As a formally trained economist from my college days, I know that numbers can be made to mean just about anything you'd like them to, depending on the context in which you place them. Give me some numbers, and I can produce a graph that shows them in either a positive or a negative light, depending on your point of view.
And so I'm careful to put forth numbers as evidence of something involving the Holy Spirit. I get uncomfortable when people talk about attendance figures at their churches or youth groups, as if these numbers provided proof of a real and relevant connection with Christ.
That being said, the numbers from last week's CHIC (www.noordinaryday.org) event in Tennessee are pretty astounding. Close to 6000 high school students gathered together to worship God, and seek his will for their lives. Over $100,000 generously given by those students as an offering to God, to be used for a village in the Sudan; enough to provide a school (with teachers and supplies) as well as a medical clinic (again, with supplies). Close to 600,000 meals prepared and boxed for shipment by those students, in conjunction with a wonderful organization by the name of Feed My Starving Children. Hundreds of students standing to signify their commitment to following Christ's call into full-time ministry of some sort. Absolutely amazing numbers.
But I am uncomfortable with numbers. Except for the number "one". "One" can't be manipulated. "One" can't be turned around. "One" has meaning that is constant, especially when it comes to talking about how the Holy Spirit moves in the lives of people. And so the most impressive number to me from CHIC is "one". One student, from my group, who stood up on Wednesday evening in the midst of a powerful service of worship, to give his life to Christ, and accept God's free gift of salvation. There were lots of others who did the same that night, and the number of those who made first time commitments to Christ would be not only impressive, but also beautiful. But the "one" is what is most important, and ultimately most impressive and most beautiful. For "one" cannot be tainted by contexts. That "one" life has now found new life in Christ, through the ministry of the Holy Spirit and an event with a weird name, known as CHIC, where that Spirit was present.
People always want to know about numbers when I return from CHIC. "How many?" "How much?" I'm thrilled to be able to tell them about the most important number of all from last week..."one".
On Saturday, (at the ungodly hour of 3:30am) I will be taking 19 high school students to our denominational (www.covchurch.org) youth conference (CHIC), held once every three years. CHIC, which stands for "Covenant High in Christ", is located once again this year at the less-than-lovely, concrete jungle known as the University of Tennessee at Knoxville. The entire city is bright orange. I kid you not.
I attended CHIC as a student back in 1984 at the University of Wyoming at Larramie. My older sister attended CHIC in 1976 at Estes Park, Colorado. My younger sister attended CHIC in 1988 at Colorado State University in Fort Collins. That's just my family, and yet it shows a sampling of how CHIC has been there for students over the generations. The early attenders (50 years ago) numbered only around 200 or so, and showed up for meetings in ties or skirts. My older sister's group numbered in the hundreds, wearing bell bottoms. I had a couple thousand and wore shorts and t-shirts (which I still do). My younger sister had over 3,000, and plenty of MTV haircuts were seen. This year, there will be over 6,000 kids, and tattoos and piercings will be plentiful.
CHIC has been a constant in the Covenant, as we have attempted to minister to high school students who are in a constantly changing culture. And the constant within CHIC itself, has been a strong sense of calling kids to accept Christ as Lord, and Savior, of their lives. It would have been easy for CHIC to turn into simply a platform for whatever the "social issue of the day" was, and yet CHIC has remained faithful to that core call to commitment. Although there is (and rightly so) opportunites within CHIC to discuss, learn about and initiate action for areas of social justice, that has never become the predominant theme. Knowing, loving and following Christ remains at the center. I'm proud to be a part of such a wonderful, life-changing event.
19 students head out on Saturday am. They are all great kids, excited and passionate about their faith. When they return the next Friday evening, I fully expect all 19 to be even more so. In fact, I expect them to return with faith on fire. How blessed I am to have the opportunity to call them brothers and sisters in Christ.
This past week, the family spent some vacation time in the beautiful White Mountains of New Hampshire, specifically at a friend's chalet at the base of Loon Mountain in Lincoln. Besides the constant deluge of rain, it was a good week together, away from the demands (both trivial and important) of daily life at home. We played games, hiked the glacial boulder caves at the top of Loon, visited Santa's Village and Story Land, swam in the Pemigawasset River, and took a short train ride through some of the most beautiful country you will find in all of New England. I even had a close up encounter with a very large black bear one evening!
And as much as I tried, I wasn't able to leave it all behind. Too much going on at church to simply release it all for the week. An important, controversial vote. A family in deep crisis. Upcoming change in the lives of good friends. "Home" was never too far from my mind.
On Wednesday, Elsie (our 2 year old), started asking us if we would ever go back to "the white house with windows". We had no clue what she meant, and wondered if it was some place we had visited in the last few days on our vacation. It took us a few hours before my wife figured out that "the white house with windows" was actually our home here in North Easton (a white cape with dormer windows facing out on the 2nd floor). In her 2-year old mind, which was comprehending "vacation" for really the first time, it was possible to her that this chalet was our new home, and that we might never return to our old home. She was simply missing her bed and toys, in spite of having fun "on the mountain". She just wanted reassurance that she would indeed return home to "the white house" someday soon. I assured her that we would.
Vacations are so good, and I am constantly amazed by those who do not take or use their vacation time to be with their families. But so is coming home again. Not only is it the place where your bed and toys are, but it is the place where the things that you care most about, and are most connected with, are. The things that never leave your heart and thoughts no matter how far away you might be.
