CHURCH AND GEN Z: Why We Should Care – Part 3

• Valson Thampu

What does it mean to minister to the youth of today? Perhaps the best I can do by way of addressing this question is through my personal experiences in this field.

I became chaplain of St. Stephen’s College, Delhi, by sheer accident, in 1981. I was a member of the English faculty then. In a crisis situation, I was requested to be the lay chaplain of the college -the first Indian to hold that office.

For long the chapel had become a relic of the past. This served as a disincentive to many of the Christian students, who avoided the chapel, situated in the epicenter of the campus, to avoid adverse notice by their peers. Attending chapel services was tacitly assumed to be a sign of intellectual backwardness, the chapel lacked prestige. I realized right away that this had to change. The goal was to combat and eradicate a baseless prejudice. I understood this as analogous to the mission of John the Baptist who came ‘to prepare the way for the Lord’.

What I realized was that young people felt burdened by a formal obligation and resented anything ‘religious’ imposed on them, even by way of tradition. So, there was a need to shift chapel life from the zone of obligation to spontaneous choice. Young people should feel drawn to the chapel. How could this be done?

My greatest asset while young was that I had a deep sense of affinity to the young people under my stewardship. I believed that inspiring personal relationship was the true medium of education than ‘instructions’. I also realized the power of ‘friendship’ and understood, somewhat instinctively why Jesus said to his disciples, “I do not call you servants, but FRIENDS’. (St John 15:5). I knew friendship, fortified with spiritual discipline, had the power to break the shackles prejudice and negativity.

I had all along known that sincerity spoke very powerfully to young people; whereas they resented hypocrisy -the chasm between appearance and reality- in a leader. To illustrate this divulge humbly that the students of St. Stephen’s realizing that every day I was at my study at 3.30 am in the Principal’s Bungalow on the campus did more to fortify a culture of pursuing academic excellence than anything else I did. It was certainly more powerful than relentless exhortations to the students to take their college life seriously. Sincerity speaks more powerfully to the youth than anything else.

I learned from my young friends that this spiritual sincerity made a big difference in enlivening chapel life. I used to have intercessory sessions with students who volunteered to join me in the chapel. Among other items of prayer, we used to pray for ‘the destitute and dying’. One day, after the intercessory prayer, Sunil Caleb, my sacristan and an Economics (Hons.) student, told me that praying for the destitute and dying in the serene isolation of the chapel did not mean much to him. This rang a bell. The very next day, I took the group to Nirmal Hridya, Mother Teresa’s home for the Destitute and Dying. We spent three hours there doing whatever work was assigned to us and, at the end of it, had our intercessory session in the chapel of Nirmal Hridya. It is hard to exaggerate the difference this made. This shows that young people crave for authentic spiritual experience, and are never satisfied with words.

Perhaps, the most significant insight as the chaplain of St. Stephen’s College was that ‘Church must be a place of growth’. Looking into myself, I realized that what stimulated me most, what made me endure struggle, hardship, and privation was the sweet reward of growth. My study of the teachings of Jesus, my understanding of the genius of his spiritual vision, made me deeply convinced that ‘growth…’ -the outcome of which was ‘perfection’ (Mtt. 5:48) – was the quintessence of his vision and mission. This insight inspired every aspect of ministry I exercised during my tenure.

Perhaps I should close on a personal anecdote. Sometime in 2014, I landed in Imphal airport, on my way to Nagaland, where I was to address a conference. Only one of my former students knew this. But when I landed at the airport, a whole band of Stephanian alumni was there to greet me. It was led by Hemochandra Singh, a distinguished state politician, served both as a minister and speaker of the Assembly. In the conversation, Hemochandra was, still is, a practicing Hindu reminded me how regularly he used to attend chapel services on Sundays, ‘just to listen to the Gospel message’. Never mind, which religion you practice or subscribe to, your basic need is to grow.