I like that answer

This past summer I spent 5 days at Youthfront West, where I "served" as a volunteer cabin leader for a group of 20 or so middle school girls. Following one of our small group cabin discussions, the girls were given the freedom to ask questions about anything they desired.

June 15, 2010

A sweet-tempered, round-faced eight-grader approaches me with an earnest inquiry. "How do we know that Lutherans are right?" she asks, waiting to receive an answer she can make sense of. "I ask a lot of people that questioon and they give me a lot of different answers, even when I ask my dad." Based on this answer I guess that her father-figure is the final authority in her 13-year-old life. "He gives me different answers," she continues as we walk up the stairs inside the cabin. "They're kind of the same, but they're different."

When we reach level ground I turn to her, wondering what words of Lutheran wisdom will pour forth from my post-modern mouth, and whether or not I'll be reprimanded for giving a teenager my honest opinion. "Well," I start, "a lot of Christians, particularly Lutherans, follow the practices of their particular churches because those are the churches they grew up in; that's what their parents taught them and what their grandparents believe. Some people question those beliefs, but others just remain in their 'home churches' because they are comfortable there. It's what they've been taught is true, and it makes sense to them to continue believing it's true, and that's okay. That's one way that we come to believe things."

Her eyes are still fixed on me and she nods slightly, as if to indicate that she understands. So I continue, "I grew up in the LCMS [Lutheran Church Missouri Synod], but after high school I attended a lot of other churches and found that what is more important to me than the denomination of the church are the actions of the church. 'Do the people live in community? How do they follow Jesus? Do they feed the hungry and clothe the poor and care for their community?'" As I articulate these thoughts I realize I'm expressing them for my sake as much as hers. "Those are the things I think about when choosing a church."

"Yeah," she responds, brushing aside my subtle pleas for social justice and corporate life, "but there are all of these churches, and they all have different beliefs." I can tell her mind is spinning as she tries to articulate what she's struggling to grasp, "but I guess, what I want to know is who's right?"

"Oh," I reply. "None of them." My response is so simple, so matter-of-fact that I think it catches her by surprise. "They're all wrong." The girls' eyes grow wide, as if my response has totally rocked her adolescent world. "We're humans," I continue. "We make our own interpretations and we make mistakes. We can know about God and do our best to understand what we the Bible that we've compiled says and means, but until the restoration, until Jesus makes new our imperfect understanding we'll never have it all figured out."

She gives me a soft smile. "Thanks," she says, sincerely and with a look of relieved gratitude. "I like that answer. That makes sense."

I like the answer too. And I like that I really meant what I said. I wonder if I was right to attempt to convey something I didn't start to grasp until I was a full decade older than this dark-haired student, but I'm not too worried. I wish someone had told me as much when I was in eighth grade.