On the passing of our founder and friend, Mike Yaconelli

The Tragic Loss of Mike Yaconelli

El Cajon, CA, October 30, 2003 – Mike Yaconelli, owner and co-founder of Youth Specialties, was involved in a fatal car accident late Wednesday night, October 29, outside his hometown of Yreka, in northern California. He passed away early Thursday morning, October 30. In addition to founding Youth Specialties, an organization dedicated to equipping and training youth workers through events and resources, Mike was the founder and general editor of The Door (formerly The Wittenberg Door) and the author of numerous books, including Dangerous Wonder and Messy Spirituality. Mike was also a contributing columnist to Youthworker journal.

"Mike was the incarnation of his book titles, Dangerous Wonder and Messy Spirituality. He lived a life of wonder and amazement at God's grace. He never claimed to be perfect; he just lived as he was – a man after God's own heart," said Tic Long, president of events at Youth Specialties.

Mike's life and work have inspired thousands of people, most notably youth workers, through his writing and speaking. Mike exuded a passion for following Christ and living out that faith in everyday life. Perhaps Mike's greatest contribution was his ability to encourage and inspire youth workers for almost 30 years at the National Youth Workers Convention.

Mark Oestreicher, president of Youth Specialties, recently introduced Mike at the National Youth Workers Convention this way: "I guess I could say he is a wonderfully complex group of seeming contradictions. Many of you know that Mike is extremely playful; and while many playful people are only that, Mike is a deep well – a contemplative man with a mushy pastor's heart. Mike is one of those rare people who truly lives in the upside-down kingdom of God; he values mercy, change and truth (even when it's uncomfortable)…He's a reluctant prophet, and reminds me of Jeremiah, but more fun. In my imagination, they even look alike."

As more information becomes available, it will be posted at www.youthspecialties.com.

THE DANGEROUS WONDER OF MIKE YACONELLI

As the news of Mike Yaconelli's passing began filtering through evangelical circles on the morning of October30, 2003, my first thought was of a Youth Specialties Convention in Dallas in the early 1990s. In the midst of a giant banqueting hall filled with more than a thousand people, Mike suddenly hung a spoon from his nose, stood in his chair and wordlessly began rotating in the chair, his hands waving above his head, his fingers snapping to a soundless beat – like Tevye from Fiddler on the Roof. Immediately, Tony Campolo joined him in the silent dance. Then, across the hall, dozens of people hopped up and joined them. As quickly as it began, it was over and Mike resumed eating as if nothing had happened.
Mike Yaconelli, the Holy Fool, had struck again.
Mike was the founder of both Youth Specialties, Inc. (now the world's largest purveyor of youth ministry resources) in the late 1960s and The Wittenburg Door (now and always the world's pretty much only religious humor and satire magazine) in the early 1970s. Youth Specialties has crafted a wonderful tribute to Mike on its website, www.youthspecialties.com.
Whatever we are today is built on the foundation that Mike crafted in the heady days of the Jesus Movement, when – for just a flickering moment in time – Jesus was on everybody's lips and the name was neither attached to a curse nor a plea for more money.
Both Youth Specialties and the magazine – renamed The Door in 1988 – survived and continue today. Mike, saying his "season of satire" had passed, and feeling the pressure from his expanding speaking and writer career, willed The Door to the Trinity Foundation in early 1995.
Mike was something of an introvert. Being around lots of people for any length of time left him drained and pale, like he was giving away a little part of himself to everyone he met.
That willingness to share of his heart, that willingness to expose his most vulnerable moments made him one of the most gifted speakers, writers and visionaries of our generation.
Perhaps you've read one of his books, Dangerous Wonder or Messy Spirituality.
Perhaps you read his now legendary Back Doors in The Door. Everybody has a favorite. Mine is from a column he wrote more than 10 years ago. It contains his reflections on turning 50. It seems particularly appropriate now:

So here I stand, looking at the ground, smelling the faint fragrance of God. Never once did it occur to me that when I found God's trail again, it would ruin my life forever – for once you feel the breath of God on your skin, you can never turn back, you can never settle for what was, you can only move on recklessly, with abandon, your heart filled with fear, your ears ringing with the constant whisper, "Fear not."
Once you find where the trail is, you are faced with a sobering truth – in order to go on, you must let go of what brought you here. You cannot go on without turning your back on what brought you to this place.
It is like swinging on a trapeze. Once you have gained the courage to swing, you never want to let go...and then, without warning (around age 50, for me), you look up and see another trapeze swinging towards you, perfectly timed to meet you, and you realize you are being asked to let go and grab onto the other trapeze. You have to release your grip. You have to reach out. You have to experience the glorious terror of inbetween-ness as you disconnect from one and reach for the other.
This past year has been a time of letting go, one finger at a time, and these last few weeks have been a terrifying weightlessness, a wait-lessness, a paralyzing stretch for the unknown. I haven't reached the other bar yet. I am somewhere in between, but I can tell you this: my heart is filled with an exhilaration, an anxious anticipation that just as I get to the other bar, I will not grasp it, but I will instead be grasped by the hand of Jesus.
I can hardly wait.

Mike Yaconelli was the most dangerous man I've ever known. He honestly sought to live according to the Gospel. It meant he didn't care who he ticked off. It meant he didn't care what you said about him. It meant he didn't mind looking like a doofus. It meant he would tell you what needed to be said to your face. Brrrrrrr … now that's dangerous.
Like the old saw goes, What would you do if you knew you couldn't fail?
For me, I'd be more like Mike Yaconelli.
But I'd fail. Most of us would.
Because most of us don't believe the Gospel enough to live it.
Mike gave me a job when I didn't have a dime. He showed faith in me when I was at my lowest ebb, emotionally, creatively, financially, maybe even spiritually.
Hanging – even long distance – with Mike and the amazing Karla made me a better person. They loved me with a Christ-like love that helped heal me.
I worked closely with the Yaconellis from January 1, 1988, until they gave The Door to Trinity. Just seven years. But they made a lifetime's worth of difference on me.
I've often said Mike is the funniest human being I've ever known – at least he was the person who was funniest because he was intentionally trying to be funny. I secretly envied his gift.
But now that he is gone, why he was so funny came to me in a flash as I driving home from school. He was funny because he wasn't afraid of failure. Comedy is all about being fearless. If you censor yourself because you're afraid of what others may say or how others may respond, you'll never be funny.
True comedy is experimental, emotional, dangerously close to the edge. Mike took risks.
He was also the most fun to tease of anybody I've ever known. That's because no one laughed harder when you skewered him.
These are dangerous traits.
This is how I picture Jesus. Unapologetically, unabashedly, nakedly emotional. Willing to bare everything at any time for anybody, regardless of race, creed, gender, political party or sexual preference.
Jesus must have been a riot.
The world is significantly less raw and revealing now.
The world is significantly less funny now.
But heaven must be rockin' tonight.

Robert Darden
The Senior Editor
The Door Magazine

Listen to a Mike Yaconelli Interview, given just a few weeks before his death.

Remembering Mike Yaconelli
Reproduced with permission from Greenbelt.org.uk

Read about the UK memorial service and add your own thoughts to our Book of Remembrance for one of Greenbelt's finest.

One of Greenbelt's finest friends and most popular contributors, Mike Yaconelli, was involved in a fatal car accident late Wednesday night, October 29, outside his hometown of Yreka, in northern California. He died early Thursday morning, October 30.

Mike first came to Greenbelt in the mid-eighties and kept coming back – he has probably spoken to more people at the festival than anyone. We have never had a more animated and entertaining speaker. Even this last August he was still packing venues out, still inspiring people to know that they could make a difference.

Like Karla, his wife, he loved the Festival and was a real kindred spirit, part of our gang. He would do almost anything for us, particularly when we had hard times. Many of us became firm friends and we will miss him hugely.

The Memorial Service for Mike Yaconelli's UK friends, took place at St Luke's Church in Holloway on 23 November. Hosted by Rev Dave Tomlinson, those taking part included former Greenbelt chair Sue Plater, Martyn Joseph – with a tribute delivered by Simon Mayo and, on guitar, Garth Hewitt.

John Davies, former Greenbelt Trustee (who now looks after SoulSpace at the festival), had this to say, while Pip Wilson also reflected on a moving service.

To read more about how Mike died so tragically, read our initial report here.

To leave a tribute to Mike, send your own memories, reflections and memories here to be added to the Greenbelt book of remembrance. And to read more on how he touched so many peoples lives go to our Book of Remembrance

Meanwhile, Greenbelt Trustee Martin Wroe wrote this obituary of Mike Yaconelli for The Church Times, which we republish with their permission

Mike Yaconelli used to say that 'You shall know the truth and the truth shall make you odd.' Yaconelli knew the truth and his generous take on Christian spirituality made anyone who felt odd, feel right at home.

A popular speaker and writer for thousands of American youth workers, his influence in the UK was largely through the Greenbelt Arts Festival, to which he has returned regularly since the mid-1980’s. We invited him after coming across his satirical magazine, The Wittenberg Door, a kind of evangelical Private Eye, tearing into hypocrisy, pomposity and assorted church scams. Below the satire, was a Chestertonian innocence and a warm-hearted evangelical theology. Yaconelli interviewed big hitters from across the ecclesiastical spectrum and - playfully editing the encounters afterwards – made them twice as funny for the reader. Steve Martin and Woody Allen both made ‘Theologian of the Year’ as did Tammy Faye Bakker, wife of the disgraced televangelist. The Door was a breath of fresh air, and not just in the claustrophic environs of the American church.

I had managed to blag his home number on the US West Coast from somewhere, and, getting my time zones wrong, rang him in the middle of the night. Gradually coming to, he said, 'Yeah, sounds like a great festival, love to come, who are you again ?'

After that, he was always waking Greenbelt up. The Festival has long had a semi-detached relationship with the institutional church and we found a kindred spirit in Mike – a real-life minister (looking after a small ‘church for people who don’t go to church’) but deeply sceptical about what the church often turned into. Honesty and humour were at the heart of his appeal. His was ‘the slowest growing church in America. We started twelve years ago with ninety members and have ungrown to thirty.’ He could have been an Anglican.

If he embraced oddness, this may be because he had long felt a little odd in the Church himself. Born to Italian Americans in 1942, the family were ‘ethnic Catholics’, until evangelical revival surprised them. ‘One day my parents came home saying they were born again and they started this home church thing in our living room. Here were 18-25 people coming over every Friday night to read the Bible, sing and yell theological arguments in my living room. It was the best show in town. I started cancelling my Friday night plans so I could sit in the other room and listen.’

His parents encouraged him to enrol at the conservative Bob Jones University – he was thrown out within weeks, for which he was always grateful. After training as a youth worker, he co-wrote ‘Idea Book’ - off the wall activities for young people - but no one would publish it. With partner Wayne Rice, he founded Youth Specialties in 1969, to do it themselves. Today the organisation resources tens of thousands of youth workers, publishes scores of books and hosts the National Youth Workers Convention.

Along the way, Yaconelli developed a wonderfully animated and compelling speaking style, happy to come clean about his own failings, with a gift for making the way of faith seem possible for amateurs – the people most of us know ourselves to be most of the time. After becoming friends with Henri Nouwen, his evangelical roots became tangled with those of the mystics and the reverse side of his on-stage pyrotechnics was an off-stage contemplative spirituality. A glance at titles he poke on at Greenbelt captures his appeal: ‘Un-Spiritual Gifts: The Power of Being Weird’; ‘Messy Spirituality: Christianity For The Rest Of Us’ and ‘What Would Jesus Do? (We Don’t Have a Clue)’

The instutional church, he felt, had forgotten its calling and become a ‘corporation’. It needed to get over itself, stop taking itself so seriously, and focus on loving Jesus. A cultural rather than political radical, he saw individuals not governments changing history and regularly took groups to Mexico to build houses. latterly heading a campaign to persuade young people to fight the African AIDS pandemic.

Yaconelli’s motto was ‘messy spirituality’, which he called the refusal to pretend, to lie, or to allow others to believe we are something we are not.’ Over the years thousands of Greenbelters recognised someone who was more than a mischief making mystic, but rather a kind of prophet of the possible, opening up a generous and liberating view of Christianity for anyone and everyone. ‘Oddness is important,’ he said, ‘Because it adds, texture, variety, and beauty to the human condition. Christ doesn’t make us the same. What He does is affirm our differentness.’

Tuesday 9th December 2003