Cougars

Some time ago and for reasons that aren't entirely clear to me, the members of my youth group adopted an unofficial mascot: the cougar. Now I wish I could tell you that I was referring to the animal, but sadly, this is a cougar more of the Courtney Cox variety. It's inappropriate, but true. Some members of the (senior high) youth group have faked an obsessed with older women who date younger men for their own amusement.

When the interest in cougars (and I can't do any justice in writing to the way they say the word cougarzzz) started I did my best to stifle their humor about the whole thing. I ignored them, or hushed at them to be quiet. But I failed miserably and, like forcing a beach ball underwater, every time I tried to suppress them more the louder they would become in their talk about cougars. It was hopeless.

Sometime around the fall I became aware of the fact that while I was not the reason the whole thing had started, I fit nicely into the scheme of things because I, in fact, am married to someone three years younger than me. And so consequently, I am a cougar (sort of). The darlings in the youth group have begun to refer to my small section of gray hair near my temple (there in large part because of them) as my cougar stripe. And I'll admit it - it's hysterical. I want to encourage appropriate youth group behavior and conversation, but the cougars thing is funny. Really funny.

So a few months ago I asked them to think about designing some kind of youth group logo so that we could have t-shirts made, not realizing the can of worms that I was opening. In no time there was an Emmanuel Youth Group Cougar Hunter shirt posted on Facebook.

Now I do draw the line somewhere. I told them that under no circumstances could they put Emmanuel's name on that shirt, and they are good kids - really they are - so they laughed and promised they wouldn't. But the Cougar Hunter remained, and the shirt is scheduled to be ordered sometime this week. I should note the kids are ordering and paying for the shirts themselves - outside of it's place of origin this shirt has nothing to do with our youth group.

That said, when the ringleader texted me to ask if I wanted a shirt for $14.00, I said yes without hesitation. Duh. That was two days ago.

It wasn't until this morning, when I was sitting quietly in church, that I realized I had violated the Stuff Stand-off. Not wanting to short the kid his money, I figured I would buy it and leave it in my office until 2011 when it could be worn and brought home. But then I talked to him in between services and he said that they won't order them until they have the money. Which means, of course, that I can cancel my order and hold true to our agreement. Following this realization I experienced a huge let-down. I admit, I wasn't too sad that I had violated the Stand-off completely by accident and could still be in possession of my cougar t-shirt. Sitting there in church, I found myself still trying to wiggle around the rules to see if I could buy the shirt. It certainly wouldn't be around next year for me to purchase, so surely this special circumstance could count for something. But I simply couldn't think of a way out of it. That t-shirt definitely counts as "stuff".

Then I started thinking some about why I wanted the t-shirt so badly in the first place. And the truth is, I want it because I love those kids in my youth group. I love that they have found community here that is important to them, and intimate enough that they can have inside jokes and unofficial mascots. I love that they are just plain funny, and that they choose to include me in their humor and keep me laughing in the process. I love that they are comfortable enough with me that they can point out my gray hairs and call it my cougar stripe. I love that they went out of their way to design a t-shirt, just for fun. And I want that shirt because every time I look at it, even years from now when we've all gone in different directions, I'll remember this youth group and how great they were and how much I loved them.

But really... am I ever going to wear a t-shirt that says Cougar Hunter??

There's something about our culture where we so desperately want to capture those experiences we have that are good or meaningful. We stand at the Grand Canyon with a camera glued to our faces instead of breathing in the air and deafening silence. We travel to other countries and feel that our trips are incomplete if we don't have some kind of souvenir to take home with us. We hold onto clothing for years after we've stopped wearing it because of the memory it evokes when we pull it down off that top shelf in the closet. We humans want the impossible: tangible evidence of our emotions and experience, and the promise that our memories will never fade.

Our gospel passage this morning was the wedding at Cana, and I found myself wondering what would have happened if the disciples and servants at the wedding had scurried around to take a vile of the wine home with them so they would have evidence of Jesus' miracle that day. If that is all they had done, would we ever have been privy to that miracle? Instead, they drank the wine and enjoyed each others company, and the amazing experience they had that day. Then they told the story - for years and years until somebody wrote it down. And that's why we get to share in that story today. Because it was written down.

So I will not order a Cougar Hunter t-shirt, as much as I want something to hold in my hands that reminds me of my incredible youth group. Instead, I'll just write this all down, so that someday I can reread my own words and close my eyes and remember this all with a smile. And between now and then I can share the story with you (whoever you are) so that you know how great they are too.

COUGARZZZZZZZ...