Worth Breaking the Silence 11:51 AM

HT

The church in America is puzzled. Young adults are leaving in droves. Magazines, books and blogs are wagging the finger of blame to point out who is responsible. Some say it is a failure of youth ministry, some point to church budgets and some nail the blame on outdated, unhip worship services. We parents are shocked that our kids just really aren’t all that into Jesus.

When I look for someone to blame I head into the restroom and look into a mirror. Yupp, there he is. I blame him. That parent looking back at me is where I have to start.

If you’re a parent, I’m might tick you off in this post. But, hear me out. I think that we, as parents are guilty of some things that make it easy for our kids to put faith low on their priority list.

Keys to Making Your Kids Apathetic About Faith

1) Put academic pursuits above faith-building activities. Encourage your child to put everything else aside for academic gain. Afterall, when they are 24 and not interested in faith and following Christ, you’ll still be thrilled that they got an A in pre-calculus, right? Instead of teaching them balance, teach them that all else comes second to academics. Quick … who graduated in the top 5 of your high school class? Unless you were one of them, I bet you have no idea. I don’t.

2) Chase the gold ball first and foremost. Afterall, your child is a star. Drive 400 miles so your child can play hockey but refuse to take them to a home group bible study because it’s 20 minutes away.

2b) Buy into the “select,” “elite,” “premier” titles for leagues that play outside of the school season and take pride in your kid wearing the label. Hey now, he’s an All-Star! No one would pay $1000 for their kid to join, “Bunch-of-kids-paying-to-play Team.” But, “Elite?!?” Boy, howdy! That’s the big time!

2c) Believe the school coach who tells you that your kid won’t play if he doesn’t play in the offseason. The truth is, if your kid really is a star, he could go to Disney for the first week of the season and come back and start for his school team. The determined coach might make him sit a whole game to teach him a lesson. But, trust me, if Julie can shoot the rock for 20 points a game, she’s in the lineup. I remember a stellar soccer athlete who played with my son in high school. Chris missed the entire preseason because of winning a national baseball championship. With no workouts, no double sessions, his first day back with the soccer team, he started and scored two goals. Several hard-working “premier” players sat on the bench and watched him do it. (Chris never played soccer outside the school season but was a perpetual district all-star selection.) The hard reality is, if your kid is not a star, an average of 3 new stars a year will play varsity as freshmen. That means there’s always 12 kids who are the top prospects. Swallow hard and encourage your kid to improve but be careful what you sacrifice to make him a star at little Podunk High here in Maine.

2d) By the way, just because your kid got a letter inviting him to attend a baseball camp in West Virginia does not mean he is being recruited. You’ll know when recruiting happens. Coaches start calling as regularly as telemarketers, they send your kid handwritten notes and they often bypass you to talk to your kid. A letter with a printed label from an athletic department is not recruitment. When a coach shows up to watch your kid play and then talks to you and your kid, that’s recruiting.

3) Teach your kid that the dollar is almighty. I see it all the time. Faith activities fly out the window when students say, “I’d like to, but I have to work.” Parents think jobs teach responsibility when, in reality, most students are merely accumulating wealth to buy the things they want. Our kids learn that faith activities should be put aside for the “responsibility” of holding a job. They will never again get to spend 100% of their paychecks on the stuff they want.

3b) Make them pay outright for faith activities like youth retreats and faith community activities while you support their sports, music, drama and endeavors with checks for camps and “select” groups and expensive equipment. This sends a loud and clear message of what you really want to see them involved in and what you value most. Complain loudly about how expensive a three-day youth event is but then don’t bat an eye when you pay four times that for a three-day sports camp.

4) Refuse to acknowledge that the primary motivating force in kids’ lives is relationship. Connections with others is what drives kids to be involved. It’s the reason that peer pressure is such a big deal in adolescence. Sending kids to bible classes and lectures is almost entirely ineffective apart from relationship and friendships that help them process what they learn. As kids share faith experiences like retreats, mission trips and student ministry fun, they build common bonds with one another that work as a glue to Christian community. In fact, a strong argument can be made that faith is designed to be lived in community with other believers. By doing all you can to keep your kids from experiencing the bonds of love in a Christian community, you help insure that they can easily walk away without feeling like they are missing anything. Kids build friendships with the kids they spend time with.

5) Model apathy in your own life. If following Jesus is only about sitting in a church service once a week and going to meetings, young adults opt out. Teenagers and young adults are looking for things that are worth their time. Authentic, genuine, relevant relationships where people are growing in relationship with Jesus is appealing. Meaningless duty and ritual holds no attraction.

There are no guarantees that your children will follow Christ even if you have a vibrant, purposeful relationship with Him. But, on the other hand, if we, as parents do not do all we can to help our children develop meaningful relationships in Jesus, we miss a major opportunity to lead them and show them the path worth walking.

I want my kids to see that their dad follows Jesus with everything. I want them to know that my greatest hope for them is that they follow Him too.

Mt. 6:33 Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met. (The Message)

Big Brotherhood 7:26 PM

Stockton is adjusting well to being a big brother.

My Hero 12:26 PM

The Utah Jazz recently honored their former, now-deceased, owner. John Stockton had this to say.




Nothing earth-shaking or mind-blowing, just good to see and hear my hero again. Looks like he is finally starting to age. I should make my move to stalk...er...see him soon.

Album of the Year 5:12 PM

My Girl 9:12 PM

Boys beware.

Labor Day 10:43 PM

I had an appointment to meet my daughter (my daughter?!) today, but she decided to hang out (literally - it looks like Dana is attempting to steal a fitness orb). Baby girl's hanging out may mean her personality more matches her dad's. Stockton came 2 weeks early and is very clear in his desires and instructions. (I will let you make the connection:) ).

She will come soon, and there will be the same anxious-nervous-excited-sleepless smoothie that comes with newborns. We will tiptoe around the house to let her sleep, make sure everyone has washed their hands before touching her, and keep plenty of wipes handy for the baby-girl-blowout. We will help Stockton make the fourth major transition in a less than three months (potty, big boy bed, glasses, baby sister), and we will be exhausted.

I hope she comes on Easter.

Spectacles 9:11 PM

Dana's baby blues are unbelievable. I prayed hard that Stockton would inherit the stone-cold stunners and, for the most part, he did....except the part he uses to see. Specifically, the corneas are quality, but the lenses are lame.

We discovered this two weeks ago when his right eye began to periodically look inward. Forty-eight nerve-racking hours later, Stockton saw an ophthalmologist who diagnosed him with the Google-inducing condition of accomodative esotropia. Spell check is telling me there is no such thing, and three weeks ago I would have believed it, but a heartbreaking scene where Stockton struggled to see convinced me.

The good news: Stockton loves his glasses, getting upset when we have to "put them to sleep" for bedtime or take them off for a bath. His eye seems to be crossing less, and his sky-blue glasses are kind of cool. His words to one of his teachers: "These are my glasses. They help me see."

How to Make Money in Your Spare Time 2:28 PM

I've discovered fatherhood can be expensive. I need to read this book.

Father / Daughter Day 12:50 AM

For the second weekend this year, I served as referee of several Upward basketball games.

I know I missed several calls today.

A man towered over the baseline. I could not take my eyes off of him. He was demonstrative, sometimes overly so, and his muted-histrionics focused on one particular girl. His daughter.

The demonstrations were not ones of anger or disgust or frustration. Each movement was punctuated with a smile and either a palms-down push, (pre-tainted) Tiger Woods fist pump, or the classic coach double clap.

But the man was not a coach – he was just a father. A father who caught his daughter’s eye with every trip down the court and directed her where to go and what to do – through sign language.

I recently saw Babel, which tells the story of six interlocked characters from across the globe. One of the characters is a deaf girl, and one of the most jarring scenes is her going to a nightclub; able to see the lights and the moving people, but unable to hear the rhythm they are bouncing to.

Unable to hear the coach, the other girls, or even the referees, the girl looked to her father. The father wholly and lovingly obliged, never missing a chance to encourage. Without saying a word, he loved her.

I hope when my baby girl gets here, she sees me running the baseline, catching her eye, encouraging her, and painting for her a picture of kingdom-love without uttering a syllable. I hope I learn to speak her language.

(I also hope she plays basketball.)

Canada's Last Laugh 10:58 AM

Taken after Canada's Olympic preliminary loss to the United States.



Pictured: Harsh reality.

Lenten Learning 1:26 PM

For a week now, I have been without the upholder of un-unproductivity, Facebook. Prior to Lent, I was challenged by a few of my students who decided to give up Facebook for Lent. I took on the challenge and spread it around my group – and there are 30 of us leaving out logging in for 40 days.

There has been, however, a disconnect from the purpose of disconnecting. The tension between wallowing in destruction (woe is me, I miss my friends, I wish I could make this my status) and allowing for re-construction (how can I use this time wisely) is ever-present.

The discovery has been in this tension in my own life. Am I de-constructing or re-constructing? Living into cynicism or creativity? Hate or hope?

Sweet Music 11:34 AM

The first rule of streaks: you don't talk about streaks! At the risk of messing up the mojo, the following presentation is a Utah Jazz work of art. Why do I watch the NBA? Why do I like the Jazz? I submit exhibits "a" and "b".

Pink'd 9:44 PM

There is a uniqueness in youth ministry. The ability to walk the line between adult and youth, to speak with and be heard by both groups. Also, the ability to hold multiple cell phones in your pockets, and remember to return them to their respective owners.

The most unique element of youth ministry? Pranks. Pranks that walk the line between "big enough so you notice" but "small enough so you still love them at the end." After much trash talk, some of my senior high girls have perpetrated the prank to top all pranks - painting some of my office PINK.

They kindly posted the evidence on Facebook.







The bottom picture represents what my desk usually looks like (minus the large purse). My friends were kind enough to put everything back the way it was. They were also kind enough to paint the wall a shade that I struggle with. Thus, the wall looks gray - and therefore great - to me.

Thrill-Gotten Gaines 10:01 PM

An un-drafted rookie, signed to a 10-day contract (NBA lingo for "fill-in for our injured better player") puts a nylon nightcap on the Cavaliers / Jazz game. The Jazz have largely been a turn-off this season, but this is worth your four minutes.

Stocky Snow Day 10:58 AM

Here's my boy. Sadly, the picture of our foot-high snowman was a victim of the frigid, frosty lens.

A 10 for creativity... 8:17 PM

A zero for everything else.

Perfect 10 11:11 PM

“The Nils”, “The Aughts”, or the Two-Thousand-Zero-Zeroes. The beginning of the decade found me at a low-key gathering with high school friends, trying to determine whether to simply take someone’s keys or trust their promise not to drive. The end found me curled under the comforter with a pregnant-with-baby-number-two wife. The single digits started with seven friends trying to squeeze the magic out of six more months and ended with a completely different kind of magic sleeping in the adjoining room (and kicking in the womb.

The Nils were more concrete slab than jungle gym – setting the foundation for (without hyperbole I think) the rest of my life. The double-O’s contained not just college and seminary, but wife and child(ren); not just bachelors, but masters; not just job, but calling; not just status quo but status whoa (ladies and gentlemen, the lamest pun in history).

Looking back, the decade is a dunk-from-the-free-throw-line ten. Observe the same massive leap in pictures.


Then:


Now:

The Awkward Convo 9:33 PM

A conversation I would have if I awkwardly encountered my ignored blog in the organic aisle of Kroger.

Hey. I haven’t been ignoring you, I promise. I’ve been head-spinning, pants-wetting busy. I still love you. My friends will tell you that I haven’t called them either. My mom and dad will DEFINITELY tell you that I haven’t called.

For 6 straight weekends spread across October and November, I was out of town. Yes, I could have called. I could have written. I could have told you about the amazing Junior and Senior High Retreat, perma-frost football, Glee-king out with my favorite new show, about falling more in love with my boy, the high quality books I’ve been reading, my thoughts in inching closer to 30, or (most recently) my time with one of my youth ministry heroes.

But Dana has been sick (for like a month) with fatigue-inducing sinus infection on top of a fatigue-inducing (but tremendously handsome, awesome, and excited about “kissmas”) little boy.

So, at the risk of sounding lame…I’ll be back. .

King Quote 10:59 PM

In the twilight of their careers (if there ever was such a thing), Stockton and Malone's coming-down-mountain Jazz met the trekking-up-the-hill Sacramento Kings in several epic battles. The comparative color schemes contrasted with the on-court style - chest-passing Stockton against no-looking turnover "White Chocolate" Jason Williams; "Crybaby" (my nickname) Chris Webber vs. Stoic Karl Malone; White and Pasty Greg Ostertag vs. "The Terrorist" (FBI search warning!) Vlade Divac. Divac in particular had mastered drawing the offensive foul and looking like every bad guy in every single 80s military themed movie. "Pack a Day" Divac always looked like he had just wired explosives to a bus and demanded 5 million dollars.

But underneath the permanent five o'clock shadow, Divac is a class act. With regards to never winning a championship (like Stockton and Malone), Divac said this.

"People here [in America] are making a big deal about ring or no ring. I was playing against the Lakers and I remember someone [in the crowd] shouted, 'How many rings you got?' I told him one. He looked at me [funny], so I said, 'I got one in '89 when I got married, I got a ring from my wife.' That's the most important thing."

My next child will still not be named "Vlade."

A Father's Confessions 10:13 PM

After my boy goes to sleep, there is a void in my house and heart. There are no heavy feet "hopping", no fat cheeks to kiss, no little stout torso to tackle you when you aren't looking, and no sweet voice calling out a favorite Thomas the Tank Engine (Toby, which sounds more like "Oby!").

Sometimes, the hole in my heart is too much, so I tiptoe around the "choo-choos", put my chin on his crib, and gaze at my no-longer-baby boy. He lays there with stretched-neck under-stuffed kitty in one hand, Toby in the other, blanket ("hanket"), stuffed basketball ("beebaw!"), and Elmo ("Melmo") all kicked to the side.

I wonder how often my Father tiptoes around my toys and puts his chin on the side of my bed?

In about ten hours, we will be awakened by some combination of "My Mommy!" "My Daddy!" "Out!" and "Poo Poo!" I will go to him, place my hands under his outstretched arms and say, "Good Morning, my son."