“Every day, they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved.” (Acts 2:46-47)
My wife, Carol, reminded me that I’m not any spring chicken and that BYF (Baptist Youth Fellowship) is a few decades in my rearview mirror. The initials that more accurately apply to me these days are AARP. Nevertheless, I planned the youth lock-in at church for Saturday evening through Sunday morning, an 18-hour marathon fueled by two pots of coffee.
Why, you might ask just as Carol did, would I not only agree to but plan and encourage a lock-in for young people whose objective is to run the whole race of insomnia? After all, the last youth lock-in I headed up was in 1983 at the First Baptist Church of Lansing, Michigan. I can still remember the names of the excited kids: Steve Landon, Laurie Landon, Shirl Kentner, Jon Daniels, Jimmy Michels, Greg Nash, Michele Nash, Brian Baker, Becky Epps, Suzy Epps, Sara Epps, Becky Landon, Jenny Landon, Rachel Knox, John Girard, Phil Girard, and on and on. Perhaps the fond memories made me jump off the cliff for another go-around at lunacy.
Or maybe I remember how spending several hours together ended up being a bonding experience for the adolescents who came. It wasn’t like coming to church on Sunday with their families and being amongst a congregation of mostly older people. During that lock-in, they were the church, the Body of Christ, freed up to participate in the silliness of teenagers, talk about the topics of their world, and be who they were without feeling like someone was looking over their shoulder all the time. They could even run in the building and laugh long and loud.
In essence, this lock-in forty-one years later mirrored the one in 1983. Bonding and hilarious hysteria abounded. They enjoyed themselves and even settled down to focus on what they hope the Lord will do in their lives in the coming year. We shared communion together around midnight before doing something you can only do at a youth lock-in…watch “The Princess Bride” on the big screen in the sanctuary while munching on popcorn and drinking Coca-Cola (with caffeine!). At 4:30, we played the fast-paced group game that Jim Berlage taught us back in the 80s, “Mr. Boodle.” We went for a solid hour, and my voice began to give out at 5:30. They begrudgingly agreed to stop, and for almost an hour and a half, a silence settled over those who had been fighting the sleepies. I even grabbed forty minutes lying on a thin pew cushion with chiropractor implications.
The senior pastor, Dan Schumacher, and I have both discussed what we realize, and that is that only a clueless clergyperson would think that a thirty-minute sermon on a Sunday morning would be able to take care of the spiritual nourishment of a teenager. In fact, not just teens but anybody connected to a congregation. Okay, put another thirty minutes of prayer, singing, and sharing communion there. Even an hour of the community in worship doesn’t do it.
Young people need time together to bond. It is not a weekly lock-in, mind you! I can only do two pots of coffee every once in a while. Rather, occasional gatherings that create a fabric of caring, laughing, and being comfortable in the presence of their peers. It’s the youth equivalent of the early church.
And now, I’m working on building up my immune system for a weekend winter retreat. A good forty-two hours in a remote location where I pray there are shower facilities for the boys. A retreat with scented candles is one thing, but aromatic boys could be the death of me.
Words from WW Blog 