“The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob” is a common refrain in Scripture and prayer. It is a phrase that calls to mind great models of faith. Men who were intimate with God; men who were comfortable enough with God to challenge Him; men who were willing to follow God wherever He led; men who stand as the forefathers of the nation of Israel, the first community of faith. I believe, with my whole being, in the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Except, in truth, I don’t. I don’t believe in the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob because I don’t know Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. I never sat on Abraham’s knee as a child while he told me about God; I never pulled on Isaac’s hand, trusting he would answers the questions I had about God; I never walked with Jacob discussing my relationship with God and how I could improve it. It would be far more accurate to say that I believe in the God of Kevin & Kathy; the God of Mrs. Geer & Mrs. Thomas; the God of Erica, Kate, and Sarah.
 
Kevin and  Kathy, aka my parents, introduced me to God. They took me to church every Sunday, starting at so early an age that I do not have any memory of a Sunday without it. Instead, I have a memory of a beautiful, crocheted, purple toddler sweater that was special because I wore it to church to see God. They taught me to pray before meals and bed, making sure that I knew that prayer was how I enacted their more general lessons about “Please,” “Thank you,” and “I’m sorry” with God. They made sure God was a presence in our household, not just in our parish.  
 
Mrs. Geer and  Mrs. Thomas, aka my 4th & 5th grade and 6th grade catechists growing up, allowed me to wrestle with what I understood of God. They didn’t laugh or brush off my concerns. They gave honest and earnest answers when I presented worries. They took me seriously, even when I asked questions such as, “What if we’re wrong? What if the Egyptians were right? I’m just saying, I’m not going to have any of that stuff that you need for the Egyptian afterlife when I die.”
 
Erica, Kate, and Sarah, aka the ladies in my college Scripture Study, worked with me as I learned to intentionally serve God. They established that it was a choice, that it was work, and that it, more often than not, would involve going against the grain of society. They were trying to serve God too, and shared their struggles and triumphs, even as they called me on and celebrated mine.
 
All of them—and far too many more to name or count—helped me to know God, to trust God, to love God. They made sure I was familiar with a God that was just and generous, and merciful and caring. They helped me to be in relationship with the God with whom they were in relationship. To be sure, the God they talked about was the very same God that Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob bowed to, but I never would have been able to gain from those men what I gained from them.
 
Which brings me to two questions… 

First, whose God do you believe in? Who are the people who first taught you about God and who are the people who helped your faith in Him mature?

Second, who believes in your God? Who knows, loves, and serves God because of you?

I find the second question is usually much harder to answer than the first. In our faith, we can be quick to give praise to the previous generation, but slower to take responsibility for the next. As a result, many of our young people don’t follow God because they don’t know (truly know) God, nor are they known by someone who does.
 
I’d like that to change. I’d like to give our young people examples of faith like Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. But more importantly, I’d like to give them influences in their lives like Kevin and Kathy, Mrs. Geer and  Mrs. Thomas, and Erica, Kate, and Sarah. Would you like to be one of those people? Would you like to help our young people know (and know that they are known by) God? Are you willing and able to invest yourself and your time in helping them to do so? Jesus commanded His followers, aka us, to, “Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations…” And there is an entire nation, right here, who could become disciples, if you said, “Yes.” I pray that you will.  
 
In the upcoming months we will be looking for adults who would be willing to show and share with our young people what it means to be a disciple. If you are interested in learning more, please let me know.
 
I eagerly await your “yes”…