The Day My Son Got In A Fight

Yesterday evening, as my wife and I were beginning to unpack the day and forage through the refrigerator for whatever leftovers we could scrounge together for dinner and as our three-year-old son, Zachary was once again finding himself mesmerized by his new favorite show, "Paw Patrol," Debra shared with me this piece of  news:

"I talked to Zach's teacher today," she started, "evidently another boy hit him today."

While disappointing and somewhat disconcerting, this was not the first time an incident like this has happened since he has been at his current school.  It seems like every couple of weeks he is either getting hit or bit by another boy (or girl).  We have been searching for ways to try to get this problem somewhat reconciled with his teacher and the administrators, but when it's one teacher and a whole bunch of 3-year-old children, there's only so much you can do.  So, this news by itself was not all that troubling or surprising, what was troubling was what came next:

"And Zachary hit him back."

This news hit me (forgive the expression) hard. This was the first time I could remember hearing news that Zachary had retaliated in this way. It was surprising to me to learn of this because Zach is an altogether super sweet kid.  He is not one that is all that rough when he plays and is not one to get violent or destructive when he gets angry with Debra or I.  Generally when he gets mad (which isn't all that often) he will either curl up into a "limp noodle" or will attempt to ignore whatever it is we are trying to tell him.  Very rarely have I seen him act out in a way that could even be considered physical.

This news was disappointing to me because we, as pastors who believe in following the example of Jesus, have done our very best to teach Zach the way of non-violence and the way of peace.   We do not watch shows on television that could be considered violent (Chiefs and TCU football not withstanding), he does not own any toy guns, swords, or the like, he is not spanked by either Debra or I, and the common expression around our house in those times when he does get angry is, "Hugs not Hits." This approach is one that we both believe in very strongly and it is one that, for the most part, seems to work.

But what about those times, like yesterday, when the lessons of peace and the example on non-violence is unheeded?  What about those times when the desire of one to live in peace bumps up against the very real human condition and the intrinsic desire to retaliate and to "get even"?

As a parent, in that moment there in our kitchen as I learned that my son had gotten into his first "fight," a myriad of thoughts and questions began to run through my brain.  "Have we done something wrong?"  "Is there something going on with Zach?" "Did the other kid 'deserve' it?"  "What now?"

Understanding that we had to respond to this in some way, we summoned Zach away from watching the "Paw Patrol" rescue a kitten who had been washed out to sea on a toy boat, and we asked him what had happened.  To be honest, I was not really expecting him to be able to formulate much of a response.  Often when we ask him what he did at school he says, "nothing," or perhaps, "ate dinner."  But amazingly enough, he could recount the whole incident in pretty specific detail.  Which of course brought to mind a whole new question, "why do we remember things like this, but not always the good teaching moments that happen throughout our day?"

After he recounted the experience to us, we told him the only thing we knew to say, "we do not hit, when that happens you walk away and tell a teacher."

Perhaps this was not the "right" response, perhaps there were (are) better ways to react when you hear that your firstborn son, who is only three years of age had, if for only a moment, resorted to his most primal instincts and lashed out against another child. It was a struggle for Debra and I to determine there on the spot what our response to Zachary would be.  We believe in Jesus' example of "turning the other cheek," but, of course, like all parents, we want our son to be able to stand up for himself and to not allow other children to take advantage of his peacefulness.  We, like him, had only a moment to respond to what had happened, and we had to make a decision.  What else could we do?

How do you really explain the path of non-violence to a young child anyway? How do you explain it to grown-ups? Forget non-violence for a second, and tell me how we explain violence?  How do we explain the destructiveness that violence and retaliation brings to both ourselves and to those around us?  So many times a peaceful way of life does not make sense and flies in the face of both what our society tells us is normal and the animalistic instincts that exist within each and every one of us.  How do we explain to our child that when someone hurts them, the proper response is to not attempt to "get even?"  How do we explain that there are other forms of justice, even within the world of three year olds?

Perhaps more importantly, how do we as parents, set and live the example we want our children to follow? How do we help them see that choosing to live in peace with those around us is the most faithful and authentic demonstration of what strength truly is?

These are the questions that are on my heart today.  The events of yesterday are long since forgotten in the mind of Zach.  Today is a new day. He woke up, ate his waffle, enjoyed a new (finally!) episode of "Paw Patrol" and happily trotted into his classroom.  And this morning as I watched him interact with another smiling little boy (perhaps the one who hit him?) I thought to myself,

"Maybe I do not have much to teach him about living in peace after all....perhaps instead he has a few lessons he could teach me."

I Might Be The World's Worst Evangelist (and why I'm okay with it)

The other day I'm  cruising down the highway  listening to the "Frozen" soundtrack (don't judge, just let it go) when I run over something hard and metallic, which, of course, blew out one of my front tires.  This was not the first time this has happened since moving to Oklahoma, so my level of frustration was higher than it probably should have been as I maneuvered my poor car off the highway and over to the shoulder.

After reassuring my three-year-old son who was in the backseat that we were okay and answering "yes" multiple times to the question, "Daddy broke a tire?" I had just begun the process of unpacking all the needed items to change out said tire when an old, beat-up minivan pulls up behind me.  "Great," I thought, "This is how most horror movies begin."

I needn't have been concerned, however, because out of that van stepped an older gentleman who simply needed to know if I needed any help with the car.  After thanking this Good Samaritan and telling him that I thought I could handle it, we got to talking for a few minutes. Seeing as how I was rather preoccupied with the task at hand, this man did most of the questioning.   "Are you from around here?" (Yes)  While pointing to my son in the back seat, "Is this your only child?" (No) And then, seemingly out of the blue, this question came to me, "Are you a Christian?"  After recovering quickly at the surprise of this inquiry, I told him yes and that my wife and I were in fact, both ordained pastors.  He smiled, nodded and then replied, "Well, I'm glad I stopped."  Just like that, he then got back into his van and drove away.  It was an awkward end to an otherwise (given the circumstances) pleasant exchange.

In the  days since that event, I have been thinking more about that man and about that conversation and namely his desire to know if I proclaimed myself as a follower of Jesus. As I recounted that experience in my mind and to my wife, my mind started to ask questions. What would his response been had I answered otherwise?  Would the same offer to help had been extended (or rescinded) if I had professed allegiance to another faith (or no faith at all)? Was there an intention present all along to evangelize a young(ish) broken down traveler? The truth of the matter is, I have no idea and will never have a way of knowing. All I know for sure is that I am grateful for his willingness to stop and help, and now as I continue to think back on that exchange there on the side of the highway, I realize why the ending of  that conversation seems so perplexing to me;

I never would have thought to inquire about the religious beliefs of a person I had just met.

As I came to that understanding, I also realized that I cannot remember the last time (if ever) I have actually inquired about anyone's religious affiliation, regardless of the circumstances. As a pastor, this feels strange to acknowledge, but I believe it is, in fact, true.  In my ten-plus years of pastoral ministry, I do not think the words, "Are you a Christian" have ever passed through my lips. To be honest, I do not know if I've ever asked anyone if they even WANT to be a Christian. Once this light dawned on me, I thought to myself, "I might be the world's worst evangelist."

If this is true, I accept that title.  To be fair, I come by my evangelistic inadequacies honestly.  As a life-long member of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) I am part of a tradition that tends to shy away from that sort of on-the-spot questioning. As a tried and true introvert, I tend to prefer to be left to my own devices and generally assume that most others do as well.  Who are you to question me? Who am I to question you? Finally, and this perhaps is the biggest influence into my lacking desire to be considered an "evangelist," I have rarely seen evangelism, at least in it's traditional, culturally accepted form, done well.

 I have memories of being in seminary and having people hand out tracts in downtown Ft. Worth and telling me that my seminary education made me LESS of a Christian, I can remember people walking around with giant crosses slung over their shoulder, yelling at me to "repent" (again in Ft. Worth), and here in Oklahoma City there is a giant billboard on the side of one of our highways asking us the question, "If you die tonight: Heaven or Hell?" A week or two ago I found a Bible tract strategically placed on the toilet paper dispenser at Starbucks (really?).  Even on a more personal level, there have been plenty of times when, in the midst of the conversations with other Christians, the topic of religious beliefs came up, the message I have gotten over and over is that if I don't adhere to their particular flavor of Christianity, then I AM in fact, less of a Christian.

So as I think about how I may in fact hold the title for "World's Worst Evangelist," I realize that if I am being judged against some of the methods I just described, than I am perfectly okay with that title.  Because, you know what?  None of the above methods even come close to describing the path that I followed to get to a place in my life where I proclaim myself as a follower of Jesus. Never after hearing someone yell at me to "repent" have I been moved into a different direction, never after seeing a billboard or hearing a talking head on television talk to me about buying into their brand of "fire insurance" have I felt myself drawn closer to Jesus, and there isn't a pamphlet or tract that has ever (or ever will be) printed that will cause my spirit to connect with the Spirit of the Divine.

As a matter of fact, as I think about my own faith journey, I do not have the slightest clue who it was who first told me about Jesus.  Honestly, I have no idea who it was who "evangelized" me.   It might have been a minister, it might have been my parents or grandparents, I don't know. I do not have any recollection of my "salvation" moment or the time I "asked Jesus into my heart."  What I do know is that I have a very clear memory of all those throughout my life who have walked with me, shown me what it means to live like Jesus, and inspired me to go and do likewise.

To me, this is what evangelism is anyway.  Evangelism cannot be and thankfully is not "peddling" Jesus like we would vacuum cleaners or carpet cleaning services.  It is in fact, seeking to embody the life and lifestyle of Jesus.  It's doing our best to live in the manner he did and inspiring those around us to attempt to do likewise. Throughout the course of his ministry, Jesus never asked the question, "Are you a Jew?" or told those of a different belief system to change their understanding before he would join them on the journey. It did not matter if the one whom Jesus encountered was a Jew, a Samaritan, or even a Roman, He loved and served unconditionally, with grace, humility, compassion, and perhaps most importantly, respect.

The way of Jesus does not translate well to a billboard or a tract, but that's okay, it was never meant to. It won't sell many books or promote too many political campaigns (but imagine if it did).  The way of Jesus is meant to be embodied in and among all God's beautiful creation.  I am thankful to all those who have come into my life who have shown me The Way, not through words, but through a listening ear, a hug, a shoulder to cry on, and the demonstrated desire to walk with me on this journey.

This is the kind of evangelism in which I desire to engage.  And come to think of it, I'm not all that great at this kind, either.  But walking with, loving, respecting, and listening to my fellow human beings sounds like something I'd much prefer to continue to improve.

What If There Was A Different Way?

A new study has been released that offers new insight into the sleep habits of American teenagers. Brace yourself, this may shock you. They don't sleep enough. New research is out that gives as a fairly in-depth peek into the sleep habits of our students.

In this latest report, we are told, once again, that almost all of America's teens do not come anywhere close to getting the recommended nine to ten hours of sleep per night.  According to this study it is far more likely that a typical American teenager will get closer to five hours/night rather than the highly recommended nine or ten.  If my math is correct (which is no guarantee) that would mean that, assuming that most have to awake sometime between five and six o clock in order to get to school on time, on average, our students are finally drifting off to dreamland well after midnight and perhaps as late/early as one or two o clock in the morning.

While the statistics are interesting, they, for anyone who either has, was, or works with middle school and high school students, are not the least bit surprising, nor is this anything new.  I remember these same conversations taking place when I was in high school and as I remember my own sleep habits as a teenager, I was certainly on the five to six hours a night side of the scale. When it comes to teenagers getting an even somewhat adequate amount of rest each day, the struggle is real.  As I was reading this article, I found myself thinking about a conversations that I have had over the years with students, and I remember thinking, as they detailed to me how much homework and how many hours of extracurricular activities they had each day, "Gosh, when do you sleep?"  And as it turned out, they really didn't.  Of course, the causes for the sleep deprivation that exists among our students has been well documented and debated.  It seems that everyone has their own opinion about what needs to change in order for some semblance of balance is restored.  It's either school start times, the amount of homework that is assigned each day, the amount of hours required by band, choir, theater, and athletics, after (or before) school jobs, or maybe it is in fact the increased prevalence of technology in the bedroom of our teenagers.

The truth, of course, is somewhere in the middle.  It is a combination of these factors in addition to a variety of other variables that contributes to the seemingly constant sleepiness of our students.  No matter which way we slice it, teenagers are busy.  From the moment they wake to the moment they (eventually) go to sleep, they bounce from activity to activity and obligation to obligation. It hardly seems that for many, there is even enough time left in the day to eat, let alone rest.  So what place does the Church, and it's ministry to her students, have in the already jam packed lives of those same students that we have been called to serve?

On average, youth ministers and volunteer leaders get somewhere between three to six hours a week of "programmed" time with their students. Currently, at the church I serve I am blessed to have about four hours a week set aside for our youth ministry program. There is a temptation in those precious few hours we have to share together to pack as much in as we possibly can.  This, of course,is the continuing trend in our culture, and thus, in our attempt to "stay relevant," this is the continuing trend in youth ministry.  It seems only reasonable, after all, if we only have four hours a week to "bring kids to Jesus," then we better pack it all in, right?  The temptation is there for us to bounce from music to games, to Bible studies in quick succession, feeling like time (and attention spans) is at a premium.

This is an approach to ministry that I do not understand, and one that seems completely counter intuitive as we consider the already over programmed and exhausting lives so many of our students already lead.  Why does the Church, the place where all (students and adults alike) have traditionally come to seeking sanctuary and rest, have to resemble each and every other moment of our chaotic lives?  The short answer is, it does not.  Lest we forget that we come to Church on the Sabbath, the Holy day of rest.  Youth, how often do you leave your places of worship just as exhausted as you would leave your schools, rehearsal halls, or playing fields?  Adults, do you ever come to church just as (if not more) concerned about what you are responsible for that day as if you were headed off to work?  If you answered "yes" to these questions than that means we, as ministers, are doing you a disservice and that our congregations have lost sight of our original charge: to be a place of safe haven where a meeting between the Creator and Creation can be facilitated.

What if there was a different way?  What if there was a way of ministry that was not so much focused on "what we are going to do," but instead was focused on "how we are going to be?"  What if we were able to create safe, sacred space within the midst of our fundraisers, Bible studies, mission projects, and trips to the bowling alley, for rest, for silence, for intentional prayer, and for unstructured conversation that allows faith, life, and relationships to intersect in altogether beautiful and unexpected ways?  What if "Youth Group" (or whatever fancy name you have for your program) could once again be a place where we no longer hear how tired our students are, because we are giving them the space to rest and recover in the way that the need that night? What if, in short, our ministries became far less about program, and far more about presence?