Those post-modern kids and the church

I recently attended a chapel service at Anderson University. Tony Dungy, head coach of the Indianapolis Colts, was the promoted guest speaker. I wanted to hear what he would say to a group of college students packed into a large auditorium.

Tony was good. The students listened. He talked to them about finding meaning in life--through faith, not success or money. I listened.

What impacted me most, though, was what happened before the coach was introduced and seemed to be humbled by a standing ovation. I had not attended a Christian university chapel service for over 30 years. I had read, however, about those post-modernists who were beginning to make their impact on the church. I also knew that many of AU’s freshmen in my critical thinking classes were a unique breed in their understanding of God and religion. I was not prepared, however, for what I saw and heard.

Surprisingly, the students didn’t seem too interested in a consumer based performance. They appeared willing to abandon a focus on the contemporariness of worship and to ignore some of the popular generic expressions of faith.

The stage had been transformed into a worship platform. The Cross was the dominant symbol in a 10-foot stained-glass pictogram suspended from the curtain tracks. The dais evolved into the role of a pulpit—a place from which to publicly pray and read the Scriptures.

Songs made reference to an ancient faith founded in the Jerusalem event of the death and resurrection of Jesus. Choruses spoke of those who had cleared the path ahead of us, marking the way with the blood of martyrdom.

The fine arts were embedded into the student-planned worship. An undergraduate danced, miming the surprise and joy of discovering the grace of God through the life and teachings of Jesus Christ.

As we sang together and as we listened to a student choir, the beat of the accompanying drums became the rhythm of the history of God's loving kindness. I was hearing a life-giving narrative that had its source in what happened 2000 years ago, not last week or even last century.

I was invoked to imagine a better day—a day of God’s full Kingdom. I was amazed how the students were willing and able to look back—way back, and gather hope for what lies ahead—way ahead.

I touched something during that hour, or maybe something touched me. I am not sure what it was, but it felt like connection. I was reminded that I was part of something shared by all of God’s people.

After Tony spoke about regretting his failure to nurture his faith while in college, I drove home wondering if I should allow myself to feel the excitement. I want to, but I am afraid I am seeing a mirage, that I am so thirsty that anything different takes on the form of an oasis.

I pray it is not an illusion. I hope those post-modern kids will give the church a makeover that will highlight an ancient faith that has sustained God’s people of all times, creeds and nations. I hope they will continue to boldly stand between the past and the future and to embrace the discomforts of the mysteries of God.