Several years ago, I was asked to co-present a workshop on mentorship at the Free Will Baptist Leadership Conference with ONE Magazine editor Eric Thomsen (who was my youth pastor growing up). The idea was to demonstrate the mentor-mentee cycle. Someone invested in him, he invested in me, and now I invest in others who will hopefully invest in yet others. We were asked to present the session again at the D6 Conference. This article adapts my portion of the presentation, where I make four recommendations regarding mentorship.
1. Be available.
When I think about mentorship, I think first about availability. Eric was available — his time, thoughts, and emotions. He was there, and he was real. I now know how busy he was (and is). But I never — not once — sensed he didn’t have time for me. I asked many, many questions: questions about Jesus and girls and genealogies (yes, genealogies), temptation and miracles and the end times and movies and music and all kinds of things. Eric did his best to answer all the questions.
Mentorship requires profound patience. But availability is patient; it is longsuffering. When we look to Jesus’ example, we see He was available to people, especially His disciples. He invested in them. He engaged their questions (including silly questions). So, would you be available, even to the youth who asks a thousand questions?
2. Take people seriously. One of the authors to whom Eric introduced me was C. S. Lewis. Through the decades, I have benefited tremendously from his writing. Lewis once criticized the way some authors patronize children:
The child as reader is neither to be patronized nor idolized: we talk to him as man to man….Once in a hotel dining-room I said, rather too loudly, ‘I loathe prunes.’ ‘So do I,’ came an unexpected six-year-old voice from another table. Sympathy was instantaneous. Neither of us thought it funny. We both knew that prunes are far too nasty to be funny. That is the proper meeting between man and child as independent personalities.
Now, I happen to like prunes. But Lewis is instructive; it can be tempting not to take young people too seriously. Eric succumbed to no such temptation. He neither ignored me nor disregarded me. He took me (with all my absurdity and silliness) seriously.
This characteristic can require great empathy on the mentor’s part because a genuine meeting of the minds can be difficult. Perhaps it is difficult because you know this thing “Johnny” is so concerned about is not really a big deal. Or perhaps it is difficult because you know a certain line of questioning could lead Johnny to a dangerous place.
Whatever the case, good mentors empathize with others because it is what Jesus did. He met people where they were. His responses ranged from sharp to compassionate, but they were always precisely what people needed. If we rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep (Romans 12:15), then we also struggle with the struggling and question with the questioning.
Empathy does not require affirming people in their wrong-headed ideas; it means taking them seriously. It is better that you, as a God-fearing Christian, seeking to conserve the truth of God’s Word, take Johnny seriously because, if you do not, someone else — who does not fear God — will.
3. Be honest. When taking youth seriously, we should also be honest with them. As followers of the One Who said, “I am the Truth” (John 14:6), we must tell the truth. Eric told the truth; he was honest. He showed wisdom and demonstrated propriety in how he told the truth, but he was honest. Honesty can be hard because it may mean you are rejected because of it. But true mentorship is willing to risk rejection for the sake of the mentee, for the sake of his or her maturity in the Truth.
I once shared a meal with someone I mentor, who feels deeply for people. He asked, “How can you be honest with people but not hurt their feelings?”
That is a great question but a tough one. I thought immediately of Jesus, who was somehow full of both grace and truth (John 1:14). We must be profoundly truthful, and we must be profoundly gracious and kind, because we are disciples of Jesus.
Forewarning: the execution of this principle can be challenging. For one thing, we are not Jesus; we will stumble where He succeeds. But when we stumble, our mistake becomes an opportunity to demonstrate humility toward whomever we have wronged. A second challenge stems from the reality that no two situations are the same. Hence, the precise application of truth and grace will depend on the particulars. In these circumstances, we must seek God’s face and ask for wisdom (Psalm 27:8; Proverbs 1:1-7).
Wisdom is crucial. It goes without saying that 14-year-old boys have serious questions about the grand mysteries of life: like sex. I did, and Eric showed tact and propriety in his answers. But he was honest, and he was real.
But honesty is not simply about what we say; it is also in how we present ourselves.
4. Be you. Finally, Eric was (and is) Eric. He did not try to be anyone else; he did not try to keep up with the changing fads. I did not need a “cool” mentor; I needed an adult mentor. I knew cool kids, and their examples hindered, not helped, my spiritual growth. Mentees need a model of maturity. Even if a mentee does not follow that example in the moment, he may in the future, and at least he or she gains a standard for later in life.
Being you is not just about being some generic adult; it is about being who God made you to be for the sake of others being who God made them to be. When I think of young people with whom I spend quality time and friendship, it occurs to me I did not seek them out per se. Our friendships developed organically around common interests. You being you and not someone else allows you to build relationships with people who share your interests. If you were someone else, you could not mentor those same people in the same way.
Eric was interested in hiking and traveling, art, music, and theology. His mentorships have formed with other people interested in those topics. I like running and politics and the arts and theology and writing and reading and the country. Hence, my mentor relationships have tended to form with people interested in those topics. The point is, be you, the person God made you to be.
In this way, mentorship does not become “something extra” on your plate; it is part of what you are doing anyway. Eric was going hiking anyway. So, what did he do? He invited me to go with him, and I did — and found myself in the middle of deep woods on a rainy weekend with a fierce tornado within a mile of our campsite (not kidding).
In my case, I run or talk about movies or eat or whatever. With one of my friends, I invite him to run with me. We discuss the issues of life: running, engagement, family, death, home buying, church leadership, graduate school, politics, etc. With another friend, we discuss the latest movies, their themes, scores, and so on. Mentorship takes place everywhere — on the greenway, at the dinner table, along the trail, in the car — and it concerns everything because it is fundamentally about life. But you must be you.
Sometimes, you may reveal qualities about yourself of which you were unaware. Sometimes, the Lord will send a person into your life, and you will think, “Him? What on earth do we have in common?”
Perhaps you have more in common than you realize; whatever the case, he or she sees something in you, so mentor whomever God gives you.
Mentorship is a cycle: a mentor mentors a mentee who becomes a mentor who mentors a mentee and so on. But I leave you with a warning: Jesus Himself did not bat a thousand (think Judas), and neither will we. Some will make you proud; others will break your heart. C.S. Lewis, who I mentioned earlier, had helpful insight into that point:
To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.
Love people. Invest in them. But know it is not for the weak of spirit; it requires real fortitude. Know it is hard work but also good work. I am a beneficiary of godly mentors. You are beneficiaries of godly mentors. Now, let us pay it forward.
About the Writer: Matthew Bracey, Ph.D., serves at Welch College as vice provost for academic administration and as a faculty member, teaching courses in history, law, and theology. He is a co-founder and senior editor of The Helwys Society Forum. This article is adapted from an essay appearing on Helwys Society Forum: HelwysSocietyForum.com.
[1] C. S. Lewis, “On Three Ways of Writing for Children.” On Stories and Other Essays on Literature (Orlando, FL: Harcourt, 1982), 42.
[2] C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves (1960; repr., Orlando, FL: Harcourt, 1988), 121.
