Lost Teens Lost Faith

Until a few months ago, I never understood the damage institutional conformity can potentially inflict on an individual. By God’s divine hand, I met up with a student I hadn’t talked to in years. We made it through the awkwardness of the initial conversation, caused by the fact that we both needed to be somewhere yet we just asked each other for a five-year life summary. In the end, though his words spoke of all he’d accomplished, his eyes told a different story, one that deeply concerned me. They were devoid of the spark associated with a deep passion for life. At the end of the conversation, I told him I’d love to go for coffee with him so that we could relax and catch up, and he agreed to my request. I think he gave me his number thinking I’d never really call him.

I did, and a week later we sat in a coffee shop with a drink in front of us. It did not take long for him to open up. This time, instead of talking of successes, he spoke of hurt. And Cameron did so in a way where he began with the outcome. He said, “A few weeks ago I tried to kill myself, but I’m doing better now. I’m medicated, and I spoke with a psychiatrist in the hospital about why maybe I’d try to do something like that to myself. I’ve tried before. This was not the first time. I think the first time I tried was in grade six, then again in grade 12. Really, I don’t know the reason. It’s not like I had a bad childhood or anything like that.”

As we continued on in the conversation sometimes we delved deep trying to search for understanding. But really, there was no intention behind my search other than to rebuild a relationship with a student who I’d lost touch with for a few years. I simply listened in order to empathize with his hurt. So we spoke about the incident, we reminisced, we spoke of old acquaintances, and new friendships he’d formed since high school.

I never brought up faith. Although, at one point, he said, “No offence Mr. Bird, but I’m no longer a Christian.” Then he said, “I have done a lot of research and I can explain to you why Evolution is fact. All science supports Evolution.” I replied, “I’m sure we could have a lengthy discussion as to our opposing views, but I’d rather not. Cameron, I’m not here to debate with you, and I’m not even here to try to reconvert you. I’m here to have coffee with a former student. I’m interested in your life, in you, that is all.” He looked surprised.

Then he inquired as to why I would not debate the topic with him. I replied, “We could talk about the issue, but I’ve discovered a truth beyond the debate. In the last year, I’ve spoken with hundreds of people, most of whom do not have Christ, and most of them have lived their lives to the fullest. They’ve made lots of money, traveled extensively, and built their dream houses. They’ve lived life. And in doing so, they also carry a backpack full of experiences they have no idea what to do with. They carry around hurt, bitterness, guilt. They’ve abused others, been abused themselves, been divorced, searched for meaning, struggled with identity, chronically lived with insecurity. Most of them self medicate, with food, with alcohol, with drugs, some prescription and others illegal. Some have sons who’ve gone to jail, and others have children who’ve died. Some have children who live but who want nothing to do with them or vice versa. So we could debate right now about how this planet and its inhabitants came into existence, but really the more pressing issue is purpose. People search for purpose, and they want to know who they are. They want assurance that all the pain they’ve endured is worth something. And in order to uncover purpose, humans need a place to take all that burdens them. Faith offers me this. Christ offers humanity this.”

We spoke of many subjects after the avoided debate, but Cameron kept revisiting my reasoning behind why I would not debate with him. The words made a deep connection with him. He did so until we were told by the barista it was closing time and then as we exited the coffee shop, Cameron said, “Mr. Bird, I have no idea who I am. I can be anything for anyone and that’s what I’ve been my entire life. I can debate either side of a topic, or I can sit and listen and say nothing. I can be polite and respectful, and I can be rude and obnoxious. I can be the perfect gentleman in front of my girlfriend’s parents, and be chauvinistic when I’m with my friends. I can sound intelligent in educated crowds and crass when I’m with the undereducated. I’ve been pretending so long I’ve lost myself.”

I realize Cameron’s life is complicated because everyone’s life is complicated, but I can’t help but wonder what part his Christian schooling played in his self confusion. I’d never go so far as to blame the Church or the school, but even if they were not a part of the problem, why were they not part of a solution? And will they be part of a solution before it’s too late?

There’s no conclusion to Cameron’s story, which is good in a way. We continue to meet and discuss life, and build relationship. And each time we do, I’m reminded he is a poster child for Christian teens who’ve lost faith. He grew up in a Christian home. He attended church. He spent the entirety of his grade school years at a Christian institution, yet he has no idea who he is. He does not believe purpose is found in Christ, or that it is the starting point of the journey to discovering self. Cameron grew up in the Christian community and now desires nothing to do with “the family of God.” Why? Calvinists would say God simply did not choose Cameron, and Arminianists would say he may end up choosing God at any point in his journey. A conservative Christian would say Cameron was too exposed to the world too early, and a liberal Christian would say the Christian school sheltered him too much. A creationist would say Cameron is tainted by evolutionary ideology and does not know who he is because he believes he evolved; whereas, an evolutionary scientist would blame forced institutionalized beliefs for his lack of purpose.

What would Christ say? I suspect if this group approached Him for a solution, He just might stoop down and write in the sand for a while and then when He straightened up He might respond, “There was a man who owned a vineyard…” To which all those involved in the debate over Cameron’s life might just figure Christ has no idea what He’s talking about. What does grape growing have to do with the young man’s salvation? I envision the debaters turning away to carry on their conversation, while Christ walks over and puts His arm around Cameron’s shoulders and says, “May I join you on your journey. I have much to tell you about a man who has a vineyard, and I suspect you’re in a place where you’re ready to talk about vineyards.”