Ricardo and the Metal-head, Ukulele-playing, Mexican-American, Greaser-Crew

We call them the “Greasers.” They are about five or six freshmen and sophomore students who come to UrbanLife faithfully and call it home.  This summer, with less students around, I finally got to know this crew.  

All teenagers are trying to discover who they are and how they fit in.  It is just painfully and endearingly obvious with this group.  I mean, how many Mexican American teenagers do you see rocking Metallica t-shirts, slicking their hair with a black pocket-comb and strumming Hawaiian tunes on their ukuleles?  They long to be a part of a sub-culture.  And, whether they admit it or not, they long to fit in.

The “Greasers” also long to be known and loved.   

So where do I find a leader that can connect to this complicated crew?

In my own family.

Ricardo.

Ricardo has some chameleon-like qualities himself.

True stuff:  He is Mexican.  He is American.  As recent as last week, he had knotty dreadlocks. He (used to) slick his hair.  He owns a ukulele.  And what really matters: He can connect with just about anyone, anywhere.

Fresh off of 4 months of world travel, Ricardo is in the process of discovering his purpose.  At least a piece of it may be found in loving and serving this particular crew.

I am so proud of Ricardo.  I am proud of the way he befriended these guys.  I am proud of how he led them throughout the week.  I am proud of how he pushed them into new and often challenging and scary experiences.  I am proud of how he modeled confidence and the ability to cut loose.   

Would you pray with me for these guys?  Pray that God will use Ricardo in the coming school year as a safe and inspiring mentor in their lives.  Pray that Ricardo will also discover more of his giftedness through his leadership with the “Greasers.”

There was a moment at camp where incarnational ministry became real to me.  For the 1980’s dance party, the Greasers brought some metal rock music from that era on a CD.  They convinced the DJ to play it.  And I promised to take part in the mosh pit.   When the guitar came in, the dance floor mostly cleared.  In the middle, bumping and slamming into one another, was Ricardo, myself, a couple brave African American dudes, and the whole Greaser posse.   This was their world.  And we got to enter it, if only for half a song.

If the Greasers long to be a part of a sub-culture.

Why not the sub-culture of Christian disciples?

I am praying it goes down like that.

I can see it now:  

UrbanLife’s own Christ-following, Metal-head, Ukulele-playing, Mexican-American, Greaser-Posse.

Single Track Squeals

Courtney's hands gushed sweat the whole way up the mountain.  On the asphalt road, he tried hard to think about other things.  On the bumpy dirt road, the knots in his stomach got tighter and tighter.  If you had looked into his eyes, the fear would have been obvious.   But he wasn't about to admit it.  Not in that company:

Courtney had never learned to ride a bike.

The complication with the scenario, was that our cabin was headed for a single track, double black diamond mountain bike trail.  Once the van dropped us off, the only way back was down the trail.

I rode in the middle of the pack. Guys squealed like girls and brakes squealed like angry mice. Thrill seeped through their pores.

Courtney was more like a drunk driver though.  He struggled to stay on the track.  His near-collisions with  trees and boulders added up.   Somehow...someway...he made it through the forest trail.   He didn't even go over the handle bars.  He didn't even slide out.

At the bottom, he finally copped to one of us:  "I have never ridden a bike before."

Really Courtney?
That would have been good to know.
Dude: you b--a--r--e--l--y made it.
I'm glad you are safe.
I'm proud of you.


Camp is like this though.   This very dynamic is why we take youth out of the city and up into the mountains.   They experience new things.  They are faced with fears.  They overcome them.

And...they realize new giftings.  They begin to wonder who God created them to be.

I'm pretty sure Courtney is not believing God created him to be a downhill biker.  But he is beginning to wonder about his purpose.   He is starting to imagine how God might use his love of athletics (football & wrestling), his knack for busting rhymes, and his welcoming hospitable nature.

Call students to be all that God created them to be.

If this is all we do at UrbanLife, I am all in for a long long time.