church kids of the world, unite!

(I've included the picture to the right as a prologue to this essay, perhaps beacuse it encompasses so much of what I feel regarding elements of the church today.)

I'm a church kid, raised on Petra and Amy Grant since I was negative nine years old. But that's not interesting. What's interesting is how I've survived. Being a church kid is not easy, second only to 'pastor's kids' and 'missionary kids' in infamy. We're strange people who have been raised on every VBS and church program imaginable, people who, saved or not, can quote the entire plan of salvation word for word because they've sat through more revival meetings and youth camps than a Billy Graham Crusade counselor, and people who've spend more time in a church than their own homes. Of course, we rarely travel alone, so since I've spent so much time with my fellow church kids, I've figured out a few things about our species. There are three types of church kids:

• The zombie - the first type of church kid (and perhaps the scariest of them all) is the zombie, a brainwashed, culturally naive child who has spent every waking moment of his/her life in the church. This person has Sky Angel TV, watches TBN religiously, and has never heard/read anything that was not purchased at LifeWay christian stores. They exist in a christian bubble that is usually 'popped' the moment they leave the protective cocoon that they have relied on all their life, resulting in a massive complex.
• The rebel - this type may account for the fate of most of my breed. The rebel was dragged to church every moment of his life just as the zombie was, but unlike the former, the rebel hated everything he heard the moment he realized that his pastor wsn't always right and he enjoyed cuss words. This epithany began a massive conflict in his household, ending as he begins to gain independence for his parents (often in the form of a car and/or college).
• The questioner - me. This third church kid has a connundrum in his life: on one hand, he does believe the message he has been taught, unlike the rebel. On the other, he refuses to believe everything he has been spoon-fed his entire life simply because his church has spoken it. What happens to us? Often, we become bitter - we begin to read the Bibel for ourselves, refuting denominational and doctrinal practices instilled in us since childhood. We look around and fail to see things commanded by Jesus lived out in the church around us. Yep, that's a pretty good description of me.

I lay all that out now as a cross-section of the people within the church, because, in large, these are the kids the church is cranking out. We are producing kids who will probably break when exposed to the culture and have their faith crushed, run away from the church outright in favor of other pleasures, or remain in church but feel a growing uneasiness at the church's practices that evolves over time into bitterness. Wow, that's optimistic.

In his book Velvet Elvis, pastor Rob Bell tells a story of his own experience being a church kid. He and his family were traveling and went to a Sunday church servie. At the end of the service, the pastor gave a compelling presentation of the gospel, calling the congregation to close their elyes and pray if they wanted to recieve Christ, pausing during his prayer so they could repeat it. He then prompted those who had prayed to raise their hands, saying 'Thank you in the back' and 'thank you ladies up front' as people responded. But Rob bell had his eyes open as a 13 year old teenager. No one put up their hand. It was all a lie. He said many years later his father spoke with him concerning the moment, because his father's eyes had been open that day, too, watching Rob, and praying that his faith would not fall when exposed to such manipulation. This is his response:

"I am like you. I have seen plenty done in the name of God that I'm sure God doesnt want anything to do with. I have lots of reasons for bailing on the whole thing. I am also like you because I have a choice. To become bitter, cynical, jaded, and hard. Anybody can do that. A lot have. Hatred is a powerful, unifying force. And there is a lot to be repulsed by.

Or, like you, I can choose to reclaim my innocence. We can choose to reclaim our innocence together. We can insist that hope is real and that a group of people who love God and others really can change the world. We can reclaim our idealism and our belief and our confidence in the big ideas that stir us deep in our bones. We can commit all the more to being the kinds of people who are learning how to do what Jesus teaches us.

I am not going to stop dreaming of a new kind of faith for the millions of us who need it. I am not going to stop dreaming of new kinds of communities that put the love of God and the brilliance of Jesus on display in honest, compelling ways. I am not going to stop dreaming of new ways to live lives of faith and creativity and meaning and significance.

But I can't do it alone. I need you. We need you. We need you to rediscover wonder and awe. We need you to believe that it is really possible. We need you to join us.

It's better that way.

It's what Jesus had in mind."

Thank's Rob; I needed that.

All of us questioners respond to the realization that the state of the church is lacking in a different way. Some are quiet and take it, growing inwardly bitter. Some leave to form new communities of like minded people. Some leave the church, period. And some, like me, are attempting to survive within the madness, knowing that we are somehow responsible oursleves, that if the body is sick, we are part of the body, and so we are sick as well. But the vision lives on: a generation of God-worshippers, united in the body of Christ, who care more about reaching a lost world than the things that seperate them, a generation of missionaries who live lives of purpose, that in everything they do they glorify Christ and draw people to Him, a generation of lovers, who see the world as a place that reflects the glory of God if only they would shine...

It's only a vision, but it's beautiful, isn't it?