You're a few weeks into a new job (in this case, a position in youth ministry) and a $200 bill winds up on your desk from months ago.  What will you do?  The initial inclination might be to pass the buck.  Certainly it was not a purchase that you were a part of, nor was it an invention of your own creative genius (benefit of the the doubt, here).  But is there an opportunity here for more?

Same scenario, except this time instead of a bill that has found its way to your desk, a picture of a sponsored child has found its way into a busy drawer that you are working to clean out.  Surely a commitment made by a large group that has failed to remember the longevity of this financial commitment, this child has since falled out of sight, and therefore out of mind.  Again, the first response is to balk; to toss the papers in the trash, along with all the others that rightfully belong there.  But again, is there an opportunity here for more?

In the past few days, moving offices and changing desks has provided me an opportunity to be confronted.  These very situations have arisen, playing on my initial desires to add to my trash while attempting to keep my conscience clear.  But here is what I found.  These papers of financial commitments long-since passed have granted me the opportunity to build trusting ministry relationships in the present.  As of now, we are now, as a ministry, up to date with our T-shirt order and have re-started our relationship with one of our previously well-liked providers.  Also as of a few minutes ago, we have committed to paying current for our sponsored child while still allowing him to be sponsored by another individual or group.  To hear the joy, even in the voice of the operator with whom I was speaking, was enough to challenge those initial desires to plead ignorance that dwell within me.

One of the teachers of religious law was standing there listening to the debate.  He realized that Jesus had answered well, so he asked, “Of all the commandments, which is the most important?”

Jesus replied, “The most important commandment is this: ‘Listen, O Israel!  The Lord our God is the one and only Lord.  And you must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your mind, and all your strength.'  The second is equally important: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.'  No other commandment is greater than these.”

Mark 12:28-31

In his New Testament teaching of the Greatest Commandment, Jesus expresses to religious teachers that it should be their aim to, quite simply, Love God and Love Others.  He is not minimizing the other commandments delivered to God's people through Moses, but rather displaying that all the other commandments are and can be boiled down into these. 

The utmost goal of the Christian today should also be these two commandments.  They should be laced into the fabric of every thought and word.  Every action should pass through the gauntlet of Loving God and Loving Others before there is even a hint of it taking place.  These commandments should be the focal point of every follower of Jesus, and we, together, should hold one another accountable to them.

It is with this in mind that I ponder the impact that is being made on the fundamental principles of the Christian by the technology of the internet.  It is easy to see the potential for Good that comes with a technology that bridges much of the world into a real-time conversation.  It is foolish to immediately and incessantly claim harm on something that creates a venue for the renewing and growth of relationships.  However, it is uninformed to deny the "dark closets" that exist in the million-dollar room that is the internet.

At this point, there are a whole lot of directions to go with the "dark closet" theme in mind, and maybe I'll continue down this path at another time, but I have been struck recently at how the walk and witness of the believer in Jesus seems to encompass every social area of life but that which is on the web.  There is a mean part of us, a selfish and sarcastic part that we have long since buried below a pattern of healthy social habits, that rears itself only when the family computer begins to whir.  I find myself guilty of this.  I desire for my life to be about Loving God and Loving Others, and yet what thoughts I tweet or post on facebook are more about Loving Bob and Hating Others.  My words are often harsh and harmful, and the times when I mean to be genuinely uplifting and encouraging are fearfully few and far between. 

And while I may seem like one sinking in the water, pulling down others at the top, I know I'm not the only one.  My links of social media are filled with Christian men and women typing words that bring death far more than they type words that bring life.  So what can we do?  How do we tame this beast that exists either within the nature of the web or (even scarier) within the nature of our very hearts when we get on the web?  How can we get back to the basics of Loving God and Loving Others, and letting those commandments extend into our new communication technology?

Maybe we just need to get a little UnPlugged.

UnPlugged is a four-part sermon/blog series designed to simplify.  Over the next few weeks, we will be discussing ways to simplify our purpose, simplify our company, and quite honestly, simplify our technology.  The hope is not that we will minimize or eliminate our use of technology, but rather that we will, in the end, possess a plan or set of boundaries that help us Love God and Love Others in the web-arena.

My wife is a first grade teacher.  Day in and day out, she heads off to her classroom  at Granger Christian School and waits on a group of six year olds who look to her for everything.  She loves her job.  She constantly comes home with stories of how her students crack her up or how they've grown over the past several days/weeks/months.

Along with her love for this age range though, my wife carries a bit of anxiety when faced with students a bit out of her typical demographic.  As we've prepared for our new position in Middle School and High School ministry, she has often told me how she isn't qualified to teach this age, and how she's nervous she won't "connect."

I tell you all of this about my wonderful wife so that I might also tell you this:  Yesterday morning, my wife told me of a revelation that she had in regards to student ministry.  I think this revelation is something that you should tell any youth volunteer who exhibits some nerves in taking on a new role.

"Talking to these [Middle School/High School] students about Jesus isn't all that different than talking to my first graders.  The biggest difference is that my students will listen to whatever I say on their first day of school.  These students just need time to know they can trust me before I can seize the opportunity to speak into their lives."

Working with teenagers isn't rocket science, but relationships aren't the easiest things either.  Don't forget to let them "size you up" a bit relationally before you start inserting your voice into the mix of their influence.

Every youth ministry has rules.  Sure, you can be teen-sensitive and call them guidelines.  You can sugar them up to make them seem organic.  There's even a chance that the rules do not limit much more than the law itself.  But in the end, regardless of size and demographic, every youth group has a set of expectations in terms of how students are to behave. 

I'm sitting here in my office on my second day as Avalon's Pastor of StuMin, and I find myself staring at a blank screen entitled "Student Ministry Guidelines."  Now, this is not my first priority.  I have relationships to build and names to remember; There are volunteers to meet and others to recruit.  But as I use this school day in the office for paperwork purposes, I can't help but wonder, where is the balance between a properly guided code of conduct that creates an environment of freedom and openness and a set of expectations that closes our group to students that don't agree with it?

It's been an amazing couple of days here in Gull Lake, MI, where hundreds of students have gathered to see how faith and culture converge for leaders in areas of school, ministry, athletics, and entertainment.  As a Track Leader at conVERGE2012, I've had the opportunity to speak with a few dozen high school students about how to led in their faith within the backdrop of sports culture.  As we sit here in our final group session, I find myself growing in excitement for these students being released to re-engage with their culture.

Have you ever remembered something to such a degree that you were 99% correct in your recollection, but you found out later that there was a 1% that you've been telling wrong for years?  Well, that's what I just realized has been happening to me for 13 years.  Until today, I have counted February 15th as my "re-birthday."  I've believed that it was on that Saturday of 1999, at a teen conference in the suburbs of Dallas, Texas, when I first believed in the power of the blood of Jesus Christ and, in mind and through profession, trusted him as my Savior and Lord. 

I remember so much about that day.  I remember the friends with which I shared the experience.  I remember Chris Tomlin performing.  I remember breaking into a run down the aisle to meet leaders at the altar.  But apparently I didn't really remember the date.

I just looked at a calendar of 1999 and found out that February 15th was not a Saturday.  The Saturday to which my mind has been referring was actually February 13th (So, if any of you are thinking about giving me a cake tonight, please make sure to write "belated" before you write "birthday").  Regardless, it has been 13 years this week since the Lord called me out of darkness and into His wonderful Light.  My ongoing pursuit of Christ has been far from perfect, but it has surely been purposeful. 

I now find myself a spiritual teenager, independent enough to walk on my own, but still walking in recognition of my need for Jesus.  I too often rebel, thinking I know all the answers, but I swallow my pride enough to "go to my room," and reset my priorities with Him.  I pray that in all my days, not just on February 13th (or 15th, if I forget in my "old age"), I always recognize my need to continue my journey in, with, and for Him...

...And I pray that next year, you'd get me a chocolate cake.

Peace,
Bob

I spoke at a ski retreat this past weekend for a group of local churches.  As I often do when speaking to the same group more than once, I opened my first session with a little bit about my own personal journey.  Now, over the years, I've gotten pretty good at doing this.  I recognize that as my story gets longer, there comes a need to streamline the message of God's work in my life, trimming a bit of time from each of my often lengthy tales and fixiating on only a few life highlights.  During my streamlined storytelling this past weekend, I chose for one to highlight my move from Massachusetts to Texas, referencing the year during which it happened, which sent me in a spiral from which I almost ne'er returned. 

My family moved between my middle and high school years.  That was back in 1998.  I remember the trip as if it was yesterday, and I remember a lot about my life from those days.  Still, that didn't fix the shock that came across my face when I realized, upon mentioning the year 1998, that I trekked the miles between Massachusetts and Texas before many of the students to which I was speaking were born.  I froze.  I looked nervously around the room and came up with a joke about how I must be getting old, and I finished by exhaling the words, "how am I still relevant?"

The good news from the weekend is that I finished strong.  I preached as boldly as I could muster, and challenged this group of 12-17 year olds to walking in in the footsteps of Christ.  The bad news form the weekend is that I was haunted, as I venture back into youth ministry, by the question of how I am going to be relevant to teenagers in the years that are still to come?  It took a heart-to-heart with one of my RA's to finally allow me to breathe freely again.

I realize now that the role of a youth pastor is not to be the cool guy that relates to every student.  I never held the illusion that I had to be that guy.  If I was hired on the basis that I was cool, then Avalon Missionary Church is in for a rude awakening.  I believe the role of the youth pastor is to be, among other things, available, accessible, and appropriately cool.  My relevance has nothing to do with how well I share the same lingo or sense of humor, and everything to do with whether or not I am present when 1) I say I will be present, and 2) When I am needed to be present.  It is through a long-term relationship that my relevance in the lives of students and young people will grow when a snapshot of age suggests it will diminish.  It is with this notion of relevance through relationship, that I re-enter excitedly into the world of youth ministry.  Here we go!

Peace,
Bob

During Session #4 of Bethel College's World Christian Action Conference, our speaker Connie Bissen referenced a verse in John 11 when Jesus called Lazarus up and out of his tomb.  While I failed to grasp the direction that Connie took this passage, I did spend a good deal of time reflecting on what implications it has for our lives as Believers.

 

"Then Jesus shouted, 'Lazarus, come out!'  

And the dead man came out, his hands and

feet bound in graveclothes, his head wrapped

in a headcloth.  Jesus told them, 'Unwrap him

and let him go!'"  (John 11:43-44; NLT)

 

While driving back from the airport this morning, I listened to a pastor on the radio speak very frankly about being "born twice."  I don't know his name, nor do I know his church, but I loved how simple he made it:

 

"You're either born once or born twice.

Born once, you're blind.  Born twice, you can see.

Born once, you're lost.  Born twice, you're found.

Born once, you belong to the Devil.  Born twice, you belong to God.

Born once, you're dead.  Born twice, you're alive."

 

As simple as this equation is, I know many of us struggle with what happens in our lives once we are "born twice."  You see, like Lazarus we experience death to ourselves and receive resurrection through Christ.  Too often though, we take off into our lives as newfound children still wearing the cloths we donned in the grave.  We walk around our world as mummies, experiencing life, but we reak of our lives past.  We do not allow the Lord to purge us of all our sinful nature and the things that tempt us backwards.

 

This is why Paul writes to the church in Colossae:

 

"...put to death the sinful, earthly things lurking

within you...You used to do these things when

your life was still part of this world...Put on your

new nature, and be renewed as you learn to

know your Creator and become like him."  (Colossians 3:5,7,10; NLT)

 

So what are some of the cloths draping your body that have been with you since the grave?  Do they exist in the form of relationships or circles of friends?  Are they items or substances that, at one point, you couldn't live without?  Are they possibly things that look very nice and ornate, things that look great in your second life, but things that God has called you to leave behind?  

 

Lord, give us the strength to rid ourselves of these bindings.  If we should lack the strength, give us the humility to ask others to unwrap us, so we may go.  Thank you for this life eternal, for overcoming death, that we may have life.

 

Humbly His,

 

Bobby Morton

"What do you want to do, Bob?"

 

It's a question that I hear from almost every angle.  Whether it is asked by friend or family member; colleague or college student; it is a question that I have wrestled with answering on a regular basis since I stepped away from youth ministry to further my education and pursue ministry at the collegiate level.  I was asked the question again tonight, but none of the aforementioned groups did the asking...

 

Sitting in a seat in Bethel's Everest-Rohrer Auditorium, I was asked by Caleb Bislow to take a moment to "ShushUpAndListen."  Following his sermon on how God moves us towards our mission and purpose, he allowed us time to seek where and how God would have us carry out such a mission.  As I watched student after student make their way to the altar, I began to see they all had one thing in common.  Each student that responded in the moment was a young woman.  Even after a morning session where Caleb rebuked the men of Bethel College for being passive participants in God's world mission, none of them seemed emotionally connected to the message. 

 

Now, I'm not assuming that every man in that place suffered from a stroke of disobedience, or that there weren't individuals responding in the quietness of their hearts and seats, but as Chandler Bing screams during a season 6 episode of FRIENDS, "where are all the men?!"  

 

It was there in that moment, that I remembered the cause for which I stepped away from middle school ministry.  My passion, or rather my burden is for these men who are stuck in a generation of undefined masculinity.  Do I know what makes a man?  Surely not to the extent I'd like to assume.  However, I do know that the men I've been raised in Christ to emulate chose to stand and fight for something, rather than settling for nothing.  It's my prayer that we don't raise and accompany a group, a generation, or a gender of settlers.

 

This ends my random thought of the night.

 

Humbly His,

 

Bob Morton

It feels good to sweat. I'm sitting outdoors, post-workout, in 90 degree heat, wearing a hooded sweatshirt with the sole purpose of feeling myself sweat a bit more...<< MORE >>