Having worked as a “religious professional” for the past 5 years and seeing “behind the curtain” (which continues to have a temporary but very real debilitating effect on me every time some new “wizard” is exposed), I’m thankful that I work with teenagers and not adults. And not just because their worship music is better, but because the shift that is happening in this younger generation gives me hope for the future of the Church.

Reason 1 – The younger generation desires authentic community.

Unlike their parents who elevate the individual, this younger generation wants to be part of a group. Social media, like Facebook, may appear to be an escape from real relationships (and in some ways it is), but I see it more as a search for authentic community. I just re-read Marva Dawn’s awesome book Is It A Lost Cause and in it she says, “To be true to the Hebrew/Christian Scriptures of the Church, first of all, we must reject the individualism of Western Civilization. This individualism has caused us to read the Bible singularly and to think about our faith only in personal terms. Contrarily, almost all of the Scriptures are addressed to communities.” I have seen this younger generation respond to a Church that is scriptural instead of individualistic. What Paul presents in his letter to the Corinthians about the Church as Christ’s body and that every part is necessary no matter how ordinary resonates with them.

Reason 2 – The younger generation seeks what’s real.

It has been said of this younger generation that truth is irrelevant. I don’t believe that. Or at least it has not been my experience with them. What I have seen this younger generation do is disregard “truth-tellers” who aren’t real. What this means for us “religious professionals” is that we need to be intentionally personal in our proclaiming the Truth. Bible teaching needs to be real, meaning it needs to contain personal stories, not cute anecdotes or even stories of historical Christians, but honest, authentic stories about people with whom these kids have a relationship. If it is real, they will seek it. This younger generation heard the Truth in Jefferson Bethke’s video while the older generation discerned his word choice.

Reason 3 – The younger generation is intolerant of intolerance.

This generation is the least prejudice generation in history and the most dissatisfied with current racial relations. They see themselves as a truly global community. They celebrate diversity. What an opportunity this presents the Church! Marva Dawn also says, “The gospel calls us to welcome everyone as God has welcomed us, breaking down barriers to discover the unity of God’s diversity, the revealing of God’s grace that comes from people not like ourselves.” I believe God is raising up this generation to obliterate the homogeneous Church.

Senior Pastors don’t miss the opportunity to disciple and empower this younger generation. Maybe you should resign from your position and become the youth pastor. I think He told me to say that to you…but if He didn’t…I know He told me to tell you to give your youth pastor a raise.

So glad it’s all about grace.

Zach

I preached a few weeks ago on “goodness.” Not because I wanted to, but because we were in a series on the Fruit of the Spirit and I didn’t have a choice.

Goodness?! Really?! Why am I so opposed to goodness? I don’t know. Maybe because for a long time I was so good at being so good but for not so good reasons. But that is not what I want to write about here.

(If you want to check out where I landed with “goodness”, click here to hear my sermon titled “Be Good.”)

Towards the end of my sermon, I addressed the parents of teenagers specifically. I asked them if their teenager knew that they (the parents) needed Jesus. I don’t mean cognitively know…I mean really know.

John Newton said, “We can’t be told we are sinners, we have to be shown.” I think the same is true when we are telling others about our sin and our need for Jesus as Savior. We can’t just tell them we are sinners. We have to show them.

After 5 years of youth ministry, I’m convinced this is especially true for communicating with teenagers.

I thought my point was rather brilliant…

Maybe it was…

I thought the Holy Spirit was convicting all those who had ears to hear…

Maybe He was…

But a week later a parent approached me…

“Zach, my husband and I loved your sermon, but we have no idea how to show our teenagers our need for Jesus. How do we do it?”

Wasn’t my brilliant point and the Holy Spirit enough?! Ugh!

I’m not a good “how to” guy, which probably means I will be a very frustrating preacher to most…sorry…it’s frustrating to me too…and I’m working on it…although I doubt I will get much better.

But because I love this parent, and because I think it is so important for our teenagers, I am going to attempt to show you “How to Show Your Teenager You Need Jesus” in three (I wish they were easier) steps.

Tell your teenager the truth about his/her sin and YOUR SIN. Your teenager wants to know the truth. An attempt to avoid consequences is inevitable, but the guilt if unaddressed is far more excruciating…and your teenager knows that. And when you address your teenager’s sin, know your teenager’s heart so well, that even if you never did the same exact thing, you can share a time where your heart motive was the same. This will take some work. Not only do you need to know your teenager’s heart well, you will need to know your own heart well.

Invite your teenager into YOUR REPENTANCE. This could be done a number of different ways. Confess a besetting sin to your teenager and ask him/her to intercede for you in prayer also giving them permission to ask how you are doing in that area from time to time. Allow your teenager to hold you accountable for steps you need to take in reconciliation for a past sin. Or simply set a time to pray with your teenager once a week for the purpose of you confessing your sin before your loving Father. In my job as a youth pastor, I get the unique privilege of being present at times when others confess sin to God in prayer. The experience always affects me. How profound this experience would be if the one confessing were my parents.

Talk about YOUR RELATIONSHIP with Jesus often. Mention Him a lot. Talk about Him like He is a person, not an idea. Love Him and more importantly like Him. Your teenager needs to know that Jesus is not only knowable, but loveable and even likeable.

You need Jesus. You know you do. Now go and show your teenager. And if you mess it up, your teenager will see that you need Jesus!

So glad it’s all about grace.

Zach

DISCLAIMER: There is a danger I’m taking in writing this letter while currently serving as a Youth Pastor as this could appear to be a passive-aggressive attempt to communicate with my own Senior Pastor. THIS IS NOT THE CASE. I love my Senior Pastor and talk openly with him on a regular basis. This letter comes from 5 years of being a Youth Pastor and spending 5 years talking with other Youth Pastors. My intent in writing this fictitious letter is to encourage honest dialogue between Senior Pastors and Youth Pastors.

2nd DISCLAIMER: Just like Senior Pastors, every once in a while there is a Youth Pastor that is simply “bad.” The following will not help in aiding a Senior Pastor’s relationship with a “bad” Youth Pastor. He should probably just be fired.

Dear Senior Pastor,

For a while now I’ve been meaning to tell you the following three things:

1. Please know that I don’t want your job! I really don’t! I’m a good communicator. Maybe even better than you because my audience forces me to be. (Teenagers have to be the most fickle audiences.) I’ve actually been offered opportunities to pursue a job like yours…and I don’t want it! I see how people treat you. I see how people place such high expectations on you and your family. I see how you are required to solve every problem from the drums being too loud during the last song to why a loving God would allow Mary’s mother to get cancer. I see how you need to be all things to all people at all times. Now in some ways the same is asked of me as the Youth Pastor, but unlike me, you can’t say “Hey, I’m just the youth guy.” Did I mention, I really don’t want your job?!

2. Please know the hard parts of my job and acknowledge to me that you know it’s hard. Care about my job. Genuinely care. Like noted in #1, I am dealing with the most fickle of all humans, teenagers. There are days that I think, why don’t they like me? How could 5 of my best leaders “take a break” from our youth group and go with their buddy Tim to his youth group? Also, most of the time I talk about our brokenness and our neediness and Jesus as the Healer and Savior, I am met with blank stares or worse faces lit by iPhones. Because most of my teenagers have “good” parents, because their parents work really hard to provide for them a “good” life and protect them from the world and often times even their own selves…they don’t really see a need for Jesus. He isn’t practical to them. I need you to remind me that what I’m doing is important and that it matters. I need you to tell me that I might not see results today, but when this teenager screws it up bad in college (and she will…every single one of them…even or maybe especially the home-school ones), maybe she will remember the Gospel that I preached to her today and believe then.

3. Please know I want you to care about me. Actually, the previous two don’t really matter. Just this one. My passion as a Youth Pastor is to provide teenagers with what I longed for as a teenager. To have someone take an interest in me. To love me and tell me I have what it takes. To usher me into adulthood. (I didn’t really have that which doesn’t excuse but might explain some of my sophomoric behavior and poor choices.) I look up to you. Like I said, I don’t want your job, but in many ways I want to be like you. Your faithfulness, your perseverance, your compassion. Show me how you survive a job that from my view, since I’m already being honest, looks pretty sh*tty…because in doing that I really believe you will show me Jesus.

Thank you for all you do…now can we hang?

Sincerely,

A Youth Pastor

Senior Pastors, seriously, thank you for all you do…now go and love your Youth Pastor!

So glad it’s all about grace.

Zach

I was sitting outside in the almost unbearable heat and humidity of Acapulco, Mexico trying to have a discussion with teenagers about Romans 3 after a long day of construction at Casa Hogar, a home where children live whose families cannot afford to take care of them. I was mostly trying to lead this discussion because it felt like what I was supposed to do as the youth pastor, but really I just wanted to get out of heat and go to bed.

To avoid much thought or effort on my part, I simply read the passage and asked the students to go around and share what stood out to them. As the students went around the circle, I heard the typical, superficial “Christian” goody-goody answers, which was fine with me because it meant I didn’t have to really engage in the discussion and I could just respond the same…without thought.

Then Hannah spoke up. I didn’t know Hannah very well and when she was a student in my ministry, she didn’t participate much. Now she was a college student who decided to come along with her high school sister on the trip. And my guess is, she spent the last year living the college life as portrayed in the movies.

Hannah said, “That part about ‘all have sinned’ stood out to me.”

What?! No one says that. That’s too obvious for even the most superficial of Christians.

Suddenly, I was completed engaged in the discussion. I wanted to know why that stood out to her.

With the faintest signs of tears, Hannah responded, “Because it means everyone has messed up like me and that makes me feel better. It gives me hope.”

I saw two reactions to Hannah from my group; empathy or condescension.

The ones who reacted with condescension really bothered me.

Who did they think they were?

I didn’t say anything because although somewhat fired up, I was still hot and tired…and hot and tired won out.

Then in the middle of the night, I woke up and realized that my empathic response had oozed with condescension.

Although I was moved with compassion for Hannah and her realization that everyone messes up, not just her, as she spoke up, I still believed she must had fallen shorter of the glory of God than I had for that verse to jump out at her.

I was reminded of the story in John 8 where the adulterous woman is brought before Jesus by the Pharisees. Asking Jesus if she should be stoned according to the Law of Moses, Jesus replies “He who is without sin should cast the first stone.”

One by one the Pharisees retreat, dropping and leaving their stones.

I’ve never thought of the Pharisees as empathic, but here it appears that they have empathized with this adulterous woman. They have come to the conclusion that they too have sin. That they too have fallen short.

But unlike the woman who stays at the feet of Jesus, in no way trying to make amends for her sin, they give her a final condescending glance as they walk off being convicted of their sin, they know that they will make a promise never to do that which they have been convicted of again. That they will offer whatever sacrifice is necessary to atone for their sin. They will set up any accountability necessary to keep them from being like her again.

Yet they missed the true Atonement saying, “Has no one condemned you? Nor do I condemn. Go and sin no more.”

So glad it’s all about grace.

When I was a kid, I wanted to be Peter Pan.

I can remember spending hours pretending to be in Never-Never Land with the lost boys playing pranks on pirates and Indians….and let’s not forget the girls…Wendy, Tinkerbell, Tiger Lily and the mermaids…oh, the mermaids.

Still to this day if any version of Peter Pan is on TV, my morning, afternoon or evening is shot.

If I’m honest, there are days now I wish I could fly away to Never-Never Land. A whole lot of days.

Why is that?

I’ve been in counseling long enough to know when I need to be curious about something and longing to be a pre-pubescent boy who wears green tights and plays with fairies is definitely something of which to be curious.

So here I go…

Why do I want to be Peter Pan?

Because I want freedom from wanting to be Jesus.

Wait…what?!

Yep. That’s my response.

I’ve been a youth pastor for 4 years now and up until this point, I didn’t really see a problem with wanting to be Jesus for others. Wasn’t that my job description? Isn’t that what people expect from those in ministry?

Aren’t I called to be Jesus for teenagers struggling with sexual identity, gossip and self-righteousness (just to name a few)?

Of course.

But after 4 years I still don’t understand the intricacies of sexual identity and often feel confused after a student opens up to me about what is going on in his or her heart sexually.

Gossip annoys me, of course, but not enough to really care about it because at least the struggle isn’t sexual.

And self-righteousness makes me wish people dead. Truly, totally, eaten by a crocodile and left as excrement on the ocean floor, dead.

So to be Jesus is exhausting for me.

Jesus offers unconditional love and forgiveness and my love and forgiveness is conditional (see previous statement about self-righteous people).

Jesus offers profound understanding and empathy and my understanding and empathy are quite pedestrian.

And I know this…and you know this…We aren’t Jesus! I know.

But come on, be honest…if you are a religious professional like me…even knowing this, you still want to be Jesus.

So why do I want to be Jesus?

Because Jesus didn’t need to repent.

As long as I am busy fixing things in others, I don’t have to face what is broken in me.

Yep. That’s why I want to be Peter Pan…plus remember the flying, the pirates, and let’s not forget the girls!

Maybe you, like me, need to stop and repent for the reasons you took the job.

Who knew being curious about a ridiculous longing would lead to repentance. I am once again surprised by Him and…

So glad it’s all about grace.

Zach

Did anyone else go into ministry thinking it would save them?

Did anyone else go into ministry believing they would get better…that they would desire sin less…they would look more like Jesus?

I did.

Of course, I didn’t give those reasons in my interview. My reason for pursuing a professional ministry was to do God’s will and to serve God’s people. And I really did want to do those things…but in doing in those things I better get better!

A few months ago I decided I didn’t believe this stuff anymore. None of it. The Bible is a sham. Jesus never came. God did not exist. He couldn’t because if He did exist…I was screwed.

I was just sitting in my office thinking about my life and hit me…I’m not even close to being as good as I thought I would be after four years of ministry. My life doesn’t look the way a pastor’s life should look. In fact, by honestly looking at myself that morning, I saw areas of my life that looked worse than before!

So either God was angry with me (or worse, apathetic towards me) or He didn’t exist.

Those were my only choices and in that moment, for the first time in my life, I chose unbelief. Complete and total unbelief. I’m not talking about some sophomoric doubt here. HE DOES NOT EXIST!

And you know what happened…

I had the most amazing day of rest I have ever experienced!

I left work. It was a beautiful day outside. I found a spot I didn’t think anyone would find me and I lay on a blanket enjoying the Florida sun for three hours. No prayers. No talking to God. No feeling guilty.

I didn’t worry about getting better because there was no one to get better for!

I wasn’t depressed about how I was or more importantly, who I wasn’t!

I could just be me!

I kept wondering why it had taken me thirty years to realize I was trying to please someone who either couldn’t be pleased or who didn’t even exist in the first place?!

Then I read Zechariah 3.

Then I saw Joshua, the High Priest, standing before the angel of the Lord (Jesus) and Satan standing at his right side to accuse him.

The Lord said to Satan, “The Lord rebuke you, Satan! The Lord, who has chosen Jerusalem, rebuke you! Is not this man a burning stick snatched from the fire?”

Now Joshua was dressed in filthy clothes as he stood before the angel.

Wait a second…Joshua showed up in front of Jesus a mess?

He was the High Priest. God had prescribed in great detail to Joshua what needed to be done to stand before Him…all priests knew…and Joshua showed up in filthy clothes? What an idiot?!

Or maybe Joshua understood something that I didn’t. Maybe Joshua believed something that I didn’t.

And then I realized who it was that was angry with me.

The accusations I have heard my whole life were real and were from someone who did actually exist…but I’ve spent most of my life incorrectly identifying to whom that voice belonged.

So then I started thinking…What if we as pastors stood before our congregations in filthy rags?

I guess they would hear Jesus rebuke Satan.

And then we would hear Him say…

“Take off his filthy clothes…See, I have taken away your sin, and I will put rich garments on you.”

So glad it’s all about grace.

Zach

P.S. I believe!

I don’t want to write. There I said it.

The other day I was reading through some of my journals from the past 4 years (during which time I have been making a living as a youth pastor) and I noticed there was one, singular plea over and over again: God use me. Almost every page or prayer contained those 3 words.

I’m done being used. There I said it.

My buddy, Jake (everyone needs a friend like Jake) comes to my office every week and prays with and for me. It has become the most important hour of my workweek. I guard it like I hope to guard my daughter’s virginity throughout middle school…and high school…and college…and early adulthood…well, if I have my way, her whole life. She would make the most beautiful nun. She really would. I’m getting off topic…

This past week I was sharing some of my frustrations with Jake and as he began to pray he kept referring to this image of an invalid who gets so comfortable maneuvering around in his wheelchair that he confidently stands up to walk only to fall down on his face.

I get what Jake was saying, but it just wasn’t connecting with me. I get that just as an invalid constantly needs his wheelchair to move, we as sinners constantly need Jesus to be effective…but that wasn’t my problem. I know I need Jesus. I know my thoughts and my motives and they REALLY need Jesus. (It’s crazy that I still have a job in ministry…you too!)

By reading past journal entries, I saw how obsessed I am with asking God to use me or for Jesus to show up or something like that.

You may say, “Jesus wants to use you! Isn’t that awesome? And it’s a good thing you know you need Him in order to be an effective minister. And it is great that you are constantly asking Him to work.”

Yeah, it is! It’s the greatest rush to feel used by Jesus. To be the conduit by which there is healing and redemption and restoration. To see a glimpse of His Kingdom here on earth as it is in heaven…

But what about when He doesn’t use me?

I’m so afraid that one day He’ll stop using me. One day He’ll decide, “I’m done.”

So today I don’t want to write. I don’t want to be used. Because I’m scared to face reality if it includes God not using me.

In the Gospel of Luke there is a record of Jesus sending out seventy-two disciples to preach the coming Kingdom of God. Luke tells us when they returned; they were filled with joy because “even the demons submit to us in your name.”

Hear Jesus’ response:

“I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven. I have given you authority to trample on snakes and scorpions and to overcome all the power of the enemy; nothing will harm you. However…

Do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”

So glad it’s all about grace.

Zach

• I won’t be able to see what God is doing through me.
• I will feel alone in ministry. No one will have my back.
• I will be overworked.
• I will feel like I don’t work hard enough or good enough or don’t know how to design a ministry that reaches enough students.
• I will feel guilty about any successes.
• I will be kept from being me to the fullest and being used to the fullest for the Kingdom.
• I will be tired.
• I will resent my family.
• I will begin looking for an outlet to escape feeling bad.
• I won’t be noticed.

Most youth pastors probably make a list of goals at the start of each new ministry year. Some of my previous year’s goals have included but aren’t limited to…

• I will capitalize on middle school boys’ desire to be noticed by middle school girls by providing more extreme opportunities for them to eat things which ought not be eaten.
• I will mask my real age with skinny jeans, a way too tight Louie Giglio inspired T-shirt, and a faux-hawk. Maybe even get a wrist tattoo that says something like “Christ’s Warrior” in a hip foreign language like Chinese or Greek or Spanish.
• I will concoct outrageous events with 1,000 hot wings and a chocolate slip-&-slide (if you can get away with the total inappropriateness of that one…it is a sure way to attract teenage boys to your ministry).
• I will be the coolest adult any teenager has ever met…ever.
• I will lead 10 teenagers to Jesus…at the very first youth group meeting.

This ministry year I instead decided to make a list of all my anxieties and fears. And as I look over these two seemingly different lists, I can’t help but notice the idolatry of my heart equally exposed.

Rebecca Pippert observes in her book Out of the Saltshaker and into the World:

Whatever controls us is our lord. The person who seeks power is controlled by power. The person who seeks acceptance is controlled by the people he or she wants to please. We do not control ourselves. We are controlled by the lord of our life.

At the start of this ministry year, let me encourage you, my brothers and sisters in Christ, expose your worst nightmares regarding your ministry to Jesus. Take them to the cross.

• Jesus will work through me and He will reveal to me how He is working.
• Jesus is my ministry and He has my back.
• Jesus is my rest.
• Jesus is designing a specific ministry through me that is reaching His students.
• Jesus has already succeeded on my behalf.
• Jesus called me uniquely for His Kingdom purposes.
• Jesus is my rest.
• Jesus loves my family more then I do and has given me to them for my sake and theirs.
• Jesus is my rest.
• Jesus chose me.

So glad it’s all about grace.
Zach

Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you.
Before you were born, I set you apart.
I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.
Jeremiah 1:5

If you’re a pastor (or especially a youth pastor), do these words make you want to vomit?

Really, God?! You appointed me for this? You intended for this to be my life? This is what it means to be set apart? Really?!

Someone recently told me, “You get paid to do your devotions. You get paid to pursue deep relationships. You get paid to be at church on Sunday morning.”

And then with a chuckle that made me miss Janice from Friends, concluded, “Essentially, you’re getting paid to do what I’m asked to do in my spare time.”

I resent my “calling.”

If one more person makes a joke about me only working on Sundays, I might go UFC on his a**!

(And if another person says it to my wife, I will need to find a good trial attorney because she might go all Aileen Wuornos on his a**!)

I’m done explaining myself. I’m done trying to prove my worth. I’m sick of offering as defense for my week’s work, my tiredness and my kids’ frustration that daddy is never present…even when he is.

No matter how hard I work, I never feel like I am worth what they pay me…which isn’t a lot but still too much because they pay me to do that which we should all be doing anyways.

Why did God call me to this? Why did He set me apart?

I wish He would give me an answer!

So the other day I read Tullian Tchividjian’s new book Surprised by Grace: God’s Relentless Pursuit of Rebels. It was so good. In fact, stop reading this. Go to Amazon and order it. Now. Seriously.

I was just planning on giving the book a cursory scan to prepare for the Steve Brown Etc. interview with Tullian (you should definitely check out the podcast) but three hours later, I had read it in its entirety. Cover to cover. Have you ordered the book yet?

In the book, Tullian demonstrates through the story of Jonah God’s pursuit of rebels. But not simply His pursuit of the rebels of Nineveh or even the rebel sailors who worshiped idols, but the pursuit of the rebel, Jonah.

From page 89…

God is more interested in the worker than He is in the work the worker does. He’s more interested in you than in what you can accomplish. If accomplishing Project Nineveh was all God cared about, He could have discarded Jonah and found a more reliable prophet. He knew Jonah would run; so why did He ask Jonah to go in the first place? It was because Jonah was God’s project. God comesafter Jonah not because He needs Jonah, but because Jonah needs God.

God has given me an amazing wife. Want proof? Go back and read my blog about my first sermon in which I share my wife’s journal from that Sunday. It doesn’t make sense to me that I have a wife like her. But I do!

The other day she told me about an image that came to mind as she was praying for me. It was God and me sitting together on the edge of a dock with our feet dangling in the water and our arms around each other’s shoulders.

That’s sweet, right? But instead of Kelly seeing this somewhat saccharine, Footprints-esque image, what I really need is for Him to answer my question. Why have You called me to this?

Am I missing something?!

So glad it’s all about grace.

Zach

It was late in the evening. I had worked a 14-hour day. We just returned home from a bible study I was leading and I was bracing myself on the other side of the counter looking in at my frustrated wife standing in the middle of the kitchen when it hit me – we don’t have a good marriage.

It was a debilitating epiphany.

Kelly was my girlfriend in 5th grade. I remember thinking how beautiful she was (still is). She had hair that looked like curly fries (still does). We had even gotten in trouble for kissing on the playground. Even though I didn’t grow hair in certain areas until I was in High School, I was still an aggressive 10-year-old. We dated in High School. Married in college. Now eight years and three kids later we stood across from each other confused, unable to communicate and pretty much depleted.

How did this happen?

Hardly a day goes by that someone doesn’t tell us what a great couple we are or how cute our family is.

I felt an incredible numbness. I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to pursue her. I spend 50 plus hours a week pursuing people. That’s my job! When I come home I want to rest. I want a break. I just want to watch TV.

Does she not know that? Have I not shared with her all the affirmation I have been receiving from the people I’ve been pursuing? Does she not know all the good I’m doing? Does she not know that people need me?

How did this happen to me?

My dad owns a commercial tile construction company. During the summers of my High School days, I would work for him. I hated it. But tonight the thought of laying tile, even though it is hard, laborious work, seemed so restful. Maybe if I were a tile-setter I would want to be the “spiritual leader” of my family, because I don’t now. I don’t have the capacity.

Earlier that same day I was preparing a lesson on the feeding of the 5,000. Before Jesus performed this miracle, he asked Philip, one of his disciples, “Where shall we buy bread for these people to eat?” The author then tell us that Jesus already knew that he was going to solve the problem miraculously.

So why did Jesus ask?

When confronted with an overwhelming need or a debilitating epiphany, what’s our response?

Philip’s response was “It would take almost a year’s wages to buy enough bread for each one to have a bite!”

Looking at my 5th grade girlfriend, grown-up and heartbroken, my response was “I can’t fix this and I don’t have the energy to try. At least not right now. I have a few things I have to get done at work first. Right now all I want to do is watch TV.” And that’s what I did.

Standing in the kitchen I knew what my response should be. I still know what my response should be. It’s part of my job to know the right response. But even as I write these thoughts down, evoking pretty s*!tty feelings about myself (please don’t go back and read my previous post…you will all turn on me), I still don’t really want to turn to Jesus with my overwhelming need.

Another of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, spoke up, “Here is a boy with five small barley loaves and two small fish, but how far will they go among so many?”

Jesus said, “Have the people sit down.” There was plenty of grass in that place, and they sat down (about five thousand men were there).

Jesus then took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed to those who were seated as much as they wanted. He did the same with the fish.

So glad it’s all about grace.

Zach

When it comes to writing, I often procrastinate until the last possible moment. Whenever I get an email from Cathy reminding me that my next article for PoopedPastors.com is due, I usually decide it’s time to rearrange the books in my office, cut my toenails, and catch up on my television watching…there always seems to be an episode of Law and Order: SVU on some channel that cannot be missed.

This time when I received the email, I decided I had been negligent about my Facebook correspondence and needed to spend some time “catching up.” While feverishly “liking” people’s statuses, I came across a status my wife had posted on December 26, 2009 at 11:47pm.

Kelly Van Dyke sitting in the front row of an empty sanctuary listening to Zach preach!!!

After spending a few moments thanking God for giving me a wife that would listen to me practice my first sermon into the wee hours of the night, a thought crossed my mind that could lengthen my procrastination.

I know Kelly journals. Maybe she would allow me to post her thoughts about that first sermon for this week’s article.

God loves me. Like many times before, Kelly shocked me by saying “yes.”

As I was listening to Zach practice his first sermon in an empty sanctuary at midnight, I was filled with pride. It wasn’t perfect. And despite working on it and practicing it all day, it was still fifty minutes long. (Zach told me the first time he practiced it, the sermon was an hour and forty minutes long). He still needed to cut twenty. It was late and this was crunch time. He preached his sermon again. We discussed, cut, re-worked and then he preached some more. Still fifty minutes.

I had to come to terms with the possibility of sleeping at the church and wearing my sweatpants and Uggs to the service.

Laying across the front row listening to Zach pray and plead for the Holy Spirit to come and speak to His people, my thoughts began to drift. It was late, nearing one in the morning, it was the day after Christmas and we have 3 young children, I was exhausted. I entered a kind of dream-like state. Not really sure how to describe it but I kind of journeyed through my past, our past.

As a child, I went through communicants class in this church. My dad had been a pastor here for 14 years. I met Zach here in fifth grade. This church, this body, had loved me and hurt me. They took part in shaping and shaking my view of God. They had ministered to me, walked by me, and deserted me. Many times I have had to forgive and others have unexplainably forgiven me. Chills began to fill my entire body and I was overwhelmed by the thought that I just need to rest in the arms of the One who is writing my story, Zach’s story, our story and the Church’s story.

We headed home a little after one, and we both got very little sleep. Zach was up with stomach cramps at four, throwing up at five, and left for the church around six. He left saying, “Never let me do this again! I know God gave me this message specifically for these people, but I don’t want to do it! Next time I am preaching on something that doesn’t expose me. Transparency sucks!” I rolled over and went back to sleep for another hour or so annoyed at my husband’s flair for the dramatic.

Around 7am, I was awakened by my own stomach cramps and an unbearable fear and panic set in. I had to stop Zach! I had to keep him from standing before these people! I had vivid visions of an angry mob. I had to protect him! Now this may sound ridiculous, but for me, in this moment, it was so real. Fear gripped me. I laid prostrate on my living room floor crying and asking God to take this burden, this responsibility, this calling away from us. I grew up as a pastor’s kid and had experienced so much pain from this very church. I have seen too much! It hurts.

I told God, “I don’t want this!”

He then gently reminded me of the prayers He had given me since Zach took the job as a youth pastor. “Lord, less of me. More of you. Use me, please. Use Zach. Let us see Your church and ourselves as You do – beautiful, spotless, forgiven. Give us adventures and let us always say ‘yes’ to the places you are leading.”

I knew I needed to say ‘yes’ despite the pain. ‘Yes’s’ are costly.

Eventually, I placed Zach, myself, my family, and God’s people into His hands…where I know they already were; yet I am so grateful he allowed me the chance to lay them down myself.

I went to the church, prayed with Zach, and then waited restlessly in the front row.

I was too nervous to visit with anyone, sometimes praying, sometimes wondering how Zach was feeling and wishing that I could be filled with peace and joy knowing that my husband was ministering God’s Word.

I began to wonder how all of the other pastors’ wives do this. They always sit poised and smiling. I’ve never seen a pastor’s wife that looked like me- red eyes, biting fingernails, bouncing her knees. Oh well. The moment was here.

As my husband stood up to preach his first sermon ever, I made eye contact with him and gave him the biggest smile I could muster. I prayed, “Ok God, do Your thing. I am ready for the ride. Come Holy Spirit, come.” And He did.

For the next thirty-seven minutes (far from one hour and forty – Praise Jesus!), I sat in awe of the real presence of the Holy Spirit and the impeccable way that He was speaking through the mouth of my husband. I had heard this sermon a few times, but this was different. God had a message for His people and He spoke it clearly, with smooth transitions, poignant illustrations, clutter free and straight to the heart.

After a breathtakingly beautiful sermon, Zach closed, “So glad it’s all about grace. Amen.” I burst into tears.

Zach had said “yes.” And God showed up for him…and me…and our church body. What an unbelievably unique blessing to hear the voice of my Heavenly Father, through my terrified, diarrhea ridden, sinful, and willing husband.

“I know how you feel.” (Don’t say it. Just don’t say it.)

As I was driving to the home of a Ray and Trish and their 5 kids – Daniel, Andrew, Patrick, Caroline and Stephen – four of whom are or have been part of my student ministry, I kept repeating to myself: “I know how you feel.” (Don’t say it. Just don’t say it.)

Pulling up to the home, I was overwhelmed by the number of people that had already gathered in their front yard. People were crying and embracing, walking around stunned. I immediately walked over to a group of students who looked like they had all taken a slam to the gut by a 2-by-4. It had only been 30 minutes since Trish and her 5 kids learned that their husband and dad, who had been missing for the past 24 hours, had taken his own life in a wooded part of their neighborhood.

“Did someone say Zach’s here? Send him this way immediately. The kids need him inside.”

All the sudden, I was being escorted passed all of the friends and neighbors gathered in the front yard…

Why are they singling me out?

Passed the police officer standing guard at the front door…

I don’t know what to say?

And inside the home where I encountered the unedited shock and raw grief that accompanies tragedy. It was at that moment that my calling became real…and painfully convicting.

Pastors are supposed to have all the answers and know the right things to say and do in any situation and to bring hope in the bleakest times. “God works all things for the good of those who love him”…right?

I can’t say that. I don’t believe that. I’m obviously not a good pastor. I’m a “religious professional” who sometimes loves Jesus but more often struggles with God’s goodness and sovereignty…and knows not to say “I know how you feel.”

Why is saying “I know how you feel” so damaging at times like this? The obvious answer being the people who do say something like that usually have no clue and no desire to know how that person feels. But what if you do?

David’s dad died of cancer in the middle of his sophomore year. It was a long and painful battle that turned brutal at the end. Does David know how it feels to play basketball with his dad one day and next find out his dad had taken his own life? No.

But does David know how it feels to be constantly aware that he will never see his dad again…not here at least? Does he know how it feels to watch everyone around him move on while he still struggles daily with the death of his dad?

David knows how Daniel, Andrew, Patrick, Caroline, and Stephen feel.

During his freshmen year, Evan’s parents divorced and his dad moved across the country to Arizona (and this week will be deployed to Afghanistan for a year). Does Evan know how it feels to have his dad die? No.

But does Evan know how it feels to lose his dad…to not have his dad here? Does he know how it feels to walk off the football field seeing dads throwing their arms around their sons’ shoulders saying “That’s my boy”?

Evan knows how Daniel, Andrew, Patrick, Caroline and Stephen feel.

Maybe Satan’s most ingenious lie during a tragedy is “No one knows how I feel…especially God.”

The other day I was reading John 18 (still working on reading through the Gospels for Lent…as you can see I’m almost done!).

When Jesus had finished praying, he left with his disciples and crossed the Kidron Valley. On the other side there was a garden, and he and his disciples went into it. Now Judas, who betrayed him, knew the place, because Jesus had often met there with his disciples. So Judas came to the garden, guiding a detachment of soldiers and some officials from the chief priests and the Pharisees. They were carrying torches, lanterns and weapons.

Jesus, knowing all that was going to happen to him, got up and asked them, “Who is it you want?”

“Jesus of Nazareth,” they replied.

“I am he,” Jesus said.

When Jesus said, “I am he,” they drew back and fell to the ground.

Again, he asked them “Who is it you want?”

“Jesus of Nazareth,” they said.

Jesus answered, “I told you that I am he. If you are looking for me, then let these men go.”

Ray was a good man. He often called me to talk about his kids and what he could do to be a better daddy to them. His suicide has messed me up.

Maybe a day or two after reading John 18, while sitting in my car at a stoplight, I couldn’t shake the images in my mind of Ray in the woods agonizing over what it would mean to continue living in a fallen world. And then an image of Jesus in the woods popped into my mind…and he was doing the exact same thing. He was crying and sweating and shaking. He was sweating blood.

And before the light turned green, I saw Jesus, “overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death”, getting up. He got up!

I still can’t quote Romans 8:28 to Daniel, Andrew, Patrick, Caroline and Stephen, but I can say to them with great assurance that when their daddy got to Heaven, Jesus looked at him with deep tenderness and said, “I know how you feel.”

And only because Jesus got up and walked boldly into the pain of not only the cross but also the pain of Hell, Ray and those of us who believe in His name (and love him sometimes) will never be able to say to Him, “I know how you feel.”

Jesus answered, “I told you that I am he. If you are looking for me, then let these men go.”

So glad it’s all about grace.
Zach

I included the actual names of these deeply wounded people in hopes that you will join me in praying for them by name.

hero – [n.] anyone noted for feats of courage or nobility of purpose, especially who have risked or sacrificed his or her life.

heretic – [n.] anyone who does not conform to an established attitude, doctrine, or principle.

So the other day I wrote that Kay Arthur is teaching heresy on my facebook page.

Now before you post a comment or write KeyLife…

I, Zachary David Van Dyke, am in no way stating in this blog that Kay Arthur is teaching heresy and I will not be using this platform to comment on Kay Arthur and what she teaches.

And I know she has pointed many people to Jesus…every single one of my mom’s friends who are on facebook let me know…and yes, I have read all 40-plus comments that have been posted on my facebook wall about the great, life-changing precepts of Kay Arthur. She is a hero to many.

But this got me thinking…why does it bother us when someone else thinks one of our teachers, leaders or heroes says something that is wrong or false or heresy?

I decided to do a google search that included the name “Steve Brown” and the word “heresy.”

As I read the various articles and blogs that google produced for me, I found myself wanting to cut and paste a lot of the things that my post-menopausal friends had written on my facebook wall. I was outraged at the misrepresentation of my teacher and friend (and unofficial hero), Steve Brown. These “Heretic Hunters” just didn’t understand the context or what Steve really meant. I just needed a chance to explain it to them.

Just as I was about to post a comment I remembered something Steve says often; “50% of what I am telling you is wrong. I just don’t know which 50%.” (This is for the guy who said that those who study under Brown respond with “brownisms” instead of Scripture.)

The other night, I went to hear Rob Bell (a man who has been called a heretic by many of his brothers and sisters in Christ). It was crazy. About 2,000 people paid (me included) $20 bucks to hear him talk for two and a half hours.

The excitement in the theatre was palatable leading up to his entrance and once he made his appearance from the middle of the audience, the crowd went wild.

At one point, Rob asked if anyone was wearing a cross necklace that he could borrow for an illustration. A woman on the 2nd row hurled her cross earring to the stage like it was undergarments at Bon Jovi concert in 1988. (I have never been to a Bon Jovi concert and was only eight in 1988, but I imagine that is what it was like.)

During the event, no one yelled out “heresy” but if they did, there is no doubt in my mind that someone wouldn’t have hiked up his skinny jeans, taken off his spiked belt and started a beat down. Unless of course, Rob reminded him that “Love Wins.”

I got to read a paper a ninth grader wrote for his English class. The assignment was to write about your hero. His paper was titled “Zach Van Dyke.”

Does he not know that I am often mad at God and don’t believe He is good…
that I can give an entire talk at youth group and not believe a word coming out of my mouth…
that I’m a very selfish husband and distracted father…

or even WORSE…

that I sometimes sound antinomian…
that I was moved by The Shack…
that I once posted on my facebook that Kay Arthur taught heresy.

I had a vision as I was working on this blog…not that kind of vision…maybe it would be better to say I started daydreaming about heaven…

I saw Kay, Steve, Rob and I (how presumptions of me) sitting around Jesus laughing about how many times we were so wrong and thought we were so right and thanking Him for being a Hero that rescues “heretics” like us.

So glad it’s all about grace.

Zach

I was working on a cute little article about summer and how as an adult it doesn’t mean what it did as a kid and how as a youth pastor it means non-stop – make sure the fridge is stocked with Red Bull…but then I heard from Him.

Out of the three summers I have been a youth pastor, this by far has been my most successful with the highest numbers and greatest excitement among students. Camp was amazing. Participation in service projects has been phenomenal. Students have taken initiative in speaking the Gospel into each others’ lives.

This has been a hard summer for me. Much harder than the past two.

My summer has been overwhelmingly busy, but not because I have been wasting time sitting at the feet of Jesus. (I still haven’t finished reading all four Gospels – one of my goals during Lent as you may recall.)

My summer has been filled with blatant sin, but not because I believe so strongly in grace and therefore abuse it. On the contrary, I have never struggled so much with unbelief in the grace of God.

My summer has been lonely, but not because I haven’t been surrounded constantly with people who care.

My summer has been hard because God has been silent.

Okay, don’t argue theology with me…God has been silent…you know what that’s like, don’t you?

Yes, I’ve been busy and haven’t been carving out time with Him.

Yes, I’ve been sinning and not repenting…sometimes even enjoying it.

Yes, I’ve been ignoring and avoiding the warm fellowship of other believers.

Yes, all of the above creates a barrier in the relationship between me and God…or does it?

Am I ever still enough…obedient enough…encouraged enough to hear from a holy and perfect God?

Last week at the end of a very busy, sin-filled, lonely day, I went to visit a man who was dying. His name was Scott and he battled cancer for 8 years. I almost didn’t go, because I felt guilty that I hadn’t gone to visit him more often and now that he was about to die any day, I suddenly find time for him.

When I arrived at his house, it was hard to find parking because so many cars were lining the streets. Scott had lots of friends and I wouldn’t be surprised if most credit God’s work in his life to bring about radical change in theirs. In High School and college, Scott and I had a sort of unofficial mentor relationship. Most younger guys who knew Scott even if for only one week would say the same thing.

Encouraged by his wife, I walked over to see him. His hospital bed was in the middle of the living room and around him people talked and laughed and ate. There was so much life in the room, but he looked dead.

I said to him “Thank you for loving Jesus in front of me.” I meant it, but I also didn’t really know what else to say and was still feeling extremely guilty.

He then opened his eyes very briefly and stared at me. He began to speak. It was really hard to understand him. He became frustrated at my inability to interpret his breathy, slurred words, so he called for his wife to come over. He insisted that she raise his bed to a sitting position. He was then facing the group of friends and family on the couches and chairs and strained to get out the words that he so desperately wanted me to understand.

One word at a time he said:

“It…has…been…my…honor…to…represent…Jesus.”

Once he got through every word, he began repeating that sentence over and over and over again each time a little louder than before.

As his family gathered around him with tears streaming down their faces, I moved back behind the bed and I began to pray that God would speak through him to those gathered in the room. Not sure why, God had been silent.

And as soon as I finished praying, Scott called my name, “Zach.”

He struggled to speak and I struggled to understand.

I want to pass these words on to my fellow brothers and sisters in youth ministry, because I think He intended them for you as well.

“It has been my honor to represent Jesus. Now you do that. Love those teenagers. Disciple them and send them out. I love you. Go in peace.”

So glad it’s all about grace.

Zach
2 Cor. 6:1

I really want to smoke weed.

I’ve never once in my 28 years had the slightest desire to smoke weed…until now.

Why now? Why is there an inescapable burning in the bowels of my being to smoke weed?

Because I’m a youth pastor.

Seriously, the reason I want to smoke weed IS because I am a youth pastor. I have racked my brain for weeks trying to uncover where this unmentionable desire is rooted and I can’t think of another reason or other change in my life that would bring about such a yearning. So, I have concluded the blame rests solely on my profession.

It is a hard, at times unbearable, profession…but wait, have I forgotten that I get paid to just hang out with teenagers all day, buy Venti Java Chips on the church credit card and go paint-balling?! (Did I mention I get paid?!)

So why then do most youth pastors last only 18 months?

Doctors and psychologists say that the human brain isn’t fully formed until the age of 22. As youth pastors, we are not working with fully formed humans!

This morning, I was reading in Luke 6 (my goal was to read through all four Gospels during Lent…as I am writing this, Easter has come and gone, and I still have Matthew, John and most of Luke to read) and came across the familiar story of the wise and foolish builders.

I started to think about our calling as youth pastors and what role we would take on a construction site. We are part of the foundation laying team (along with parents, teachers, even peers). Our work doesn’t take place above ground, but below. Scientifically speaking, the building isn’t done for 22 years.

Unfortunately, we are often coerced—maybe even forced—to ignore our role as foundation layers, and we begin to try and do work to which we aren’t called. The building’s façade is not our problem!

The senior pastor wants our ministry to be thriving and relevant (meaning our numbers should be up…even if his aren’t)…

Parents want their kids fixed (not unlike a dog…sex and teenagers is scary…remember…I do)…

We desperately want to be liked (there’s a reason I drive a Jeep and brush my teeth).

We could easily spend all of our time making our students look good because more than likely, as youth pastors who last an average of 18 months, we will be long gone when the storm hits and the foundation or lack thereof is revealed.

Although it may get us fired, I am certain that if the foundation we lay is grace (even with its inherent “risk” of abuse), the building, even if it doesn’t look very pretty, will remain standing long after Starbucks declares Chapter 11 and paint-ball is no longer a fun but painful activity.

I do apologize for the horrible exegesis of this sacred text…just one more reason I am not a “real” pastor, but only a youth pastor.

Unlike Steve who can say to pastors, “Been there, done that and got the t-shirt,” I’m just there.

I hope you will join me and other brothers and sisters “who don’t really work” in the new youth pastors’ forum as we share stories, confess sins and encourage one another. Because what we do matters…a lot. Ask any builder.

See you in the forums!

And if you read an anonymous confession to smoking weed, don’t assume it’s me.

So glad it’s all about grace.

Zach