Confirmation Quiet Time, Part Two

So, a long overdue update on how “quiet time” in confirmation went: Overall, it went really well.  It was definitely something different for the kids, that took a lot of getting used to.  In the beginning, they really didn’t like the “rules” part of it – the “no, you really have to be quiet, and not talking, and not moving around.”  The first time, I made the mistake of letting them sit/lay near friends, so long as they were quiet. Well, proximity breeds noise and activity, so…yeah, that didn’t work so much. 

The first time we did this, I gave them 20 minutes, and it was 15-18 before they really got all of the giggles out - longer than I expected.  Then I brought them back to the chancel, and we talked – one by one, I had each kid share his or her experience – what they liked, didn’t like, etc.  The kids who are “busiest” – who have the most jam-packed schedules with sports, etc had been going crazy.  They were “bored” without something to “do.”  The ones who are least busy – but still busy – had almost immediately fallen asleep, and they talked about how great it was just to have a few minutes of down-time.  Those three sleepers then turned to the group of giggliest girls and announced that it was really hard because “people” were talking and whispering and laughing…ahem.  Then we had a conversation about the Sabbath and its purpose, and about how each of us needs rest – rest for the sake of rest.  Not a painful, tortuous rest that involves sitting on your hands and biting your tongue, but an actual relaxing “rest”.  We talked about  “hearing God,” and they allowed that constant busyness, constant talking and moving and doing could probably prevent us from hearing God.  In the end, the 2-3 who were most opposed to this from the get-go offered – entirely on their own – that we could do this every week as long as we did the actual class stuff first.  

I’ll take that as a win.

We only had two weeks of class left at that point, but we repeated the exercise each time.  The kids agreed that they liked it, and that they felt it was important.  But what surprised me – what I absolutely didn’t expect – was that parents communicated to me how much their kids liked it, and some even asked, somewhat jokingly, if they could join us. 

So, I’m thinking…next year confirmation class will be over the Small Catechism.  I’ve decreed that parents must attend with their kids, and I’m working on getting other adults to join us as well – doing kind of a cross-generational confirmation.  I can’t decide if I should go with actual silent time before class, or having us all pray Vespers together before we dig in.  I really like the idea of Vespers, but the quiet time thing was such a success…thoughts, anyone? 

Rest For Bodies and Souls

So, last week in confirmation class, we were going around the room doing “kyries and alleluias” (highs and lows) and it occurred to me that a goodly number of the kids in my class seem to actually hate school.  Just in general.  They hate their classes, they hate the books, they hate the subject material, they hate their teachers, they hate that they have homework, they hate that they have tests, and on down the line.  A good number of them even hate the organized sports that they choose to play!!  

I started pondering, as they were talking…and I noticed that the ones who most hate school also most love gym class…

And then I asked every single kid when the last day was that he or she had “nothing to do” – no plans on the calendar, no place they had to be, no homework, no sports practice, nothing. 

And the ones who most hate school, and most love gym class, were also most likely to tell me that they simply couldn’t remember the last day they didn’t have anything to do. 

Conversely, the kids with the least jam-packed extracurricular schedules seem to like school more, and were more able to identify their last “day off”.  

Now these kids – all of them – are smart, good kids.  When they are focused, they can laser in on some awesome stuff (once, one of them called me out on saying “God” when I mean “Father” or “First Person of the Trinity” because it sounds like I’m saying Jesus isn’t God).  So it’s always been a mystery to me why they are so opposed to school and to learning, and why they are just so…restless…all the time.  

But that evening, the whole thing hit me like a ton of bricks.  They hate school because it is one more place they “have to be”.  They hate homework because it is one more thing they have to “do”.  They hate teachers because they are each one more person who “expects performance”.  They hate the sports because even though they enjoy them at some level, they don’t ever play for fun, they only ever play to win.  Or the sports that they actually do not enjoy at all, they play because “everyone else does” and everyone else “expects” them to do so, as well.  And I think the thing about gym class is that it’s very low pressure.  It’s activities they enjoy, without a teacher grading them or a coach challenging them to better.  It’s a relaxed environment, with no pressure.  

And so I tried an experiment.  We blazed through the lesson, hitting the high points, and then, I told them to be quiet, to put everything – books, papers, pencils, bags, capri sun packages – everything down.  Put it all down, and we are going to rest.  We are going to rest, and relax, and have quiet time for 3 minutes. 

Three minutes was not nearly as much rest as I needed, but I sat on the floor, watching the clock, and praying for these kids.  They, however, were fidgety as all get out.  Constantly changing position on the couch/chair/floor, sighing, tapping their feet, looking at the clock.  Now, I know that three minutes is not enough time to truly get in the relaxation “zone” – but this whole experiment was telling for me.  When a person is exhausted – just done, burned out, no more gas in the tank – 3 minutes of quiet is glorious.  When you’re that tired, you know exactly what to do with 3 minutes of quiet, and it goes by in the blink of an eye.  When a person has no idea how to just. stop. for 3 minutes, that 3 minutes feels like an eternity.  Which is exactly the feedback I got.  When I finally called time, what I heard was, “That wasn’t 3 minutes!  That was 30 minutes!!!”  No, honey, it was 3 minutes.  I promise.  And so I responded, “You guys just don’t know how to relax,” to which they replied, “Of course we don’t know how to relax!  We never get to!  There’s no time to relax!”  

Wow.  Okay then.  

These kids are so far beyond "tired" that we'd have to peel back several layers to even get to "exhausted."  Which leads to me to wonder if perhaps the greatest faith-gift we could give our “youth” is the gift of rest.  My kids don't harbor objective hostility toward “church”, God, confirmation, the Bible, etc – at least no more than any of the rest of us poor in curvatus se souls do.  But when “confirmation class” and “memory work” and “going to church” and “taking sermon notes” and “doing service projects” and even “fun” events like bowling or pizza that they are “expected” to do and attend and “take seriously” and “put effort into”, then the more turned off they are likely to become, just as they are about school, and even the sports they claim to enjoy.  

How many of the so-called Biblical heroes heard from God in their sleep?  Off the top of my head, I can think of: Abraham, Jacob, Joseph, Samuel, Elijah, and NT Joseph.  Even Jesus took time to get away and rest.  Are we stunting our kids’ spiritual growth (and by extension, our own) because they have no downtime, no ability to relax, no way to hear God in the quiet and still – because there is no quiet and still in their lives, and even if there was, they wouldn’t know what to do with it?  

My plan for this week is to start in our normal classroom with kyries and alleluias, followed by devotions, as we always do.  Then I’m going to take them into the dimly lit sanctuary, and give them time to relax.  The only rules will be “no talking”, and “no touching or otherwise disrupting other people”.  They can sit, kneel, lay, stand, on the pews or on the floor.  They can read (Bible or hymnal), they can sleep, they can pray, they can just be there quietly with their thoughts.  

I want to give them 20-30 minutes.  My thought is, they’ll be stir-crazy for the first 10, and after that, they may be able to settle down a little.  Then I’ll bring them all back to the chancel to talk about the experience. 

And then I guess we’ll see what happens.  It’s an experiment, and it may fail, but it doesn’t strike me as a foolish idea.  What if we made it a goal to teach our kids that “here” – church, the Body of Christ, Christ Himself – you will find rest for your souls, and for your bodies?  If that was their “takeaway” from “youth ministry,” their heart-knowledge about Jesus, that He’s the one who gives them rest when they are tired and weary, well, I’d put that one in the win column.  

What do you all think?  Am I crazy?  Is this going to just not work?  Or am I maybe on to something?  Feedback, please!

Kicking the Tires of Confirmation

I love – love – teaching confirmation.  Aside from typical middle school stuff – boys who haven’t learned to settle down and stop poking each other, girls who huddle in the bathroom mocking/liking the boys, the occasional forgotten assignment or lost Small Catechism, I’d put these kiddos up against almost any other confirmation class in the country.  When they decide to be thoughtful and attentive, they really are. They can condemn heresy (“Who’d want to be a Zwinglian? Is means is!”) or tell you about righteousness (“believing God not being good”), they ask great, mostly-on-topic questions, and on the whole, they are really just fabulous.  

I love teaching this age, because they’re actually hungry to learn – because it’s me in the classroom with 6 or 8 or 10 of them, and sometimes, once in a while, we have a moment where something just “clicks” for someone, and you can see it.  Their eyes light up, and there’s a second of recognition that this stuff is really real, and it’s really cool.  

I love confirmation because the kids care about one another.  Sure, there’s the requisite teasing and silliness, but at the end of the night, they’ll remember what was said an hour ago, and pray for one another.  They’re great.  

But I still feel like we’re missing something.  I expend a lot of energy trying to tell parents (and kids) that confirmation is not, not, NOT about checking items off a to-do list, or earning enough points to “graduate”.  Confirmation is not a sacrament, and being confirmed, or not, doesn’t make you a Christian, or not.  I try to plan the whole curriculum, and teach each class, around the idea that confirmation is about growing closer to God, about being able to say “yes” to the faith that they’ve been raised in, to “get it” in some perhaps small, but at least somewhat meaningful, way.  Which is why I still have “requirements”.  Even though confirmation isn’t about earning the right to graduate, I’m pretty comfortable saying that if kids aren’t in worship, if they aren’t learning – and practicing – how to pay attention in worship, if they aren’t figuring out how to lead devotions for the group, or taking time to love their neighbors, if they aren’t reflecting on what they’ve learned in class or worship, then it’s going to be pretty darn hard to have a substantial relationship with God.  We believe in a God who is incarnational – a God who came down here to earth and was a real, honest-to-goodness human being.  Who did and said certain specific things.  Who calls us into a relationship with him on the basis of his sacrifice, but who deepens and sustains that relationship over time by engagement with the means of grace, by a desire to “read, mark, and inwardly digest” his Word, by living as a follower and disciple of that God.  

This is what I want my kids to get.  This is what I want them to know.  This is the life I want them to have, even though none of us do it perfectly, and none of us is without sin.  I want them to know that forgiveness of sins, life, and salvation is for real – those promises at their baptism really did “take”, but that there’s more to it than that – or that there can be, if they’re interested, if they’re willing to take seriously the invitation to “draw near to God, and he will draw near to you.” (James 4:8)  But that’s a really big thing.  A really. big. thing.  I am asking them to try to wrap their hearts and minds and arms around a salvation, and an entire way of living, that is way bigger than them, and is unlike anything they have ever encountered.  And often, I am the only one nudging them in this direction.  

In common Lutheran parlance, confirmation is about “affirming your baptism”, “taking over” the faith your parents placed you into at baptism, “becoming a true adult member of the church”, and other such statements, that are meant, it seems, to make kids feel like confirmation is important and make old people feel like all is not lost and young kids today do still believe in Jesus.  

But there are two problems I see with this, the first being that many of them have no real faith to “take over” or “take charge of” from their parents.  Without being too blunt, a good number of children baptized in Lutheran churches today are brought to the font by parents who love them, and who have a vague sense of wanting them to be “good Christian kids who are nice and go to heaven.”  They bring their kids to church.  Sometimes.  On weekends when there’s not a hockey tournament out-of-town, and the weather’s not too bad, or we didn’t stay out too late at somebody’s wedding reception.  They teach their kids the Lord’s Prayer.  Possibly.  Sort of.  Most nights.  But the Creed? The Ten Commandments? Isn’t that what confirmation class is for?  By my reckoning, if I spend an hour per week in class with the kids, for two (school) years, I have spent 72 hours with them.  That's three days.  Three days may have raised Jesus from the dead, but I can no more teach 8th-graders to grasp the beauty and richness of the Christian faith in 72 hours than I can instill in them a love for Shakespeare in 72 hours.   

If “church” is an "extracurricular activity" in a child’s own home – then asking them to “take on the faith for themselves” after 2 years of confirmation class is like hoping they’ll one day decorate their spare bedroom the way mom did hers.  They might – if they happen to have similar taste to their mother, and a similar budget, and it reminds them of their mom and makes them feel warm and fuzzy inside.  Or they might not, you know, because they’re different people.  The vast majority of kids who play on hockey or dance teams will not play in college, and certainly not at the professional level.  If church is no more or less important in a family than hockey or dance, don’t be surprised when it falls by the wayside in college, just like other extracurricular activities.  So, to recap – we say we’re asking kids to “affirm their baptism” and “take on their faith”, but in reality, we are – not always, but mostly – starting from scratch and attempting to convert little baptized pagans.  

Second, we ask kids on their confirmation day, to be “adults in the faith,” or some such thing.  But at the age that most children are confirmed (13-15), they are not adults in any meaningful sense in any other area of their lives.  These are kids who still rely on their parents for transportation to the confirmation service itself.  They don’t pay their own cell phone bill, or buy their own food or clothing.  They are overwhelmed at the thought of having to pick a college and career in just a few years, and most of them cannot articulate with any degree of certainty more than the vaguest sense of what they’d like their life to turn out like.  They don’t do their own laundry, and the vast majority of them, in reasonably functional homes, are well aware that mom and dad are there to pick them up when they fall…or forget homework at home…or need money for that new cheer uniform…or forget to walk the dog…or lock themselves out of the house…or….  Not that this is not a bad thing.  We are talking about kids who are 14 years old.  This is not the olden days where marriage and kids and jobs and full-on adulthood is right around the corner.  But if they don’t do their own laundry or pack their own lunch or call their own locksmith, is it really fair to hand their faith over to them and say, “here you go!” ??  

Not that faith isn’t important.  Of course it is. It’s the most important thing.  Without a doubt.  But doesn’t that mean that we should give kids more support, not less?  Doesn’t it mean we should hold their hand a little longer?  Surround them with strong parental and community “raising in the faith” until later in life?  If you don’t learn how to do laundry before you go to college, you’ll figure it out quick when the bills for new clothes start piling up, or no one wants to hang out with you because your clothes all smell like dirty laundry.  But if you haven’t grasped hold of Christ’s promises, if you don’t really know where to turn when tough stuff happens – well, the situation might devolve more slowly than a laundry crisis, but it’s long-lasting impacts will be far, far worse, and likely far more difficult to correct.  

One of the problems in western society (and this is a whole other topic, so I’ll not dive into it too deeply) is that we largely lack “coming of age” rituals.  The biologic machinations of puberty or the attaining of a particular age used to be cause for celebration, for “entry into adulthood”; now they are a source of shame and embarrassment or wild expensive parties that rival weddings.  We haven’t the slightest idea how to teach our kids to be adults out in the real world – certainly not at the tender age of 14 – and so we settle for telling them that they’re a “real Christian, now” while ceding them zero control over anything else in their lives. 

Obviously there is way more to this than can be fixed in a day, in a year, in a single confirmation class at a single congregation.  There are huge cultural shifts at stake here, and patience, fortitude, and faithfulness is required on the part of parents, pastors, and churches.  But I wonder if we need to start by decoupling confirmation from middle/high school, and perhaps from a formal-program-ending-in-a-special-ceremony altogether.  What if we took all the resources – money, time, people – that we spend on a group of kids who haven’t even fully developed the executive processing functions of their brains – and transferred it to campus ministry, or young adult “programming”?  What if instead of thinking that kids who can’t even drive themselves to church on Sunday morning can honestly pledge to “decide for themselves to be faithful Christians and really believe this stuff and do it and possibly even die for it”, what if instead of that, we let kids be kids – taught them the basics of the faith – the Bible, the Catechism, etc – with no “end goal” besides the promises of God’s Kingdom in sight.  What if we, slowly, over time, taught them what it means to take faith seriously, how to integrate it into their lives, as their lives change?  What if we re-church-ified marriage prep, and spent as much time with soon-to-be high school or college grads as we do with pre-marital couples?

What if we stopped pressuring kids to “be adults” about their religious/theological/philosophical commitments and convictions when most of their own parents don’t even have that nailed down? 

Obviously I don’t have all the answers.  I mostly don’t even know where to start.  But these are just a few of the things I’ve been kicking around lately, and I’d love to hear thoughts from others, even as we pray, “Lord, may everything we do begin with your inspiration, continue with your help, and reach perfection under your guidance. We ask through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

Life Update

It's 9:00 on December 23rd, and I'm bored, so I thought I'd update all 6 of you on life in South Dakota...

Running: Going awesome.  Just finished Week 2 in Couch-to-5K.  I decided to do two of each weekly plan, rather than pushing it super hard.  I'm getting a lot of flak from the Couch-to-5K Facebook page, who are basically all telling just to keep moving, but a) I'm a serious couch potato, and b) running with a prosthesis means that I'm already expending 2x the energy of the "normal" runner...also, since I don't have a "running" leg (the carbon fiber blades you see Oscar Pistorius and his gang run with), that doesn't help the situation at all.  So I'm taking it a little slow, but it's winter in SD, and 18 weeks instead of 9 still barely gets me to the 5K season up here...  Anyways, it feels great.  I've had to hit the treadmill the last couple weeks, since it's been solid ice on the sidewalks around town.  I can figure out how to handle the cold, but I'm not too keen on the prospect of falling flat on my face...  For some reason my shin splints and general knee pain are worse on the treadmill (???) than on the concrete...who's ready for the ice to melt?  Also, this week was Day 1 of TOM, and holy cow did I get nailed...Tuesday was my first day of Week 2 - it was tough, but I made it through. Thursday was my 2nd day of Week 2, and Day 1 of AF, and criminy I thought I was going to die.  I seriously only made it about 75% through the workout - I just had no energy.  Which was strange because was one of those months where I actually felt reasonably decent, as opposed to some months where it's 4:00 pm before I can even think about getting up off the couch...  So, TMI for all y'all, but then I ran again this afternoon after church (had Anytime Fitness all to myself  = awesome), made it through and it felt great.  Again, a tough workout, but a good one.  Yay!

Church: Pretty good, all things considered. We have lots of work too, mainly involving a shift in focus from survival/maintenance mode to growth/outreach mode.  The real issue, I think, is that there's a belief (or a want-to-believe) that this is basically the 1940s, everybody pretty much goes to church, and the way to grow the church is to have a pastor that makes people want to come to this church instead of the church down the street.  Don't get me wrong - I think this is probably the situation that a lot of churches are finding themselves in, and so we're not alone.  But I'm excited about the task ahead, which is preaching the idea that we're not in a Christian, or even a post-Christian era.  I'm starting to think that we're really in a pre-Christian era - people haven't heard the story and rejected it, they've never heard it in the first place.  The way to grow the church is not "be the coolest church around", but preach God's love and mercy and salvation, and have members that are on fire and ready to tell the good news - not that their church is cool, but that Jesus is infinitely amazing and is the only thing that has the power to resurrect the dead - whatever "dead" looks like in your life.  It's a huge mental shift for people who aren't used to thinking along those lines, and it'll come with time, I believe, so I'm not particularly frustrated or concerned - it was a huge mental shift for me the first time I encountered this approach to ministry.  The good news, though, is that the people are awesome.  It's just a really great congregation, that loves, and that has so many gifts, and is just waiting to burst forth, so let's go.

Confirmation: I just love teaching confirmation.  It was my favorite part of internship, it's my favorite part of ordained ministry.  These kids are just fantastic - I love giving them freedom to ask lots of questions.  Sometimes they're on topic, and sometimes not-so-much, but they get me and I get them.  We're having fun, and they seem to be learning.  What I want them to get out of confirmation is not to be perfect-little-Lutherans, but faithful, growing Christians who get it.  We're tossing out the memorize-every-word-of-the-Small-Catechism in favor of memorizing the Creed, the Lord's Prayer, and the Ten Commandments + 3 Bible verses that they choose.  I want them to have a faith that is meaningful to them.  So this year we're doing a little freelance-ish Youth Alpha and the Small Catechism (the whole thing, not just what I'm making them memorize).  This summer at camp, we'll do worship (why do we structure worship the way we do?), and next year they'll do a Bible overview - The Story, maybe, or something similar.   They're just really fantastic kids who are trying to get it, and learning how to think about and talk about God, and it's so much fun to watch!

Life in a Small Town: It's alright.  I like my town - it's actually a really good size - small enough to feel cozy, but big enough to have a grocery store and gym and Wal-Mart and furniture store and several churches and some fast food...The congregation has been pretty welcoming - I went to my grandparents' for Thanksgiving, but I'm having Christmas Eve dinner with a couple from the call committee.  The ladies made me a quilt for my installation today, which is absolutely gorgeous, and I just love to pieces.  But I'd also be lying if I said that I'm not lonely.  There really aren't many people here who are my age, and the ones who are, are all married-with-kids.  Most nights I come home and chill in front of the TV or Netflix.  I just don't have much in the way of friends, which is why I drive to Sioux Falls on a fairly regular basis to see friends from school, or just find random things to do - like Christmas at the Capitol.  Honestly, it's really hard to be single.  I can "offer it up" all I want, or try to see it as part of "suffering for the Kingdom" or whatever, but it still just really stings doing Christmas completely alone.  And it's harder having all my married friends say, "Of course it's sad that you can't see your parents, but you just start your own traditions!"  Well...that's easy to say if you come home from Christmas Eve worship and your wife and kids are there.  Or if the "new tradition" is that you put off opening presents until after Christmas Day worship that Mommy has to preach at.  When your holidays are you, and only you, it's just really, really hard, and I know hardly anyone who understands that.  My "new tradition" is Netflix, Campbell's Chunky Soup, and leftover Christmas cookies - or whatever.  I know a lot of people have it a lot harder than I do - relatives who have died or who live so far away as to be un-travelable-to or such broken relationships that they don't even really want to go home.  And it's true, I'm much better off than that...  But honestly, I'd rather argue about whose family we're going to see for Christmas this year, than be totally alone.  I'm also really struggling with being the pastor and the pastor's wife, but that's for another post...  Pray for me, please, if you're so inclined...

Going to Church: For everyone who has an excuse about why they can't come to church that really boils down to "I just didn't want to put in the effort to get there because it's not that important to me" - one of the ladies in the nursing home here just weaned herself off oxygen so that she could take the senior transit bus to church on Sundays.  I ♥ this. 

On the Other Hand: I'm working on some awesome Christmas cooking/baking projects this year, which I will definitely post pics of when I am done...

Merry Christmas, everyone - remember that the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not, can not, will not overcome it!