Casual Christian

In1986 my best friend Jayne and I boarded a plane in Toronto and flew to Mexico City where we spent the month of July with Youth With A Mission, YWAM for short. We stayed in an unfinished hospital, slept on foam pads rolled out onto concrete floors, stuffed our used toilet paper in plastic bags instead of flushing it down the toilet, ate bologna sandwiches for lunch and rice and beans for supper, walked everywhere, handed out bibles, painted schools, went on prayer walks, and hung out with other YWAMers from Vancouver, Toronto, Australia, Arkansas and other places across the US.

Look at us! No judgement on my fashion choices - not sure what the white belt thing was.

It was terrifying, amazing, life-changing and one of the biggest adventures of our teenage life. Jayne had turned 17 in April of 1986 and I would turn 17 in November. We were babies but we felt so mature. We were changing the world. We were doing what Jesus wanted us to do. We were learning more about him and putting feet onto our beliefs. We had absolutely no idea what life held for us and we honestly didn't care. We were loving Jesus and were convinced Jesus wanted us in Mexico City.

The Canadian delegation of our team. Jayne, myself (taking the picture) and a group from Burnaby BC.

On our return home we were asked to make a presentation about our trip to our MYF.

MYF? Mennonite Youth Fellowship.

Oh how we loved MYF. It was our whole world for a couple years. Every Friday night, Mennonite youth from Crosshill Mennonite church and Mapleview Mennonite church, who attended various high schools, would meet at the Fellowship Hall in the town of Wellesley. This hall was not attached to a church. It was just a hall in our town of Wellesley. People used it for wedding receptions, family reunions, parties etc. I'm not certain but I think it may have been jointly owned by my church - Crosshill Mennonite - and our partner church - Mapleview Mennonite.

Crosshill Mennonite split from Mapleview Mennonite around the time my mom and dad came of age. I'm not sure what the fissure issue was but mom tells a story of not being served communion at Mapleview because she had committed the dastardly deed of cutting her hair. By my time many women at Mapleview did not have cut hair but wore their hair up in a bun tucked neatly underneath their head coverings every day of the week while Crosshill women had cut hair and only wore their coverings on Sundays. Mapleview women also dressed more simply, exclusively wearing dresses, while Crosshill women wore 'normal' clothes, pants included, during the week and dresses on Sundays.

The older people at Mapleview, my grandparents included, held to the tradition of men sitting on one side of the church and women on the other, so on a typical Sunday morning at Mapleview the front several rows of pews were split - women on the left, men on the right. This was not a sight you would see at Crosshill. Families sat together, men beside women.

Wait. Wait. I digress.

Although Crosshill and Mapleview didn't see eye to eye on all theological issues, the powers that were decided our young people should come together for MYF. We were one.

Okay. Back to Jayne and our Mexico City trip presentation at the Fellowship Hall.

Grant. From Australia. Sigh. Jayne and I had an absolute crush on this guy.

Picture the Fellowship Hall. Hardwood floors, A stage at the front of the room, windows on the right side of the room, the left side of the room was enclosed but held the doorway to a hallway that led to bathrooms and the kitchen. A piano was tucked in the front corner of the room, almost like it was ashamed to be there At this time neither Crosshill or MapleView allowed instruments during Sunday morning services. Our sanctuaries were filled with the crooning hymns in four-part harmony

Jayne and I are standing in front of the stage, smack dab front and center. Our fellow young Mennonites are sitting in wooden chairs, in orderly rows, in front of us. We are taking turns describing the hospital, the team from British Columbia and Arkansas we got to spend the month with, and all the things we saw and did. We share a story about a demon being cast out, a shriveled hand being healed and loads of spiritual and biblical wisdom we gleaned from the teaching sessions we sat through brought to us by our YWAM leaders. Please note the demon and shriveled hand stories were only related to us, we did not witness them first hand. I'm not sure we made this distinction the night of our presentation.

It was a fine presentation but we weren't finished yet. Jayne and I wrap it all up by playing the song, "Casual Christian" by Degarmo and Key, a popular Christian Contemporary band. At this stage of our lives, Jayne and I only listen to Christian contemporary music. We are good Mennonites. Good Christians.

Here is the chorus:

"I don't wanna be, I don't wanna be a casual Christian.

I don't wanna live, I don't wanna live a lukewarm life.

'Cause I wanna light up the night,

With an everlasting life.

I don't wanna live a casual Christian life."

The song ends, we sit down, our MYF president thanks us, she prays, and it's time to eat! I think it is still accurate to say Mennonites will only gather if food is provided. What is the point otherwise? We love food. We are so good at food.

Anyway.

Here I am. Almost exactly 37 years from the Mexico trip and the presentation night. As I sit here and recall this story I can't help but ask myself, "Am I a casual Christian? Have I lived a lukewarm life? Have I lit up the night?"

I wonder what my 16 year-old-self will think of the answer my 53-year-old self will give?

I'm certain she'd be dumbfounded by my beliefs today. She'd be aghast to learn I don't listen to or even no longer appreciate Christian music. Honestly, I can barely tolerate it. She would absolutely have no words when I explain to her the state of the church today and how instead of it being my safe place it has become something to be wary of. I'd reassure her of my continued love for Jesus and how through all the changes, all the places I've been, all the people I've met and all the things I've learned, I have never let go of loving Him and I never will. I trust she takes great comfort in knowing that.

Jesus is still Jesus, and it is absolutely glorious how he never changes. What changes is my understanding of him, his ministry, his purpose, and the depth of his love. My 16-year-old self understood Christianity to be about rules and all the things not allowed because she desperately did not want to disappoint Jesus. My 53-year-old self understands how following Christ means being okay with mystery, with questions without answers, being okay with thinking and seeing the world in an upside-down way, and being brave enough to love another person anyway, regardless of who they vote for, what view they hold on abortion, who they love, what church they go to, and if they listen to Christian music or not. The love of Christ is so wide and so deep and so high. My 16-year-old self simply didn't have the capacity or the experience to understand, but she wanted to. She was ready for it. She loved Jesus. She brought me to today. I'm so thankful for how brave she was and how she would not give up on Jesus.

If I make it another 37 years, I'm confident my 90 year old self will be completely and totally drowning in the ocean of Christ's love. She's going to be amazing because He is.

So am I a casual Christian?

Absolutely not.

What I understand now is how my identity is in Christ's love for me. Thankfully I am not the mission trips I take or don't, the music I listen to or don't, and not the side of the political spectrum I lean towards.

I am a follower of Christ. I was then and I am now. Thankfully I believe so differently now than I did in 1986 but Christ and His love could never, in any way be considered lukewarm or incapable of lighting up not only the night but the day and the universe.

My oh my. My 16 year old self loves that about Him.

Shall we give Jayne the last word? She'll love how I included this picture.