Four Strikes

I spent the last week with a group of college kids, doing a service project in the inner city of Chicago. It was a great time. I didn’t know any of the kids before the trip, so this was truly a learning experience for me. And one thing I learned is that we are absolutely telling college kids the wrong things.

By “wrong”, I mean “inconsistent”. We want them to believe certain things and behave in certain ways, but we also expect certain other beliefs and behaviors which militate against the former. It happens in four areas.

Go West, Young Man

We tell our college kids that it’s time to grow up, to become independent. They must learn to think and act for themselves, to be responsible. They will succeed or fail on their own in college, because mom and dad aren’t there to make sure the homework gets done.

We also tell them to lean on God, to behave like a child toward him. They are to look to him for guidance and support, for direction and strength. They are not to lean on their own understanding. They are not to choose their own way.

Which one do they choose? Sure, the conflict is there for us “grown ups” as well, but the college years are a time when independence is pounded into these folks. I submit that these messages contradict each other, and the data backs me up. More on that later.

Grades Are Job 1

Who can deny that a college student’s primary responsibility is getting good grades? Does anyone tell his college-bound child, “Just do enough to get by”, or “70% is what I’m looking for, son” ? Of course not. We parents have an expectation that our children will be doing their absolute best. College is expensive, and time there is not to be wasted or misused.

At the same time, we expect spiritual growth from our children. However, the pressure of doing well in school takes its toll. Talking with some of the young adults on this trip, it seems that the spiritual equivalent of treading water is about all that many of them hope to achieve during their college years. And I don’t blame them: we demand so much of them each semester that for these kids to focus on developing their spiritual life seems virtually unattainable.

For example, which parent swould accept this statement from their college student: “I spent so much time in Bible study [or whatever] that I didn’t have time to do my best on the term paper, and I only got a C.” Sounds like a flimsy excuse, doesn’t it? Is there any activity or focus which we would accept as an excuse for a result below what our students are capable of? I’ll ask it again: is there any voluntary excuse for our students not doing their absolute best?

Sure, sure, we have similar pressures as adults. Work life often conflicts with spiritual life. I know that some (most? all?) companies will be happy if we devoted every waking hour to working for them. However, it’s a rare job that consumes us as much as attending college does. The pressure from parents, peers, and self to do well is high. Students are told that their careers, their future success, hinges on the results they deliver in college (untrue, but we tell them that). Do we dare tell them that success, in and out of the workplace, depends on things utterly unrelated to their GPA? Andy Stanley says, “You become successful the day you embrace the vision God has for your life.” What parents are risking telling their college kids that?

Show Me the Money

How many of us tell our college students to spend quantity time devoted to spiritual things over the summer? None of the kids I talked to got that message. They are working, working, working. (Ok, one of the guys doesn’t have a job this summer, as his athletic scholarship and other grants cover his schooling. But he’s by far the exception.)

The other kids, however, have the opposite story. They are working hard over the summer, earning money for school, necessary transportation, or other living expenses. And the jobs they have aren’t even contributing to their careers or teaching them life skills: one young man will be delivering pizzas, and a young woman will be waitressing.

This isn’t a knock on these students; not at all. It’s rather an indictment of us as parents that we tell our kids that it’s more important that they make a couple thousand bucks doing jobs which provide no training or long-term benefit, and we don’t make sure these same kids are serving their communities, encouraging their friends, or learning more about God. The mission trip we were on to start the summer is the only plan these kids had in the way of spiritual activity — one week, then off to work.

What parent will welcome this from their students: “I don’t see how I can have a summer job. I lead a Bible study for the middle schoolers twice a week, I meet with my accountability group every Friday, and with regular visits to the old folks home and tutoring inner city kids, there just isn’t time for a job. Besides, what company will have me when I’ll be gone on mission trips for three weeks?”

(As another example, I know a young man who wants to be a youth pastor. He just graduated from high school, and his parents nixed his plans to work for an inner city ministry over the summer. It wouldn’t make as much money as working the night shift on the loading dock of a big-box store in town. It makes me so mad, I could just….)

Debt: The American Way

My good friend Matt Schoenfeld of Heartland Financial Concepts tells me that the average credit card debt incurred by a college freshman is $1500, and it’s up to $3000 by the time he or she graduates. Bear in mind that this is credit card debt only; it doesn’t include school, car, or other debt. The total debt is around $20,000. This is an average, so there are many, many who have much more than that.

What are we telling our students, when we encourage them to start off their independent lives by shackling themselves to such a financial burden? Will they be free to serve God, to go where he leads them? How many can afford to become missionaries, to serve in poverty-stricken areas, to accept low-paying jobs where the need is greatest? I suspect that the majority will be worrying about how to pay off their loans, not about how to follow the call of God.

Yes, we adults are victims of the debt monster, too. It’s not right for us, either. I submit that there are two main causes for a Christian who wants to serve God to be unable to do so: one cause is shame, and the other is debt. To reference my buddy Matt again, who counsels many people with financial problems, he hears this statement over and over: “We really want to serve God. We’d love to be missionaries. However, we have this huge debt that we can’t get out from under.” It’s unfortunate that we’re starting our kids off with this strike against them.

And you’re out

So these are the four strikes I observed while spending a week with these wonderful kids. They had such a heart to serve the church we were sent to help, and to a man (and woman) they wanted to find a way to help more. But they had jobs to get to, and life had to go on. And this brings me to the data I mentioned earlier. Reports show that 75% of teens no longer share their parents’ religious views and/or stop attending church within two years of graduating from high school. With the pressures put on them during college to become independent, do well in school, make money, and incur debt, I’m surprised that 25% are still hanging on.

Divine authority?

I have noticed that my view of the Bible is changing over the last couple of years. Actually, what I think is happening is that I am actually forming a view of the Bible. I guess that sounds odd coming from a person who has been a Christian for over twenty years. I think what is happening is that I’ve stopped just accepting what others say about it, and as a result I’m developing a deeper respect for it. I am noticing, though, that I have a strong reaction against what I hear others say the Bible is and how we should look at it.

Let me start off by saying that I teach the Bible, and I really, really like reading it. I think it’s inspired. I’m not knocking the Bible, but just the way some people look at it. Here’s the latest example. I was looking over a website of a parachurch organization that a friend pointed out. They have a place where you can order some of their materials, and at the bottom of the order form is a link to their statement of faith. I clicked on the link and read the statement, and here’s the line about the Bible which bothered me: “Christians must submit to its divine authority.” I stopped reading and thought, “The Bible has authority over me? I have to submit to a book? When did this happen?”

Now, I guess the authors of this statement are thinking this: “God has authority over me. God wrote the Bible. Therefore, the Bible has authority over me.” However, the choice of words here is telling; the book itself has some sort of power. I told this to my wife, and she responded, “Ah, it’s a magic book.”

And that’s just it. The Bible isn’t a magic book. It has no authority in itself. (I’m sure this makes the fundies fume.) The Bible is a communication from the one who does have authority. Here’s an example: I recently won a court judgment against a tenant that I had to evict. My proof of this judgment is a piece of paper. I can take this paper and go to the tenant’s employer and begin to garnish wages. Now, the piece of paper has no authority in itself. It only represents the authority of its author, in this case the county government. The employer knows that the paper shows the wishes of the author, and he has bound himself to obey the author — not the paper.

I think the distinction is subtle, yet vitally important. Yes, the paper tells us what the author wants us to know. Yes, the reading the paper is just like hearing the author speak those written words into our ears. However, we have not bound ourselves to the paper. We owe our allegiance to the person who wrote the paper.

I heard a radio preacher the other day say much the same thing as was in this statement of faith. Several times he said we are to submit ourselves to the authority of the Bible. Nowhere did he mention that we are to submit to God, or to each other, or to our spouses. Sigh.

So we are substituting the Bible for God. We submit to the Bible. The Bible has authority. It’s “the Bible says….” and “the Bible teaches….” I disagree. God never gave authority to a book. He has authority, and he gives it to people. If those people write things down, then it’s still the authority of that person (and God behind him) that we recognize. There’s a big difference, as now I feel a connection to those people and the legacy they’ve left us, rather than just reading a textbook and feeling like there’s a test coming.

Engagement, not extraction

Tim Schmoyer has an article discussing how a Christian should approach online gaming as a potential mission field. His suggestion is not to form a Christian group, but instead to join an existing group and be a Christian in it.

This is precisely the opposite of some of the extractional thinking we’re seeing. The church down the road advertises on their web site that soon they’ll be offering a “24/7 Christian Experience”. You’ll be able to work out, eat, do homework, play basketball and video games, apparently without ever meeting a non-Christian! I’m not at all sure this is what Jesus had in mind.

I know what you’re thinking! I’m the pot calling the kettle black because I homeschool! Let me explain the difference. The primary (and overwhelming) reason for us to homeschool is to spend more time with our children. Sure, there are other reasons too, but our goal is build our relationships with our children. We anticipate that the end result will be children who are properly prepared to engage with the world, not to find ways to avoid it. The kinds of relationships one can build at the gym, on the basketball court, at a cafe or the library are the very ones I believe Jesus wants us to cultivate, once we are equipped.

I spent several formative years associating mostly with like-minded believers, both at work and play. This helped me develop some (I hope) “Jesus lenses” through which I can view life around me. It prepared me for spending the rest of my life engaging the world, not running from it.

Of course, my Jesus lenses occasionally get fogged up, so I’m counting on my brothers and sisters to keep me honest.