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,

Strange Tales of Student Ministry

Last week I sat in a restaurant and eavesdropped on a conversation between two elderly ("older than me") men at the adjacent table. One was doing most of the talking, telling stories of both current events and days gone by. The other listened intently, but would occasionally interrupt with his own thoughts. And his thoughts seemed to be confined to two phrases- "You've got be kidding me" and "Really?" He clearly was having a hard time buying what his friend was selling...

I sometimes feel that way when I tell old stories of my days in youth ministry, because when dealing with teenagers truth is often stranger than fiction. And it keeps getting stranger. Today I want to share with you 7 moments that fit that category. The stories you are about to read are true. The names have been left out for obvious reasons. Editor's Note: The pictures seen here have nothing to do with the stories. They are just strange in their own way...

1)  In 1979 I was hired to work part-time at a very small rural church in NC. I was not quite 20 years old. The couple that had been leading the youth group were really wonderful people, and I knew their children from working at Quaker Lake Camp in the summer. I found out later that rumor had it that at least part of the reason they wanted me was because they thought I would make a good husband for their (sweet & beautiful!) 15 year old daughter. There was nothing sinister about it; they had gotten married at 16 and may have been thinking she would too. I escaped unharmed...

2)  Sometime in the autumn of 1984 I received a phone call from a terrified youth, saying that her ex-boyfriend (also a student I knew from QLC and various youth events) was drunk, violent and in her yard screaming for her to come out. She was home alone with her 2 younger sisters, and was mostly afraid that her parents would come home, find the boy there... and kill him! Even though I was no longer her youth pastor, I drove over and calmed him down, got his cousin to come pick him up, and defused the situation. But not before he took a few swings at me...  Youth ministry is not for wimps!

3)  In April of 1987 I took 6 high school students- 3 male, 3 female- to the mountains  of NC on a leadership retreat. Late one night I stopped by the guys room to see if they were okay, and was told to go away. I knew something odd was going on (and that our girls were in there too), but they asked me not to push it, so I let it go. For nearly 6 years I tried to discover what was going on in that room that night, but their code of silence could not be broken. Finally, after after lots of teasing and taunting, they revealed the big secret- they had just started playing strip poker when I came to the door! Nothing had happened- they were just embarrassed to tell me. I think shoes and socks were the only wagered items lost!

4)  Once one of my students called to tell me she was afraid she was pregnant. After a lot of talking I convinced her to tell her mom and we all went to the doctor; it turned out she was not. A few weeks later I discovered she had told her friends she had gone for an abortion. In her fragile teenage mind it was easier to tell her friends she had gotten an abortion than it was to tell them she had been wrong about being pregnant. Try as we might, we cannot walk in their shoes- so we just have to love them.

5)  In the late 1990s, while on a FUMC-Kissimmee ski trip, a teenage girl banged on my door late one night and said she needed to talk to me. I stepped outside and was informed that she had just started menstruating for the first time. This was not the first or last time I was ever part of such a conversation, but they never ceased being awkward. This one, however. was particularly strange. Her father was on the trip as a chaperon and a female pediatrician (one of our Youth Counselors) was in the room next door to her. When I mentioned this to her, she said she wasn't comfortable telling them. I was horrified and honored all at once. But we got her dad and he doc and got her some help. Another time we were on a bus coming back from NYC when a young woman began to wander the aisle asking the other females if anyone "had supplies she could BORROW." Her use of the word borrow completely cracked us up, and we eventually had to stop the bus and do some shopping for her. BTW- if you can't deal with those kinds of conversations you have no business being a youth pastor. It's part of the gig. For another hilarious tale of this sort, see A Strange Night In Atlanta.

6)  My family was gone on a youth group beach trip one summer and we asked one of our "left behind" youth if he would dog sit for us. He did. About a month later we got bills from our Internet provider and our cable company for over $300 worth of porn he had viewed at our house while we were away. My wife got the costs dropped because of the situation. He and I had a "Come to Jesus" meeting, but I didn't tell his parents or anyone else. I hope he passes that grace along at some point...

7)  In 2006 I was driving a van full of Trinity UMC- Waycross students back from a major youth revival in a neighboring town in south Georgia. It was very late and we were very hungry. I said we could stop and asked for suggestions as to what would be open at that hour. One of the girls suggested a taco place; the name I have long since forgotten. I said that sounded great and asked where it was. With a perfectly straight face she responded, "South Dakota." She was dead serious. And she was totally clueless as to why the rest of the van screamed at her. Ahhhh- teenagers!

It's all true- and I didn't even include the lost bikini tops, insane parent stories, middle school boys gone wild and all of the inappropriate questions I was asked over the years. As former students keep revealing secret histories of old trips to me in my advancing age, I keep expecting to hear one start with, "This one time, on a church trip..."  I suppose the sequel to this will have to be entitled Too Hot For This Blog!  Until then, just remember- youth ministry is always stranger than fiction!

Because of Jesus,

We've Got It All Wrong

Ulysses Bolton of the Bahamas???

The other day I was eating lunch by myself in a restaurant where they have televisions. They had the Olympics on with the sound off, and they were showing a water polo match between two European countries.  I was loving the action, but I soon found myself distracted by the conversation at the table next to me. It seemed to be a family, with a grandmother, a younger couple, and two teenagers.  They were discussing the Olympics, and this is a synopsis of what I heard...

Why are the showing swimming (it was water polo) again?  I hate swimming.  I like the running.  They never show the running (except for hours in prime time).  You know who is really good?  That Ulysses Bolton (Usain Bolt), the one from the Bahamas (Jamaica). He is so fast. I saw him win the 1000 yard (100 meter) dash.  He is really American you know, he just runs for the Bahamas because there team is easier to make.  Almost all of those foreigners really live in America.  Why do we let those foreign countries in the Olympics anyway (WOW!)? You know what else I hate? When those stupid British people say soccer and football are the same thing (The entire world calls it football except us)!  Yeah right. The Bucs would kill those soccer teams (seems unlikely the Bucs would win at either sport)...

I'll stop there, although unfortunately they didn't.  The discussion also had some racist elements and accused all gymnasts and volleyball players of being gay.  To sum up, there was NOTHING they said that was completely accurate.  Their facts were all wrong.  And yet, they were certain of every word that they said.

We live in a world where this is not an unusual happening- in fact, it is the norm.  Whether discussing the Olympics, defending our favorite political party or trying to prove a theological point, we often yammer on as if we know what we are talking about, when in fact we've got it all wrong.  Jesus IS the truth, and yet so many people have false understandings of his teachings and his mission.  Our sources are far too often talking heads and bloggers who also have no idea what they are talking about.  And so the misinformation spreads until there are many believers in facts that are simply not true.

The third chapter of the book of James contains many warnings about watching what we say and speaking only the truth.  If James were writing today he would have talked about typing the truth as well.  My lunch experience was a reminder to me that we cannot speak the truth if we are not first willing to seek it, and to hear things that may be difficult to hear.  Just because someone else said it and we agree with it does not make it true.  We must seek the truth- and we must look more than one place.

So today I ask myself and each of you...what is it we've got all wrong?

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,

Truth Is Stranger Than Fiction #2

That's Kendall in front, squatting in the blue shirt-
but not at Myrtle Beach!

When you work in the field of student ministry, there are many glorious moments.  You get to see teenagers and occasionally entire families come to know Jesus.  You get to experience programs that actually teach; games the youth actually enjoy; and be part of events and trips that help your students understand what it means to truly be a part of the family of God.  These are moments that make the effort and sacrifice all worthwhile.  But there are other times...MANY other times...when you are left scratching your head and wondering why it was God chose you to work with teenagers!  Today, I give you the curious case of Kendall Crotty...

The Betsy B

Sometime in the late 1990's I took a group from the First United Methodist Church of Kissimmee on one of our fabled trips to North Myrtle Beach and the fabulous Betsy B! We were there for week and had our usual fabulous time of sun, fun, food and fellowship.  With us on this particular trips was a middle school student named Kendall Crotty. Kendall had been with us for a couple of years, following in the footsteps of legendary older brother Wayne.  Their grandparents were legendary church members and great supporters of the student ministry, and the sewage treatment kings of Kissimmee. Kendall had established himself as a force to be reckoned with a few years earlier on our mystery trip to Myrtle Beach when his mom (who wasn't supposed to) told him where we were going and he told everyone else, successfully ending the mystery before we ever left the church parking lot.  This particular trip was fairly uneventful for Kendall with one exception.  He wore the same t-shirt every day.  Now it is not unusual on such trips for students to wear the same shirt around the house or out to the beach, but our hero wore it every where- out to dinner, downtown to the Pavilion and anyplace else we went.  Our NUMEROUS suggestions that he he try a new shirt were to no avail.  And so we all suffered with the shirt.


Saturday morning came and we began the always sad task of cleaning the Betsy B and preparing to head home.  Kendall, much to our surprise (and joy!), was wearing a clean shirt for the van ride home.  As we gathered the scattered swim suits, towels and flip-flops and tried to determine who they belonged to, someone discovered on one of the oceanfront porches the shirt Kendall had worn everyday that week.  They brought it to him and tried to give it to him, but he refused it.  He said it wasn't his.  The entire group reminded him he had worn it everyday that week, but he told us we were mistaken.  He was adamant that it was not his shirt. We began to remind him of how many times we had ragged on him trying to get him to change OUT of the shirt, but he held fast.  He simply refused to admit it was his.  One of the guys wound up hanging the shirt from the front balcony as a flag, reminding the world of our week together.  As we pulled out and headed home, Kendall was STILL denying ever having seen that shirt.  It was just totally beyond belief.


Youth ministry is like that.  Even in the midst of an amazing trip, there was this totally irrational, completely ridiculous behavior by one of our fine young men.  I was at a total loss to explain it.  It really didn't matter, yet he denied it to the end.  Working with teenagers is never simple, it is never cut and dried, and it is never normal. But it is always memorable and it is always special.  And that, my friends, is why I loved it for nearly 30 years.  Kendall, wherever you are- that shirt was yours!  Claim it!!!!


Because of Jesus,

Truth Is Stranger Than Fiction #1

When you work for a church- and especially if you happen to serve the church as a Youth Pastor- the true stories of the things that happen around you are often stranger than any fiction you could write.  Today I want to share one such story with you.  It first appeared on another of my blogs this past May.

Lost And Found in Concert

I was serving a church in Florida when I arranged to bring the great band Lost And Found to that church for the second time.  The were coming in early October, and there was great excitement around their visit.  The excitement was soon tempered by a series of hurricanes that caused us to cancel Sunday services twice in three weeks, thus putting quite a strain on church finances.  Being friends with the band, I explained our situation and they told me I could mail them a check in a week or two later.  Not only that, but because their travel costs had been less than expected, they wanted to knock $500 off of their fee.  It was an awesome gesture on their part.  They came, played a killer show, and everything went off without a hitch.  Until...


Several weeks later, after we had payed them, the Chairman of the church Finance Committee came to my office.  He had the contract for the concert and a copy of the check we had mailed them.  He seemed to be accusing me of wrong-doing, but I could not make any sense of his words.  It soon dawned on me that was because his words made no sense.  Since the check had been written for $500 less than the original contract called for, he thought I had done something wrong.  I explained the situation to him, but he would hear none of it.  He was from the business world and simply could not believe that we had renegotiated the contract with a handshake.  We called the band's management, and they explained the situation as well- and he would hear none of it.  He seemed to think that the band and I were in cahoots in some grand scheme- that had saved the church $500.  He ranted, raved, and moved our "discussion" to the Senior Pastor's office- where my boss proceeded to throw me under the bus and tell me I needed to make this right.  I was laughing.  I had saved the church $500, and now I needed to "make it right."  So over my protests- and the protests of the band- the church sent them a check for $500.  It was money they would have loved to have back a year later.  The next time I ran into to George and Michael (they're the guys in the band) they were like, "Dude!  What's up with that wacky church?"  But by then that story seemed pretty tame.  Life working for a church is often nothing short of bizarre.  Truth really is stranger than fiction...


Because of Jesus,