Adolescence can be difficult. I would venture to say that is true for most young people. But usually those growing-up years are forgotten as adults, when we are parents and face to face with the struggles and rebellion of our own children.
In Jungian psychology, that difficult period in adolescence would be called a process of individuation, where the teen is becoming an individual, distinct from their parents and others. The fundamental truth is, we are all separate and distinct creatures, and whatever we receive biologically or socially from others, we are still our own unmistakable persons and are fated to a discovery process. Problematically, some of us dont discover the truth of who we are until were ready to leave this life.
My father was a minister. He started out in the Lutheran Church, but with a divorce and remarriage to my mother, he gravitated to a more liberal denomination. Even so, he remained quite conservative in his theology and home life. Children went to church on Sundays, and every other day when some activity took place. We were immersed in church life.
I was able to start learning rebellion with a sister two years older. I watched her smoke a cigarette in my bedroom as she blew the smoke out my window. I learned from her you could tell our parents a story without it being a lie, just a shady kind of truth that evaded punishment. And as I chose more and more rebellious friends my own age, hell raising became a way of life.
Half a life anyway. The other half was church.
Living at home and still going to school, I couldnt escape the regular Sunday church service and some other obligations, like teaching church school and singing in the choir. These responsibilities were alright with me. I didnt resist much. I half enjoyed the children I taught and learned a little myself in the process. And the choir gave me an opportunity to do something meaningful with adults, who treated me like another adult, although Im sure some of them knew of my wayward adolescent behaviors.
Besides, the other rebellious half of my life took place during the week, especially on Friday and Saturday nights. Most of my friends were home in bed on Sunday mornings, recovering from the party the night before.
Teaching church school, I began to think seriously about teaching as a profession. It led me to practice teaching my last year in college and a degree in education. Throughout the years, education has been a secondary occupation to ministry, offering teaching experiences in seven different colleges and universities over the time of my ministry.
Singing in the choir on Sunday morning, we sat in the choir loft. We were seated behind the altar and pulpit. I could watch the back of my fathers head. Usually I zoned out during the sermon. But one day I happened to be listening and it made all the difference. I dont know what he said, but in my mind flashed, thats the Truth. It was a capital T Truth! It began a life-long search for the real thing; enough of the lies and half truths.
A second experience in the choir loft was also formative. The church collected gently used clothing for missions. On this particular Sunday the collected clothing was being dedicated in a ceremonial way. Unfortunately, someone had included dirty and torn things that were obviously inappropriate. Someone was certainly embarrassed as my father called attention to them in the ceremony. I learned that gifts carry spirit; or not.
Two small unexpected events in the choir loft out of hours of drinking and hell raising. Yet I look at them as formative in my adolescent development. Gradually, my studies and academic life superseded the partying and a sense of direction began to emerge. Imagine my surprise when after practice teaching in college, I decided to follow in my fathers steps into the ministry, which I had sworn in my teen years I would never do.
Individuation, conversion, take your pick. Lives change; gradually or in an instant. We dont always know when or how it might happen. So we shouldnt give up hope. Maybe a friend or loved one is on a paved road to hell. Maybe they are already living there.
A word of truth or a gift of spirit can change the dynamic. They can be the agents, helping someone realize who they truly are; a child of God, like no other.
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