Garbage. . .

We didn't know we had a mess until it was moving day. Actually, we knew full well that we had a mess. . . we just kept ignoring it until moving day.

It was the year before I was married and I was living in a rental home with three other single guys. We were existing in a state of forced thriftiness as none of us had much money. A couple of us were doing campus ministry. One was a student. The other was just looking for the best way to save money. The house was nice. It even had a detached two car garage. . . which came in handy. . . or so we thought.

We were cheap. Since garbage collection cost money, we put it off and put it off. We figured that between the four of us, someone would know somebody who would be willing to combine our garbage with theirs once a week. But we never got around to it. Instead, we kept filling the large plastic bags and stacking them in the garage. Not only were we stockpiling our own trash, but the constant flow of visitors and pizza parties most likely multiplied our stuff x 2. When moving day arrived and we were all parting ways, we had to face reality. We had literally filled one side of that garage with what had become several truck loads of bagged rotting and stinking garbage. Suddenly, there was no looking the other way. We had to deal with it. The pile was imposing and after loading all our stuff into separate trucks, nobody had the time, energy, or ambition to undo something that was going to make the landlord flip.

I thought about this earlier this week when I read the new story about the father and son from Mastic Beach, NY who found themselves facing $20,000 in fees and fines after authorities removed about 42 tons of trash from their property. As I was reading the story I shook my head in disbelief, wondering how a couple of guys could be so stupid. Then I remembered that I knew exactly how a few guys could be so ignorant.

Not only was I part of a similar instance of ignorance, denial, and foolishness myself almost thirty years ago, but I realized I've been pulling the same stunt ever since. Filthy smelly sin gets pushed aside, hidden, and ignored. "Some day," I say to myself, "I'll get around to dealing with it." But someday never comes.

The same newspaper ran a front page story about a former school secretary who worked at a local Catholic school. A 47-year-old woman, she stole more than $163,000 in tuition money from the school. She knew what she was doing. She knew it was wrong. She kept on doing it. The judge who sentenced her to 1 to 2 years in prison told her at sentencing, "You didn't stop doing this on your own. You were caught." She was filling her "garage" with "garbage," and somebody came along and pulled up the door to expose her filthy little secret. Stories like that sure do make you stop and think, don't they? They make us wonder about the secrets we harbor because we just haven't gotten around to dealing with them. Someday never comes. . . until the someday it's all exposed.

The Scriptures are filled with admonitions to put off our old selves and to put on Christ. The Apostle Paul tells us to "put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature" (Col. 3:5). What follows in the next verses is an inventory of garbage that tends to get heaped up in our garages. The great wonder of Christianity is that Christ does this for us.

For those of us Christ-followers who are older, you know what I'm talking about. We've all been there. . . and still live there. And, we've got to deal with it. We should be concerned about ourselves. But we should also be concerned about the generations that follow. I'm seeing a growing number of those who are younger who embrace the label "Christian" who don't even bother to hide the stuff in the garage. Now remember, those who hide it are no better than those who don't. But this changing reality is indicative of a subtle cultural shift that we must see, understand, and address. Young Christians are now sinning boldly, and they don't seem to care. Or, many of them are proudly wearing the garbage like clothing, not even knowing that what they're wearing stinks. And when they're told, they still don't care.

The answer to all this. . . for me, you, and those who are younger. . . is to be washed daily (as one of my seminary professors used to tell us) in the Word. I believe that more and more each day. In his latest book, Uncommon, Tony Dungy offers a simple bit of advice that has served to remind me of the answer to the problem. In his "Keys For Your Full Potential" Dungy says, "What is down in the well comes up in the bucket." I think the answer lies in what for years has been called "Christian Education." That's what fills the well as it is pursued individually and engaged in corporately as the Body of Christ cares for its young and for each other. I don't think it's any coincidence at all that as Christian Education has faded as a priority, wells have been filled with nothing but fluff and garbage. Then, we see the aforementioned cultural shift picking up steam.

We've all got to deal with the rotting pile of stench in the garage. And, I'm hoping that we'll help the emerging generations sharpen their declining sense of smell.

Should I Retire? . . . .

Did you happen to catch the cover of yesterday's Parade Magazine? It was right there in my Sunday paper yesterday morning where it always is, buried in the weekly stuffing made up of colorful sale flyers advertising all kinds of stuff I'm told I need. The words splattered across this Fourth of July weekend edition caught my eye: What Makes America Great. The featured headline hasn't yet made me open Parade and read the article, but it did get me thinking further on a thought-track God's been leading me down for several months.

I would guess that while our answers might differ, most Americans would include the word "freedom" somewhere in their own personal explanation if they had been given the task of writing the Parade article. I certainly would. The freedom to worship, to examine ideas, and to express one's beliefs rank up there at the top of my list.

But what was sparked in my mind was a more negative response. Granted there are many things that make America great. But those very things that we say make us great can also be at the root of our demise and even failure if we don't exercise prudence and responsibility with the blessings and freedoms we've been given. At times, we abuse our freedoms when we aren't responsible stewards of what we've been given. Lest we forget, responsible stewardship starts and ends with Kingdom living. What God values as great is not always the same as what Americans value as great.

That Africa trip is sticking with me. When I looked at Parade's cover I thought about the great economic freedom we've been given, and the blessings that have been piled on many of us. Then, I thought about the new seminar I'm preparing for this fall's National Youth Workers Conventions. It's about teenagers and narcissism. In fact, I did an interview last week where the interviewer asked me about the most alarming trends present in today's youth culture. I started with narcissism and we never moved on to anything else. Which got me thinking about one of the books I'm reading right now - Tim Keller's Ministries of Mercy: The Call of the Jericho Road. Keller writes about our human nature and the things we choose to focus on in life: "God's 'center' is his own glory; he does everything because it is consistent with his own righteous, holy, perfect nature. We, however, 'center' on our own glory. Therefore, there is an inevitable collision between God and man." What I'm realizing is that what makes America great, could be the very thing that makes America and Americans bad. We have because God has given. Yet, we hoard because we're focused on ourselves.

If this wasn't enough, our youth pastor, Troy, preached yesterday. It was one of the best and most challenging sermons I've ever heard. It was the first in a series of sermons on money, possessions, and Kingdom-living stewardship. Troy's text was Luke 12:13-21. It's the passage we know as the Parable of the Rich Fool. Give it a read. As Troy read the text the cover of Parade came to mind. My house came to mind. My kids came to mind. My greed came to mind. Africa came to mind. Our Compassion child Ibrahim and the squalor he lives in came to mind. Then, there was this fact from the parable. . . that a "man's life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions." In addition, there was the reminder of a more Godly perspective on life. We store things up in preparation to take care of ourselves in the future. We get enough, and then we say "take life easy; eat, drink, and be merry." I couldn't help but think, is retirement as we know it, embrace it, plan for it, look forward to it, and practice it here in the U.S. biblical? I don't think so.

Something happened during our time in Africa that was like throwing gasoline on the simmering fire of questioning and trying to figure out my greatly-blessed lot in life. Over the course of our trip, several of us confessed to the struggle we were having with our origins. We were asking things like "God, why was I born where I was born? Why were my kids born where they were born? And why have we been given so much?" There was some guilt as well. The answer to these questions were given to us in a very obvious can't-miss-it manner. We were sitting at the Compassion project in the midst of the Mathare slum. I described that horrid place back on June 3. The pastor was talking to us about the work they were doing there in Mathare and thanking us for our interest and support. At one point he told us that he wasn't going to beat around the bush but be very direct. "We pray that God will continue to bless you with great riches. We know that if God blesses you with great riches, you will pass it on to us and continue to support our work."

That's why I was born where I was born. And America will only be great if I understand and live out that fact. Otherwise, the God I claim to follow and serve will one day look at me and say, "You fool!"

Almost 20! . . .

For this blog entry, I'd like to step out of the normal routine of talking about culture, faith, and life, to talking about CPYU. Tuesday of this week will be a day to look back and say "thank you." Wednesday is a day to look ahead with great expectation. June 30 is the end of our CPYU fiscal year. We close the books on the previous twelve months. For me, it's always been a time to ponder what great things our faithful God has done for us and through us during the previous year. This year is no exception. We're a bit behind budget, but that has not stopped us from doing what we've been called, charged, and equipped to do. CPYU continues to provide up-to-date information and analysis on contemporary youth culture from a distinctively Christian perspective. The year has flown by, but it's been a great ride.

On Wednesday, we open the curtain on another year. July 1 of this year is especially significant as it marks the beginning of our 20th year in ministry. I can hardly believe that CPYU has been around for two decades! I continue to marvel at what God has done in spite of us. As in past years, I'm not at all sure what lies ahead during the next twelve months. It's always a surprise. I do know that in just a couple of months we will be announcing another new resource from CPYU.

So today, as I think about CPYU, who we are, where we've come from, and where we are going, I want offer gratitude to God. In addition, I also want to say thanks to all of you who have used our resources, supported us financially, and kept us in your prayers.

It's my hope that we would continue to keep our single-minded focus here at CPYU. That said, could I ask you to pause and pray for us today? Thanks.

Soli Deo Gloria

When Celebrity Dies. . . .

Another clump of celebrity deaths. . . and they all played some type of role in my childhood and young adult years. I hadn't thought about any of them at all until their names hit the news this week.

First, there was Ed McMahon. I thought Johnny Carson was a funny guy. He was especially funny when he picked on his sidekick Ed. It was even funnier when Ed would lay a zinger on Johnny. Whenever I could, I'd stay up late watching these guys in search of a good laugh. They'd deliver. More recently I'd travel down memory lane through the Carson DVD's my kids got me as a gift a few years ago.

Then, there was Farah Fawcett. I don't remember ever watching Charlie's Angels, but I have to admit that as a young twenty-something guy I certainly knew who she was. I remember that best-selling poster hanging on a few dorm room walls back at Geneva College. My college yearbook bears testimony to Fawcett's influence on pop culture. Just take a look at the hairstyles on lots of the coeds.

Finally, there's Michael Jackson. I loved the early version of the guy. I can still remember with great clarity the first time I heard his music. I was in 8th grade at Huntingdon Junior High School outside of Philly. It was a rainy day and after school I had walked around the corner to my buddy Bruce Lutz's house where we were to be working on a joint Social Studies presentation. Before, during, and after working on that project we kept lifting the needle on the family's record player and starting over on a little 45 featuring The Jackson Five. The song was "I Want You Back." The music was fast, catchy, fun, and infectious. I was amazed that the voice I was hearing came from a kid a couple of years younger than me. It was even better to see Jackson and his brothers perform on The Ed Sullivan Show. Those infectious, high-energy hits kept coming, and today, that music transports me back to Bruce's living room and that time in my life. After those early years, Michael Jackson lost me. But don't use me as the benchmark for his following. We all know how big it grew.

As expected, the deaths of the two former stars have been eclipsed in the media by the death of the latter. It's all over the television and the Internet. Shrines and memorials are popping up all over the world. This guy was big. He'll most likely be the Elvis of the generation that follows all those Elvis followers. But as I watch the response to his death, I can't help but wonder about what this very talented and equally odd entertainer meant to so many people. What left such massive holes in their lives that they looked to Michael Jackson to fill? Celebrity is a very, very strange phenomenon.

But other thoughts have been provoked by these deaths for me. I am reminded that while our lives on this earth take a variety of paths, they all end the same way. It doesn't matter how much or how little one has in terms of money, fame, and attention. The heart eventually stops. Solomon pondered these realities in Ecclesiastes. If we watch the lives of the people who we look to as the bars we hope to reach, the last breath always comes. . . . and it's always the same. That would certainly become more real to us if we were somehow able to witness the last sixty seconds of each of these lives. Life on this earth ends and it's never pretty.

I'm reminded of how we need to view our lives not in terms of the number of days starting with our birthday and ending with our last breath, but from eternity to eternity. All of us are part of a bigger story. It is God's story. Chapter One is titled "Creation." It begins with the eternal God who made all things out of nothing. Those "all things" were made perfect and for His glory. Chapter Two is called "Fall." It begins in Genesis 3:6 as all things come undone due to human rebellion and the desire to do things our way. Sadly, Chapter Two is also about the results of the fall, including spiritual death, the sufferings of life, and physical death. But thank God that His story includes Chapter Three - "Redemption." Immediately God in His mercy and grace puts into place His plan to undo what's been done by our rebellion. For those who have embraced the God who has embraced them and entered into Chapter Three, there is the hope of Chapter Four. "Glorification" awaits all those who are in Christ as once and for all those "all things" that came undone are restored to what they once were. . . . and whether we know it or not, all creation longs and groans for that day. If you're unfamiliar with this story, it's laid out in wondrous and engaging ways in the book we all call The Bible. I know that it's an amazing story to live in. . . and the older I get, the more deeply I can't wait to get to the end. . . which is really a new beginning that will have not end. In addition, I grieve for those who never get beyond Chapter Two before their heart stops beating.

Late last night I was sitting and watching the news about Michael Jackson's death. My 16-year-old came into the house and immediately asked, "Hey Dad. Did you hear about Michael Jackson?" "Yep," I answered. Then he asked, "Where do you think he is?" I couldn't answer the question with any certainty. God is, after all, a whole lot bigger than me. What I could remind him of are the words of the Apostle Paul regarding those who have embraced the God who has embraced them and entered into the Chapter Three life of following Jesus. In Philippians 1:21, Paul says, "For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain." This reality gave Paul confidence to say that for those who are in Christ, to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord (II Cor. 5:6-8).

Today, we are reminded of these realities. Thanks be to God.

So This Is Who We Are? . . .

I suppose these are things I already knew. I just didn't know it was so bad. I'm still trying to process it all. It's come to light as I've been forced to deconstruct and understand traffic to this blog and the comments people are leaving. It's made my head spin and I'm trying to figure it out.

From May 6th until June 3rd I was blogging about our trip with Compassion International to Rwanda and Kenya, the poverty we saw, the deep needs we encountered, and the plight of hurting people. . . particularly children. I pondered our God-given responsibility to "the least of these." In response, I received some great notes of encouragement from people who were being challenged as we shared how we were challenged. Some - a handful - left thoughtful comments on the blog. Others even stepped up and sponsored children through Compassion International. Then, on June 4th I shifted gears and expressed some long held thoughts about the "reality" TV show Jon & Kate Plus 8. In response, 200 comments of all shapes, sizes, and flavors have already been posted. Some are nasty. Some are nice.

Ok. . . think about this for a minute. . . .several blogs on tremendous need in the world. One blog on a reality show about a family falling to pieces. The Africa blogs more or less fell through the cracks in terms of response. The other one. . . well, it's off the charts.

If you don't believe me, I've been checking the traffic for each of the blogs. The blogs on our Compassion trip generated an average of a couple hundred visitors a day. The blog (singular) on the Gosselin family has generated tens of thousands of visits. Yesterday alone 7,300 people logged on to read that blog.

So now my head is spinning as I'm trying to gather my thoughts, understand this all in light of our culture-at-large, and try to figure out what this says about who we are. As I've processed the terribly imbalanced traffic flow and wide variety of comments here's what I've been thinking - and asking - so far. . .

1. We're more interested in obsessing over celebrity than we are over the great needs of people in the world.

2. I remember hearing Tony Campolo talk about the dangers of money, sex, and power back when I was just out of college. We can add celebrity to that list. Tony was simply communicating Scriptural truths about the idols that destroy us. Like others in all times and all places, we're still not listening. We continue to bow down. We're killing ourselves. . . and we don't even know it. History repeats itself.

3. Biblical illiteracy is at epidemic proportions here in America. It's at epidemic proportions both inside and outside the walls of the church. We've created a "god" and a theology in our own image. Personal opinion oftentimes trumps God's Word.

4. Are people hearing solid Biblical theology and teaching in their churches?

5. Are people serious about integrating their faith into all of life? Have they even been challenged and equipped to do so?

6. Are people interested in thinking Christianly and critically about all of life? Have they even been challenged and equipped to do so?

7. When will we begin to understand that no, life is not about me?

8. When will get our eyes off of ourselves, realize how damaging divorce is to everyone involved (especially the kids), and do everything in our power to live out our marital vows?

9. When will we start to pay to attention to our Maker, His will, and His way? When will we realize that life is about living to the honor and glory of God?

10. What can a serious look at our history teach us about where we've failed in youth ministry? In other words, what have we done to contribute to where we're at as a culture?

I've found it all very troubling. I hope that each of us will take a long hard look at our world and our selves through the eyes of the postings, the comments, and the traffic. What does it tell you?

Too Much Shakin Goin On. . . .

The Friday death of John Houghtaling conjured up a pop culture memory that's appropriate to recall during Father's Day weekend. You see, Houghtaling was the inventor of a delightful little device - at least I thought so - that I was deprived of ever experiencing during my childhood. . . thanks to my Dad.

First, a little trip down memory lane. Like many kids who grew up during the 1960s and 70s, we took summer vacations by car. The family sedan (and there were many of them. . . . most without air conditioning), would be loaded to the gills and we would head down the highway for what some years was a three day drive south to Florida. The antidote to the discomfort of three days with three boys stuffed in the backseat took many forms for me. There was license plate bingo. See how many of the states you can get on the drive down. That game might last into Maryland. . . not too far on a drive from Philly to the Sunshine State. There was the letter game, a little trick my mom would pull out of her bag to quell boredom. In this game, passengers get a point for each visual they spot outside the car that coincides with a letter of the alphabet. . . all done in alphabetical order. Finally, there was the fun of spotting the signs for South of the Border. Pedro always said we were getting close. Padre always said that we weren't stopping.

But there was nothing that eased the pain of the trip like the stops. Lunch was always at a fast food joint. Sometimes we'd sit and eat. If we were already "making good time," we might even eat while driving so that we could get further down the road than our planned overnight stop. They were the best stops. The motel. Here's how it worked in our family: The first motel criteria was the coveted AAA rating. Second was a good price with "kids stay free" attached on the end. It couldn't be - in his words - "highway robbery," which by the way, I don't ever remember actually experiencing. A Color TV, air conditioning, and a pool always made it that much better. This is how it went down in our family: We'd stop. Dad would pull in and go to the office while the rest of us waited in the car. He'd get a key and check out the room. If it passed his inspection, we were in. If it was questionable, mom would get out and give it a look. There were times when we'd pass on a place and head down the road to find something else.

Finally, we'd find a place to sleep for the night. Bedtime came fast as my dad needed his sleep since he had done almost all the driving - which to this day still amazes me. But I can remember that almost every motel room we ever stayed in had that little gray box by the bed that would catch my eye as soon as I'd cross the threshold. It was the little gray box invented by John Houghtaling. Remember the Magic Fingers? That's Houghtaling's invention that promised "15 minutes of tingling relaxation and ease". . . something I thought I desperately needed but never had the joy of receiving. First, the doggone thing cost too much. . . at least that's what my parents told me. It was twenty-five cents. Second, it was dangerous. . . at least that's what my parents told me. I'm not sure what the perceived danger was, but I remember it having something to do with the electrical cord running to the outlet and the possibility of electrocution. . . the chances of which might have been increased by our family's earlier visit to the motel pool. By the way, the "electrocution" and "dangerous" reasons were also regularly used whenever I wanted to ride the electric pony or fire engine outside of the grocery store.

Redemption did eventually come. I believe it was while I was in seminary. Lisa and I took a little trip with another couple. Too poor and cheap to secure individual motel rooms, we wound up sharing a double-double. Imagine my surprise and delight when we crossed the threshold and there was the grey-colored box attached to one of the beds. Immediately, I claimed that bed as ours. I couldn't wait. Finally under the covers with my quarter in hand, I dropped it in the Magic Fingers machine. What happened next was anything but magic. It was 15 of the most uncomfortable minutes of my life. My seminary buddy just laughed. Lisa climbed out of the bed to find 15 minutes of relaxation and ease next to the bed. I tried hard, but I couldn't make it stop. My childhood dreams, which should have been coming true, were shattered. It was like jack-hammering concrete while laying down.

So, if nothing else, John Houghtaling gave me some great memories. If only my dad had let me try the thing when I was little. . . I wouldn't have wasted so much time! You know what. He was right about it. You know what else he was right about? The grocery story pony. I finally rode one of those when I was in college. And it wasn't all it was cranked up to be. Thanks Dad!

Parenting Secrets. . . .

There's a funny little story that gets told around our house every Father's Day. It's about something that happened in our family on a Father's Day about nineteen or twenty years ago. It was a beautiful Father's Day afternoon and our little family (only three kids at the time) was sitting at the kitchen table having lunch. Caitlin, Josh, and Bethany had just given me their homemade Father's Day gifts. . . the best kind!

After making a big deal over these simple little gifts that were loaded with love, I asked the kids a question. "Do you know what the best thing about being your Dad is?" I can't remember what the answer I wanted to them to come up with was. I think it was something like "I get to love and spend time with you guys!!" I simply wanted them to know how much I loved them. But before I had a chance to fill in the blank with the real answer, little Josh got an excited look and big smile on his face, indicating that he had the correct answer to my little quiz. He looked at me with a big smile and excitedly said, "Spanking?!?"

Now before you start thinking that I excessively spanked my kids and/or actually enjoyed it, think again. Oh, there were those times when discipline in our house took that form. In hindsight (no pun intended), I don't think my spankings were effective in the least bit. That's what my kids tell me. I know that to be a fact because anytime this story is brought up, what ensues is a discussion of how Dad's spankings were a joke because they didn't hurt. In fact, my kids laugh at me about those spankings today.

Josh's answer was an indication that even at a young age, Josh was simply being Josh. He's still funny like that.


This coming Sunday (Father's Day), we'll reminisce again. That story will no doubt come up. And, I'll most likely recite my litany of things that I most enjoy about being a dad. Greatest among all those things is the sacred trust of four children that I've been given by God. What an amazing gift. I hope and pray that I have been, am, and will continue to be a Dad who has exercised wisdom and good stewardship in my handling of this human trust. I'm also painfully aware of my shortcomings and failures over the years. . . of which there have been many.

Over the years I've relied on loads of outside help and advice as I've endeavored to fulfill my fatherly role. My dad's words and example, input from fathers I've know, and some very helpful books have all contributed to the well of paternal wisdom from which I hope I've drawn. One of the voices that's spoken most clearly into my life is that of Paul Tripp. If you're around me long, his name always seems to come up. In a world full of "experts" who are ready and willing to dispense parenting advice, Paul Tripp is the cream that has risen to the top. He would humbly argue that all he's done is passed on wisdom that's been passed on to him. Still, he's been a big help. Many of you have taken my recommendation and read his wonderful book Age of Opportunity: A Biblical Guide to Parenting Teens, which is in my opinion, the best parenting book ever written.

Whether or not you've ever heard of Paul Tripp or partaken of his parenting wisdom, I want to direct you to something that I think is pure gold. It's an interview with Paul that was conducted back in 2000 by some folks over in Austrailia. I recently ran across this little treasure and was, as always, personally challenged as a dad, and very impressed. So impressed, in fact, that I decided to reprint the entire interview in our Summer 2009 edition of Engage. This is a freebie from CPYU that's can be viewed and downloaded here.


In celebration of Father's Day and as a gift to all the kids you know and love (even if they aren't your own), download this edition of Engage and give the article - "What is Success in Parenting Teens?" - a careful read. Then, pass it on to other parents. If you're a youth worker, this could actually serve as your Father's Day gift to the dad's of the kids in your group.

It's my hope and prayer that in a world that's ready to totally twist us around in our understanding of what it means to be a successful parent, this interview with Paul Tripp will help us understand the real truth about the best thing about being a dad. . . or a mom!