The New York Times recently carried a feature titled "A Church's Challenge: Holding On to Its Young," a fascinating look at a storefront Pentecostal church of 60 people in Harlem.
According to the Times, its unique feature lies in its devoted core of more than a dozen teens who sing and pray at every service. The newspaper said not only did the pastor see the seeds of a church band, this motley crew represented the future of his church.
So, he gave them instruments, paid for music lessons and handed out gifts few had known, such as attention, praise and expectations.
Sounds like the stuff of happy endings. Except the Times went on to report the struggles of keeping these young people in church.
Some of its rules and guidelines conflict with everything around them. Some go overboard, such as the leader who said you had to be in church 24-7. (Hmmm. When are we supposed to influence the world?)
Other times they are confusing: "They can have cell phones and video games, but are told not to watch television," wrote reporter David Gonzalez. "They can date, but preferably only other Pentecostals and then sometimes only with a chaperone. Dancing is taboo, but they can gyrate in religious ecstasy."
(Ouch. Which of your church's favorite moral codes would sound equally confusing in the harsh glare of publicity?)
Our omni-present dilemmas
Church leaders who think they don't face similar dilemmas on the main streets of small-town America are best described as living in a state called Denial. Drugs, divorce and dysfunctional families are a national problem.
So is the challenge of technology, which may be even more prominent than tough social environments. That thought occurred when I read the latest newsletter from Mastermedia, a Southern California ministry to media moguls in Hollywood.
A brief item headlined, "Omnipresent (Digital) Word of God" noted that today's young generation thinks nothing of accessing the Bible electronically, regardless of time or location.
It quoted Stephanie Simon of the Los Angeles Times calling sitting in a pew on Sunday morning "almost embarrassingly old-fashioned." After all, this is an era when people can watch a video of the Last Supper on a Palm Pilot or get Bible verses text messaged to their cell phones, she wrote.
Boring sermon? You can pick from hundreds of on-line broadcasts, said Simon, or download topical summaries of everything from Old Testament prophets to Christian dating to an MP3 player.
Or, those who don't want to flip through the pages of a leather-bound Bible can use Olive Tree's software to search the Word on a Blackberry. A company named FaithMobile can send a digital Bible verse to your cell phone daily for $5.99 a month.
Says MasterMedia: "Gives new meaning to the phrase, ââ¬Ësticketh closer than a brother.'"
It also illustrates the rapid pace of change in today's worldââ¬âchange that threatens to swamp churches that remain mired in the past while yearning for the "good old days."
Despite the struggles of that Pentecostal church in New York, their pastor had enough foresight to use of future leaders to breathe life into his church today. Likewise, if I have problems with my computer, I'm more prone to ask my grandson for help than a middle-aged cohort.
Could it be the young people in your church's midst could hold the keys to keeping pace with technology? Middle-agers and seniors may not understand it, but it can introduce people to the Rock of Ages at a lightning-speed pace.





