an unimpressive god

Sitting in chapel the other day, I was taken back as I looked around the auditorium. To the right the girl sitting next to me was checking her email on her cell phone; the girl to my left was texting. Another row up a guy pulls out his phone as his thumbs meticulously pound on the screen. I felt that maybe I was missing out in the chorus of small glowing screens that seemed to be appearing all around me.

Now I must admit that I’m currently not the biggest fan of chapel, but I couldn’t help but wondering ‘is it really that boring? Is getting that text out right now that important? Have our attention spans become that small?’ I’ve had conversations with people after chapel asking what they thought of the services and answers tend to be all over the spectrum. However when there’s a teacher who’s able to speak with high energy, clever rhetoric, and an in-your-face message, the majority of students come away generally pleased--it was an impressive chapel. Yet those times that don’t seem quite up to par, well, that’s when the cell phones come out.

Lately I’ve been chewing on this thought of am unimpressive God. When I was talking with a friend about why he and his family chose to start going to the Episcopal church (where I’m now going), he mentioned that there’s really nothing impressive about it. No one is going to pull out flashy teaching or put on something that will draw more people in. You can take it or leave it.

Now in all of this I do not mean to say that God is unimpressive in the way that we commonly think of the word. He is omnipotent, omnibenevolent, omniscient, and he is God; that is impressive. But even in the ministry of Jesus we see that when the Pharisees ask Jesus for a miracle, something flashy and impressive, Jesus rebukes them. He never tried to be impressive. Henri Nouwen refers to it as the need to be relevant, when in reality all that one has to offer is their vulnerable self.

Often times we think of how this applies to us as church leaders as we struggle with the temptation to be impressive. But I want to ask what implications does this have on us as we participate in things such as chapel and church? Are we able and willing to open ourselves up to the unimpressiveness of Jesus? Can we put aside our impressive technology and desire to be entertained for a moment to be stilled by something unimpressive?

faithful

This weekend I had some of my highschool small group girls from Upland come and visit. It was great to see them and see them experience a bit of Chicago—we ate at Giordano’s, went along the lake front, Navy Pier, Millennium Park, and the absurdity known as Macy’s.

Over the past three years I’ve been a volunteer at Upland Community Church’s youth group, and it’s been an amazing experience to see how much change can happen over the course of three years. As the girls were driving away I remembered the beginning of the school year with our small group. God brought an incredible co-leader, Carie, to lead with me, but when we saw the groups of girls in our group we wondered how in the world is this going to work out?

It was an odd mix of girls, and the first months or so were rough. Yet as I watched them drive away this weekend I was left in awe of God’s faithfulness. It’s incredible how far we’ve come since last September. The girls have accepted each other, vulnerability has happened, and they have grown together.

Being involved with the youth at UCC is one of the most difficult and rewarding things that I have done. As I am getting ready to enter into my fourth year with these students I can’t help but see how faithful God has been.

three little words

No, I’m not talking about the words I love you, though those can be important words too. What I’m talking about is probably less common, but in many ways I see as equally important.

Most of us have all had done our time if not lived our whole lives in a variety of Christian communities. In my experiences in such places, especially at Taylor and now here at YouthWorks, there’s a desire, an expectation, at times perhaps an obligation that we are to have meaningful interactions with everyone. That’s understandable; we all have a desire to connect with others and have deep relationships. Yet this expectation seems to also cause some damage.

It’s typical that when we are trying to get to know someone we try to find some common ground and there is nothing wrong with that. Perhaps it’s something like a shared liking of a sport or the outdoors or places we’ve been; we always try to find that common group. While this can be a good thing and helps us start down that road to meaningful interactions and deep-felt relationships, it can also be a great downfall (or so it seems to me).

I think a lot of times we carry this mentality over into deeper, more personal sides, of relationships too, and this is where I think that it can become harmful. Just because we are both trying to follow Jesus and maybe even have similar life experiences does not mean that we can fully understand what a person is going through. It seems that that attempt to find that common ground is brought to the table when we know someone who is experiencing something difficult. And it is without a doubt that we have all experienced difficult times in life, but to try to find a common ground amidst someone’s struggles can be more hurtful than caring. The thing is I don’t think people in Christian circles even realize that they are doing this.

I had a conversation with a dear friend Adam last night about this very topic. It is very easy for us to identify with someone else’s pain, frustration, or perhaps fears. Yet when we say the words I understand, it is as if we are minimalizing their experience. It can easily come across as I’ve been there and done that and really it’s not that big of a deal, all the while this may be the world that this person is experiencing and dealing with in the present.

There are times to seek that common ground, but far too often we are overly eager to find that. It has been my experience that in times of frustration, pain, and fear the most comforting of words can be I don’t understand or I can’t imagine. Those three little words are the ones that carry the most significance.

It’s not so much that we are looking for people who have dealt with those same issues that we may be facing, but rather I think we want someone to validate. The most meaningful relationship that I have had with others are the ones in which we admit that perhaps we can’t fully understand what the other is experiencing, yet we choose to be there, validate them, and offer our input only when appropriate. There’s a vulnerability in admitting that. This is not letting us off the chain and saying that because we don't understand we don't have to listen. No, perhaps the best thing we can do is listen, affirm, and be silent.

I think our world , us, and those around us are in need of a lot more I don’t understands rather than our advice and life stories. But then again those are just my thoughts and ramblings.


This has been a great frustration of my summer, so if you’ve read all of this I am impressed. thanks for reading along

i choose the city

I got this from a friend, and thought I would share. It's by Dr. Francis DuBose, a seminary professor of urban ministry and missiologist.



I Choose the City by Francis DuBose

I choose the city…
Not simply to live in it,
to see it,
to hear it;
But to touch it;
yes, to embrace it,
to hold it,

To feel the wild glory of its
pulsating soul,

To move over its wide,
hurried broadways,

To stand stilled and sobered
at the nowhere of its dead-end streets,

To be trapped with it in its
pain and problems,

To be at once chilled by its ill
and covered with its confetti.

I choose the city because I choose God,
Because I choose humanity,
Because I choose the divine-human
struggle–

The struggle which will be won
Not in the serene path through
meadow and wood,
among the bees and birds, and flowers,

But in the city street
Made by the hand of man
Through the gift of God–
Main Street: the final battle field,
The scene of the ultimate struggle,
Where man chooses right
Because he is free to choose wrong.

Babylon, dirty and daring–
Babylon, yes–
Babylon today–

Tomorrow…
The New Jerusalem!

Francis DuBose, Mystic on Main Street, Chapel Hill, NC: Professional Press, 1993, pp. 78, 79.

the norm

This week is our third group of participants on site out of eight. Already I am feeling the drain of doing the same thing continuously for eight weeks in a row. It’s a little different too, because unlike camps, the students that come to our sites already have adult leaders with them—we’re just here to iron out the details, get them plugged in, and try to steer them in the right direction.

Tonight I felt that drain unlike any other. For the first time in a long time I had some time to think. We had an hour before club (our nightly church service type thing), and Brad and I had finished setting up the chapel. So while Brad was chillin and playing guitar, I got to think and be.

The summer has been an immense challenge and I’m not even half way through it. After the semester abroad I feel as if I’m still making cultural adjustments especially moving back into an extremely Christian environment. As I sat there wrestling with God and my own thoughts, there was a great feeling of purpose and meaninglessness. I have no idea why I’m here or why YouthWorks is here or the 70-80 participants that come every week. And it’s with those doubts that I entered into our club time.

But for some reason last night, God decided to make it clear to me that he is at work here. To make a long story short there ended up being three students crying, adult leaders saying that they had some of the best conversation in church group time following, and our neighbors who came to sit in for the evening said that was exactly what they needed to hear. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that these are signs of greatness or that making people cry is the perfect symbol of spiritual growth or challenge, but all of that served as a sign that there was something going on. That for some reason God is using what we’re doing though many times it feels pointless. That feeling is fleeting, but I’m learning that for this summer it will be something that I have to trust.

I still don’t know how or why I am here or how God is working through this thing called YouthWorks, but he is and for some reason I’m here in the middle of it. Thank you, God, that you can use people like me.

i'm back

I´m back to posting on this thing again, but you may be wondering why it´s been so long...

Well, other than our limited internet access, it just so happens that my computer decided that it would be a good time to play dead. And it´s still being dead.

The great part about it all is that a few days before I had been praying that God would take away any distractions or hinderances to my time here. Yet still these past few days since the computer died have been some of the best and most joyful days that I´ve had since being here. Funny how that all works out.

morning

One of my favorite things has to be rediscovering something you love. Like catching up with a friend you haven’t seen in ages, picking up a favorite book, going back to something you started, or just being reminded of why you’re doing what you’re doing.

All that to say, I had one of those moments this week. On the way to my early morning CPR training, I witnessed an amazing Colorado Springs’ sunrise. I am very much a morning person, and being out of school and out of a routine I have greatly missed the goodness of early morning and sunrise. But not this Friday. I left time to take the longer route that runs alongside Garden of the Gods at the foot of Pikes Peak. It was nothing short of spectacular. There is something about the stillness of the morning that is so refreshing and humbling. I was re-introduced to that this Friday. Waking up to such a visible display of God's glory has to be one of my favorite things rediscovered.

Thank you, God, for rediscovery and that you always bring morning.