I was at a recent youth fellowship feedback session and when it was time for Q&A, a teen stood up and spoke his mind. His voice was slightly shaky but he was sincere.
If I may discern the central theme of his question (or concern), it was this: "How about us?"
You see, he knows what the church wants. It was clear to him. She wants young leaders to be faithful to the call of the Great Commission - to grow and multiply.
But yet, I still hear his cry, "What about us?"
He knows that the church wants their members to be trained in the word, led by the spirit and to grow from one level to the other. This was told to them in no uncertain terms with such urgency that you cannot doubt her sincerity.
But yet, I still hear his cry, "What about us?"
He knows that the church is behind them on this, to arm them with what they need, to suit them up with one training session after another, to beef up the gap and inspire them with more inspiring sunday sermons over the pulpit.
But yet, I still hear his cry, "What about us?"
He knows the church is serious about their spiritual welfare and growth. He understands the heart of the church to desire firm and strong leadership that bears fruits through the disciplines of the word.
But yes, I still hear his cry, "What about us?"
And last but not least, he knows he is not alone in this sacred responsibility granted to him by the church leadership.
He knows he has all the support from the church and the latter is readily prepared to shore him up, to build his confidence.
He also knows the church with its decades of experience and library of resources will be at his disposal as and when it is called to do so.
The church leaves him no doubt that there is a firm, if not entrenched, system in place built over the decades, unchanging and unwavering, to produce results both in quality and quantity.
But well, you know what is coming, and yes, I still hear his cry, "but, what about us?"
When I had a heart to heart talk with the teen leaders, at least for that brief moment, the feeling I got was that they were highly valued by the church, and the church has no doubt got their back.
But it is not just the backing that they need, first and foremost, which is no doubt readily available. It was however a cry for more authenticity. And mind you, one youth leader actually used that word on me when I spoke to him (I shudder a little at it because it resonated with me deeply).
Another told me that it felt like it was more transactional than discipleship training.
It was like you are trained to go forth to bring the people in, to fulfill the Great Commission with studious diligence, and then, when the pen is full (so to speak), the appointed inspector will proceed to count the sheep and ensure that they are multiplying, that is, growing in numbers.
The beauty of such growth as seen by the perspective of the church is that it leads to a certain validation of one's effort and that in itself is a validation of their faith, their belief and their loyalty to the call of the Great Commission.
In the end, it is all about the Great Commission, which ought to spur on the Great Commitment, and from there, the faithful believer is expected to produce the Great Numerical Confirmation and then go on to reach out even more to reap in the Great Harvest.
That is the complete Scriptural order of things, and it is undoubtedly awesome to witness as the church blooms and grows, and it clearly shows.
Alas, while the cry of their heart is, "What about us?", my plea however that evening was this: "Is there a disconnect?"
You see, most times, it is not a generational gap that should concern us most, but a generational "we-know-best" that widens the gap even further without us even knowing it.
Jesus had no doubt asked us to go out there and make disciples. But I always ask, to what end then?
That is, why are we making disciples for? What results do we hope to achieve? Is our validation in faith as a leader a validation based on the number of sheep we earnestly fill in the church pen?
Of course not. The church is not that myopic. The heart of the church is never about the church of numbers. It is never about filling it up first and then worrying about how to keep them in later.
It is never transactional in nature. It is on the contrary transformational in scope, depth and height.
If the heart of worship is to return to the heart of the one who first started it all, the one who first commissioned us to go out there to make a difference one life at a time, then the heart of the church has never changed.
The calling is the same then and now. Her heart is to touched lives, one soul at a time, and nothing more.
It is a heart-to-heart relationship just as Jesus did for just twelve of his disciples before he persevered on to fulfill his father's will. And just as His kingdom is established within us for a dear price, so it is there - in our hearts - that His kingdom should take root and grow to impact lives thereafter.
And if the kingdom within us does not grow apace, what purpose then does it serve for us to build the kingdom that is seen by the world in all its majesty, but the heart of His kingdom within us is struggling with this cry, "But what about us?"
As I left the feedback session, I kept thinking about the cry of that youth's heart. I kept thinking how we the older leaders earnestly want to help them, to show them the way, to provide them with everything they need to make their cell grow, that is, to produce results that they can be proud of, and then be inspired and empowered to pass that on to the next generation of leaders before them and to the next in a legacy or model that truly works.
Just about that moment of disquiet, I realised I too had the same cry, the same cry that cuts all generations: -
"But then, what about us? What about me?" ...cheerz.
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