I don’t think they’re useless, I think there are some very good and real benefits to them, especially from a pastoral perspective. I’m not denying that they might help Christians grow in knowledge and faith, deliver them from (some) temptations, provide a safe environment, provide a supporting community, and encourage Christian friends, among (no doubt) many other benefits. And all this at what is clearly a vital time for development.

The other side of the pastoral issue is this:
1. That is the job of parents and the Church. Of course there are cases where parents or the church don’t fulfil their role, in those cases Christian schools are great! But in general all of the above should be and can be found in healthy families and/or good churches.
2. It reflects a wrong view of the most ‘vital’ time. The time when most of your friends will fall away is not during school, though some do, but in the transition from school to uni and throughout uni. Secular unis, tafes, even workplaces provide not just intellectual challenges to faith but, and more importantly, lifestyle challenges. The question I have is ‘Does growing up in a sheltered environment make the transition easier, or more difficult?’
I don’t have a definitive answer, but here are my thoughts:
a) The difference is greater coming from a Christian school. Instead of the transition being a slight shift up a scale, it is a jolt onto a new scale altogether.
b) Coming from an already alcohol, drug, and sex environment prepares you for uni culture. I was already used to saying no, having courage of my convictions and standing up to peer-pressure. The difference of uni was one of magnitude, but not of kind. It was more of the same. (of course these same things happen at Christian schools, but I get the feeling that it is less common and less extreme). I just try to imagine someone who has never really been to an all-out party before trying to say no to a 20-year old guy holding a goon sack, yelling at you and telling you to open up.
c) After school, one needs to be independent in seeking Christian fellowship. There is no daily devotion at uni, no home-room tutor, no chapel. Stronger Christians, regardless of what type of school they came from, will have no problem seeking out the Christian group and/or a new church. But those who have relied on the institutionalised stuff and never became proactive (simply because they never needed to) might well slip off the radar if they don’t actively seek out other Christians.

So those, off the top of my head, are my pastoral concerns. But my biggest criticism is missional.

My heart is, and always has been, for mission. (So I think I tend to overlook the pastoral aspects sometimes.) This has been, I think, largely due to going to such a pagan school and seeing people I love dearly debauch their way to hell.

From a missional point of view, I think Christian schools (and sporting teams!!!) have a lot to answer for.
I recognise that these are not going to apply to every student in a Christian school, but in general:
1. They take missionaries out of the mission field. There were only 2 other Christians in my grade. The grade below me has 2 in total. That’s 5 Christians trying to reach over 200 lost people. I get emotional about this: every day of school was a conscious effort to try to start conversations, to lift your friends out of their unthinking daze, fend off attacks on your faith, answer objections, and, somehow, hope desperately to present the gospel faithfully. Please hear me: We could use more workers!
Imagine spreading your school alone (not to mention St. Philips, 7th Day Adventist ect) over the other Central Coast schools – there’s another 3 to 5 missionaries per school PER GRADE!

2. They disarm the missionaries. For sure, Christian schools probably provide the *tools* for missionaries in that they grow them in head knowledge. But they remove the urgency for active, desperate evangelism:

• A greater proportion of their friends are already saved.
• Those unsaved are less obviously so.
• The institution assumes responsibility, if not in fact than at least in perception.

Why try hard to share your faith? Most of your friends are Christians, and the ones that aren’t already hear it every week and they’re sick of it. (I’m not making this up, I’ve heard it from someone at your school)
Going to a secular school, surrounded by people who actively and openly reject the gospel, are proud of their sins, and are on their way to hell – it deepens your conviction of need daily! When all 10 of your best friends are unsaved: you can’t help but care. The missionary in a secular school is a deeply convicted one. From what I’ve seen, the missionary in a Christian school is an uncommon one.
This is born out by the CCEC nitechurch mission team: D—, R—, L—- and myself all went to secular schools (A— being the sole exception. He has been out of school a while though.)

3. On a related note, how many people in your grade openly challenge the truth of the Bible, the existence of God, the justice of God, their own sinfulness? And if they do, who answers them? The students or the teachers?
At CCGS, almost any remotely spiritually-related conversation brings intellectual and/or emotional objections to Christianity, and they are just as likely to come from the teachers. And by sheer need, any Christian who cares about the truth of their faith has to find answers: at first to satisfy themselves, and second to satisfy their friends.
You learn to identify the root of an objection, you learn how to express the truth (Biblical, historical ect) in a sensitive, understandable way, you learn to turn questions back on the questioner to reveal their assumptions, you learn to trust the Spirit to give you answers, and you learn to say “I don’t know”.
And you learn this through sheer need, through sheer repetition and trial-and-error.

When Craig D ran Life to the Full in Term 3 (or 4) last year, there weren’t many non-Christians but there were a lot of Nitechurch members (many of whom came from GPCC). He saw it as an opportunity to ask THEM questions, make THEM think. He, at least, saw this as a need (Dad helped run it, Craig explained to him what he was doing and the reasons for it.)

4. They allow the unsaved to hide. You know yourself that many of your colleagues do not have a real or personal faith. But which? And even those you can identify won’t accept it. They know all the ‘head answers’. The greatest protection against the gospel is thinking oneself already saved.
In a secular school, the true Christians are (generally) obvious, and (generally) all others are self-confessed pagans.

I fully recognise the missional advantages of having good schools with Christian teaching – Sam P, my youth leader, became a Christian because his NC mum sent him to GPCC. And, pastorally, I’m sure that some Christians in Christian schools would not still be Christians if they had gone to non-Christian schools. The implications of this are immense. But, and we will never know for sure, how many more might have been saved had the missionaries been in the mission field?

I’m pretty well out of ideas. Now the disclaimer: of course there will be exceptions to every single thing I’ve said. I’ve no doubt that Christian schools have produced passionate, equipped, convicted missionaries who test and challenge their ‘cultural Christian friends’, who are excellent apologists, and who are very well prepared to transition to the next stage of life. You might be one example. But generalisations work, and, at least from my perspective, I think these generalisations are valid. Many are very concerning.

I’m sure I’ve missed some things.

I guess to sum up my position, there are a lot of good things about Christian schools. For some people, they might mean the difference between falling away and staying strong. I certainly don’t think they are useless.
But ideally, in my view, their role would be replaced by the church and parents (as, IMO, it should be) and the harvest would receive many more workers.

——-

I’m sure lots of people will have strong views on this. I’d love to hear them. Leave a (gentle) comment below.

Leading British fair trade brand now popular enough to compete directly with Cadbury and Nestle – “yet is made and co-owned by 45,000 small-scale cocoa growers from the Kuapa Kokoo co-operative, spread across 1200 villages in Ghana.”

But apparently “coffee certification systems such as Fair Trade are hollow marketing apparatuses wrapped in charitable skin that injure the very population they ostensibly protect.”

Lots to think about, especially since Fair Trade Fortnight starts today.

What do you think? Leave a comment.

If there was a “Greatest Hero Award”, I know who would win it. I know because when we were shopping for camping supplies he bought the medal to go with his Santa Suit. Like all the great heroes of the past, he loves to have fun, has an insane sense of humour, is always ready for a surf, and he is a bloody awesome friend. His name is Will, everyone calls him Wilkin, and this is our story:

Part 1: The Beginning
The morning I met Will was just like any other Thursday morning. Enjoying the clear skies and the coolness of morning, a hint of warmth in the air, I climbed the seemingly endless paths through the school up from my bus stop. I threw open my locker and stuffed my bag inside. As I turned to join the group huddled in the playground, I caught a glimpse of someone I’d never seen before.
“Exchange student.” I thought, and kept walking.

As usual, no-one moved when the bell rang. Minutes later, as I dragged my feet towards my locker, I passed him again, tall and slim with hair that would have been emo but for its sandy colour. He was walking with a few other people. “Good, someone’s looking after him”.  I thought, feeling relieved of any responsibility.

Talking to a friend at lunchtime, I noticed him at his locker alone. “Lets go and say hi”, I suggested.  
“Go on then” she said. Driven more by my desire to avoid losing face than a concern for others, I walked over. I can’t remember the exact conversation, but it was probably something like this:

“Hey mate, Andrew” I volunteered in my typically awkward manner.
“Hi. Will” he replied. We shook hands.
“Where you from?”
England
“Oh yeah? You like cricket, then?”
“A bit”

Neither of us knew it, but in that moment we had discovered some small connection between us, through which we would come to be best of friends.

To be continued: Cricket, surfing, camping, parties, life – why Will is the Greatest Hero.

Being a Christian is 24/7. Everyday. Every hour. Every word. Every thought. Every action. Everything. Jesus matters more than being cool. Who are you trying to please? Jesus or some pimp daddies at school? Stand up for Jesus. Suffer for Jesus. Don’t be ashamed of Jesus. Tell your friends about Jesus. Join the Jesus Fight Club. Fight for Jesus.

Do you agree? Head to iagreewithdale.com and leave a comment.

Jokes are dead. The internet is responsible. Your job: to bring them back.

Has anyone else noticed the death of the Joke? Or am I just hanging around with the wrong crowd? I haven’t heard a solid shaggy dog story in months, maybe years; it seems to me the art of spinning a good joke is dead.

I blame the internet. (Blaming the net is all the rage these days)
Come back with me to a pub in an outback town, decades before ‘internet’ was even a word. What were jokes then? They were connections to other people, conversation starters, and entertainment.

But most importantly: they were jewels. Without online joke databases and email chain letters, jokes were passed through their telling. They were tested on new audiences; good ones remembered and retold complete with the teller’s signature exaggeration. A new joke might have crossed oceans, deserts, or mountain ranges, carried by the faithful word warriors in fishing boats, on horses, in pubs, camping, driving, or in trains.

Enter the internet. One of the first websites I ever visited was a joke site. On it you could read tens of thousands of jokes, rated, ranked, and categorized.

Now jokes could be mass-consumed m&m style, alone, one after the other, joke upon joke, without pause, until the reader had eaten enough. Jokes were cut off from the source of life supplied by a human speaker, whose timing, intonation, facial expressions, and all-important embellishment were the real origin of the humour. Removed from interesting environments, they also lost what made them meaningful: their ability to form connections between people.

And so, jokes stopped being funny. Still amusing, still entertaining, but now hardly able to bring more than a smile. And so also, jokes ceased to be remembered. Once we prized the ability to recall every detail of a dozen jokes, but now, who would need to, with such vast compilations at our fingertips?

But is it so far gone?

 In a world of ever expanding cities, of busy, faceless strangers, of stress and rush, people need to connect. We often share our busses, trainstations, Starbucks, bars, park benches and offices with the same people everyday, but remain trapped in our own world by our ipods and magazines. Jokes are perfect ice-breakers and ideal conversation-starters; comforting and entertaining. It’s time for the joke to make a comeback.

And the job falls to you. You will notice I have not linked to a single website in this article. Of course not. Jokes must be sought and collected, not searched and downloaded. This is what you must do: When you’re next on a bus, in a restaurant, at a sporting event, ask: “Do you know any good jokes?”. Or, better yet, tell one. But that’s only half the job. You’ve got to remember their joke, spread it, and, most importantly, improve it – add to it.

Corny as it sounds, how better to start a conversation and get people to open up than with a laugh? Try it, and, who knows, maybe the joke will be resurrected.

Now get out there! You’ve got a job to do!

1. I woke up, which is always nice. As far as I can work out, it means I’m alive.
2. I had the last of my trial exams – just my real exams to go now!
3. I took my new board out for a test run. Yesterday I wrote about how to get into surfing, and point 4 was “Do it often”. This afternoon I found out why. I haven’t been out for a while so I was very unfit and even more un-surf-fit (the surfing muscles… were gone!)
   Even though I was a bit rusty, the new stick is very, very nice! I haven’t tried out all the features yet (like standing up… kidding, sort of) but I like it heaps.

Tonight will be sweet too: youth group. Good food, good music, good fun, good people, and learning about Jesus – good times! If you live on the Coast, 7-9:30pm tonight @ the Erina High School hall (on The Entrance road) is where it’s at!

Thanks guys: I love it!!!

It’s my first real board, and I’m super-dooper excited to try it out. If you’re interested, it’s a 6 foot 1 custom Wizstix fish, something-or-other inches thick.

 But I reckon it needs a paintjob. I could pay to get one done, but I have some arty friends who would probably do a sweet job. I’ve got basically no idea what sort of design I want – hopefully they will have some ideas.

Watch this site for updates.

What do you think? Have you got any ideas for a design?

If you’re procrastinating an exam, done for the week, or just interested – I’d love to see your ideas! Leave a comment.

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In the meantime, here are 65 Reasons to LOVE Summer:  (in no particular order)

What do you love about summer? Have I missed anything? What are your Top 10? Do you hate summer? Leave a comment.

“I’ve wasted it! I’ve wasted it!”
I never, ever want to come to the end of my life and say that.

My post yesterday about how to (not) succeed at school was a wake-up call. Recently, and on this blog in particular, I’ve been wasting my life. I’m going to try spending less time on stuff that doesn’t matter.

3 ways to waste a life:

• Wasting it in the little things – frittering away time minute by minute. Watching just one more youtube video or pressing the snooze button one more time. I don’t think there is anything bad about these things, but there is the potential and temptation to let them soak up your life. (How to stop)
• Wasting it in the big things – A career, an organisation, a sporting team, a family, friends, and relationships. Have any of these amounted to anything? Did you suck the most juice out of every opportunity at school? When you are with friends, do you spend more time discussing lotto results than important stuff?
• Wasting Jesus – Of all three, this will be the one you disagree with.
  If Jesus was who he said he was, the other two ways are of no importance compared to the tragedy of ignoring him. It is worth it to check him out. (Contact me if you don’t know where to start)
  (Disagree? Leave a comment.)

I don’t claim to be perfect in any of these. I find the temptation to waste life in the little things the hardest to resist and the easiest to forget. Procrastinating is dumb – do the stupid assignment and then get out and enjoy life. (Preaching to myself on this one.)

What do you think? Do you ever catch yourself wasting your life? Disagree with me completely? Leave a comment.

It’s time to end it. Click here.