Cybercolumn by Brett Younger: My speech to the high school seniors

Posted: 5/17/06

CYBER COLUMN:
My speech to the high school seniors

By Brett Younger

Your alarm goes off way too early. It’s irritating, but you’re used to ignoring it. Then your mother starts her imitation of your alarm, which is harder to ignore. You plead, “Five more minutes, Mom.” She bellows, “You don’t have five minutes,” but you know you do, if you skip the milk and put your fruit loops in a plastic bag you can eat in the car.

The bathroom mirror is also irritating. Your hair looks like you slept on it, while wearing a hat, and being electrocuted. You sprinkle some water on your head and hope for the best.

You’re almost awake when you get to chemistry, which is super frustrating. For some unknown reason, chemistry has rules, but 90 percent of the rules are broken 90 percent of the time, and then the teacher says, “This is one of those odd cases, just memorize it.” Consequently the exceptions to the rules make up the rules and the rules are wrong more than they’re right.

English literature isn’t much of an improvement. Who decided Pride and Prejudice is interesting? Mrs. Bennet makes your own mother look normal, Keira Knightley is a lot more appealing than Elizabeth, and something is seriously wrong with Mr. Darcy.

Calculus isn’t the most helpful class in the world. Integrals, derivatives, optimization, implicit differentiation—these are not words that come in handy very often. The teacher drones on and on, sounding like she’s speaking a foreign language, which makes it different from your next class.

Because your Spanish teacher doesn’t speak a foreign language. He’s a football coach whose Spanish might get him through a visit to Taco Bell.

Your friends want to go to Mama’s Pizza for lunch. You point out that you went to Mama’s yesterday, but apparently, “Let’s do something different” isn’t a persuasive argument. Your friends almost never do anything out of the ordinary. They tell the same Chuck Norris jokes over and over.

You’re late getting back to European history, but you didn’t miss anything. For what seems like a century, you’ve been reviewing the revolutions of the 19th century, a century you’re relatively certain will not be coming back.

You’re glad when school is over. When you get home, you go online to the same places you went yesterday—bored.com, stupidvideos.com, killsometime.com. You check your e-mail, play a little Minesweeper, some Free Cell for variety.

There’s nothing on TV. You’re not sure you “get” Oprah. You briefly consider reading the phone book but take a nap instead.

When your parents get home, the inquisition begins: “How was your day?” “Who did you eat with?” “What did you learn?” “Did you talk to any one who’s cute?”

Then the nagging starts. Your parents can’t seem to get that the more they tell you to do something, the less likely you are to do it in a timely manner. It’s a simple rule.

You fear that certain parental phrases will be ringing in your head for the rest of your life: “Pick up your clothes.” “Make your bed.” “Finish your vegetables.” “Don’t stay out late.”

The lectures fit into two categories—the importance of things of which you already know the importance, and things that aren’t important but which your parents inexplicably believe to be important.

It’s probably been this way forever. It was more this way than not 2,000 years ago. It’s easy to forget that Jesus’ disciples were younger than they look in stained glass, which seems to add about 20 years. No one is certain, but in all probability, the disciples were teenagers or close to it.

All the disciples had Jewish mothers. It couldn’t have been long since they pleaded with their mothers to sleep five more minutes. They had bad hair days. They got tired of the same old thing for lunch. They faced the same fear of ending up with a dull job and no life.

The most excitement they ever knew began when John the Baptist showed up. John is an alarm clock without a snooze button. He’s a wild character shouting that a normal day isn’t nearly enough, that things have to get better, and he means now. John imagines a world of justice and compassion, the kind of world the best high school seniors imagine.

John the Baptist is standing with two of his students when Jesus walks by. John says: “That’s the one. That’s the one to follow. You know how cocky I can be, but I’m not worthy to tie his sandals.”

The disciples start following Jesus. He turns and asks, “What are you looking for?” They answer nervously, “We thought we’d see where you’re staying.” In other words, “We don’t have anything better to do, so we’re wondering what you’re doing.” Jesus offers the invitation that will change their lives, “Come and see.”

They stay with Jesus all day, because he’s interesting. They have no idea what they’re getting themselves into. They don’t know that they will end up leaving behind their nets, homes and friends. They’ll change their ideas about almost everything.

We go to church to discover what we’re getting ourselves into. We don’t know what we’ll be leaving behind or what ideas we’ll change. We are here to open ourselves to God, who’ll lead us to new places. We are here because the people who follow Jesus have extraordinary lives.

The sad truth is that most people are bored. They’re tired of measuring their lives by how they’re doing in their family’s eyes or in the eyes of people doing better than they are or worse than they are. If you’re going to have a full life, you need to remember that you’re not your bank account or your ambitions or your parents’ ambitions.

Your parents are good people, but some parents—not yours, yours are fine—desperately want their children to make enough money that they can be sure that they’re not moving back home. They want you to have success, but you recognize that some of the most miserable people are successful. Don’t set your sights on a successful life, set them higher. Live a joyful life. Plan for the future, but leave room for the Spirit.

Don’t be superficial with your faith. Don’t work toward a job you’d be embarrassed to talk to God about. Don’t turn your head when you see someone hurting. Don’t believe the lies on MTV or Fox News. Don’t waste your life on things that don’t matter, not when there is so much that does.

Stay curious. Listen to the lonely. Feed the hungry. Love and be loved. Find good friends who know how to laugh. Care for children. Make the world less racist, less militaristic and less materialistic. Think about the faith you have and the faith you wish you had. Make the church more like Christ. Make your lives wonderful.

“Come and see” is how the disciples’ story begins. It’s a great way to start a story. “Come and see” is the invitation to explore without knowing exactly where we’re going, but to know that if we catch a glimpse of God, we’ll also catch a glimpse of who we can be. Don’t waste this one odd and precious life you’ve been given. Come and see what it means to imagine, hope, and believe.

Brett Younger is pastor of Broadway Baptist Church in Fort Worth and the author of Who Moved My Pulpit? A Hilarious Look at Ministerial Life, available from Smyth & Helwys (800) 747-3016. You can e-mail him at byounger@broadwaybc.org.