The Seven Most Common Words in Church

Preachers like to joke that the most common seven words in the church are, “We haven’t done it that way before.” 

You may chuckle at that line; I think I may have even used it in a sermon.

But I think there’s a new “most common seven words” in the church. They are: “How do we reach the young folks?”

I hear it all the time in conference gatherings, and in clergy circles, and even in various meetings at Kessler Park UMC. And with good reason. A few years ago, the average age of the United Methodist member in the pews was 57 years old, and that trend has been in an upward swing for years.

It should be obvious that an aging membership will eventually do what most aging things do — die. 

That’s why so many people in the church are worried. We rightly are concerned that the witness of Methodism in particular, and the gospel of Jesus Christ in general, would be diluted by closing churches and diminished denominations. We rightly want to share the saving and transforming power of Jesus with our children and their children. Jesus has made a difference in our lives, and so we want future generations to have the same experience.

So we ask, “How do we reach the young folks?”

I have a few opinions on this matter.

First of all, we need to stop asking this question. It’s awfully patronizing. I’ve never met a young person who wanted to be “reached” by a church. That terminology is a little creepy. Can you imagine walking into a church and being told, “Aha, we’ve been looking to find people like you …”?

Furthermore, nobody wants to be called “young folks,” or “young people,” or “millennials,” or “snowflakes,” or “whipper-snappers.” They would prefer to be known as what they are — your neighbors. 

Besides, think about how this question sounds to the other people who sit in your pews. How does this sound to those who don’t consider themselves “young folks”? What about the visitors who are on the other side of maturity, but are still looking for a church home? Are we not as eager to welcome them?

Second, the question itself indicates a lack of confidence in our message and mission. The problem, as framed by this question, appears to be that our age-old message has become a little old-fashioned and needs to be dressed up, modernized, and made more “appealing,” “attractive,” or “entertaining.” This approach treats the gospel as a religious “good” that we must package and market to the masses, like a consumer product. It frames the Methodist faith as a kind of “lifestyle choice” that one can choose amidst a long list of competing churches. It makes us want to improve our labels and spruce up the packaging — “Come see our fantastic children’s ministry!” or “We’ve got world-renowned music!”

In other words, when we ask, “How do we reach the young folks?” what we are actually saying is that we are afraid that the gospel of Jesus Christ is really not enough. We are saying that we are not sure that God is really doing something powerful among us and in us. We are basically admitting that we’re not sure that the Holy Spirit is at work in our church anymore. 

I believe that what young folks, and old folks, and everyone in-between, really want from church is an experience with God. That’s what I want. Isn’t that what you want?

And I want to be part of a church community that believes that every time we gather for worship, or work alongside the poor in a mission project, or sit around a table for fellowship, that Jesus shows up, and something powerful happens.

In the end, the only thing that will make our church attractive to anyone is the presence of church members who are fully alive in Christ, who have seen God at work in their world, and are in the process of being shaped and transformed by God. The reason why anyone will ultimately be drawn to KPUMC is because they see God in you and me.

Let’s stop asking, “How can we reach the young folks?” Please.

Instead, ask yourself, “What is God doing in me?”

Creating Safe Spaces in Lebanon

I’m still dreaming about Lebanon.

But they are uncomfortable dreams … nightmares, almost.

My team and I learned a lot about what a real refugee crisis looks like when we visited Lebanon back in late February. Lebanon, a country of 4.5 million, now finds itself accommodating over 1.5 million Syrians. As you can imagine, this causes a severe strain on societal infrastructure.

For the most part, the Lebanese have responded with courage and good will, extending basic needs to Syrian refugees: shelter, food, healthcare, and basic education.

But we also discovered that there are a number of pressing needs which are going unmet. The trauma caused by the war in Syria has affected an entire generation of children, many of whom have lost a sense of hope for the future. 

According to Dr Mohammad K Hamza, a neuropsychologist with the Syrian-American Medical Society (SAMS), Syria's children of war have experienced more than just post-traumatic stress. He has coined a new term for the amount of emotional trauma that he is seeing in children — “human devastation syndrome.”

A study released by Save the Children last month, based on over 450 interviews with adults and children in Syria, showed that “toxic stress is wreaking havoc on children.” Half of the children interviewed said they never or rarely feel safe at school, and 40% said they don’t feel safe outside t heir own homes. Another 78% of children “feel grief or extreme sadness some or all of the time.”

In our brief visit, we encountered some of these children. One of them has become an emblem of the Syrian conflict to me. I met Pheros in his family’s tent in Marj, near the Syrian border. He was a hollow-eyed 19 year old, with no hint of hope. He didn’t go to school, didn’t work, didn’t have any spark of interest in anything. All he wanted to do, we finally got him to admit, was to return to Syria and fight alongside the rebels.

It may be too late to reach Pheros. He may eventually slip back across the border and join a rebel group. Maybe he’ll join an Islamist group. Or become a suicide bomber. 

Those of us who met Pheros have been dreaming about him ever since. We have been praying about what to do to prevent an entire generation of kids like Pheros from growing up without hope. 

As a result of this interaction, our team is working to put together an NGO called Safe Spaces, which will focus on the psychosocial health of women and children refugees in Lebanon. We plan to partner with some NGOs already on the ground in Lebanon, but provide training for their workers to identify trauma in women and children and equip them with some coping skills and strategies.

We plan to begin in the city of Saida/Sidon, which is south of Beirut on the coast. We want to partner with Al Reaaya, a Lebanese-based NGO that provides relief and developmental support to orphans and widows affected by the war. The first Safe Spaces will be housed in a new school, which we also hope to help finance and build.

Our dream is for this to be a replicable model, which can be expanded into other regions of Lebanon, and work closely with municipalities and school systems.

Don’t get alarmed — I’m not thinking of moving to Lebanon myself! Instead, I believe that I can help leverage the expertise, influence, and resource of the United Methodist Church in America to make a difference. I would also like to facilitate some short-term mission trips to Lebanon in the coming years. In fact, we are currently planning a return trip to Lebanon during the third week of September 2017. The Bishop has already expressed interest in going, as well as the pastor of a very large United Methodist Church in the Dallas area.

I would love for some of y’all to go on that trip, but if you can’t, there are other ways that you can become involved with Safe Spaces. In particular, I am looking for psychotherapists trained in the field of PTSD and children. If you know someone who fits this criteria, please forward their information to me. 

Even if you don’t know someone, there are things you can do to help support this initiative. Let me know; we’ll find a role you can play