Flashback Friday: The Sit In

Last week at this time I was visiting old friends and reconnected to some of my Quaker roots in North Carolina. To say things are a bit tumultuous among Friends there is a massive understatement. There will be more written about that here in the days to come, but today those thoughts led me to this Friday Flashback, first shared here in 2009. Enjoy.

The early 1980's were a strange time to be a 20-something, socially concerned seeker/christian trying to find his way in the world. In November 1980, Ronald Reagan was elected and my roommates and I strongly considered moving to Canada (just so you know, this was not simply politics; I was a registered republican at the time and I voted for John Anderson, a republican who ran as an independent. It was just that Reagan scared us to death!). In December 1980 John Lennon was shot and an icon of the peace and justice movement was dead. By 1982 Reagan had declared it was "morning in America" (which was true if you happened to be white and have money) and the country was on an extreme conservative swing. Worse, at least for me, was that the church was becoming completely immersed in politics. Jerry Falwell and the Moral Majority and Ralph Reed and the Christian Coalition had been a great help to the Reagan campaign, and now they were using their power to urge congress to pass more "christian" legislation. On the national stage Christianity became less about what Jesus taught and more about conservative politics. And if you dared disagree with them, you were quickly declared both unchristian and un-American, which they saw as the same thing. For example, the Moral Majority worked tirelessly against the re-election of Sen. Mark Hatfield of Oregon, despite the fact that he was one of the most outspoken evangelical Christians in the Senate. His flaw? He was for disarmament and a World Peace Tax Fund. To paraphrase the great Tom Lehrer, "it takes a certain amount of guts to get up and speak out on behalf of peace and justice and brotherhood and all the other things those people are against!" Strange days indeed...

In the midst of these changing times, Quakers in North Carolina were changing too. For years, the Young Friends (7th-12th grade students) of NC Yearly Meeting had been primarily led by students who went to Quaker Lake for summer camp, many of whom also attended New Garden Friends Meeting. (For those of you who are regular readers, you will know that those are the two ministries I worked for at the time, so I was double trouble!) This began to shift in the early '80's as the leadership at the top of the Yearly Meeting began to change and reflect the political climate of the day. When the position of Youth and Christian Education Director for NCYM came open, the search committee went outside of NCYM, passing over several local candidates and hiring David Tebbs from Ohio. Over the next few years David and I disagreed on many things, but I always had the ultimate respect for him as a leader and as a Christ-follower, and eventually we became good friends. At about the same time, Jerry Cannady was installed as the new head of the Young Friends Activities Committee, which controlled the planning for all NCYM youth events except Quaker Lake summer camp. Jerry was a large, angry pastor who had no interest in youth- he was put in place to put us (the Quaker Lake and New Garden crowds) in our place. He did not have our respect on any level, and he made it clear he didn't like us at all. A showdown was inevitable.

The showdown came at Yearly Meeting (a once a year, statewide gathering of Quakers), August 1982 at Guilford College. For several years part of the program had been the showing of the Quaker Lake slideshow from the the recently completed summer camping season. The campers who also attended this event looked forward to it, and others came in just for the slide show presentation. On this particular occasion, the slide show was the last event of the day on the next to the last day of the sessions. For those who attended camp, the slide show was often a very emotional event, and this year was no exception. At the conclusion, before anyone connected with QLC could say anything, Jerry Cannady jumped to his feet and announced that it was time for everyone to go back to the dorms, and that there was to be total silence as we did so. We were stunned. No time to visit and chat about what we had just experienced. No time to go back through the slides and take them in more slowly, without the soundtrack. Jay Osborne, the Presiding Clerk (that's Quaker for chairman or president) of the Young Friends spoke up and asked if those who wanted to could watch it again. He was told NO in a most unpleasant way. As people began to get up and leave in silence, Jay and I did not move. Neither did many others. Jerry began yelling at us and using some distinctively un-Quaker language, demanding that we get out and go to our dorms. And still we sat there. A long, ugly discussion ensued that let us know in no uncertain terms that things were changing. Those of us who found our expressions of faith more in seeking, peace, equality and the radical teachings of Jesus were now being dictated to by those who saw everything in black and white; and we had just been declared part of the darkness.

I don't really remember how it all ended that night; I don't think we saw anymore slides. My own theology and beliefs, so young at the time, have certainly changed since that night. But what I really remember is my good friend Jay Osborne, age 17 or so, (yes, the same Jay who would one day drop my guitar off the roof of the QLC lodge!) staying seated to "stand up" for his beliefs and his friends. I was proud to sit with him and all the others. It didn't ring a bell at the time, but today it is not lost on me that our little "sit-in" took place in Greensboro, home to one of the great and powerful sit-ins of the civil rights movement. But the real heart of the story is this- many of "those people" who left as we sat took the time later on to talk to us, to lovingly share their side of the story and to seek a middle ground. Many of them would become my friends and co-workers in the years that followed. Quakers have never been and will never be homogenous, being a wildly diverse (and often quite confusing) group in theology and worship styles. But historically they have always been willing to seek consensus and work for the greater good in God's name. It is my most fervent prayer that my old friends currently embroiled in difficult circumstances in NCYM will remember that fact and remember that the love of God is not based on theology, styles, finances or politics. God loves us all. Even the people who are not like us... 

Because of Jesus,

Throwback Thursday: Unexpected Results

Today's Throwback Thursday takes me back almost exactly 15 years, to 1999 and a crazy time in my life. I was struggling with my work at the First United Methodist Church of Kissimmee, having been working with The Pastor Who Shall Not Be Named for a couple of months. I was adrift and searching for a new job. Months earlier I had agreed to a speaking engagement that now seemed a bit daunting. Having been away from the Society of Friends and North Carolina for 5 years, I was asked to return to NC to speak at Young Friends Yearly Meeting, a statewide gathering of middle and high school aged Quakers. Going home is always a little scary, but I would be riding back into town like a returning hero. What could go wrong? It turned out to be an amazing weekend- but in ways that were totally unexpected!

I planned to take a group of students from FUMC-K with me to Guilford College for the 5-day event, but God had other plans. The weekend before we were to leave on a Wednesday, my leg was bitten by a Brown Recluse spider, and it turned purple and blew up like zeppelin. I was able to make the trip, but unable to drive, so I went by plane and had to leave the youth at home. My spirits were dampened yet again, as I had hoped to share this event with these people who had been so important in my life. In truth, I should not have gone either. My leg was a mess, my head was a mess, and just walking was difficult. But there was a place to catch...

The first few days are just a blur in my memory. I remember getting to play guitar with Martha Ratledge Farlow for the adult Yearly Meeting session honoring Quaker Lake. I remember speaking and leading music for the Young Friends, and feeling terribly uninspired about my performance. Nothing felt right or seemed right, and it felt like I was disappointing those who were counting on me. On the final night of the event, I had been asked to speak at a gathering of Friends at a meetinghouse in western NC. All of the youth and adults from the Yearly Meeting sessions had been bused in, plus there were numerous other adults joining us as well. It would be a chance to say important things, to inspire a gathering of people that I cared about very deeply. I had prayed and struggled over what to say to this gathering for weeks in advance, and now it was show time.

Quakers are a remarkable group, full of tremendous spiritual depth and historical significance. They are also a fiercely independent group, and it is often difficult to get two Quakers to agree on anything. Tradition is not only an important part of who Friends are, it is often the battlefield on which heated discussions take place. I had decided to try and nudge this group towards the 21st century. I spoke of being Roaring Lambs, of allowing our lives to speak to others in the name of Jesus at work, on the ballfields and in our communities. I spoke of being willing to take risks and to quit being a denomination that insisted of protecting the past when it might be limiting the future. I told the story of the confident Polish generals in World War II who sent their strongest battalions to the border to face down the invading Germans, fully expecting that they would win the day. The Polish soldiers- on horseback- met their enemy head on. The Germans- in tanks- rolled past them and conquered Poland. I wanted these friends to realize that regardless of history and tradition, Quakers could not ride into the new millenia on horses while the world ploughed ahead with tanks. The message of Jesus is the same today, yesterday and forever. How we communicate and deliver that message has to evolve, morph and change so that it reaches the ears of those who need to hear it. Many Friends, young and old, stood in the open worship that followed to speak to the truth of what I had said, and the worship was quite deep and emotional that night. God was present, and the Holy Spirit was speaking to us all.

In the hours, weeks and months that followed I was told over and over again how God had used me that night. The audio tapes of my message became popular items, and old friends I had not seen in years contacted me to let me know how much they appreciated the things that message. So much of my time that week was spent trying to figure out why God would allow that spider to bite me. There was much wasted time feeling sorry for myself that things were not going as planned. But in the end, God used the one thing I turned completely over to Him to His glory and helped me understand why I had been called back to NC in the first place. We should never forget this basic truth- God is good all the time...

So the event that almost didn't happen became one of the signature events of my entire ministry. Who knew? Besides God, I mean...

Because of Jesus,

Throwback Thursday: A Youth Ministry "Oops!"

Let me begin by saying that it seemed like a good idea at the time. Simple, innocent and funny is what we were going for. In retrospect, it was probably doomed to disaster from the very beginning. This story is true, although my memory may be faulty. If you were there, please comment with your additions and corrections!

David Tebbs, the Youth and Christian Education Director of North Carolina Yearly Meeting in the mid 1980's was leaving that position at the end of the 1987 FUM Triennial Sessions. After a rocky start, David was someone I had come to like and respect a great deal. He was a strong Christian and someone who had brought great spiritual depth to the youth programs of NCYM. David was also someone we loved to harass. His shy, conservative demeanor and his appearance reminded us of the great Pat Boone (without the white shoes!), and he embarrassed and blushed quite easily. It seemed to us that we needed to give him a proper farewell at the end of Triennials, and if we could see that famous blush, so much the better!

The "we" in this case consisted of Tom Klaus from Iowa Yearly Meeting and Brent Bill from Western Yearly Meeting- and myself. Both Tom and Brent held the same position as David in their respective Yearly Meetings, and both were published writers who held a level of respect among the Quakers gathered in Greensboro that week. I was just hanging out with them because I had known them for a while and because we had way too much fun when we were together. The three of us brainstormed what we could do to "get" David, and somehow, at someones suggestion, decided to bring a belly dancer into one of the final sessions of the event. My memory is that Tom made the call (and since I know Brent reads this on occasion, I will place the blame on Tom) and ordered the dancer. He explained that this was for a pastor, in front of a couple of hundred young people, and that it was imperative that she be a G-rated belly dancer. It was all set, and we were excited to see just how red David's face could be!

We met the dancer backstage and she looked great- a true belly dancer with all the bells and whistles!  We again confirmed who she was there for and that it needed to be a conservative performance. We sat David in a chair, made some sort of introduction, and brought her out. There were hoots and hollers, and David turned bright pink before she ever started. But then she began to dance- and our jaws dropped. If this dance was G-rated, we DID NOT want to see PG!  She was all over David, and the atmosphere became very tense. From off stage the three amigos began sharing with each other how much we had enjoyed youth ministry and discussing what our next careers might be. It was awful. We looked out at the crowd, which was divided into three camps. The youth were loving it. The adults who had come over for this special occasion were mortified. David's wife was ready to faint. As it all ended, we considered making a break for it before the lynching started, when a small miracle saved us. David's father, Jack, a well respected pastor himself, was standing, laughing and clapping. Others who had been planning our demise also began to smile. Even David's wife was laughing. Our jobs (and lives) were spared!  We were forgiven to the point that Brent came and spoke for the youth of NCYM that August, and I went to Iowa to speak the following summer. But for a few minutes, we thought it was the big OOPS...  As it turned out I had years to go and many smaller "oops" to experience before the big one. And to David Tebbs, wherever you are, I hope someone is reading this to you and making you blush!

Because of Jesus,

"I'm Sorry, Facebook"

Let's start with this admission- I don't do Facebook.  I have never had an account and I am not likely to anytime soon.  Marilyn (my wife) has had one for almost 4 years now and I keep up with most anyone I care to keep up with on her account.  She loves it, especially seeing the pictures of all the babies being born to our former youth group members all over the country and keeping up with her hometown friends from Elkin, NC.  But for the most part, when I check out her page, it just aggravates me.  I love my Twitter, and often find myself in agreement with those who say, "Facebook is where you "like" people you know and wish you didn't. Twitter is where you follow people you don't know but wish you did."

Then this past weekend Facebook threw me a curve.  Mike Newsome, an old friend that I worked with at Quaker Lake Camp back in the late 1980s, discovered this blog. As he read some of the Quaker Lake stories here he began to search for old friends on Facebook. In the process he discovered some old QLC pics that had been on Marilyn's page for a couple of years now and began tagging people and making comments.  For the rest of the week, there was an explosion of activity from people I had not seen or heard from in many years on my wife's page.  These old friends, many of whom were instrumental in the path my life took both as a person of faith and as a youth pastor, were suddenly back!  It was incredible.  There were even people I didn't even know commenting on 35 year old pictures and talking about all the memories they brought back.  This ancient 1978 QLC summer staff picture got the most attention:

Staffers, relatives of staffers and people who had barely met these staffers stopped by with "likes" and comments on this and other pics.  It didn't take long for talk of a reunion to pop up.  Seeing that folks like Mike (back left), Lynn Farlow Ossman (striped shirt) and Alice Carroll (front row, third from left) had stopped by was just so exciting.  And Susan McBane Tuggle (front right) kept the conversation going with comments all over the place. It was simply wonderful. This blurry staff pic from 1980 (which apparently I took, since I am not in it) also got lots of attention, and had many of us asking the "Whatever happened to ?" questions about so many.  It also made me miss so many other NCYM Quakers who I have not seen in years in a big way.

And then this great pic of Martha Ratledge Farlow taking part in an old school QLC tradition- being stuffed in the pot sink (by Carl Semmler among others)- was visited and commented on by her sons Carl and Jacob and her sister Nan.  The fun just kept on coming!

So I am left with the realization that perhaps Facebook can make a positive contribution to society after all. Maybe it is not just endless memes, outlandish drama and uninformed political commentary.  Perhaps there can be more to Facebook than meets the eye.  I always try to admit when I am wrong, so I want to issue an apology. "I'm sorry, Facebook, for all of the mean things I have said about you. Thanks for a wonderful weekend with old friends."  But I am still not opening an account...

Because of Jesus,

Winter Camp, 1982

"Back home, I spend my summers; Back home, I spend myself..."

Winter Camp, 1982- The Barrington Bunny gang!

In my late teens and early 20's Quaker Lake Camp was not just a place I worked in the summer; it was a place of sanctuary for me and my friends.  When life was stressful and we needed to "get away" we would call camp director Neal Thomas and ask if we could come down and spend a night or two.  When the forecasters called for a big snow, we would drive the 25 miles to QLC hoping to get snowed in there.  There were times when I would drive down and just walk around by myself, exploring the woods and visiting the Campfire Circle.  In many ways, Quaker Lake was home.

So when all of the politics and turmoil that were the North Carolina Yearly Meeting of Friends in 1982 came to Quaker Lake the week after Christmas for the annual Winter Camp, I was nervous.  And I was not alone.  There was great debate at New Garden Friends Meeting (where I was a part time youth leader) as to whether or not we should even take our youth.  But we did.  And while the program and speakers were very different than what we were used to, it was not awful- until the last night.  The speakers/musicians they brought in for the evening spent an hour telling us all we would burn in hell if we didn't respond to their invitation to give our hearts to Jesus.  Many of us came from backgrounds that taught us that following Jesus was a life-long spiritual journey inspired by the Light - the Holy Spirit. This was a pressured, spur of the moment decision that seemed more about the leaders than it did about Jesus.  We were not even given any time to sit in silence (as was our habit) and pray about our choice.  So we didn't raise our hands.  And the leaders became angry.  They again reminded us that if we didn't act at that moment, hell awaited.  I was distraught; the 14-17 year old students from a similar background were horrified.  I wrote a song late that night that tells the story; few have ever heard it, but I share it with you now. The opening tag is at the top of this posting, the rest is below.  It's called Back Home.

As evening fell one winter night, I sensed that something was not right

with the people and the place that I had come to know so well

I looked for faces that I knew as shadows crept across the room

I looked up and it seemed as if no one I knew was there

and I bowed my head in prayer

The question they shared in the end asked if Jesus was my friend

but the answer didn't matter, 'cause I would not raise my hand

I felt that eyes were now on me, and what I feared had come to be

Outcasts in the place we loved, in the place we called our home

and we felt so all alone

Chorus:  But we know, yes we know, that our friends aren't far away

And we know, yes we know, that no matter what these people say

the LORD will find His way...

I sat still in deep despair of all that they were saying there

trying to get my courage up and say "that's just not true"

As I reached out for the Light, I knew could guide me through this night

it seems I finally understood what it really means to pray

for the LORD to show the way

CHORUS

A dim fire gave me just the light to see if what I feared was right

to see if all was really lost, and would have to leave our home...

But instead we reached out on that day and without a sound began to pray

and with that bond of unity we would not be denied

you see the LORD was by our side!     -C. Jones  (1982)

That moment- when the crowd was breaking up and many of the youth (and not just my own from New Garden) gathered around me, could have been a time to complain, stomp out or just give up.  But in that moment, God moved in us, and we knew just what we needed.  As we held hands and prayed silently, our emotion and fervor was every bit as intense as that of the speakers.  Other adults from NCYM could see that, and they left us alone to pray.  There were a dozen times over my years in student ministry when I felt like Jesus just stepped in and took over, joining groups in a miraculous, tangible way.  This was the first of those times- we could feel the Holy Spirit in the circle, holding our hands- and spiritually, I was never the same again. The struggles over theology and style would continue, and New Garden sent a strongly worded letter to NCYM asking for more balance in programming.  But for those of us who had been in that circle, we knew we had encountered the living Christ amidst the struggle, and it would not seem so scary anymore.  Once again, Quaker Lake had become a sanctuary to me...and that would never change.  Everyone needs a place to call home.

Because of Jesus,

"Into Every Life a Little Rain Must Fall"

Over the past week I have been dealing with the sadness and frustration of the passing of my former youth Sally Hollingsed.  Sally lost her battle with cancer at age 31, and it just seems so blatantly unfair that one so young should be taken from us in such a horrendous way.  But we all know people we have lost way before we were ready to lose them.  The emotions I have felt reminded of the following episode in my own life from many years ago...


In the Spring of 1989 a group of us including myself, Marilyn, Jeff Byrd and Doyle Craven got tickets to see Amy Grant and Michael W. Smith in concert in Chapel Hill, NC.  Amy was featuring songs from her Lead Me On album, while MWS was touring in support of his i 2 (Eye) project.  We were all so excited to go.  Plus, Doyle had a brand new Ford Probe he was dying to show off...

Our excitement turned to sorrow very quickly when we received word on the day of the show that our dear friend Penny Thomas had passed away.  Penny had worked at Quaker Lake Camp and had been very active in the youth programs of NC Yearly Meeting of Friends.  She had also worked with chronically ill children on the pediatrics ward at Duke Hospital. Penny had been very sick for a long time, and only a few days earlier we had been to Duke to see her.  Her passing was not unexpected, but it still hit us all very hard.  She was so young, so faithful and such a blessing to be around.  Her laughter was contagious, and she was loved by everyone who knew her. Doyle and Jeff had both been especially close to her.  We debated whether or not we should attend the concert, eventually deciding that there was nothing we could do at that point, and that Penny would want us to go. In so many ways, she went with us that night.

Even in our melancholy state of mind, the concert was excellent.  We all knew the music of the two artists so well, and we all shared one unspoken thought as the night went along.  One of the songs on Michael's most recent CD was called I Hear Leesha.  The song was about a young girl who had passed away, and it mourned her loss.  It also spoke of the hope Christians share that there is more to life that what we have on this earth.  The chorus says, "I hear Leesha singing in heaven tonight.  And in-between the sadness, I hear Leesha, telling me that she's alright."  I think secretly we all were praying that he would not sing it.  But he did.  As we looked at each other with tears flowing, I knew it was one of those moments in which Jesus was working in each of us.  I knew it was a feeling I would never forget. The song still gives me goosebumps...

A few days later I attended Penny's funeral.  Jeff Byrd sang at the service, and I have always thought it was one of the bravest things I have ever seen anyone do.  He was hurting, he was saddened, and he didn't really want to be doing it.  But he knew he had to.  Filled with the Holy Spirit, he sang beautifully and with passion, sharing both his love for Penny and his faith that Jesus had indeed "prepared a place for her."  

Being a follower of Christ is not all flowers and rainbows.  There are struggles, tragedies and moments of doubt and fear.  Every time I listen to I Hear Leesha I am reminded that "into every life a little rain must fall, and losing one you love is like a storm." I am also reminded that in the midst of the darkest parts of life, Jesus is there to give us light and life. The storms do pass.  And our loved ones- people like Penny and Sally- find comfort in a far better place. Thanks be to God...

Because of Jesus,

Friday Flashback: The Great Hickey Search

hick-ey   [hik-ee]  –noun.   Slang.  A reddish mark left on the skin by a passionate kiss.

The summer of 1987 brought the Friends United Meeting (FUM) Triennial Sessions to Greensboro, NC.  For those not familiar with Quaker "alphabet soup," FUM is a worldwide organization of Quakers that gathers every three years for business and worship- thus the whole triennial name!  This particular gathering was of special interest to me for several reasons.  It was in our backyard, so it was a great opportunity to experience the grand diversity that is Quakerism.  There would be silent Quakers and dancing Friends and everything in between!  It was also the first Triennial to have a full-blown youth program rather than the typical "baby-sitting" that goes on at these large adult events.  The youth (teenagers) would meet and stay at the Greensboro Airport Marriott (pictured), a very nice hotel.  There would be speakers, musicians and comedians brought in especially for youth.  I had been asked to lead the music at worship times and in the general sessions.  I looked forward to bringing some students from Springfield Friends Meeting and enjoying the event.

The youth program had been planned by a committee of youth workers from around the country, made up primarily of people who held the kind of Yearly Meeting position that I had previously held in New England.   Friends of mine such as David Tebbs, Tom Klaus, Doyle Craven and Brent Bill were among the leaders.  The on-site leader of the event was a man named Steve Pedigo, who led the Chicago Fellowship of Friends.  The FOF was a youth based church begun with Young Life style youth program in one of the worst projects in Chicago- Cabrini Green.  Steve, his wife Marlene, and a number of their youth had made the trip to Greensboro.  I had worked with Steve before at Quaker Lake Camp, and knew the circumstances of his ministry.  Once I had some 10 year old FOF kids in my cabin at QLC, and one night some of the other kids started showing their scars from bike wrecks and skate boarding accidents.  The kids from Chicago showed us their bullet wounds...

Needless to say, Steve saw things in a different light than those of us who spent our time working with mostly white, middle class students.  This different point of view is what led to the long night now known as The Great Hickey Search.  All of the youth participants had boarded buses and headed out for a night of Putt-Putt.  As we returned to the Marriott, Steve was standing out front greeting everyone and telling them to head straight for their rooms.  As he did this, he spotted a teenage couple of the back of one bus, where they appeared to be (in the words of Harry Potter) "snogging."   Steve was outraged.  As everyone stood up and began to exit the bus, he could no longer determine who had been in that back seat.  He called all of the adults together and informed us as to what he had seen.  He wanted the offenders brought to justice that night.  When we asked him how we were supposed to know who had been involved, he told us that from what he had witnessed he was certain that the young lady would have a hickey on her neck.  It was 11 PM or so, and he gave us all a task: Find the hickey, and the young man who had given it.  Tonight!  The Great Hickey Search was on...


We entered the Greensboro Airport Marriott  on a wave of confusion.  The youth were headed to their rooms completely unaware of the door-to-door search that was about to happen.  The adults were primarily split into two camps.  One group was gung-ho and ready for the search.  Those kissing culprits had to be brought to justice!  The rest of us thought this might be the single dumbest thing we had ever been asked to do.

The first group was represented (in my mind) by two sisters from Nahunta, NC.  Jean and Janet Edgerton were unknown to many of us when the event began, but that did not last long!  The Edgerton's were loud and forceful, and quick to take control.  In later years they would both become dear friends of mine and great leaders in the youth programs of North Carolina Yearly Meeting.  Jean's early death a number of years later was a tragedy for so many in NCYM.  But at this point, all I knew was they were going door-to-door searching for a young woman with a hickey, and they were doing it with the passion of Empirical Storm Troopers looking for Princess Leia.  And they were not alone.  Other adults were banging on doors and checking necks as the clock passed midnight.  It was quite a scene.

The second group was represented by myself and Terry Venable.  Terry, his wife Leigh Ann, Marilyn and I were sharing a room that week (Youth Minister = Poverty!).  At first we just went into the room, but as the commotion continued in the halls outside, we went out to watch.  The scene was surreal.  Sensing that "lights out" was not happening for a while, students began to order room service.  They were getting munchies and non-alcoholic frozen drinks, such as Virgin Daiquiris.  Terry and I were laughing so hard at these kids paying $6 for a glorified Slurpee!  The real show, however, were the "interviews" taking place in the rooms of the participants.  The guys were asked if they had kissed anyone that evening.  They girls were asked to show their necks.  It was incredible.  Eventually, Terry and I just slumped down on the floor right outside our room and waited.  Soon we were being visited by youth, many of whom were afraid that the "villains" were going to be sent home- or worse yet, sent to Iowa!  We walked around and visited the rooms of youth we knew well and made sure they were OK.  We listened to confessions from couples who were hickey free but had been kissing and were afraid they were in trouble.  Then we went to bed.  Jean and Janet were still searching, still chasing kids back to their rooms, and still patrolling the stairways when we gave it up for the night.  To be completely honest, I have no idea if anyone ever found a hickey that night.  In 28 years of student ministry I was never part of anything quite as ridiculous as The Great Hickey Search.  The event- FUM Triennials for youth- continued to be a rousing success despite this strange evening.  Even the ill-fated belly dancer (read that tale here) couldn't keep this event from being something that was changing the face of Quakerism for many of those present.  Hickeys and all...


Because of Jesus,

"Back Home"

Most of this post originally appeared in October of 2009.  I repost it today because many have never seen it, and it speaks to the amazing influence of Quaker Lake Camp in my life.  Remember, this blog turns 2 on Friday!


"Back home, I spend my summers; Back home, I spend myself...

Winter Camp 1981

In my late teens and early 20's Quaker Lake Camp was not just a place I worked in the summer; it was a place of sanctuary for me and my friends.  When life was stressful and we needed to "get away" we would call camp director Neal Thomas and ask if we could come down and spend a night or two.  When the forecasters called for a big snow, we would drive the 25 miles to QLC hoping to get snowed in there.  There were times when I would drive down and just walk around by myself, exploring the woods and visiting the Campfire Circle.  In many ways, Quaker Lake was home.


In 1982 the politics and turmoil that was the North Carolina Yearly Meeting of Friends came to Quaker Lake the week after Christmas for the annual Winter Camp. I was nervous.  And I was not alone.  There was great debate at New Garden Friends Meeting as to whether or not we should even take our youth.  But we did.  And while the program and speakers were very different than what we were used to, it was still a good experience- until the last night.  The speakers/musicians they brought in spent an hour telling us all we would burn in hell if we didn't respond to their invitation to give our hearts to Jesus.  It seemed to be less about our faith and more about them.  Many of us came from backgrounds that taught us that following Jesus was a life long spiritual journey, not a pressured, spur of the moment decision.  We were not even given any time to sit in silence and pray about our choice.  So we didn't raise our hands.  And the leaders became angry.  They again reminded us that if we didn't act at that moment, hell awaited.  I was distraught; the 14-17 year old students from a similar background were horrified.  I wrote a song late that night that tells the story; few have ever heard it, but I share it with you now. The opening tag is at the top of this posting, the rest is below.  It's called Back Home.

As evening fell one winter night, I sensed that something was not right

with the people and the place that I had come to know so well

I looked for faces that I knew as shadows crept across the room

I looked up and it seemed as if no one I knew was there

and I bowed my head in prayer

The question they shared in the end asked if Jesus was my friend

but the answer didn't matter, 'cause I would not raise my hand

I felt that eyes were now on me, and what I feared had come to be

Outcasts in the place we loved, in the place we called our home

and we felt so all alone

Chorus:  But we know, yes we know, that our friends aren't far away

And we know, yes we know, that no matter what these people say

the LORD will find His way...

I sat still in deep despair of all that they were saying there

trying to get my courage up and say, "that's just not true"

As I reached out for the Light, I knew could guide me through this night

it seems I finally understood what it really means to pray

for the LORD to show the way

CHORUS

A dim fire gave me just the light to see if what I feared was right

to see if all was really lost, and we had to leave our home...

But instead we reached out on that day and without a sound began to pray

and with that bond of unity we would not be denied

you see the LORD was by our side!     -C. Jones  (1982)

That moment- when the crowd was breaking up and many of the youth gathered around me, could have been a time to complain or give up.  But in that moment, God moved in us, and I knew just what we needed.  We gathered silently in a circle and began to pray.  As we held hands and prayed silently, our emotion was every bit as intense as the evangelical fervor of the speakers.  Our leaders could see that, and they left us alone to pray.  There were only 6 0r 7 times over the years when I felt like Jesus just stepped in and took over, joining groups in a tangible way.  This was the first of those times- He was in the circle, holding our hands- and spiritually, I was never the same again. That night I went from being a Youth Leader to being a Youth Minister.  The struggles over theology and style would continue (and still continue today), and New Garden sent a strongly worded letter to NCYM asking for more balance in programming.  But for those of us who had been in that circle, we knew we had encountered the living Christ amidst the struggle, and it would not seem so scary anymore.  Once again, Quaker Lake had become a sanctuary to me...and it was still home.

Because of Jesus,

Youth Ministry Heroes: Tim Vestal

My Hero

My dear friend and former student Ashley Goad Broadhurst departs today on another mission trip to Haiti, and I am her prayer partner for the day.  Please join me in praying for her!


Today I want to tell you about one of my heroes of Youth Ministry.  His name is Tim Vestal (pictured- I confess to swiping this from his Facebook page), and unless you are a Quaker living in North Carolina you may never have heard of him.  He hasn't written a book.  He doesn't speak at national conferences.  He doesn't do podcasts and he's not on Twitter.  He's not even really Batman- at least not as far as I know.  He is simply a youth pastor who has dedicated his life to serving teenagers in the name of Jesus.  And nobody does it better.


For over 20 years now Tim has served local churches (only 2 in all those  years) in NC.  He has often been a Youth Pastor, Children's Minister, Choir Director and Sunday School/VBS guru all rolled into one.  His youth groups thrive and grow because of his faithfulness, creativity and dedication and willingness to share his life with his students.  But that's only one part of Tim's story.  I first met him when he was a student himself, one of the leaders of the Young Friends Yearly Meeting (conference youth) in NC.  Since those days he has been involved with a youth choir called Serenity.  This is an ever-changing group of youth that gathers from all over the state for 2 weeks each summer- one week to rehearse and one week to tour.  In fact, they are touring even as I write this post.  This group has toured for 29 years now, and Tim has participated in 24 of them (according to his wife).  And for the past 19 years he has been their director.  In addition, for many years he has led the Young Friends Activities Committee that plans numerous events throughout the year for the conference, including a winter camp called Youth Tremors and the annual Yearly Meeting each Fall.  He does these things because he loves teenagers and he loves Jesus.  He does not get paid for these conference events;  they are his passion.  And I can tell you from personal experience that there have been literally hundreds of youth (including some of my own) over the years who have been impacted by his work outside of his own church.  Tim Vestal is a ministry superstar.


I have known Tim for many years and consider him to be a dear friend.  We shared many great moments at the National Youth Workers Convention over the years (see The Banana Splits).  He brought me to NC as a guest speaker several times and we always had a blast.  I know that he is an expert on the Muppets.  I know that you rarely catch him without a toothbrush somewhere on his person.  I knew of his feelings for his lovely wife Sarah way before she became his lovely wife Sarah.  :)  I have loved him as a friend for a very long time.  But it has only been since my ministry ended that I have realized that Tim is my youth ministry hero.  And here's how I know- I wish so badly that my son could be in his youth group.  He does it well, and he does it right.  He's the most creative person I know.  He has built so many relationships and helped so many students discover the love of Jesus.  So here's what I want you to do today- whether you know Tim or not, I'd like for all of you to be praying for Tim and Serenity.  Better yet, leave an encouraging word for Tim as a comment here and I will make sure he gets them.  The world of ministry could do with fewer celebrities and more Tim Vestals.  In fact, now that I think about it...maybe he is Batman. Tim has a special place in my youth ministry Hall of Fame!


Because of Jesus,

Unexpected Results

Many of my earliest experiences in youth ministry came as a direct result of my involvement with the North Carolina Yearly Meeting of Friends.  In many of the older posts on this blog you can read how that group of Quakers shaped my life and influenced me in many ways.  In 1999, having been away for 5 years, I was asked to return to NC to speak at Young Friends Yearly Meeting, a statewide gathering of middle and high school aged Quakers.  It turned about to be an amazing weekend- but in ways that were totally unexpected!

I planned to take a group of students from FUMC-K with me to Guilford College for the 5-day event, but God had other plans.  The weekend before we were to leave on a Wednesday, I was bitten by a Brown Recluse spider, and my leg turned purple and blew up like zeppelin.  I was able to make the trip, but unable to drive, so I went by plane and had to leave the youth at home.  I was very disappointed, as I wanted them to share in this event with these people who had been so important in my life.  In truth, I should not have gone either.  My leg was a mess, I had very little energy, and just walking was difficult.  But I went anyway...

The first few days are just a blur in my memory.  I remember getting to play guitar with Martha Ratledge Farlow for the adult Yearly Meeting session honoring Quaker Lake.  I remember speaking and leading music for the Young Friends, and feeling terribly uninspired about my performance.  Nothing felt right or seemed right, and I felt like I was disappointing those who were counting on me.  On the final night of the event, I had been asked to speak at a gathering of Friends at a meetinghouse in western NC.  All of the youth and adults from the Yearly Meeting sessions had been bused in, plus there were numerous other adults joining us as well.  I had prayed and struggled over what to say to this gathering for weeks in advance, and now it was show time.

Quakers are a remarkable group, full of tremendous spiritual depth and historical significance.  They are also a fiercely independent group, and it is often difficult to get two Quakers to agree on anything.  Tradition is not only an important part of who Friends are, it is often the battlefield on which the strongest discussions take place.  I had decided to try and nudge this group into the 21st century.  I talked of being Roaring Lambs, of allowing our lives to speak to others in the name of Jesus at work, on the ballfields and in our communities.  I spoke of being willing to take risks and to quit being a denomination that insisted of protecting the past when it might be limiting the future.  I told the story of the confident Polish generals in World War II who sent their strongest battalions to the border to face down the invading Germans, fully expecting that they would win the day.  The Polish soldiers- on horseback- met their enemy head on.  The Germans- in tanks- rolled past them and conquered Poland.  I wanted these Friends to realize that regardless of history and tradition, Quakers could not ride into the next millenia on horses while the world attacked with tanks.  The message of Jesus is the same today, yesterday and forever. How we communicate and deliver that message has to evolve, morph and change so that it reaches the ears of those who need to hear it.  Many Friends, young and old, stood to speak to the truth of what I had said, and the worship was quite deep and emotional that night. God was present, and the Holy Spirit was speaking to us all.

In the hours, weeks and months that followed I was told over and over again how God had used me that night.  The audio tape of my message became a popular item, and old friends I had not seen in years contacted me to let me know how much they appreciated the things I had said.  I spent so much time that week trying to figure out why God would allow that spider to bite me.  I wasted time feeling sorry for myself that things were not going as planned.  But in the end, God used the one thing I turned completely over to Him to His glory and helped me understand why I had been called back to NC in the first place.  We should never forget this basic truth- God is good all the time...

So the event that almost didn't happen became one of the signature events of my entire ministry.  Who knew?  Besides God, I mean!   Be sure and join me tomorrow as my son Will joins us as a guest blogger and takes a look back at movies from the summer of 2010!

Because of Jesus,

"I Hear Leesha..."

In the Spring of 1989 a group of us including myself, Marilyn, Jeff Byrd and Doyle Craven got tickets to see Amy Grant and Michael W. Smith in concert in Chapel Hill, NC.  Amy was featuring songs from her Lead Me On album, while MWS was touring in support of his i 2 (Eye) project.  We were all so excited to go.  Plus, Doyle had a brand new Ford Probe he was dying to show off...

Our excitement turned to sorrow very quickly when we received word on the day of the show that our dear friend Penny Thomas had passed away.  Penny had worked at Quaker Lake and had been very active in the youth programs of NC Yearly Meeting of Friends.  She had also worked with chronically ill children on the pediatrics ward at Duke Hospital. She had been very sick for a long time, and only a few days earlier we had been to Duke to see her.  Her passing was not unexpected, but it still hit us all very hard.  Doyle and Jeff had both been especially close to her.  We debated whether or not we should attend the concert, eventually deciding that there was nothing we could do at that point, and that Penny would want us to go. 

Even in our melancholy state of mind, the concert was excellent.  We all knew their music so well, and we all shared one unspoken thought as the night went along.  One of the songs on Michael's most recent CD was called I Hear Leesha.  The song was about a young girl who had passed away, and it mourned her loss.  It also spoke of the hope Christians share that there is more to life that what we have on this earth.  The chorus says, "I hear Leesha singing in heaven tonight.  And in-between the sadness, I hear Leesha, telling me that she's alright."  I think secretly we all were praying that he would not sing it.  He did.  As we looked at each other with tears flowing, I knew it was one of those moments in which Jesus was working in each of us.  I knew it was a feeling I would never forget.

A few days later I attended Penny's funeral.  Jeff Byrd sang at the service, and I have always thought it was one of the bravest things I have ever seen anyone do.  He was hurting, he was saddened, and he didn't really want to be doing it.  But he knew he had to.  Filled with the Holy Spirit, he sang beautifully and with passion, sharing both his love for Penny and his faith. 

Being a follower of Christ is not all flowers and rainbows.  There are struggles, tragedies and moments of doubt and fear.  Every time I listen to I Hear Leesha I am reminded that in the midst of the darkest parts of life, Jesus is there to give us light and life.  I hope you will remember that as well.

Because of Jesus,

Vermont, 1991

In December of 1991 a group of us from Springfield Friends Meeting joined with a larger group from North Carolina Yearly Meeting to travel to Burlington, VT for Youthquake '91.  We joined with several hundred Quaker youth from across the U.S. and around the world for a week of praise, teaching and fellowship.  My wife Marilyn and I both attended, and we agree that this trip was remarkable for one major reason:  We remember almost nothing about it!  Of all the major trips and events we were part of, none stand out as little as this one.

If you have followed this blog at all, you know that I have a keen memory and kept detailed files on my ministry.  I remember details others never knew existed in the first place.  But Vermont is pretty much a blank.  Here's what I do remember:

• We travelled by BUS from NC, and stayed in a very nice hotel in Burlington.  I really don't remember who went from Springfield besides us.
• We discovered Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream at it's Vermont factory (the picture above is a current pic of the place;  I have no memory of what it looked like then!) and became addicted to Cherry Garcia and Chunky Monkey!
• We took a one day sight-seeing trip to Montreal and saw many old cathedrals and an underground mall of some sort.
• The people leading music were from Iowa.  The music was pretty cheesy and those of us from NC knew almost none of it.  I couldn't really complain since I had led the music in Denver at Youthquake '88, and as far as I knew people there might have felt the same way about me!  One plus to the music leadership- this was where I learned the song Sanctuary.
• I cannot remember a single speaker- but I am sure they were excellent!
• Our old pal James Ward did the closing New Year's Eve concert, which rocked the house.
• Our buses were to leave right after the concert to start our marathon trip home.  Again, my memory is foggy about that night.  I know for sure we had all kinds of mechanical problems, sat in a parked bus for hours, and almost never got home.  I also have a vague recollection of some girls (including our own Emily Beggs and Jennifer Simmons) getting in trouble for trying to remove a huge Youthquake '91 banner that was hanging high in the lobby of the hotel.  But I could easily be wrong about all of that.

I have no pictures or video.  I have no brochure or newsletter detailing who went or who spoke.  And, as you can tell, I have precious little memory of the event.  It is my hope that someone out there amongst my readers will remember.  Please leave comments here, or e-mail me at youthguy07@aol.com if you have info to share.  Until then, I will assume that Youthquake '91 was a great event, where lives were changed and where God showed up in some amazing ways- because God always does.  I just wish I could remember it...

Because of Jesus,

Alrightokuhhuhamen

The last night of the week Rich Mullins and I spent together at the 1990 North Carolina Yearly Meeting sessions, Rich performed in front of the entire NCYM, both youth and adults.  We all assumed he would play songs off his newest project, or perhaps his biggest hit, Awesome God.  Instead, he sat at the piano and performed Sing Your Praise To the Lord, a song he had written but that Amy Grant had recorded, and Elijah, a song from one of  his first albums.  As always, Rich sang not to sell tapes, but to praise God.  The next morning, as we said farewell, we prayed together one last time, and then he said he had something for me.  I had told him about our TNT program at Springfield Friends Meeting and how we also gave away door prizes, with the best prizes often being tapes or CDs.  He gave me a box of his CDs and tapes, and another box of T-shirts to use as giveaways.  This was part of the way he made a living- and he just gave it away.  Another lesson learned in my life.

His influence would be felt in so many ways in my ministry in the days and years that would follow.  My students who had been at NCYM came back fired up and ready to follow Jesus!  From that day forward I taught the 10 Commandments and the Beatitudes at least once a year, and tried to find ways to get the youth really into learning them.  He inspired me to start taking groups of students to work in our local soup kitchen on a regular basis, and later would inspire mission trips.  Soon everyone at Springfield was listening to Rich's music and wearing one of his T-shirts.  The two shirts carried serious messages. One said "Live like you'll die tomorrow.  Die knowing you'll live forever!"  The other simply said "Alrightokuhhuhamen," the title of one of his songs (Another thing Rich taught me- AMEN means YES- not "the end.").  The song was all about saying YES to God.  I made banners to put up in youth room at Springfield and in "The Attic" in Kissimmee with just Alrightokuhhuhamen printed on them.  By Kissimmee, we were singing Awesome God and Sometimes By Step on a regular basis.  His impact on my ministry was tremendous.

So was his influence on my life.  Along with Mike Yaconelli, Rich was one of the two guys I was ever around who just oozed Jesus.  Listen to this quote from one of his final concerts:
"Jesus said whatever you do to the least of these my brothers you’ve done it to me. And this is what I’ve come to think. That if I want to identify fully with Jesus Christ, who I claim to be my savior and Lord, the best way that I can do that is to identify with the poor. This I know will go against the teachings of all the popular evangelical preachers. But they’re just wrong. They’re not bad, they’re just wrong. Christianity is not about building an absolutely secure little niche in the world where you can live with your perfect little wife and your perfect little children in a beautiful little house where you have no gays or minority groups anywhere near you. Christianity is about learning to love like Jesus loved and Jesus loved the poor and Jesus loved the broken..."  He moved out of the music scene in Nashville in 1991 to Wichita, Kansas, where he attended Friends University and received a B.A. in music education.  He and fellow Ragamuffin Mitch McVicker (the Ragamuffins were the band he had formed in 1993) moved to a Navajo reservation in New Mexico in 1995 to live among the Native Americans and teach music.  For Rich, "What Would Jesus Do?" was not a bracelet- it was the driving question of his life.  And because I knew that, his music was a moving force and a comfort in my own spiritual journey.  At times when I struggled with my faith his song Creed reminded me "I believe what I believe is what makes me what I am."  At the lowest points of my life, when I had let down everyone who loved me and everyone who believed in me, his words reminded me that "There's bound to come some trouble to your life, just reach out to Jesus and hold on tight..."  As I lost so many of the things that had been important to me, I found myself praying his words daily:  "Hold me, Jesus, 'cause I'm shaking like a leaf.  You have been King of my glory, won't you be my Prince of Peace?"  So many of his words showed me the light of Jesus in my darkest times.  No matter how bad it seemed, I knew I was still in "the reckless, raging fury that we call the love of God..."  Even his final project, The Jesus Record (see picture at top), promised me that "our Deliverer is coming..."

Rich was killed in a car accident on September 19, 1997.  I cried, but Rich himself had already written about going to be with Jesus in his early classic Elijah- "When I leave I want to go out like Elijah, with a whirlwind to fuel my chariot of fire.  And when I look back on the stars, it'll be like a candlelight in Central Park- and it won't break my heart to say goodbye..."  He left such a legacy in my life.  I am a Ragamuffin, a bum who is only important because of the love of Jesus.  And now, more than ever, I understand that my life belongs to God.  He still has a plan for me, and I will say YES when the time comes.  As the song says "You can argue with your maker but you know that you just can't win...so say it... Alrightokuhhuhamen!" 

Because of Jesus,

"God's Own Fool"

Once I got past the initial shock of the truth of Rich Mullin's words (see yesterday's post) I began to learn.  As he taught on the 10 Commandments, I learned that the command to not take God's name in vain really meant "don't empty the meaning from the name of Lord."  It was so much more that just not cussing.  When he turned his attention to the Beatitudes, he focused a great deal on what it means to be "pure in heart."  His own song One Thing focused our thoughts:  "Everybody I know says they need just one thing, but what they really mean is they need just one thing more...You're my one thing...and the pure in heart shall see GOD..."  At the merchandise table where his tapes and T-shirts were being sold he would take time to explain to students why they should buy his newest project, Never Picture Perfect, instead of the one with the more popular Awesome God- and his reason was that God had taught him so much through the album.  One afternoon I walked into the big room we were meeting in and found him all alone, playing his hammered dulcimer and writing a new song.  The song turned out to be Sometimes By Step, better known by it's chorus "Oh God, You are my God and I will ever praise You."  Later, when the song was published, Rich gave all of the song writing credit to his pal Beaker.  When Randy Cockerham, who was singing the solo part on the youth choir Serenity's performance of Awesome God, asked Rich if he wanted to sing it instead, Rich told Randy how much he was looking forward to hearing him sing it.  He was so humble, so focused, and so connected to Jesus.

One afternoon we took the youth to a local water park (Emerald Aqua Garden Water Country Pointe- the place just couldn't pick a name!), and Rich went but didn't swim.  I sat with him by the pool for a while and confessed to him that I felt rather foolish leading music at this event while he sat and watched.  His response was that "feeling foolish is a good indication that you are walking with Jesus.  He must have looked crazy to his friends."  I asked him if he knew the song God's Own Fool by Michael Card and we discovered we both loved it.  Rich reminded me that being out of step with the world we live in often means we are in step with Jesus- and he challenged me to keep being foolish.  I want to do the same for you.  Read these words from Michael Card and let them remind you what it really means to give your life to the Christ.

It seems I've imagined him all of my life as the wisest of all of mankind

But if God's holy wisdom is foolish to men, He must have seemed out of His mind

For even His family said He was mad, and a Priest said "a demon's to blame"

God in the form of this angry young man could not have seemed perfectly sane

When we in our foolishness thought we were wise,

He played the fool and opened our eyes

When we in our weakness believed we were strong,

He became helpless to show we were wrong

And so we follow God's own Fool, for only the foolish can tell

Believe the unbelievable, come be a fool as well

So come lose your life for a carpenter's son, for a madman who died for a dream

Then you'll know the faith His first followers had and you'll feel the weight of the beam

So surrender the hunger that says you must know and have the courage to say I BELIEVE

For the power of paradox opens your eyes, and blinds those who say they can see

And so we follow God's own Fool...

So get out there and be foolish for Jesus.  Love people when it makes no sense.  Follow the Good Shepherd in a world where everyone wants to be in charge.  Find your One Thing- find Jesus!  Tomorrow I will wrap up my series on Rich by talking about his lasting influence on my ministry.  Come join us!

Because of Jesus,