Cool

       Several years ago, my church and I hired an interim youth minister.  In an attempt to bring some energy to our youth ministry, we settled on a young man I’ll call him Isaac.  He reminded me of a cross between Michael W. Smith and Bono.  Let’s just say charisma and “cool”-ness surrounded him like a professional entourage. 
            I discovered the depths of his coolness the first time he visited me in the church office.  He wore a pair of jeans with huge ragged tears down the front and back and a beret on his head.  Who wears this except cool people?  The ministry assistants in the office assumed he was there for benevolence until he walked into my office.  Seeing their shocked expressions reinforced my impression – cool! 

            Coolness exuded from everything Isaac did.  He played the guitar and wrote his own music.  Cool.  He burned incense in his office as a part of his prayer routine.  Cool.  He wore suits from the thrift store to our traditional service with wide 70’s collars and huge tie knots.  Cool.  He loved to surf and carried a surf board in his car to work in case the waves were good.  Cool.  His long hair often looked like he just woke up.  Cool.  He once wore a turban – yes, a turban – to a church conference where the average age in the room was at least 70.  Still cool – although I had to explain his coolness to a few folks afterwards. 

The best part of Isaac’s coolness, though, was he didn’t realize how cool he was.  He was not trying to be cool.  It was not forced.  He was not offering some inauthentic version of himself to the youth group or the church.  He was just being himself – a young man who loved Jesus and wanted others to love Jesus too.  And they did! 

For about a year and half, while the church searched for a permanent youth minister, Isaac led teenagers (and adults) to fall in love with Jesus.  He discipled them as he taught them to play the guitar.  He created a Christian community out of diverse kids – skateboarders, goths, athletes, and musicians – and gave them a place they could be real with each other and Jesus.  It was more than his coolness, though, that left lasting impressions on the kids and adults who knew him those months - it was his authenticity as a minister. 

            As the most un-cool person and pastor I know, I stood in awe at Isaac’s coolness.  His lessons to me in coolness – like the time he tried to teach me to surf – never stuck.  However, by the time our church blessed him and sent him on to his next ministry, I had learned much about the power of authenticity in ministry.  Whether cool or uncool – what the world needs from me as a minister of the Gospel is my real self.  More than the world, though, God desires the same thing from me – and us.  To loosely paraphrase Romans 12:1:  God wants us to present our real selves – cool or uncool – to him as living sacrifices for this is our spiritual worship.  I am grateful for friends like Isaac who serve as reminders to these biblical truths.