I Need a Hero

  

     It's the holiday season - and once again, various family members are sending out emails and Facebook messages asking for that awful, dreaded, "oh, no, not that again" list.  You know, that list that offers up suggestions and ideas from me - in hopes the gift I receive from my loved ones this year is one I want, rather than one they just think I might like.  And once again, even though throughout the year I often came across an item I thought I could use or might just want as a gift - somehow I can't recall a single item when it's time to offer up anything that looks like a "list" of possibilities.  So, it seems that too often in recent years I end up saying, "Just get me a gift certificate."  I figure that way I can hold on to it for that moment when I actually remember that particular item I happened across that I thought I wanted. 

     The truth is this yearly "list making" has become an exercise in futility for one reason more than any other.  It's because I'm pretty sure I have come to that place most of us eventually get to in our lives where I realize I don't need anything anymore.  And in fact, my life is so filled with blessings, that except for food, I probably could go until next Christmas without shopping once and be just fine. 

     But as I contemplated this "list" of my "things I just can't live without" again this morning, something occurred to me.  In fact I started to say here that this thought occurred to me a couple of months ago.  But as I contemplated more deeply, I realized I've been ruminating on this a lot longer than that.  When the reality of just how long I've been considering adding this desire to my "list" sunk in, it both amazed me and disturbed me at the same time.  Because in reality I've been in need of this for more years than I know how to count.  And forgive me, but I think the older I get and the more satisfied I am with the "stuff" of life, the more I realize the things I truly want more than anything else are not things to be had by pushing a shopping cart or carrying a credit card. 

     Somewhere along the line, as I moved into and a bit past “middle age,” I realized this is not just a desire, but a terrible, deep, aching, longing need. 

     Now, try not to laugh – or shake your head or roll your eyes . . .

            But the simple truth is –

I need a hero!

     I’ve known this for years, but have only lately been able to put it into those four little words.  You see, the evolution of my life in the institution we know as the “Church” has taken this need from what was probably just a thought or maybe even a slight wish, to what has become a desperate and urgent plea.  I have taken this plea to the Lord for years now, and have decided that although I know He could just drop a hero straight from heaven – maybe God is waiting for me to take part in the answer.  So I thought maybe I could publish this need and God might just deliver it into the hands of a potential answer to my prayer, or even better, He might just use my feeble confession to initiate a “wave of reality” and perhaps create a generation of heroes.

     Please allow me to explain:  Somewhere along the line, it seems a deep and uncrossable chasm arose in the Church, although I’m not well-researched enough to know the exact time.  But I'm pretty certain at one time it was widely accepted and appreciated that older Christians had a lot of wisdom to offer young believers; and at the same time, those who were tender and fresh in their journey had something fresh and unique to offer to the older generation as well.  But just as the enemy loves to do, at some point congregations began to divide into two factions and the sanctuary seemed to be reserved for only one group at a time.  The older crowd enjoyed their time in the sanctuary with their sensibilities fed and their tastes met to their comfort and satisfaction.  And either the younger crowd took their worship to an area specifically designated for their use or simply met for worship in the sanctuary at a different time.

     Somewhere along the way the young and old believers in Jesus became two very distinct and separate entities.

     Sorry, but no one can tell me this isn’t a widely occurring phenomenon, because I have witnessed it in too many churches and spoken to too many believers who have witnessed it as well.  And this phenomenon has grown more and more alarming to me.  For the large churches who have lots of space and a budget that allows for a large staff, this seems to have simply become ingrained in their philosophy and accommodations have been made so that both groups have their own leader and meet in their own space at their own chosen time. 

     The unfortunate consequence has been that too often smaller churches, with smaller budgets whose leaders are not the most gifted with the most contemporary ideologies lose their youth to the churches with the ability to offer inviting programs along with a more “youthful” style of worship. The smaller congregations are left constantly scratching their heads, scheming and striving to figure a way to bring youth back to their congregations – mostly to no avail.  Why?  Because no matter what the small church offers – the young take one peek inside this type of church and see white hair, an organ and a piano, and turn up their noses for that which is more appealing.  Or, a young person stumbles into the midst of this more geriatric society and every effort he or she makes at "updating" is met with such criticism, they lose heart and move on.
     One of the things I have observed with this dilemma is that sadly, it somehow became too easy for the older crowd to settle down in their comfortable, familiar settings – blindly unaware that they are placing a death certificate on the door of their future.  Because where there is no youth – death is inevitable.
     At the same time, the young have had such an infusion of fresh and new approaches to "doing church" that they can become steadfastly accustomed to church on their terms, and easily forget how vital it is that the older crowd have someone to whom they can pass on the treasures they hold.

     The most unfortunate aspect to this conundrum, to me, seems to be the increasing unwillingness of either group to bend in their desires or choices and the mounting intensity with which both sides cling to their customs and traditions.  So, it appears we are left with an “either/or” definition of the church.  Small steps may be made toward inclusion.  But when the effort to bend tilts to one side or the other a little too much – watch out!  The likely result is often an exodus. 
     Please forgive me if I seem to see only two sides - but for all the efforts to which I've been exposed concerning "blended" worship - I have yet to experience an effort that both sides would claim to be satisfactory. 
    However, for all my negative observations, I want to make a transparent and honest confession - I am still hopeful.  You see, I am holding out hope there is a hero out there somewhere who is willing to set an example and begin a cultural shift.  I believe it is absolutely possible and I am holding out hope there is a young person in my future who is bold enough and selfless enough to realize they might be the answer to this dilemma.  Not that I am saying the fault of this conundrum lies more with the young crowd - but I am clinging to the hope that there exists somewhere close at hand a young person willing to rub elbows with a lot of old people while maintaining a hunger for the young crowd who desperately need the Lord.  A youthful Godsend wise enough to recognize we all really do need each other – the young and the old.  A young warrior who is willing to smile through a lot of dinners-on-the-ground and “singspirations,” while still taking a firm stand for church programs and worship innovations that have evolved and changed to become new voices and fresh instruments that speak to a new generation. 
     I need a hero who sees the endless possibilities within themselves to become a bridge in the hands of Almighty God, while being humble enough to become that bridge one slat or one nail at a time.  I need a hero, not already perfect or complete, but one willing to grow and realize that even the elderly haven’t gotten there yet – and keen enough to realize that if the process is to be successful they desperately need one another to claim that success.  I need a hero to renew my fading hope that there exists no “greater generation” than the present one, partly because they see the greatness of the last.

     Although ministry to youth was never intended to bring division to the church – and my husband and I devoted over 16 years to youth ministry – it is quite possible we who ministered to youth have been part of the equation that brought division.  But clinging to Jesus' promise that "the gates of hell will not prevail against it" (the Church) and with a solid belief in the youth of this generation, I will fervently hold out my hope for a new kind of glue that seals the generational gap that currently exists in the church.  I will continue my pleas to God and will keep my eyes open and my hope fresh, no matter what.  Because I'm convinced what I need most in all the world is just on the other side of these words. My Hero.