AST OCTOBER I HAD THE PRIVILEGE OF ATTENDING THE 180 SYMPOSIUM ON behalf of the Adventist Review. Hosted by the Center for Youth Evangelism at Andrews University, the 180 Symposium is a think tank of sorts that unites youth and young adult ministry leaders from around the globe for the purpose of dissecting a topic pertaining to—you guessed it—young adult ministry.
In 2009 the symposium centered on reaching Adventist students who attend schools—whether elementary, high school, or college—on campuses that are unaffiliated with the Adventist Church.
On October 19, at 9:00 a.m. sharp, I arrived at the university’s Whirlpool Room: pencil sharpened and camera battery charged—a regular Jimmy Olsen. The room contained 10 or so espresso-colored wooden tables around which were arranged four chairs each. I took a seat in the corner and prepared for class, uh, symposium (it felt more like class, considering that a former professor of mine at Union College, Chris Blake, moderated the event).
The day began with opening remarks before the group of 40-or-so condensed into four break-out teams, each squad focused on creating an action plan for their assigned topics. A few of the groups focused on tangible ways to better reach students; others concentrated on increasing networking opportunities and fund-raising. By lunch, each group was to have a written plan—complete with practical methods of implementation.
For the first few hours I mostly listened, periodically jotting notable thoughts and comments; after all, I was there primarily to gather information and report on what was taking place. But as the symposium rolled on I found myself more involved and invested than I had originally planned to be. And with good reason; after all, I’m only 23. This group had convened for the sake of Adventist young adults—for my friends, for me.
Never Alone
The utter exhaustion he felt at this moment was unlike anything Elijah had experienced before. Quite a statement considering he’d slept in the wilderness and survived off of food delivered by ravens, all while fearing for his life at every turn.
But this was not mere physical fatigue; this was the kind of tiredness one feels when one is absolutely alone. The solitude of the cave Elijah had escaped to was symbolic of his entire world—isolated, cold, alone.
“God,” he cried, “the entire nation of Israel has turned its back on You! They’ve murdered Your prophets and abandoned You for idols made of wood and stone. Yet through all that I’ve remained devoted to You. Now they’re trying to kill me! I’m the only faithful one left” (see 1 Kings 19:10).
Of course, Elijah wasn’t alone. God reminded him as much, after wind, earthquake, and fire, in the calmness of a “still small voice.”
Right now, many Adventist young adults feel like Elijah did. On secular university campuses with tens of thousands of students—where binge drinking and sexual promiscuity are cultural norms—they feel isolated, alone. I know because I’ve met them. I’ve heard their stories and seen the pleading in their eyes. And though I’m no longer in an academic setting, I’ve experienced the aloneness myself.
If you’re not a young adult, share this with one in your life. Friends, if you know personally the solitude and hopelessness I’m talking about, take solace in this: From October 19 to 22, Adventist leaders from throughout the world took time off from family and community responsibilities. They traveled by plane, train, and automobile to Andrews University for the 180 Symposium. They came to figure out how the church can better support you financially, academically, and spiritually.
As you read this, a proposal is being finalized that will further empower our church to be proactive about campus ministry. In the future I’ll share the specifics. But right now, remember this: You are not alone.
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A proud Nebraskan, Jimmy Phillips writes from Bakersfield, California, where he is marketing and communications coordinator for San Joaquin Community Hospital. This article was published January 28, 2010.
