As odd as it was for me, having grown up in the church, to not be baptized till I was almost 21… I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ll always look back at that day with a very sweet fondness.

I feel really vain posting these here but I feel like it’s the only substantial posting I have time for unfortunately.

Recently a friend asked me about my opinion on a nationally-known pastor whose been gaining popularity recently due to several TV appearances. Before I answered, I decided to just google his name and make sure I was up to date on what he’s been up to so I didn’t answer the question ignorantly.

When I did that, I stumbled upon this article by Steve Camp, which I found tremendously encouraging.

The gospel’s a beautiful thing when it’s really at work, isn’t it?

I know this sort of love is behind the times. I’m supposed to be more cautious, more jaded, more realistic.

And I have every reason to. I’ve had all the heart-breaks and bad times. You’ve beaten me down. You’ve betrayed me. You’ve demanded more commitment from me than I could offer. You’ve used me and left me tired and hollow.

Yet I don’t think I’m just some wounded victim of Stockholm Syndrome. I’m not burying my head in the sand. You’ve abused me, You’ve hurt me. But as much as I’ve tried, I just can’t change how I feel.

I’ve had older, more down-to-earth brothers tell me that I should forget you, that instead I should focus on Jesus. I’ve had ghoteed hipsters suggest the same, saying that love like mine is outdated and silly.

I’ve even been told that this sort of love is wrong. That it’s distracting me from what Christianity is all about. That the love I offer you and the hours I’m spending learning to serve you would be better invested elsewhere.

What’s more, I can’t pretend that you’re all that desireable. There’s plenty that’s unattractive about you, plenty that’s frustrating, plenty that’s unfaithful. Yet for all that, when I look on all your ugliness, my heart still thrills to a beauty I can’t see. I can’t show it to you, either, but I can’t deny it’s there.

I just can’t stop loving you, bride of Christ, whore that you are. And funny thing is, I don’t think Jesus can either.

Or if you were there, go listen to it again. It will do your soul good.

Eric, I’m proud of you and glad to call you brother.

“Evangelicalism would be better if it would admit and address its authority issue. Evangelicalism consists, to a large extent, of groups and individuals waving Bibles and shouting verses at one another. Evangelicals use terms like “Biblical Christianity” as if they could actually produce such a thing if asked. The assumption that our views are “based on the Bible” has produced a cacophony of contradictory, divisive and endless claims, counter-claims and wars. The evolution of evangelicalism seems destined to be toward the opposite poles of abandoning the concept of authority completely to the individual (usually the charismatic pastor) or creating an authoritarian hothouse where complete submission is obligatory to avoid exile or worse. Evangelicals have an authority problem. They will quite possibly never solve it as evangelicals, but they can make the situation considerably better by directly addressing the problems created in Protestantism and evangelicalism by our various approaches to authority and implementing serious measures to bring some coherence to the situation.”

Scripture is full of universal imperatives for all Christians - In Colossians Paul tells us our speech should be edifying. In Philippians he tells us to think upon what is pure. In James, we’re told not to show favortism. All of these are universal commands that all Christians ought to obey.

However, there are also individually-tailored callings to different people with different giftings in different contexts. God called Paul to be an apostle. He called Stephen to be a deacon. He called Luke to be a doctor and historian. In today’s evangelicalism, we have the same principle at work. God has called John Piper to the pastorate, he’s called my friend Abby to Africa, and he’s called the rest of his sheep to other areas, appropriate to their individual giftings and contexts.

The danger comes when we confuse callings for imperatives. Or even when we begin to think that the way I submit to biblical imperatives is the way everyone should submit to them. Yes, all Christians are called to generosity and mercy. No, not all Christians are called to serve in the third world or even in the currently-trendy world of “urban ministry.” Yes, all Christians are called to study the Scriptures. No, not all Christians are called to be teachers in the church. etc.

More seriously, I continue to wrestle with the question of what God is really “all about” in the world. While it gets masked behind other ideas, this is one of the fundamental disagreements within Christianity, and has been for much of its history. What’s more, it really matters. The way you answer that question makes all the difference in how you construct your theology.

Is God all about saving souls to eternal life? Is he about bringing political peace on earth? Is He all about His followers believing correct things? Doing correct things? Being part of correct institutions? Is He all about heaven, or all about earth? The church, or the world? Is he all about the poor? The influential? Is He all about cultural reform, or racial reconciliation, or world peace, or devotional commitment, or chastity outside marriage? Is He all about abortion, or social justice, or prayer in schools, or prophetically condemning civic involvement? Is He all about sin, or death, or brokenness?

I think the great danger for Christians is to seize on any one of these things as preeminent, as “what God’s all about.” They become champions, but only the old kind of champions. The kind who believe that the only way to get their cause advanced is to go to war against the people who are championing other causes. The church becomes a gladiatorial arena where the evangelist and the socially-concerned and the mystic all bludgeon each other with metaphysical flails and clubs.

The problem comes when we seize on the word “all” in the question. What God is “all” about, if we’re being biblical, would be something like “Redeeming and restoring the cosmos through Jesus Christ for His glory.” You might phrase it another way, but what will always be the case is that, if we’re keeping it true to the whole story of Scripture, the answer is necessarily going to be extremely broad. It’s when we make it more specific that the “all” will inevitably become a tool for sin and division.

God’s work in creation is huge - as big as creation itself, as broad as the taint of sin, as far as the curse is found. We have to see ourselves within this bigness. I’m not suggesting we move away from the specific things mentioned above, at least not most of them. Instead, I’m suggesting that we should answer “Yes, and…” to all of them.

What we need is a new kind of champion (I would be tempted to say a “new kind of Christian,” but I don’t want to encourage any of those other kind of champions to turn this blog into part of their arena). The sort of champion who sees himself as part of an army, a community, a body. Are you excited about evangelism, or social issues, or making beautiful art? Wonderful! Welcome to the cause. Be excited. But recognize that the passion you have is meant to build up the whole body. It’s so easy in the church to let a perceived competition for the time, money and affections of congregations drive us to attack another part of the body.

Thing is, we aren’t in a competition at all. God’s kingdom isn’t based on a zero-sum game where, if you never lose, I can never win. Instead, we need to see our callings as mutually beneficial. The church is enriched by having all of them. We need those called to teach, to give, to encourage, to show mercy. We’re supposed to have specific gifts. But they’re not what God is all about. We don’t have to make Him into a bigger version of our specific gift at the expense of others. He is the King, and we are His servants. We shouldn’t covet his affections. Instead, we should serve well where we are placed with the tools He has given us. And, when I’m raking the lawn and see my fellow servant painting the house or smell them cooking dinner, I should rejoice. After all, if they were all like me, all we’d end up with in the end is some piles of leaves and no house to live in.

Thus, I want to take some time thinking about what could actually change in the way we minister, especially to young people. I realize that I have no particular expertise with youth ministry, other than being a relatively young person myself. However, from that perspective, I’ve seen the mass exodus from the church first-hand, so I wanted to offer a plea on our behalf.

1. Give us the Gospel. This is by far the biggest one. While in youth group I learned a tremendous amount about how to fake the Christian walk for the sake of keeping up appearances. I learned how to beat myself up with guilt and use it to motivate obedience. I learned all of the “Christians-musts” - Christians must evangelize, Christians must memorize Scripture, Christians must argue with their science teachers, Christians must keep their hands off their girlfriends.

What I didn’t get was the gospel -  the fact that Jesus really loves me, unconditionally, and that all my debts have been paid through judgment day and beyond. As a consequence, when I failed at all of the Christians-musts (and believe me, I did), it was only by God’s intervention that I didn’t walk away. Heaven knows many of us did

The underlying problem is that Christians seem to think that ministry is about force-feeding spiritual materials to an individual until they reach a certain “point of maturity” at which they can walk on their own. This is well-intentioned, but I don’t think it actually works in practice. Maturity is slow and painful, and it primarily comes from gaining life experiences while living in the grace of God. Evangelicals need to give young people the gospel, the deep and peacemaking and world-shaking gospel, and make sure we understand it over and over. The other things will come as we walk the road with you.

2. Make us the Church. First of all (you know I have to say this), baptize us. Then teach us what it means to be a part of the church. Incorporate us into the life of the body. The main reason young people are leaving the church is because for most of our lives we were never in it.

Let me put it this way: We spend the first 12 years of their lives in children’s programs, the next 6 in separate youth programs, and then (if we haven’t left already) four more in some sort of college ministry, often with minimal church involvement. When we end up walking away from the church, it’s not a loss. We were never a part of it in the first place!

I’m not down on children’s or youth or college ministries. However, they should be secondary to membership in the actual church. We need to learn from a young age how to be an involved member of Christ’s body, to serve it, to live with the messiness and love the beauty. We are never meant to walk the road alone, and we are never meant live with “community” being our equally-young and equally-foolish peers. We need to be taught that we’re part of the church in every possible way so that when we’re older we can actually live as part of it.

3. Teach us the Word. I learned remarkably little about the bible from any sort of ministry, at least until I hit college. What worries me is that I also seemed to know decidedly more than most of my peers. Perhaps the biggest problem is that I consistently got the message that learning to understand the bible should result from my daily devotionals. My youth pastor/worker’s job was not to teach me, but to get me “radical” and “fired up” about my Christian walk.

This just doesn’t work. Teaching has an critical place in Scripture. What I find particularly worrying is how many of us young people not only fail to get this kind of bible teaching in their focused youth ministries, we are also pulled out of the corporate worship services on Suncays as well. I’m convinced that the fact that I sat under the expository preaching of the Bible on Sunday mornings was one of the graces that kept me from crashing and burning.

4. Value our Families. This is, I’m convinced, where the Lord showed me the most grace growing up. If it weren’t for my mother and father’s blatant refusal to buy the evangelical status quo and let me busy myself in isolated youth activities, I’d probably have been just another casualty before I was twenty.

Let me be blunt: too many of us were allowed for years to live in open rebellion against our parents while they are tacitly taught to stay out of our lives and entrust our spiritual growth to someone else (who is probably also a lot younger and knows us less). Those of us blessed with believing families need to be taught to live as a part of then. Those without need to be incorporated even more into the family life of the whole church. Trying to teach young people to evangelize and be chaste while all-but-encouraging our familial disobedience is a recipe for disaster.

*****

I could go on, but I think I’ve probably already overstated my case. Here’s what it boils down to: young people need to be treated like Christians. This means they need grace, they need correction, and they need the church. We can pile on programs and ministries and outreaches, but when we don’t have the simply fare of Christianity - when we don’t have the bread and the wine - we shouldn’t be surprised that people are starving.