I’m embarrassed I didn’t mention this

Just call me dad of the year

I’m somewhat embarrassed that I didn’t mention this in Friday’s Memo given its importance to me. I’ll chalk it up to it being Good Friday and my decision to run my public column about the Savior rather than a separate thought that day. But last week on Tuesday, my oldest daughter Addie made her public confession of Jesus, repented of her sins, and was baptized into a new life in Christ.

Her decision followed her younger sister’s last year.

Jenny and I pray together at bedtime, and last Tuesday night she gave me a high five and said, “Two down, one more to go.” Grayson – the last little heathen walking around the Heck house – has already expressed an interest in becoming a believer himself, but we’re well aware he’s a little too immature to fully understand what it’s all about yet.

The funny thing is, as much as Jen and I joke about “two down,” the truth is that our job is far from finished. In many ways it’s just beginning. Discipling our children towards making a personal decision to follow Jesus has been a big priority for us, no question. And I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I wanted to offer a gigantic sigh of relief when I dunked them both in the symbolic water. I’m certainly not the only parent to testify to the fact that seeing your kid(s) love Jesus and want to live for Him is an incredibly joyful and emotional moment.

But now they are baby Christians, and the discipling has to become even more intentional. Here’s why. Just a couple days after I baptized Addie, I was talking with a handful of my high school students, one of whom said to me, “Hey…Easter this Sunday…big weekend for you, isn’t it?” I played along and told them I felt like I was ready to deliver the performance of a lifetime. They laughed and one of them said, “I might actually come to your church on Sunday.”

I told them how impressed I would be if they willfully chose to listen to me teach given that they are compelled by the state to do so five of the other days of the week. A couple of the others admitted that they were more likely to just stay in bed. “Sorry, man,” one of them said.

I get why they said sorry to me. In our consumer culture that has affected everything, including church, they’ve been raised to believe that “success” at church means more butts in seats. Big auditorium, a lot of filled seats, a large budget, a good show that can hold people’s attention, neat programs that can lure people to get involved…that’s the sign of an effective body.

But that just isn’t it. Don’t get me wrong, I was as excited as anyone to see all the seats filled on Sunday morning, and get to share the good news of Christ’s resurrection from the grave and His offer of salvation with people I haven’t seen in a year or haven’t ever seen before. But if that’s what tells me I’m doing a good job preaching the Gospel, what happens next week when not nearly so many people show up?

Call me crazy but I think God’s intention with His church is to disciple believers – growing us to be more faithful, resilient, holy, and set apart from the world. We are to gather each week to corporately praise His name through song, to fellowship with and encourage one another, to share communion and remember the Lord’s finished work at Calvary, and be taught by the Apostle’s doctrine. Each weekend that we do that is just as “big” as any other.

Now, I don’t expect those students of mine to grasp that because they’ve not been discipled to think like Jesus. They think like the world. Not just on this topic, but every topic. Even apologizing to me for choosing to sleep rather than come to church reveals a staggering and sad confusion. They aren’t to come for me. I didn’t die for their sins. Living their lives to please me would have no ultimate purpose. But living for Jesus? An eternity’s worth.

Which brings me full circle. That’s why I say that Jenny and I have work that is just beginning – training these two young baby Christians in our household to understand how to think like a follower of Jesus, how to absolutize the things of God, how to value and treasure what He values and treasures, how to abstain from the sinful desires that will entice them. After all, whether that’s something “serious” like sexual immorality, or it’s something “simple” like preferring to sleep in on Resurrection Sunday, those desires lead us all away from the One who alone is worthy of our first and best.

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ICYMI…

Here was that Resurrection Sunday message that my group of students slept through…

Also, anyone paying attention to our collapsing culture has surely noticed how fast the snowball is rolling down the slippery slope, particularly when it comes to our society’s sexual immorality. I wrote a couple columns on that front that I think would be worth your time:

• Biden declares trans people “made in the image of God,” but erases the end of the verse

• There’s no millstone large enough for the neck of a society like this