Peace Without Comfort

This paradox has been on my mind quite a bit these past few days (arguably months) - the idea of a peace that might be totally distinct from comfort. I'm sure this divine peace most likely applies to situations of physical and emotional discomfort as well... but in my case it applies to my theological discomfort.

See, I'm getting ready to enter my senior year of college, and at this point I have more questions about God than answers. I've read a number of different theological systems, and have seemed to identify most with emergent theology, although in a dialectic sort of way (dialectic is simply a fancy college word for "give and take"). I haven't found any system of belief about God that I've fully subscribed to (and I sincerely fear that the day I do is the day I've traded the mysterious God who somehow reveals Himself and escapes my understanding at the exact same moments for the God-philosophy that uses God as a mere explanation for the way the world around us works).

The problem with my identification with emergent theology is that, because it focuses on relationship and dialogue, and on the spiritual journey as being equally as important as the destination, many traditionally well-defined beliefs are called into question and reexamined... That doesn't leave me with very many answers.

I've also realized over the summer a number of unique challenges I face going into vocational youth ministry that, if I am to succeed at such a career, will require me to completely rethink the way youth ministry is done. The first, which is obvious to anyone who knows me, is that communication is not one of my strengths. I would rather have my teeth pulled than endure the awkwardness of standing in front of a crowd fumbling for the right words to say, even when I have well-outlined notes. The second thing is that I have virtually no natural administrative leadership skills that I'm aware of. I'm not naturally the point-man in a given situation, nor am I necessarily comfortable with the idea of being that person. All in all, I don't really fit the mold of your traditional youth pastor... I can't imagine myself getting up in front of a group several times a week, nor do I think am I a broad enough planner to cover all the bases necessary to plan a large-scale youth event.

So I'm not comfortable with my theology, and I'm not comfortable with my ability to fill the traditional role of a youth pastor, and yet there's a certain peace about it all. The peace is knowing that whatever my theology is or becomes over time, I can say that it developed naturally out of a sincere pursuit of holistic knowledge of Jesus - that is, knowledge that extends beyond intellectual conviction into everyday life and actions; knowledge that permeates a person and changes him from the inside out. And as for youth ministry, fortunately there's a God who chooses old, broken wineskins, and a God who sees my passion to enter into relationship with teenagers and really listen to them. That's the core of youth ministry - it's the end goal, and it's the part I'm most passionate about. I'm hoping to do ministry without all the answers, and that's extremely uncomfortable, but there's a peace in knowing that there's no better way to do it.

The Hotseat

Last night's youth group was an interesting experience. We finished out our current video series and split off into small groups to discuss what the video talked about. We did it a bit differently this week though, and each group leader was given one question, leaving the kids to move freely between groups. I thought it was a great idea until I was asked to discuss with teenagers the prompt of "Sometimes I wonder whether or not God even exists".

At first only two kids came to the group, but within a matter of minutes, there were at least 15 or 20 gathered around, each with different questions and doubts, coming to me alone for answers or guidance.

Why does science always seem to contradict the things that we're supposed to believe as Christians?

There are so many religions, what if I pick the wrong one?

What if Christianity isn't the right religion?

Sometimes I worry that when we die, nothing at all will happen, we'll just be dead... then what will we have lived for?

How do we know the Bible is true, wasn't it written by men?

What about the people who are in Africa who will never even hear about Jesus, will they go to heaven?

If God has mercy on the people who have never heard about him, then why do we send missionaries to evangelize to them? I thought the whole point was that we were trying to save them from Hell, and that responsibility was all on our shoulders. Why do we evangelize then?

Will heaven really be just this cloudy place in the sky where we float around for eternity?

Sometimes I doubt God because I've never had one of those "Aha!" moments I hear people talk about in church.

What about people who don't believe in God because the church has screwed up so badly?

When I see so much suffering in the world, it's hard not to doubt God. It's like, because there's suffering, there is no God, or because there is no God, there's suffering... how can both exist?

These are just some of the questions I was asked in a matter of 45 minutes... fortunately there's a gracious God who loves us in spite of ourselves who I could point to as the answer for life's tough questions.

Finding Redemption In All The Wrong Places

I don't listen to much rap music these days; not because I'm not fond of the genre, but because most of it is stupid (I mean that in the very literal sense of the word). One need look no further than the current Top 10 songs to discover that the "rapper" has abandoned his role as an agent of social change and emerged as a 21st century minstrel, dawning the "bling" that amounts to nothing more than modern day BlackFace to entertain his audiences, all while guided by the profit-driven record companies.

In this sense, the culture of Hip Hop has fallen. It has sold out commercialism and capitalism (I could point to once popular songs written entirely about sneakers or jewel-studded teeth). It is from this state of Fallenness that redemption seems to [super]naturally emerge (how can something that hasn't fallen be redeemed?) I've been reading and interacting with Ricky Ross's blog during the past couple months. He's been attributed with starting the crack epidemic in Los Angeles in the mid-80's. He's finishing out the last year and a half in prison, and the nature of his blog reflects genuine change. He's harnessed his culturally iconic name of "Freeway Ricky Ross" and is using that to gain momentum for his new project. He's started a website that is promoting "genuine" artists who rap for social change. He's marketing "Smart is the new gangsta", and will bring this hopeful and life-affirming art into the mainstream, transforming the Hip Hop Culture into a culture of hope and brighter days.

If you still have doubts about the legitimacy of hope through Hip Hop, watch this old video of Tupac Shakur, who is often portrayed as a mindless and violent thug, and look at the redemption and hope that his lyrics give to women in urban communities...