Hey: I am Cusper

I recently found out that I am a “Cusper.”  I guess I should be somewhat relived that my generation at least has an identity.   In case you are puzzled, Custers are those born on the “cusp” of a generation.  I was born in 1946 and always was labeled as a Baby Boomer but in reality I do not fit the mold.  While most Baby Boomers want to retire and move to Sun City, or some similar “senior adult” community, I have no desire to spend the rest of the life play cards and hanging with other “old” people.  I definitely do not see myself as a member of the “Silent Generation.”  Other than hearing World War II from my Uncle Don, a WW II Veteran, I have no experience with that conflict.  Now I have a hanger on which I can place my generational cap.  I am a “Cusper.”

Okay, I am not a Cusper in the current context.  That is a term that seems to be reserved for those born on the cusp of the Millennial and Gen Z generations.  Loosely, they are those born during the last decade of the 20^th Century.  As a group, they are less self-absorbed and more focused than Millennials but not as driven to change the world as Gen Z’s. They also have vague memories of 9/11 and can recall life before hand-held mobile devices.  Like many Gen Z’s, Cuspers tend to be driven by social and environmental issues.  They desire to affiliate with organizations that are engaged with the world and the community.  They want to make a difference in the world.  Ministries to the homeless or economically challenged are important to them.  They will support efforts to feed starving children whether it is in Africa or inner city America.  They also are environmentally conscious.

It is probably best to remember that all Generational labels are arbitrary.  Not every person born within a period of time is going to be exactly like every other person their age.  God has created us each as a unique individual.  That uniqueness is what makes the world an interesting place but it can also frustrate those who desire to market a product or design a ministry to reach them.  In the case of those born too late to be a “true” Millennial and too old to a genuine member of Generation Z, they now have a generational identity. 

That does not make it easier to minister to the current Cuspers.  Part of that is their transient lifestyle.  Many of them are still in college, meaning they drift in and out of our lives.  Even if they are starting a career, they are probably still struggling to establish an adult identity.  All of which serves as a reminder that we need to not focus on ministering to a generation and more on reaching individuals one on one.

A Culture of Bullying

I do not talk about it much, but I was bullied when I was in grade school.  I distinctly remember being a victim while in 5^th and 6^th grades.  Reflecting back, I can understand why I was an easy target.  I was at the bottom on the food chain academically and unusually tall making my very uncoordinated.  My name did not help; my nick name was “cow brain.”  Then there was our family car.  While other dads drove Ford, Chevrolets or Dodges, my dad drove a 53 Willys.  Fortunately, the taunts stopped when I got to junior high and a couple of the antagonists transferred to other schools.  Still, I carry the memories with me.  As a school counselor had my radar up and watched for any students who might be a victim of bullying.

While bullying is still an issue a school environment, it probably carries more impact today.   While most of my classmates were aware of my plight, thanks to social media it might appear to today’s victims that the whole world knows.  Instagram is the social media site favored my most teens  It is projected that 80% or more of today’s middle and high school students are on Instagram.  The social media site allows individuals to make anonymous comment, and even form groups for the purpose of taunting others.  Coupled with the reality that everyone else seems to have a perfect image online.  After all, who is going to post uncomplimentary pictures of themselves.  Social media is a blessing and a curse.  It is no surprise that recent studies point to the reality that teens who are bullied are twice as likely to attempt suicide. 

Parents and school personnel cannot shoulder the responsibility for stopping bullying.  All of us need to have our eyes open watching for signs of bullying.  One sign is teens who seem to be isolated or by themselves.  It is especially important that we watch for those indicators in teens that are close to us.  Even as older adults we can help by offering encouraging words and by lifting them up in prayer.  We can also combat the issue by not becoming part of the culture of bullying ourselves.  Our words should always convey love, not hate and intimidation.

The Future of the Church

As I write this I am sitting in the lobby of a hotel in Minneapolis.  This place has been my home for the last week as I served on the adult care team for the LCMS National Youth Gathering.  I am mentally and physically exhausted.  I have walked an average of 18,000 steps (about 7 miles) over the last five days.  During that time I have ministered to more folks than I can count as I help folks walk through the highs and lows of a youth gathering.  I have also reconnected with numerous friends from various chapters of my past. 

I have come away convinced of two things: the future of the church is bright and youth gatherings are worth the investment of both time and energy.  I have long maintained the mission trips and youth gatherings are important cornerstones in building the future church.  They can be life changing events for the young people who participate and a shot of encouragement to those adults who minister to them.  While I have no statistics to go on, I suspect a good percentage of the kids who attended this gathering will end up in professional ministry.  Another good percentage will pursue other careers but still reflect on this experience as they become adult disciples. 

Make no mistake: youth gatherings are not cheap.  As part of the gathering staff, my expenses including travel, lodging and meals, have been covered.  Multiply that by the two hundred community life builders and you begin to get the idea.  Putting together a program is also expensive.  Kids will be turned off if the media, lights and sound are not first-rate.  Toby Mac was the opening night concert.  Not a cheap act but well worth every penny, as shown by the response from the youth. 

Bottom Line: The church needs to continue support these events. Plans are already underway for the 2022 gathering in Houston.  I would encourage you to support your church’s youth ministry as well.  Make sure both the volunteer and professional staff are supported and cared for.  Support any fund raiser the youth group sponsors, they really do help defray the cost for events life this.  Pray daily for the teens and those who minister to them.  Most importantly: get engaged in ministering to a youth as well.  If you have a role in your church, consider who will be doing that in ten years.  Unless we mentor young people the church will lack the people resources it needs. 

What Will Our Kids Chuckle About?

I spent last week in Detroit helping my brothers and their spouses move my ninety-six year old uncle out of the house he has lived in for the last sixty plus years.  Uncle Don is a World War II Vet who never married.  Aside from my mom, who is in a nursing home and a sister who lives in Maryland, we are his only family.  Growing up it was like having a second dad.  He has done so much for me over the years it was easy to say “yes” when it was time to circle the wagons.  We have been after him for years to move out of the “old neighborhood” in the city. His block is still pretty stable and he has great neighbors but the surrounding streets are filled with abandoned and burned out homes.  

Uncle Don did make it to our 50 Anniversary celebration a few weeks back but left with a broken arm after a fall.  Independent soul that he is, he went back house but before too many days ended up calling 911.  Now he is in a rehabilitation facility.  Along the way his doctor told him no more independent living.  I guess we are grateful he finally listened to someone.  We moved his basic furniture into a one bedroom apartment in the same senior living community our mom lived in for almost fifteen years.  The good news is he has a safe place to move into once he is released from the hospital.  The bad news is we still have a house full of stuff to sort through before we can think about having an estate sale and then putting the house on the market. 

We have been down this road before when mom and dad closed out their home sixteen years ago.  Not an easy task.  Folks who survived the great depression tend to save things not knowing when they might need them.  We filled two dumpsters with “stuff” my dad in particular felt he might “need” someday.  That fact, coupled with the reality that almost everything you picked up has a memory attached to it makes it a real labor of love.  Thank goodness we can listen to “sixties music” and laugh as we work.

There are some lessons to be learned here: Don’t be afraid to ask for help, and when it is offered accept it.  Secondly, think before you put something away thinking you might need it in the future.  It might just be the stuff your kids chuckle about before tossing it in the dumpster.   

Reflecting on the Decline of The Daily Paper

I have always been a newspaper guy.  Growing up in Detroit our family subscribed to two daily papers; the morning Detroit Free Press and the afternoon Detroit News.  My primary focus was usually the sports section, reading the baseball box scores and tracking the leaders in the various categories.  I also read the front page and metro section.  Fall was always an exciting time in the Motor City and the papers featured the first images of the new models from the various manufacturers. 

While in high school I delivered the Detroit Free Press.  I arose at 5:00 AM and retrieved the papers that had been delivered to our front porch.  I folded all 150 papers and then placed them in a canvas sack that could be hung from the handlebars of my Schwin Bike.  I took my responsibility seriously.  The people on my route depended on me to provide them with the latest news.  There was an added benefit; I also perused the paper as I folded them.  I had a technique; my work area was the rear stairway where I would sit on the steps folding the papers, with the sport section tacked to the wall across from me. 

Barb and I still subscribe to the Dallas Morning News.  I sense we are a dying breed. We might be the only people on our block to still get a daily paper.  I am holdout and recently renewed our subscription for another year.  I know I could get much of the same information via television or radio (KRLD- News 1080) but there is something about reading the news and processing the information.  I also read the editorial section and while I do not always agree with the opinions expressed, I have learned the value of listening to alternative voices. 

Today, people have a choice when it comes to how they get their news.  For young folks, social media has become the top choice.  In my opinion, the problem with using social media as the primary source for information is two-fold; the individuals and sources within our social network often share our opinions or perspectives, and there is no filter on social media so it becomes difficult to distinguish “factual” from “fake” news. 

I would like to propose a solution to this problem.  We need to first acknowledge the power of social media and with it the reality of “fake” news.  At the same time we must 1) stay informed and 2) become engaged with those who might disagree with us.  That is not easy to do because our network of friends and associates usually is made up of people who are like us and often share our opinions.  It begins when we engage in discussions with those who represent other generations and opinions.  It requires stepping outside comfort zone on where we hangout and who we talk to.  Our church family is a great place to start.  If you have young folks in your congregation, get to know them and learn to listen to them. 

Father's Day: Memories of Dad

Today was Father’s Day.  I must admit I still miss my dad.  He died in August, 2004, a victim of cancer of the esophagus.  I got to spend a week with him about a month before he passed. We shared a lot of memories during that week.  I knew dad was slipping because one of the things on our agenda was watching the baseball All Star Game.  After the second inning dad informed me he was tired and needed to rest.  Dad had rule; you never left a baseball game before the final pitch.

Dad was member of Gideons International.  That week, each time I asked him what scripture he wanted to hear his response was the same; Judges 7.  When I asked him why he wanted to hear the story of Gideon defeating the Midianites over and over he said it was because of the lesson that you could do much with a little.  Dad was a living example of that.   He grew up during the Great Depression in a very unstable home environment.  He was raised by aunts and uncles on farms north of Detroit.  He did not graduate from high school until he was in his early twenties.  He served in the United States Coast Guard during World War II.  Dad was stationed in Detroit, and that is where he met my mom. 

After the war dad went to school to learn accounting.  We was a bookkeeper for a number of small companies before spending twenty plus years working for a gas pipeline company.  Dad was involved at church.  I remember him best as the Sunday school superintendent but also served as congregational president and treasurer.  He and mom also sang in the church choir.  Church was not an option in our family and it not surprising my one brother ended up a pastor and my sister a Lutheran school teacher.  Our youngest brother is also very involved in his church.

We moved into our first house when I was four.  It was a “small” bungalow.  My dad built the garage and then finished off the attic so that my brother Jim and I would have a bedroom.  Yes, dad was a handyman.  He was also a collector.  Our basement always contained a collection of old parts.  He had a special fondness for washing machine motors.  He turned them into table saws and grinders. 

Dad was a bowler and one of our favorite stories involves a shipment of defective bowling pins the bowling alley had received.  Dad claimed them and soon everyone in the family had a bowling pin lamp.  After I was married I was home visiting family and stopped by to see Pastor George Kurz who was the only pastor I knew growing up.  Sure enough, there was bowling pin lamp on his desk. 

All this leaves my wondering what kind of stories our kids will tell about me.  I am not the handyman my dad was.  I did not inherit my dad’s accounting skills; I am not even allowed to touch the checkbook.  He did bequeath me his love for music, although he was a tenor and I am bass.  If I have a servant’s heart, you can credit my dad.  There were no strangers in my dad’s world.  I credit him as the reason he and mom lived in the same house on the eastside of Detroit for over forty years.  Color of skin or economic make-up meant nothing to my dad.  Everyone was his neighbor.

My dad was an example of discipleship.  I pray that is the legacy I am passing on to Peter, Mark and Katie. 

Reflecting on 50 Years of Marriage

This weekend Barb and I are celebrating fifty years of marriage.  Our actual anniversary is June 14 but to accommodate family schedules we are celebrating the weekend before.  We are blessed to have so many friends and family members from various parts of the country join us for the festivities.  

In January of 1967 my life was in shambles.  A month earlier a long-term relationship with my high school sweetheart had come to an end.  I was also struggling academically.  My grade point average was so low there was a good possibility I would not be allowed to return from my junior year in college.  The “Great Snow Storm of 67” led to a turning point in my life.  Classes were cancelled but the student leaders seized the opportunity to plan the first on-campus dance in the history of the college.  I was living in an apartment off-campus but found a way to walk the two miles so I could attend the dance.  At the end of the evening my buddies informed me they were escorting a group of girls to their off-campus homes.  Everyone had paired off but there was on one to walk with Barbara Brown.  Little did I know how my life was about to change. 

Barb became my helpmate almost immediately.  She was an honor student and she was not going to allow me to fail.  Study dates became part of our routine.  She also offered to proof-read any major paper I wrote.  By the time we graduated my GPA was high enough to get me into graduate school and I had even made the Dean’s list.  We both graduated on Memorial Day Weekend in 1969 and were married three weeks later.  On July 1^st we began our ministry together at Trinity Lutheran Church in Cape Girardeau, Missouri.  Our ministry would take us back to the Chicago area for sixteen years and eventually to Texas. I had a career in youth ministry and Barb found a way to use her musical talents.  Along the way we were blessed to have three children and create lots of memories. 

Marriage is a life-long commitment.  Even our marriage has had its ups and downs but we remain dedicated to each other.  My prayer is that others might see that in our relationship.  The commitment that Christian couples have to each other might be the strongest testimony we can give to a world that often does not share our perspective; God’s plan is for one man and one woman to be joined together in a life-long journey.