old enough to be my parents and, in most cases, my grandparents. I find it embarrassing when a new young person comes and the only person that can connect to them is me.  Because I have a huge desire for my lost generation, I do it and I don’t complain, because I am passionate about it and love it.  Yet, it gives a huge message from the Church to that person coming in: We have nothing for you except for this one person. Now, multiply and build us a young adult ministry.

Doesn’t work like that. Church, if you want to grow younger, which you need to if you don’t want to die, then you need to get involved. Here is proof that Christianity is dying, and it is up to you:

http://www.patheos.com/blogs/tonyjones/2014/02/06/bye-bye-millennials/

So here are a few things us Millennials want:

We are tired of the gimmicks.

Most churches think that to reach a younger generation, they have to change themselves to look younger. So, they spend a lot of money updating their sound system, their building space, and their music to reach young people.

But, let’s be honest: If I wanted those things, I could get that just about anywhere. But I’m not anywhere. I’m lost in the cracks.

If you want to reach me, then you need to be real with me. You need to show me what it is like to authentically walk in faith. Quit deceiving me with gimmicks. I view hundreds of advertisements a day that are selling me something, I don’t need to be “sold Church” with those same gimmicks. Give me something real. Give me something authentic. And don’t try to “sell me authenticity” too, just prove it.

We want to get back to the fundamentals.

You may not have noticed this, but there is actually a resurgence within Christianity among young people that is calling for a more conservative Christianity in terms of theology.  We are reevaluating classic debates in early Christendom and getting a little more classical and traditional.   Even reformed theology is even getting trendy, something that I grew up thinking was “evil” but somehow find myself in camp with.

Not only is our theology getting more fundamental, but so are our ethics and traditions. There is the call for men to get back to becoming men, and start leading again. I have friends who grew up in congregationalist churches running to liturgical churches, because the tradition is beautiful to them. Even I, who grew up very congregationalist, am finding comfort in a church that is famous for its traditionalism.  There is something refreshing here, probably because it’s authentic and it’s not being pushed on me, but I chose it for myself (back to that first point!).

We want you to care about what we care about.

Millennials are passionate about social justice, and that is rooted not only in our culture but in our spiritual and religious beliefs. We believe in a radical Jesus who helped the hurting and gave a political message of love for everyone. This translates into everything that we do: This is why we’re all over “green initiatives,” human trafficking, racial equality, healthy  and ethical eating, and even gay marriage. We believe in equality, regardless of background of a person. And we believe that comes from Jesus. And since we believe that came from Jesus, we need you to see that, too.

We want the destruction of dichotomies.

You may have noticed that some of this contradicts itself: How are Millennials getting more conservative theologically, yet at the same time fighting for gay marriage? Ha, great question!

That’s because we are sick and tired of being put into a box.

We see you guys fighting in the White House, and think there is a third option to being a Republican or a Democrat. I don’t need to be labeled as Evangelical or Mainline. I am not Conservative or Liberal. I can vote for gay marriage and think it’s incompatible with my religious beliefs, because I can believe that there is a separation between church and state.

You cannot put Millennials in a box.

And the beautiful part of this article? This is the way one Millennial feels. Although I feel like this article sums Millennial Christians up, there will still be some variance, and that’s what makes Millennials: Millennials. We are unique and have unique voices.

And church, that’s why you need to pay better attention: Because we are ever-changing, ever-growing. And, the next generation is up to bat, which means it’s our turn to shape them.  And how can we do that if the generation above us hasn’t shaped us?

We want YOU.

We cannot do this alone. As a generation that values learning and knowledge, we need to get this from somewhere.

We need you. Sometimes we scare you, and perhaps rightly so; but quit running away from your responsibility to train us and equip us with wisdom.  We are an abandoned generation by the Church, and we need to get back on track. However, we cannot do it without you.

As a disclaimer: When I say “Church” I mean the Church as a whole, and not one specific church. I appreciate some of the efforts the church I am blessed to serve in is doing, and I look forward to being a part of the visioning of how to reach younger people.