I just sent my ten-year old off to bed.
And while that's not an uncommon event, tonight was different. Tonight, I took away his comic books.
Do I have a theological problem with humor? Do I take joy in depriving a child of the thrill of reading Superman under the covers by flashlight? Am I a prude? No, no, and I hope not. But my son has been gravitating to the mind-candy lately while the classics—Old Yeller, Tom Sawyer, et al—are collecting dust. "I'm too tired to read that stuff now," he whines. "Those books are too thick. The words are too hard." He's got a chorus of standard excuses, but the truth is, he doesn't want to think.
Should this become a lifelong habit, he will move seamlessly into the church where he'll find many others who avoid both thick books and thinking. And more than a few of them will be youth pastors.
Evangelicals are not known as thinkers. I know those are fighting words—and I know that some of you think often and well—but in truth, since the days of Jonathan Edwards, evangelicals have been thought of as 60-watt bulbs, not 150, and for good reason. We have replaced our studies with offices. We have replaced lessons on the Westminster Confession with discussions on Veggie Tales.
When John Wesley was asked how someone should prepare themselves for ministry he said they should dedicate five to six hours a day studying grammar, geography, logic, ethics, and natural philosophy, and then when exhausted, relax by turning to poetry and history. That regime, if suggested today, would be considered either laughable or cruel or both. We've come a long way baby, and, at least to my way of thinking, it's mostly been downhill.
Of course running around acting like Chicken Little is easy. Providing a way out is harder. I'm not sure any of the following ideas cure anything, but I offer them in the hope that they will provide at least a bit of incentive to gravitate towards the life of the mind.
Learn How You Think
I think by writing. In fact, I can hardly think without a laptop or the back of an envelope to scribble on. Furthermore, I think in the morning. Others think by talking—with others or to themselves—some by watching and still others by doing. For that matter, some people do their best work in the middle of the day and others in the middle of the night. One way or time isn't any better than the other, but thinking is better than not thinking. So figure out how and when you think best.
Schedule Time to Think
And then take steps to that end. I once read that we should set aside time once a week to think, and that if we do this we'll gain reputations as intellectuals. I couldn't care less for the reputation—intellectuals are not generally held in high esteem these days—but I like the advice. In fact, I recently turned down a job because I could see that there wouldn't be consistent time to think.
Read
And to the earlier point, don't read comics but real works of substance. You know, those with small print and no pictures. I'd like you to disprove the comment recently made by Loren Mead of the Alban Institute who said that clergy are famous for buying big books but reading little ones. Take a hard look at your bookshelf and nightstand. What are you reading? How much of it is fluff? And if it's not fluff, are you interacting with the text or simply turning the pages?
A friend of mine recently stopped asking pastors to name the last three books they'd read because he found their answers too depressing. "Almost without exception," he said, "they were reading books on church management or psychology or some hot selling business text. If they were reading a 'Christian' book it was something popular and light. Almost no one is working through Calvin's Institutes or Augustine's Confessions or any other serious work of theology or church history."
I've found that in order to grow intellectually, I have to push myself. It's not always fun, but the easiest way to stay on the cutting edge is to read one really hard book every month.
Join a Discussion Group
Or form one. Invite your intellectual superiors and then work hard to keep up. Let each member of the group take turns assigning a topic—the Middle East, a Christian critique of Medicare, or the changing nature of adolescence—and then scatter to learn what you can and report back. I really don't care what the topic is as long as you pick something you'd not normally wade into and then wade in up to your eyeballs. Remember, you can make it to 30 in youth ministry on good looks and personality, but if you are saying the same things at 45 that you said at 25 just about everyone will be rolling their eyes.
Ask, "Why?"
I just turned forty and I've found the last twelve months to be some of my richest time of intellectual growth. I think the catalyst has been my decision to start questioning things I'd never questioned before. Now this may sound dangerous—and I'll confess that it's not without risk—but for the most part I've been delighted to find good reasons behind most traditions. They were always there, but I didn't know about them. Asking why has helped provide a much deeper enjoyment of many of the events and rituals that were previously just habits.
Learn Something New
Astronomy, philosophy, landscaping, I don't much care, but take a new interest in a field you've previously ignored. Several years ago my wife gave me art lessons for my birthday. Once a week for two months, a 19-year old art major from the local college came to our house and helped Sheri and I figure out which end of the brush to hold. We spilled a lot of paint, laughed at each other's efforts, and produced nothing worthy of even the front of the refrigerator, but I learned a lot. In fact, I not only gained a new appreciation for art but I developed new ways of looking at the world.
Leighton Ford, the brother-in-law of Billy Graham, recently said as much in an interview for Christianity Today. In his sixties he began experimenting with drawing and painting and found them to be spiritual exercises. He said that in learning to draw, he learned to see more keenly and attentively and that changed his prayer life.
Perhaps I am being too pushy or too dark. I am certainly willing to admit—as ironic as it would be—that I may not be thinking clearly enough about thinking to accurately describe our challenge. But I worry that not only are we no longer able to outthink our critics, we aren't even worried about our intellectual decline. The anti-intellectualism of today's church must be identified for the sin that it is so that we can return to loving God with all our heart, soul, strength, and mind.
Originally published in the 2003 issue of YouthWorker Journal, copyright 2006, Youth Specialties. Reprinted/used with permission.
