Discipleship for Unbelieving Teens

A gift that accompanies most funerals is the opportunity to reconnect with long-distance family. This was certainly true the day of my father’s funeral last month, when my mom, sister, and I welcomed about thirty family members into my childhood home for a few hours before the service. I found myself in deep conversations with my dad’s many cousins, chatting about MIT admissions, the surprising culture scene in Norman, Oklahoma, and most memorably, about the faith lives of our children.

We talked about this cousin’s daughter finding a home in the Episcopal Church during graduate school and a significant other who harbors hostile feelings toward organized religion. I mentioned that our fourteen-year-old will likely be confirmed in December, if we can figure out how to work confirmation classes around the high school band schedule. We covered the “spiritual but not religious” population that continues to grow with each passing year. I admitted that this group confounded me at the onset of my priesthood, but now wish it were how my sixteen-year-old self-proclaimed agnostic identified, because I want him to believe in something bigger than himself, even if that something isn’t the same God I worship and follow.

At the mention of his name, our son joined the conversation, relaying that he does believe in something bigger than himself; he believes in the universe. He stated that he believes in what Jesus calls his disciples to do, and he does them—feeds the hungry, welcomes the outcasts, and shares what he has with others. He just doesn’t believe that Jesus is God. As I listened to him, I realizezed that as his mother, as his priest, this is enough for me. It’s enough because he’s doing the work of discipleship, even if he’s not proclaiming to be a disciple. 

I’ve thought about this conversation a lot over the past month, even preached about it at my church with my son’s blessing. I’d rather he do the work of a disciple than believe in a self-serving God who just wants folks to be nice. I’d rather he wrestle with his beliefs than embrace a watered-down version of Christianity like so many of his peers. I see him day after day intentionally trying to be the change he wants to see in the world, as Mahatma Gandhi is credited with saying over a century ago. Isn’t this type of global transformation what our faith is all about?

A few weeks later, I asked him with great curiosity what he thought happened to his grandfather after he died. He sat quietly for a minute, then acknowledged that he hadn’t given it much thought. I relayed that a great comfort of our Christian faith is believing death is not the end, that there is a fuller life with Christ and our beloved departed ones waiting for us. There’s no cost to believing this to be true. If it turns out nothing is waiting for us, no harm has been done. He pushed back, reciting hateful, judgmental rhetoric about the afterlife that’s been quite harmful to other people. He pushed back because that is what sixteen-year-olds are supposed to do. But then he recognized that he wanted there to be more for Doc.

Being a disciple of Jesus Christ is all about making choices that will benefit the least of these, support our neighbors, further Christ’s Reign, and best fulfill our baptismal promises. My son is making these choices now, not in the name of Jesus, but surely informed by a lifetime of hearing Jesus’ words and being shaped by supportive church communities. I trust that God’s power is transforming him, working within him, doing infinitely more than I can ask or imagine. That is most certainly enough.