Prepare
This week’s study centers on Philippians 3:4b–14. Paul writes to a congregation he loves, likely from prison, and begins by listing his credentials: the right family, the right religious training, a spotless record. Then he does something surprising; he calls all of it loss, even “rubbish.” The Greek word, skubala, is cruder than most English Bibles let on. To be clear, Paul isn’t saying accomplishments are evil, but he is saying that accomplishments aren’t the central thing. What holds him up is that “Christ Jesus has made me his own” (Philippians 3:12).
Notice, for a moment, how honest Paul is about not having arrived: “Not that I have already obtained this… but I press on.” Paul is not certain about outcomes. He is convinced about who and whose he is. The difference between certainty and conviction is the heart of what we’re talking about today.
The other lectionary texts go there, too. Isaiah 5 contains some cool wordplay in Hebrew: God looked for mishpat (justice) and found mispach (bloodshed), and looked for tsedaqah (righteousness) and heard tse’aqah (a cry). And then in Matthew 21, tenants try to take over control of a vineyard that was never theirs. Both texts show what happens when people grasp for control instead of tending what God has entrusted to them.
This session also connects to the 2027 ELCA Youth Gathering theme, “Imagine More,” drawn from Ephesians 3:20. That verse follows Paul’s prayer that we be “rooted and grounded in love” (3:17).
A pastoral note: the article describes immigration enforcement in Minneapolis. For some young people in your group, this may be personal. Listen well, and let the focus stay on care for neighbors… you know, the Jesus-y stuff.
Opening Exercise: Finding Balance Together
Invite everyone to find a position of imbalance that works for their body. They could stand on one foot, sit tall at the edge of a chair with feet lifted slightly, or sit with eyes closed and arms stretched out. Hold it for about 20 seconds, then notice how steady or wobbly it felt.
Next, form pairs. Partners face each other and press their palms together, then gently lean into one another until each is helping hold the other up. This works standing, seated in chairs facing each other, or from a wheelchair. For groups of three or more, sit or stand in a circle with hands joined or on one another’s shoulders. Keep it gentle, since the point is support, not strength.
Ask: What was different about finding balance alone versus with someone else? Where in your life right now do you feel a little off-balance?
Texts Read Aloud
Philippians 3:4b–14 (primary)
Ephesians 3:14–21 (optional)
Isaiah 5:1–7 (optional)
Rooted, Not Certain
Quick: where will you be in five years?
If you’re in high school, you’ve probably been asked some version of that question more times than you can count. Your calendar is full of classes, practice, rehearsal, work, and group chats, and everyone seems to want a plan. But let’s be honest and name the elephant in the room: the future can feel pretty squishy. The news changes by the hour. Adults in charge often seem to react to whatever feels scariest right now instead of asking what kind of world they’re leaving for you.
Here’s a secret from a pastor: I don’t have it all figured out either. And I don’t think faith is supposed to make us certain… I think faith is what happens when certainty reaches the end of its knowing.
Listen to Paul: he had the perfect résumé, came from the “right” family, did religion “right”, had the “right” achievements, and a spotless record. And then, poor guy, he had an encounter with Jesus and called all of it rubbish. (The Greek word is even ruder, but if it were translated honestly, grandma would clutch her pearls at the foul language!) Those achievements aren’t bad, but they just can’t hold him up. “Not that I have already obtained this,” Paul writes, “but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own.”
Paul isn’t certain about the future. He’s rooted in something deeper: he belongs to Jesus. That’s the difference between certainty and conviction. Certainty says, “I know how this ends.” Conviction says, “I know whose I am, and who we are together. Let’s GO!“
I learned this in a new way last winter here in Minneapolis. Neighbors on my own block– people I love– were being targeted by ICE agents. It was frightening. Chaotic. And none of us knew what the next day would bring. But I need you to know this: I watched the church in action. Congregations made sure people had groceries and rides. Neighbors checked in on one another and made sure everyone felt known and valued. Networks of love and care grew almost overnight. It looked a lot like the early church in Acts, where believers shared what they had so that no one went without.
Nobody had a five-year plan or concrete plans. What we had was one another, and a God who shows up in the middle of the storm, every time.
Next summer, thousands of you will come to Minneapolis for the ELCA Youth Gathering. I serve on the team planning what happens on the main stage at U.S. Bank Stadium, and we can’t wait to welcome you! The theme is “Imagine More,” from Ephesians 3:20, which says that God’s power at work in us can do immeasurably more than we ask or imagine. Just before that verse, Paul prays that we’d be “rooted and grounded in love.”
Rooted, not certain. That’s how imagining more works. When we stop needing to control every outcome, we make room to dream of a church more ready to welcome all of who we are, across all our beautiful difference. We also make room to dream of a world more just and beautiful than the one we’ve been handed. I’m so grateful that we’re all alive at this moment to materialize that vision together.
You don’t have to have it all figured out. You’re already held. So press on, together. Let’s go, buds.
Reflection Questions
- What does Paul say he gave up, and what does he say he’s “pressing on” toward?
- The article says certainty sounds like “I know how this ends,” while conviction sounds like “I know who and whose I am.” What’s the difference? Why might conviction help more than certainty when life feels squishy?
- In the Minneapolis story, what did the church look like when no one knew what would happen next? Where have you seen people show up for one another like that?
- If you didn’t have to be certain about your future, what might you imagine for yourself, your youth group, or your community?
Closing Activity
One Word, Together. Return to the circle or pairs from the opening exercise, with joined hands or palms together if people are comfortable. Invite each person to share one word for something they hope God will help them imagine more of.
Closing Prayer
God of immeasurably more,
when the future feels wobbly, and the world feels loud,
root us in your love.
Remind us that we belong to you and to one another.
Give us courage to let go of what can’t hold us up,
and to press on toward the life you are already creating.
Open our imaginations to dream of a neighborhood, church, and world
with more welcome, more justice, and more joy.
We pray in the name of Jesus, who has made us his own. Amen.
Bio
Pastor Ian McConnell is the Lead Pastor of Fabric, an innovative and experimental church in Minneapolis, and a career-long youth minister who serves on the ELCA Youth Gathering Mass Gathering Team. He’s a husband, a dad to two awesome kiddos, and a friend and neighbor. He’s a huge Timberwolves and Lynx fan and has recently gotten into the trading card game Star Wars: Unlimited to nerd out with friends.
