Maintaining your own spiritual journey can be difficult. Surrounded by church culture, other Christians, and the task of constantly shepherding the spiritual journeys of young lives, we can become numb to our own spiritual progress.

Life-stage confusion can develop, whether to a young or a mature youth minister, and begin to decay our spiritual journeys and the journeys of those whom we serve. This confusion occurs when we mistake where our students are on their spiritual journeys for where we are on ours. To help prevent this, youth workers must be careful not to project their own spiritual level of development onto the students they serve or misevaluate their group's level of spiritual maturity.

Challenges of the Younger Youth Pastor

While both younger and older youth pastors run this risk, younger youth pastors have a unique challenge. Since they're often not that far from the ages of the students they serve, they can be incorrectly convinced that they remember what it's like to be a teenager. The high idealism of youth accompanied with new ideas gained from college or seminary can blind younger youth workers to the unique challenges facing their specific group. With this life-stage confusion, adults can become frustrated or disappointed by the unwillingness of others to participate in their ideal model.

While at Biola University focusing on intercultural studies, I spent six weeks in India and was responsible for training and debriefing those going abroad on short-term trips. The youth group at my home church was taking a trip to Haiti, and I imagined how helpful it would be if they had some training before they went. I'd been on this same trip in high school and remembered how clueless we were about our surroundings and how inappropriately we had interacted with the locals. I was convinced that our church needed pre-trip training. With the approval of my youth pastor, I put together a weekend training experience to cover everything I thought would make the experience more impacting. It turns out, I was the only one excited. It became apparent that they didn't have a clue why this was important to them and that I hadn't thought about my audience or where they were in their life journeys.

I also remember attending a few youth group meetings when I was young during which college Bible students would come and totally bore us to tears by regurgitating highlights from their favorite classes. They'd been inspired by these teachings for sure, but had not yet mastered how to share them effectively or how to identify what material suits a given group of students.

Challenges of the Older Youth Pastor

While enthusiasm and idealism can create life-stage confusion for younger youth workers, boredom and pessimism can cause it in those who've been around for a while.

Youth ministers are getting older. This is a good thing. Rather than use youth ministry as the holding tank until a “real” ministry position opens up, many are choosing to make ministering to young people their careers. We need the wisdom and maturity of those who've been around for awhile to inform those younger to progress this important area of ministry.

But after hundreds of talks, conferences, and camps, we can get a little tired of the same old thing. And this is where danger can set in. While our age and experience leads us into deeper waters of the faith, stage confusion causes us to bring this into our ministries to students who aren't ready for such challenges. Instead of going on mission trips for ourselves, we make a youth group trip out of it. Instead of doing our own deep Bible study and intense reflection, we double up and use our youth group time to explore our own interests.

I've seen this often in the area of worship. Thinking that kids should be able to follow by example, worship leaders (excuse me “lead worshippers”) enjoy a type of spiritual self-gratification—singing and praising—leaving the believers in the crowd to act as “worship voyeurs.” I actually had a worship leader turn down a ministry opportunity with a group of junior high and high school students because he only leads “level 3” worship and he thought that group couldn't handle it. When MercyMe was traveling with our ministry in their early days, some youth ministers didn't take them seriously as worship leaders because they worked with younger believers. Those ministers failed to realize that MercyMe was making corporate worship accessible to younger teens who needed increased leadership and direction to join in the awe and wonder of singing praises to God.

I've experienced mission trips where youth groups did more damage than good because they weren't at an appropriate stage to engage in such an opportunity. Regardless of what their youth leaders said, they weren't prepared for the challenge.

With so many youth group graduates never returning to church (58% of frequent youth group attenders won't attend church by age 30, according to Barna research), we have to ask ourselves: Are we adequately preparing students for a lifetime of devotion and service to God? Or are we burning kids out in service before they receive the foundation that will last?Proverbs 19:2 reads, “Desire without knowledge is not good, and one who moves too hurriedly misses the way.” If we try to accelerate the spiritual growth of teens during their years in our youth ministry, have we succeeded if they miss the way for the remainder of their lives?

Identifying the Warning Signs

Avoiding this life-stage confusion can be difficult, but we must learn to consciously be on the lookout for it in our ministries. Here are some questions to help identify the warning signs:

1. Am I making time for my own spiritual growth separate from my ministry preparation?

Dan Webster often uses the illustration of a sailboat to give insight to our interior and exterior selves. The exterior life we live is the sailboat we see above water, the keel represents the interior life that is below the surface—providing stability to the watercraft. I've seen incredible people of God fall hard in the midst of successful ministries, because they were caring for the vessel above the water line, but never addressing the needs below. Take time for your own spiritual growth.

2. Am I touching on themes important to the age and stages of my group?

I know youth pastors who refuse to address issues like respect and dating with their junior high groups simply because they're tired of teaching the topic and feel there are more significant issues. While we should always be seeking more holistic ways of teaching these basic themes, we cannot ignore them because we're no longer interested. Ministry to teenagers often feels like the movie Ground Hog Day—caught in an endless cycle of the same experiences over and over again. Regardless of our spiritual growth, teenagers will always be at the same stage of life as they enter our ministry.

3. Am I listening to students, parents, and church leadership?

Often those around us will send gentle signals (or not so gentle) letting us know when we're missing the target. We need to be wise enough to consider these other voices even when they oppose our ideals and dreams. Proverbs 15 22 reminds us, “Without counsel, plans go wrong, but with many advisers they succeed.” So we're wise to consider other voices.

4. Will our current programs help sustain the spiritual growth of members of the group when their journeys lead them out of my care?

We must consider the future that awaits the students in our groups. Are the teaching, training, and experiences provided only giving immediate satisfaction, or will our strategies lay the foundation for their tomorrows? What basic doctrines should they understand, and what issues will they face in the years leading them into adulthood?

5. Are my challenges realistic?

I can't tell you how many times I've heard a group challenged to go out and take their campus by storm. Everyone is revved up, then Monday comes and nothing happens. Was the challenge not a good one? Did people not believe it? The challenge may have been lost in this life-stage confusion—assigning a task that the group isn't ready for or capable of achieving. I believe we have a generation of church-attending students who are conditioned to inaction. They cheer and weep—yet the know deep inside that nothing will happen, and no one will really be all that concerned that nothing happened. We need to be very specific in our challenges, but also equip hearers to fulfill the challenges. The challenges also need to be measurable. (Just what does “take your campus for Christ” mean anyway?)

Ministering to young people can be awesome. Not only are they spiritually active now, but great opportunities await them further down the road as they enter adulthood. But let's go beyond just “firing them up.” Let's help them go the distance.

It was clear the couple was in distress. For weeks they'd left urgent messages asking for an appointment. “We have a situation that has arisen in our youth ministry and we need to talk to someone.” They took a day off from work, drove five hours to the seminary, and after thanking me profusely for the meeting, sat holding hands as they told me their story. They were happily married. They'd raised four kids. They'd spent over 25 years doing youth ministry in the Presbyterian Church. They were tired of the same “fun and games” programs. They went on a spiritual formation retreat at a youth ministry conference and had been inspired to develop a new method of youth ministry.

“We decided to create more of a spirituality kind of youth ministry. We designed a prayer room and started a contemplative worship service for youth with candles and chants from the monastery in Taizé, France.” They continued to attend spiritual retreats and learned various prayer styles and spiritual exercises. “We just felt so nurtured that we started sharing these new spiritual practices with our youth. The youth loved the new ministry approach and so did we.”

Then came time for the church's annual youth-led worship service. “The kids were excited to share all this cool stuff we were doing in youth group. So when we led the Sunday service we had candles everywhere and this beautiful icon of Jesus displayed on the communion table. We led the congregation in Christian chants, and instead of a spoken sermon, one of our students led a silent meditation and then invited the congregation to walk a labyrinth we purchased from a youth ministry catalog. People loved it.”

They paused and looked at one another. Here was the problem: “After the service the senior pastor asked us into his office. He wasn't mad or anything but he just looked at us and said that what we had led wasn't a Presbyterian worship service. He told us he wasn't sure it was even Protestant. He then explained that Protestants don't use images of God and that it's really not considered worship in the Protestant tradition if there isn't preaching. He then asked if we knew a biblical justification for the labyrinth. We really couldn't respond.”

They paused and stared at me for a moment. Then the wife spoke up, “Can you please tell us what we're doing?

The Rise of Spirituality

Ten years ago I began work at San Francisco Theological Seminary exploring the integration of youth ministry and Christian spirituality. At that time “spirituality” was a common word within the culture but was still mostly absent from the field of youth ministry. If you look at youth ministry catalogs from the early '90s you won't find books on prayer or spiritual practices or products promising to nurture kids' souls. Nor would you find youth events promising to help kids “experience” Jesus. Ten years ago you would've been hard pressed to find a labyrinth or even a candle in a youth room.

In 1996, when I began leading spiritual retreats for youth leaders, I spent most teaching sessions answering questions regarding whether or not “spirituality” was satanic. I even had a Christian radio broadcaster call me for an interview concerning whether or not there was even such a thing as “Christian spirituality.” She was certain that spirituality was something invented by the New Age movement. In 1997, when I offered to lead a workshop entitled “Contemplative Youth Ministry” at a national youth ministry gathering, I was told the title needed to be changed because either people wouldn't understand it or would think it was Buddhist. Taizé music, lectio divina, and spiritual direction were all viewed with suspicion and regarded as a return to ancient pagan practices.

We've come a long way, baby. Now youth ministry conferences and catalogs offer labyrinths kits, scented prayer candles, and journals with orthodox icons on the cover and quotes from classics (usually dead people) like Hildegard of Bingen. Now the heading above the youth ministry section in my recent copy of the Zondervan publishing catalog announces, “Help Youth Contemplate!” (Of course only evangelicals would put an exclamation mark after “contemplate”). Now you can't spend more than ten minutes at a youth ministry conference without someone saying, “Well, my spiritual director told me….”

Despite the rise and popularity of spirituality within youth ministry the question brought to me by the concerned youth ministry couple still persists, “What are we doing?”

What Is Spirituality?

In The Upper Room Dictionary of Christian Spiritual Formation, pastor and author Keith Beasley-Topliffe writes, “Every generation must discover for itself that experience of God and a living relationship with God are more important in our lives than knowledge about God.” The current spirituality movement is engaged in this exploration of what it means to live the Good News in communion with Jesus. Many of us grew up within a Christian culture that preached a “personal relationship with Jesus,” yet focused on beliefs (doctrinal correctness and defending one's faith), morality (sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll) and emotionality (praise music and charismatic speakers) with little or no space given for actually experiencing the reality of our relationship with Christ.

The revived interest in spirituality is motivated by a desire to experience God (with all of the consolation, desolation, and ambiguity) as a necessary aspect of Christian living. It's a recovery of the mystical dimension of the Christian life. Although it may appear to be a recent phenomenon, there's nothing new about spirituality. Christians have always been concerned with spiritual living, living within the Spirit of Jesus. Its popularity in recent years, however, comes largely in reaction to 19th century forms of Christian faith that deemphasized the experiential or mystical aspects of the Christian life. Spiritual retreats, spiritual directors, prayer practices, and the use of labyrinths emerged from primal yearnings for intimacy with God and solidarity with other human beings.

Spirituality seeks to remind us of the nearness of God, our relatedness to Christ, and the inspiration (in-spiriting) of the Holy Spirit—all of which empower us for acts of mercy, justice, and peace in the world. It concerns the way we organize our lives in light of our desire for God and commitment to share Christ's compassion for others. It encompasses how we eat, play, socialize, consume, and spend our time. It's the heart of Christian discipleship.

Discerning Spirits

For those of us in youth ministry who are tired of frumpy old “religion” with its pews, hymnals, committees, and denominational meetings, spirituality can feel like a more faithful alternative. After all, spirituality is about being with God, living in communion with Jesus, and participating in the works of the Holy Spirit. But is spirituality a “higher,” uncontaminated means to God? Does the integration of spirituality into youth ministry—with its scented candles, prayer practices, and emphasis on “being” with God—result in kids who are closer to Jesus and his way of love? Are all things labeled “spirituality” really of God? To put it more crassly, what's the difference between our candle-lit youth rooms and the Pottery Barn showroom?

Perhaps now that youth ministers are beginning to embrace this notion of spirituality, the next step is to discern what kind of spirituality we have. The Scriptures tell us there are many spirits at work in the world. As spirituality becomes more prevalent in youth ministry, we must learn to “test the spirits” and distinguish between the spirituality of the marketplace culture versus the spirituality of Jesus. The vital question brought to me by the youth ministry couple (“What are we doing?”) needs to be asked more frequently by youth ministers, pastors, and Christian marketers. As I watch the rise in spirituality books, practices, and events, it's apparent there's an uncritical acceptance by many of all things “spiritual” without the awareness that “spirituality” is just as vulnerable to the spirit of Mammon as it is to the spirit of Jesus. Here are three distinctions (there are many more) that may be helpful to those of us in youth ministry who seek a deeper awareness and integration of Christian spirituality.

Relationship versus Self-Reliance

The spirituality of Jesus is demonstrated by a life lived in loving relationship. It's the active desire to love God and others as we love ourselves. There are two aspects of this relationship.

The first, most commonly associated with spirituality, concerns our relationship with God. Christian spirituality requires living in a way that seeks greater awareness of and receptivity to God's love and empowerment. It's life lived in greater openness to Christ's offer of friendship (John 15:14-15).

Many of us engaged in Christian spirituality recognize the deep hunger among Christians to experience God. This hunger is what has prompted the increase in spiritual retreats and events designed to help young people and adults encounter God. These spiritual encounters can be wonderfully inspiring and healing; yet the spirituality of Jesus seeks a more constant relationship with God.

A spirituality of relationship means attending to our lives with God even when our experiences in prayer and spiritual activity are dry. In youth ministry this means we need to engage young people in consistent practices of attending to God within a community of faith so that students can feel the boredom and agitation that's part of life with God as well as the moments of deep spiritual enlightenment. In this way young people can recognize that relationship with God requires the same consistency needed in any real, ongoing relationship.

The second aspect of a spirituality of relationship concerns our interactions with others. This is often ignored in discussions about spirituality. However, just as Jesus was never satisfied to remain on mountaintops and places of retreat, so we, as friends of Jesus, seek greater awareness of and connection to all of God's creatures— the Palestinian immigrant and the suburban developer. Christian spirituality seeks an increasing intimacy with God and others. In fact, Scripture often suggests that unless we're seeking to share the suffering of others, our prayer lives will become illusory and self-centered.

In contrast, the spirituality of the marketplace is a spirituality of self-reliance. This is the “pull-yourself-up-by-yourown- boot-straps” spirituality—the way of life represented by the scribes and Pharisees. This is a utilitarian spirituality that trusts that the spiritual life comes from our own hard work and study. In the secular culture this is epitomized by the infomercial hosted by the sculpted and serene yoga instructor who is obviously a spiritual master because he's in such good physical shape and is flexible enough to clean his ear with his pinky toe.

Those of us attracted to this image of spirituality thrive on words like “discipline” and “practice.” We're inspired by stories of saints who fasted, slept in caves, and crawled on broken shale to chapel. This is macho spirituality, a spirituality of perfection. If we're not careful, we may begin to notice that our interest in spirituality, our engagement in spiritual direction, our spiritual books, and our prayer lives are more about proving our spiritual worthiness than learning to live in greater vulnerability with God and the people and situations we encounter in daily life.

Poverty versus Possessiveness

The spirituality of Jesus is a spirituality of poverty. It's life lived with a growing acceptance that we are finite, broken, and in need of love. It's living into the reality that there's no possession or experience that can satisfy our longing for God. A spirituality of poverty means trusting that our naked desire for God is enough.

It's a life that doesn't rely on possessions or accomplishments or even spiritual experiences, but is a spirituality of repentance, a life that continually turns to God for guidance and care. It's a life that seeks simplicity and sacrifice in order to release all that might stand between ourselves and God, ourselves and the suffering of others. Every spiritual exercise, retreat, or discipline is an exercise in repentance, a letting go of all that we cling to in order to be open and available to God. This is the “downward mobility” of Jesus that Henri Nouwen described. It's living the way of the cross, an increasing willingness to be emptied of everything that impedes our love for God and our solidarity with other people (Philippians 2).

In contrast, the spirituality of the marketplace is a spirituality of possessiveness. It's a spirituality of accumulation that asserts the belief that human beings increase their worth through material goods. In North America, where we express who we are by what we buy, it's easy to believe that being spiritual means consuming spiritual products. Meditative CDs, books by ancient saints, cruciform jewelry, and aromatherapy candles all seek to communicate to ourselves and others that we are, indeed, spiritual. What we may not realize, however, is that our sacred purchases expose the influence of the market culture and its spirituality of consumption.

Marketplace spirituality asserts that our truest identity is that of consumer, and that buying and accumulating is how God is mediated and faith expressed. Perhaps the best example of this is the use of labyrinths in youth ministry. A labyrinth can be a powerful tool in helping young people deepen their awareness and experience of God, yet the increase in youth groups devoting funds to possess and promote their individual labyrinths can sometimes feed the same hollow appetite for materialism that the market economy depends upon. Sadly, spiritual stuff is profitable, so Christian businesses, sometimes innocently, continue to promote the conviction that buying spiritual products brings us closer to God.

Engagement versus Escape

The spirituality of Jesus takes place in the ordinary, not the otherworldly. While lecturing at Regent College, author and pastor Eugene Peterson was asked to define Christian spirituality. He replied, “Spirituality is going to the mailbox to get your mail.” I like this definition. What Peterson, I believe, was trying to communicate is that spirituality isn't concerned solely with prayer and blissful experiences. Spirituality is about how we live our daily lives: how we pick up the mail, eat dinner, and tuck our children in at night. In this way Christian spirituality is more concerned with the mundane than the mysterious.

This means that if we want to grow in faith, we need to pay less attention to our religious accomplishments and more attention to our home life. Our kitchen, our child's school, the grocery store, and the church parking lot is where Christian spirituality takes place as much as or more than at the retreat center. This reality means that the spiritual life is often filled with anxiety (the student who gets lost on a night hike), agitation (a young person who continually disrupts Sunday school), and discomfort (the homeless people who sleep near the church), as much as peace, healing, and comfort.

In contrast, the spirituality of the marketplace is a spirituality of escape. It's a spirituality of bliss. In this image, Christian spirituality is reduced to a tonic for the anxieties of modern living. This is spa-tuality. Feeling tired and stressed-out? Getting snippy with the kids? It's time for a spirituality retreat. Solitary strolls by the ocean, quiet nights in prayer, and meditative massage all promise an escape from the drudgery of ordinary Christian living. In this image, spirituality is limited to spiritual things—prayer, worship, and solitude with God. Cleaning house, administrative paperwork, and van rides appear to be lesser activities, distractions from the spiritual life that God intended.

This form of spirituality ignores the fact that Jesus spent most of his life fully engaged in very ordinary circumstances (eating, walking, sleeping, conversing). In many ways his witness of God's love is most powerful in these ordinary activities. A spirituality of engagement means that we seek to be open and present to God in all areas of life, not just those designated as “spiritual.”

Spirituality in Youth Ministry

Spirituality is a needed corrective within youth ministry. How can we share God's love if we don't take regular time to let God love and empower us? How can young people trust our words about God if they're not given the time and space to encounter God? Silence, prayer exercises, candles, and labyrinths can be helpful to young people and adults in noticing God's presence within and among us. Yet, our spiritual exercises and experiences can be distracting and deceptive if they're not grounded in the spirituality of Jesus. As adults responsible for the spiritual formation of young people, we must discern the spirits within our spirituality programs.

If we trust that Christian spirituality is about relationships rather than selfreliance, then perhaps we need to spend as much time nurturing friendships and increasing the diversity of people within our youth programs as we do in prayer. If we believe that Christian spirituality is about poverty rather than possessiveness, then we can repent from forms of youth ministry that rely on mystical props and exotic outings and trust more in the presence of God. If we believe that Christian spirituality is about engagement rather than escape, hopefully we can have confidence that the ordinary tasks within our ministries will be enough to convey the Gospel.

As St. Francis once said, “Preach the Gospel, and if necessary, use words.” Perhaps God's love is best expressed in how we greet kids, how we drive the church van, how we spend our money, and how we are in friendships and interactions with parents. Spirituality is much more than how we pray; it's about the life from which we pray.

What are we doing? We're doing the same thing we do in all of our endeavors in youth ministry—we're trying to help kids follow in the way of Jesus. The hope of youth ministry isn't that young people will become more spiritual—it's that young people will become more open and available to the presence of Jesus and his ways of compassion.

What we need to ask within our spiritual, conventional, or postmodern ministries is whether or not we're helping young people and adults grow more committed in their relationships with God and others. Is the spiritual life we're promoting consistent with the life of Jesus? Are the fruits of the spiritual exercises and practices we offer young people in harmony with the fruits of the Spirit that Paul outlines (Galatians 5)? Is there greater generosity, kindness, patience, love, joy, and self-discipline as a result of these experiences? These are the questions we need to consider in order to help discern what we, as youth ministers, are doing to accompany young people on the way of Jesus.

It’s a youth worker’s dream. Just imagine: youth groups from 20, 30, or 40 churches getting together regularly through the year; dozens of other youth workers in your city cooperating together to accomplish this; willing cooperation between churches and parachurch organizations; a monthly forum for youth workers to discuss issues, questions, problems; the combination of the city’s churches’ strengths and contacts to reach teenagers and others with the gospel of Jesus Christ.

The dream is reality in Rochester, New York—we call it Youth Worker Roundtable. Yet it’s a pity—and perhaps bad publicity for Jesus Christ—that in most places youth workers don’t share their questions, answers, and resources with each other, that they don’t become allies in the Lord’s work.

Detective
The Roundtable began with one youth worker, frustrated with little growth in his own youth group. Determined to find out what others were doing in their churches, he phoned the Bible bookstores to discover who the big customers of youth materials were—the quickest way, he figured, to find churches with growing youth groups. He asked his own pastor what he knew about other churches’ youth programs. And he called the YFC and Young Life offices.

Armed with what he had learned, he interviewed youth workers throughout Rochester, asking them not only what and when and how they did what they did, but pressed into the whys, too. As a result, this man became personally acquainted with a variety of youth ministers and ministries.

By the seventh or eighth interview, he had detected a common thread that ran throughout the city. Youth workers’ lives, he discovered, were largely isolated within the walls of the church—much like a house-bound single parent—leaving them no one to ask questions of, no one to complain to about problems, no one to be happy for their successes. Result? Strained, frustrated, and lonely youth workers. Many he interviewed said they wanted to get together with other youth workers and their groups, but it never materialized. Meanwhile, they kept slugging it out by themselves.

The interviewer didn’t need to sleep on this one—he immediately returned to his office and wrote eight letters, one to each of his new friends. “Let’s get together,” he wrote, “and talk about apathy in our youth groups.” It was a common problem exposed by the interviews.

Three came to the first meeting on a frosty Saturday morning in December, 1984. Two church youth workers and a YFC club leader sat around, drinking orange juice and munching donuts—and talking. “I came,” remembers one of those first three, “because I got a letter in the mail from a youth worker who said he had problems like I had problems.”

No Experts
It was a little disheartening since there were only three of us, but we got to know each other, discussed apathy in our youth groups, encouraged and prayed for each other, and agreed to meet again the following month at a different church.

“The meeting was designed so that there was no expert,” recalls one participant. “It was just a time of sharing between youth workers, trying to build each other up. That attracted me to keep coming even if it was just the three of us again. But we agreed to invite other youth workers to come with us.” The more people we got to come, we reasoned, the greater the potential.

“I think the most important thing we can do is affirm each other,” said one of the three that morning. “And I like saying what I think among people I don’t work under or over.”

Out went a second batch of letters notifying the youth-working interviewees of Roundtable’s second meeting. This time eight of us showed up (we first three each brought a friend or two). Our discussion—this time about vision—proved to be valuable, especially as we heard each other’s visions and then refined our own. At the end we decided to meet regularly from then on, choosing a weekday midmorning time. The place? We still liked meeting each month at a different church so that the Roundtable would never be identified with any single church, organization, or denomination. Format? Neither speakers nor programs, but a simple, relevant topic we could hash out. The host church’s youth pastor would mail reminders and lead the discussion, thus rotating what little leadership there was among all the members.

The third meeting saw 18 walk in the door, and by the fourth we were up to 25.

Allies and Workcamps
Allies ’85 grew out of this fourth meeting. Somebody suggested we get all our youth groups together for a fall kick-off rally—complete with Christian band, speaker, and a campus-evangelism strategy session of the kids themselves, divided up according to high schools instead of church groups. Thirty-five churches eventually participated in Allies ’85, as well as planners from five different denominations and YFC. (The tradition continues each fall. Typical fare is Petra, Tony Campolo, a three-hour college fair, and 2,500 teenagers.)

Allies not only generated a dozen Bible studies in various schools around the city, but our success with the autumn campaign prompted us to sponsor Workcamp, which of this writing has repaired 39 homes belonging to Rochester’s poor. “What I’m looking forward to,” shares a new member of the group, “is more of a joint strategy going beyond Allies in the fall and Workcamp in the spring. What’s miraculous about this thing is that it’s a truly ecumenical effort, with common goals and common hopes and common ground in the Lord.”

That’s not all Roundtable has spawned. The youth groups get together throughout the year for student leadership training workshops, Games Day in cooperation with Rochester YFC, New Year’s Eve parties, Bowling Blow-Outs, roller skating nights, and a calendar full of other events.

“Our kids are a small group, and sometimes they think they’re alone,” says one youth worker. “Through Roundtable and its team activities, they’ve started to realize that they aren’t the only Christian kids around.”

Slow Down The Clock!
Through Roundtable’s monthly discussions, its youth leaders have gotten to know each other, enjoy each other, and trust each other. “Probably the most important ingredient,” says one, “is the willingness to spend time together. For from that commitment comes our encouragement, our evangelism and outreach ideas, our workcamps, our Roundtable meetings—all we do, in fact comes out of a desire to spend time together, which in turn flows from our common bond in Jesus Christ.”

Now three years into Roundtable’s various ministries, we cooperate easily and gladly despite the denominational differences—Baptist, Assemblies of God, Presbyterian, Methodist, Christian Reformed, independent churches, and others. We worship the same Lord, albeit in different ways (reallydifferent), but our unity in Jesus Christ has impacted our city. Sometimes the differences are raised, but usually—because we’re such good friends—we just toss off a few jokes about them and go on. Doctrinal differences simply don’t affect our working together since our focus is the worship of God, the Lordship of Jesus, and the importance of spreading the gospel. On those points we all agree.

“When we come to Roundtable,” explains one youth worker, “we break down all our denominational walls for that hour, drop all that baggage, and leave it behind. We come because we have a common bond—Jesus Christ.”

More Than Professional
At the heart of Roundtable are its monthly meetings in which friendship, credibility, and respect grows. We learn to feel safe with each other in the meetings. The meetings mean encouragement, they mean empathetic ears to hear, they mean a source of information that we can use in our own churches. Without Roundtable’s monthly discussions and sharing, our other events—and dreams—would never materialize.

“We make attachments—personal and professional—with each other,” reports a member. “Without them you can burn out fast in this profession.”

“I keep coming because I get encouraged and affirmed,” says another. “I feel supported in prayer here.”

At the end of each monthly meeting, we decide what to discuss the next month. So far we’ve hit music, youth workers’ needs, venturing into a student’s world, budgets and fund raising, short-term missions, parents, discipling teens, abortion and health classes, and discipline.

The most loosely knit organization I know, the Roundtable has no formal leadership. No one is “in charge.” It hangs together by the commitment of its participants to the vision that our city might see Jesus. In a sense, then, we’re all leaders. By pooling our resources and dividing tasks according to abilities, we all participate in the leadership. “The Roundtable is a county clearinghouse of resources,” one youth worker explains. “One advisor knows his stuff about audiovisual programming. Another is tops in small-group ministry with teenagers. Someone else has good ideas about Bible studies.”

Not everything has worked brilliantly. The local Bible Baptist churches refuse to associate with us for reasons we can only guess at. The Lutherans, Episcopalians, and United Churches of Christ dismiss us as too fundamental. And many other fine youth workers just don’t block time in their schedules for Roundtable meetings and events, choosing instead to work in their own corners despite our continuing invitations.

Baptists Plus AG Equals Warp?
Only a few times have we actually troubled the churches. One Baptist church, afraid their young people would become doctrinally warped, forbade their youth to participate in Roundtable events because of the involvement of the Assemblies of God. Despite the willingness of the Baptist youth leader, Roundtable is proscribed for him and for his young people. Part of the church’s irritation with Roundtable, too, arose from the amount of time the youth pastor was spending on Roundtable activities, time has congregation believed was better spend in his own church. Parishioners complained that they were paying him to work with their own young people, not to be gallivanting all over the city with the young people of other churches. Such a complaint belies the “short leash” syndrome, characterized by a pastoral staff that’s encourage to minister to their full capability—but it had better not go further than the four walls of their own church.

It’s a shame some churches can’t hurdle the barrier of distinctions. We canwork toward a common cause of Christ without agreeing on every point of theology. Cooperation doesn’t necessitate compromise. In their quest for purity, however, some churches lose their first love and actually end up dismembering the Body of Christ. Our Roundtable stands as living proof that, despite our differences, we can work together.

“Roundtable members are committed to the larger body of Jesus Christ, not just to our own youth groups,” comments a youth worker. “And that’s why a lost of areas can’t have a Roundtable—they see the Body of Christ as their particular youth group or church.”

Yet we, too, struggle with how much time to invest in Roundtable projects and group efforts. We each feel the tug of so much work that needs to be done in our own churches and that competes with the time required to do Allies and Workcamp and all. It’s a fine line we walk. But since our own churches have come to support our Roundtable work, they tend to be forgiving.

Working Out the Bugs
In addition to skeptical churches, there’s the logistical dilemma of accommodating volunteer youth workers, who generally don’t have the leisure to take in our daytime Roundtable meetings. We never could get evening meetings off the ground. We’re still working on this one.

We also struggle with finances. Since we’re not a church with assets, or a fund-raising entity like a mission board or YFC, our group projects always sag under the financial burden. Only through much prayer and more sweat have we financed three $10,000 Allies events and two $6,000 Workcamps. God has always helped us dig out of a hole—yet finances are always a concern.

So we encourage the participating youth groups to give Roundtable a hand with fund raisers throughout the year—city-wide yard sales, mega-carwashes, mini-masters fund-raising golf tournaments, roller skating parties. Sometimes we tack a buck onto a concert or amusement park ticket price and donate the extra money to the Roundtable. We solicit donations from local Christian businesses and write to Rochester churches pleading to be put on their missions budget. When we visit churches to explain Allies or Workcamp, we ask for individual donations. And, of course, we take offerings every chance we get.

With the vision of Rochester’s 75,000 teenagers in the back of our minds, we are compelled to step outside the four walls of our own churches, hold hands together, and plan ways to reach those souls. Such a vision ended our division.v

Will today’s children, once grown, make this country a better place?

According to a recent survey conducted by Public Agenda, a New York-based opinion research firm, only 37 percent of the few thousand respondents answered in the affirmative.

Does that surprise you? It shouldn’t—but not for the reasons you may immediately assume. Rather than validating what a large percentage of America believes about kids today, let’s turn the tables a bit.

What’s the first thing that pops into your mind when you read or hear the moniker Generation X? Do adjectives like industrious, positive, and faithfulfill your gray matter? Or do lazy, cynical, and overindulgent take up residence there? Not only are the popular perceptions of people born after the mid-’60s as slackers, underachievers, and grunge disciples overgeneralized, but the adults who fail to hold kids to higher expectations are at fault because they help perpetuate this myth.

Youths will rise—or, in this case, fall—to whatever standard is set by adults who lead, teach, or care for them. What do we believe as youth workers? Do we really think Generation X has “nowhere to go and nothing to live for”? If we buy into our society’s perceptions of kids, we’re giving up on them and their potential.

I believe this self-fulfilling prophecy is at work in our homes, churches, and schools—perhaps more often than we may assume. Have you heard parents dismiss drunken binges as “just something kids are bound to do”? Have you known teachers to inflate grades in an effort to normalize undisciplined study habits? And have we, as youth workers, skimmed through topical Bible study guides because “kids just aren’t that deep”? I think youth workers’ expectations of kids, by and large, are far too low—and what’s worse is that many of us have trapped ourselves in these expectations.

The Cynicism Trap
What happens when we, instead of taking a fresh look at our kids and cheering them on, expect the worst from them—and then actually get mad when they do exactly what we expected! (And of course, the next time we’ll expect that they outdo themselves and continue to sink lower into the listless sea of angst, apathy, and thrift store retrowear.)

Years ago I played a game with my junior highers in which groups of six were asked to secretly select a home appliance; the rest of the group had to figure out their choice based on the group’s acting ability. Over the years the game had digressed from creative selections (food processors, humidifiers, washers, and air poppers) to the hum-drum and mundane (toasters, toasters, and toasters).

One evening following yet another underwhelming burst of improvisation from the young players, I shared with my volunteer staff this fatal conclusion: “Kids just aren’t creative anymore.” So I yanked this game from our bank of programming tools—and gave up on my kids in the process. I didn’t want to subject them to any activity that could highlight their collective lack of enthusiasm.

But I actually put my foot in the cynicism trap when I first believed that kids today aren’t creative, even before I said it: My kids were noncreative, not because something was lacking in them—it was something lacking inme. I didn’t expect creativity from them in the first place! After watching the umpteenth toaster charade, I should have simply affirmed them (“Nice toasters!”) and then asked them to play again and outdo themselves.

Perhaps many young people don’t naturally gravitate toward creativity, but with a little creativity on our part, we can help them to come through. We can safely expect more from them—not only with regard to creativity, but also when it concerns teaching spiritual truths and social skills—like respect, proper speech, leadership, and responsibility. But we must first break from the cynicism trap.

My new drama team didn’t turn out to be the dozen kids I recruited and hoped would sign on—it was a group of three freshmen girls, all either new believers or newly dedicated ones. They were young in their faith, in their relationships with boys—basically immature. When I banked on the team being bigger, I announced to the youth group that the drama team could customize its vignettes to augment my Wednesday night talks. But because the team turned out to be only three freshmen girls with no perceivable talent or experience, I backed off.

Apparently I confused maturity with talent. I reluctantly let them work on the themes—trying only to let them see the “I believe in you” remnant that hung by like a thread inside me.

But that’s all they needed: Within a month I found my youth group drawn to their drama—riveting portrayals of loneliness, abuse, and fear; lighthearted and downright gut-busting portrayals of New Age spirituality and family life. These girls shined—from the inception of their ideas to their presentation—because I had a mustard seed’s worth of faith in them. And they moved mountains in my weekly meeting. (Unfortunately for me, they were a tough act to follow!)

The Culture Trap
This relates to how much we trust God to set young people apart from the world. When we read surveys concerning kids (like the one that opened this article) and studies on youth culture, it’s no crime to wonder, “How can our kids rise above that?” But then rather than coming to terms with the question, do we downshift our youth groups so they become havens where kids merely stay out of trouble or feel accepted?

Isn’t youth group much more than simply a safe place? Do we as youth workers have low spiritual expectations of our kids? If we don’t expect God to change them into confident, humble, strong, self-controlled, holy, respectful, loving people, then what are we doing for them?

I wish I could share lots of stories of how my tougher spiritual expectations turned loose a ton of young Christians to transform their world, but I haven’t noticed those changes happening in my kids over the last few years. And yet, while composing these words, my doors have been darkened a half dozen times by former youth group kids now in college—and bristling with excitement for God and their part in his work on their campuses. It seems God was faithful (again) in germinating the seeds of spiritual expectations I helped to plant. Happily, these kids are different: They’re now embodying full-time the qualities I’d seen previously in only trace amounts. And if I hadn’t believed God would complete a good work in them, my kids may not have had the chance to reach that point.

The Ignorance Trap
Our expectations as youth workers may be too low in some areas, too high in others—or nonexistent—because we don’t really know what to expect. Youth workers are notorious for being laid-back, just hanging out with kids and relating to them, relegating firm expectations to teachers and parents. But that’s our job, too—and honing, crafting, and refining a youth ministry philosophy is part of that.

One aspect of my youth ministry philosophy that’s helped me develop realistic expectations of my students is recognizing each of them as existing in one of three states: natural (unregenerated), spiritual (regenerated and living a godly life), or carnal (regenerated and living in the flesh). With caution I attempt to surmise where each young person is, and my expectations follow accordingly. It’d be foolish, for example, for me to expect a “natural” teen to have the fruit of the Spirit—I can’t expect much from them, spiritually speaking, except perhaps an honest search for God. From the “spiritual” teen, on the other hand, I expect righteousness—though my approach and timeline greatly depends on the individual. Simply painting a philosophy of ministry in those three brush strokes has greatly helped me raise expectations I have for my kids—while at the same time keeping me from becoming disillusioned.

Kids are constantly bombarded with this message: Believe in yourself. But they have no reason to believe in themselves—unless they’re reminded of the resources the Holy Spirit offers. Kids must first believe in Jesus. And if we as youth workers are to have higher expectations for our kids, we must do the same.

While I was still living at home, my parents got divorced. Because they'd been active members of a church and even held Bible studies in our home, my parents' divorce left me with a distrust of the church. I remember a missionary lady who babysat us while my mom worked. She liked to flannel graph Bible stories like Adam and Noah. One day, she chased me around the house trying to spank me after I'd called the girl across the street a really bad name. She stopped chasing me when I prayed aloud for God's forgiveness. I didn't believe it, but she did and it was enough to get out of the spanking. This experience taught me that faking my belief was okay. When I was in seminary some friends formed a “Holy Club” with what turned out to be exclusive membership criteria. I was never invited into the club. They used their exclusivity to make their impression about my spirituality clear. I didn't measure up.

I've never measured up. Not only have I never really felt worthy of God's love, but every success I've had is always tempered by the fact that I still see myself as the stupid kid from the broken home—the kid sitting in the back of the class who almost flunked out of high school and college and seminary. Feeling good about anything has been a near impossibility. This has helped make my spiritual journey a complete and total wreck.

For the past year, no “traditional” way of connecting with God has worked. I can't seem to pray. Worship often feels meaningless. I don't have a devotional life. I often don't feel connected to God. I've prayed and cried and struggled and suffered through a ridiculously long valley, during which much of Scripture reads like a dirge, prayer feels impossible, and connecting with God feels more like being anchored to a sinking ship.

So here I am, trying to be “spiritual,” and feeling like a failure. And I think part of why I feel like a failure is because I'm not quite sure what success looks like. The way it was defined for me growing up doesn't work anymore, but I'm not fully sure of the alternative. I mean, how do we fully define what it means to be spiritual or to “do spirituality?” What does a spiritual person look like?

As I've been trying to understand the concept of spirituality, I've shopped around to see how other people seem to be doing spirituality. Several types of spiritual lives are emerging, and I've tried to see if I could squeeze myself into any of these broadgroup categories. I realize that some of these may seem to be oversimplified, but I think there's truth in the analogies nonetheless. See if any of them resonate with you:

Rubik's Cube Spirituality

Christians have spent a lot of our history articulating all of our propositional truths and fashioning our spirituality around them. We work and work to make all of our squares line up. This is the spirituality that says, “Don't drink alcohol. Don't smoke. Don't cuss.” If you strictly adhere to edicts A through ZZ, then you're set. I'll confess that I've paid homage to this much of my life, hoping to hide my own spiritual inadequacy by rule worship. This spirituality is dependent on a perfect performance and relies on impressing others (from senior pastors to church boards to even our students). Pharisees, both past and present, would be pleased, but a spirituality of rules and requirements wasn't satisfying my spiritual hunger.

Praise Spirituality

There's a huge wave of spirituality today that relies on emotion in worship. If, in a moment of worship, I act emotional, I am therefore spiritual, or at least I'm perceived to be spiritual by those raising their hands and singing along with me. And, maybe, God will see me and get the message about my spirituality, too. Could I fit within this kind of spirituality where emotion rules my walk with God? I'm not very emotional in public, and I often feel awkward in corporate worship. I see people singing and dancing for God, but this one gave me hives.

Performance Spirituality

This is the spirituality youth workers have when they stand in front of kids and proclaim rules to live by. This one is fed by the Rubik's spirituality but from a different angle. This kind of spirituality exists because youth workers know that they need to be spiritual leaders in order to keep their jobs. They espouse spiritual rules and requirements in order to be an example for younger students, regardless of whether or not they've found those rules to be life-giving in their own lives—and often to the detriment of an honest walk with God.

Failure Spirituality

This is the kind of spirituality that admits failure right from the start. It proclaims all of the adherents' mistakes without apology, and reflecting on them looks toward the future with an “I'm probably going to keep failing” kind of an attitude. This slouchy kind of approach to God seems to me a cop out. Yes, we're all imperfect and wholly inadequate. I already know I'm a failure. For me, to make it part of a daily dis-affirmation would feed my feelings of failure without feeding my need for spiritual nourishment. Besides, isn't the “good news” that there's something beyond simply my own failure?

Pop Spirituality

Not to pick too much on popular trends that can help people think about their connectedness to God, but I'm skeptical of current trends in spirituality that ride on the coattails of or seek to fill the pockets of writers, speakers, marketers, companies, and “spiritual giants” seeking to sell their own brands of spirituality. Anything that says it can reduce my walk with God into “three simple steps” stinks of someone's cool idea to help them make their house payments.

Postmodern Spirituality

Sometimes we humans feel better when we reject everything and admit that we're grasping at mysterious stories knitted into the fabric of the universe. For that, the postmodern spirituality gets high praises. However, I'm also very skeptical of it. I think that Christian publishers, looking for a way to boost lagging sales, are perpetuating the idea of “postmodern spirituality” and selling it to us with tags like “Deepening your walk with God” and “Learning to tell your story.” If I'm being postmodern by purchasing the latest postmodern merchandise, I'm just following a trend and not being spiritually genuine. What will I be when this trend changes? How do I think about myself? I can't deconstruct and then rebuild my own beliefs by reading a book about deconstructing beliefs. The only way I'll accomplish that is through introspection and slogging my way through my dark nights and valleys. Which leads me to…

‘My' Spirituality

So what do we do when our journeys don't fit into any of the “known” categories? We create our own. This is my spirituality—aware of my own huge mistakes, cognizant of my hunger and my hope. I put together a spirituality that seeks to fill my need to be spiritual. This construction at my own hands is unique. It doesn't look like anything or smell like anything that would work for anyone else. The problem with this spirituality is that it's unaccountable. It's indescribable. It's uncomfortable. Yours will be unique as well—something that doesn't look or sound like anyone else's. There won't be a book you can buy on “your” spirituality; there won't be a three-, five-, or sevenstep plan to help you navigate “your” spiritual valleys. It's your own walk toward the holy, and the only one who can articulate it is you.

I'm reminded of the way Christians walk into conventions or bookstores or food courts and choose from a variety of products to try to fill a void. When I look back on my walk with God, I see that my past has been just a series of spiritual shopping sprees where I, wanting to get closer to God, have bought, consumed, and adopted prepackaged spiritual aids.

On my journey I find comfort in my own imaginings of how the disciples must have felt meeting Jesus. I find joy in knowing that they'd been interrupted with the unfathomable truth of God reaching into the mechanistic history of humanity to do the miraculous. I've loved listening to John the Baptist's doubts in prison, Paul's confusing conversion and subsequent wrestling with his own tradition, and the early church's attempts to understand Jesus, without denying his divinity, humanity, or message.

It helps me to see myself close to where the disciples were. I'm left seeking new forms for my walk with God. This makes my spirituality intensely personal. There are no squares to fill in; no items to cross off on a spiritual “to do” list. This is a journey not of forms and tradition— there's no tradition to obey, and no requirements to meet—it's a journey of discovery.

We're on our own paths with God, not with our best friend, not with our spiritual mentors, not even with our spouses. We're on it, and we're alone with God. While I've been learning to accept my journey and understand that my views don't make me a heretic, I've learned some new things about my spiritual journey. Again, these are not meant to be pithy sayings to offer wisdom concerning your walk with the holy. If they help you to articulate your own journey better, great. But these thoughts are ultimately unique to my experiences.

John Chapter One

The first fourteen verses of this chapter absolutely blow me away, and I'm sad that I've over-thought these verses in the past. When I read this passage (or 1 John 1 or Colossians 1) I feel like I'm not reading the words of someone who has Jesus figured out. Instead, I'm reading the words of someone trying to grasp the mysterious identity of Christ. Through the years, I've taken these passages as factual, finite statements about who Jesus is. Today, I believe it's much more than that.

I see humans, directed by the mysterious, subtle hand of God, searching on paper to understand the identity, power, majesty, and mystery of Jesus. When I read John's words I hear a struggle. How to describe him? What to say about his existence? Should we assume that John felt his description was complete or even adequate? I don't think so. Given the eternal nature and mystery of God, these words amount to one drop in an ocean of hidden truths. John presents us with the mystery, not a trite, closed-ended doctrine upon which we should build a mound of theology. Why do we feel the need to dissect these verses instead of contemplating them?

God created Mars

This may sound silly, but the other day my ADHD mind was hyper-focusing on Mars. What an awesome thought: there are other universes; there are other planets. God formed Saturn's rings, made comets, knit together the fabric of all the heavenly bodies. Too often I've limited my “God is a creative painter” speech to Earth. There is so much not on this planet that screams God's majesty.

I read about the creation in Genesis 1-2 and Paul's words in Romans 1:19-20, and, for some reason, I relied on these to describe God as something that I don't have to think about anymore—I've figured God out and don't have anything else to discover. Imagine thinking it was possible to do that with the all-powerful maker of everything. I'm ashamed that in my journeying to understand the holy I've created such a very tiny place where I expect God to live.

God Is Terrifyingly Wonderful

Psalm 99 speaks about God as the king of everything. My spiritual journey has been based on diminishing God's awesomeness, terrifying-ness, and wonder. I worship, I'd have to be face down. Or balled up in the fetal position trying to protect myself. I don't think it's even possible for humans to imagine God's presence. We can desire it, but we can't even imagine it. What does it say when we shrink-wrap programs and systems for worship that we claim can put us in God's presence?

Self Crucifixion

Jesus' instruction in Luke 9:23-24 and Paul's words in Galatians 2:20 challenge my devotion to God; they set the bar too high. Here, the only analogy I can reference is Mel Gibson's gruesome portrayal of Christ's suffering. Those moving, difficult- to-watch scenes were correct, except for one important detail. That should have been me having his stomach ripped open by the whips. That should have been me with the thorns slammed through my epidermis and into my skull. That should have been me bleeding and falling and broken. That should be me today.

It blows my mind that I've diminished the challenge of daily crucifixion into living a mostly comfortable life broken now and then by small moments of slight discomfort. I'm disappointed with my inability to accept my own self-extinction. If my pursuit of self-extinction is to be genuine, I have to come to grips with what Jesus and Paul really say. When I read, “Take up your cross,” I have to ask, “To what extent?” Typically, Christians answer, “to the most extreme end.” And, yet, I see no example of this within living Christians today, nor can I effectively live this truth.

The Sacredness of the Secular

Maybe there was a time when God rode the wave of “Christianity”—maybe in the Great Revivals of the 1800s. Maybe it was in the lives of great leaders like Wesley, Luther, and Calvin. But I wonder if God inhabits “Christianity” anymore or anything with the “Christian” label. I find God more in the places I previously wouldn't have even looked. I hear God teaching me about the meaning of life in Fight Club. I hear a call to climb onto God's lap through Faith Hill's song, “Breathe.” I hear a clarion call to practice love and compassion in the musical Rent. I've felt God's unconditional acceptance in a drug addict. These are divinely-inspired moments where God uses the unexpected to speak truth.

Conversely, I find little help or truth about God in anything with the label “Christian.” Christian media notices my hunger, but only serves Happy Meals. I wonder if God is even interested in the tritely-coined, bumper-sticker phrases found in most Christian media. It makes me wonder if many of these people cling to their media occupations more to fulfill their desires to be superstars than to proclaim God's truth.

Could it be that God is dissatisfied with the easy, shallow interpretations most Christians find in Christian media? Is it possible that God now chooses non- Christian musicians and movies to proclaim truth? This realization has had a scathing effect on my spiritual journey. I've written several “Christian” books. In what way have I furthered the rhetoric of the Christian subculture? Have I served spiritual Happy Meals?

The Christianity of Non-Christians

I once heard a very popular speaker say something to the effect of “I'm constantly aware that there are non-Christians who are more Christian than I am.”

I was recently talking to a close friend who was traveling through a very dark spiritual time. This friend's summation of his journey ended with these words that scared me, “Tim, if you're ever struggling with anything spiritual, don't tell other Christians.”

And then there's the often-heard phrase, “Christians are the only people who shoot their wounded.” God doesn't just show up in the secula,r but I think God is often offended by the conduct of those who claim to follow Christ.

The more I'm open about my spiritual journey, the more afraid I am. And you know, I'm not terrified of demonic powers, nor am I scared “liberals.” I'm scared about the people who are so afraid of scrutinizing their own journeys that they'll pick apart mine. Through my journeying I've found that there are people who are both wonderful and don't know Jesus. This creates a conflict for me: non-Christians who can teach truth about God, which leads to another question: Is there any room in the justice of God for Christians who hate other Christians and for non-Christians who love better than Christians?

Sadly, part of my journey has included the belief that non-Christians and people of other faiths are somehow lesser humans. My attitude and conduct in this area make me ache for their forgiveness.

The Failure of My Spirituality

Revelation 3:14-17 reminds me that my spiritual journey is, in the end, more about my own comfort and ineffectiveness. I look good and sound good, but I'm really just a liar. Ultimately, is all I've done just harangue against people and ideology? In the end, if my search is to be an honest one, I have to accept that what Jesus says to the church in Laodicea is a sermon aimed at me. My spiritual journey is really just a string of connected missed opportunities: times I could've prayed, but didn't; times I could've read the Bible to my children, but didn't; moments where I could've stuck around and listened to a kid, but I checked out.

Here's the irony of my spiritual journey: the more I've “pursued God,” the more I've become like the church in Laeodicea. I've allowed my journey to do the work for me, and my own soul has become corrupted. I'm a spiritual failure. And, if I'm going to be honest before God I have to admit that.

I have to wonder: have the past 22 years of being a Christian just been the opening credits to a long journey of pieced-together moments of hope and despair? Have I been hallucinating in my walk and deceiving myself about who God is and who I am? Can I even ask these questions and still call myself a Christian? Can I feel this and accept this and admit this, and still write and teach and work with students?

The awful aspect of all of this is that there's no quick three-point checklist for me to give you or happy little ending. I can't write “The End” on this article or on my journey. There's no easy-to-swallow Bible verse that answers my questions. (And those who would offer bumper-sticker-theology answers to another's spiritual valleys need to spend some time contemplating the log in their own spiritual journeys.)

There's no salve that makes me feel better. And often God seems so distant and silent. I'm always going to be the stupid kid in the back of the class aching from his parents' divorce. I'm always going to be the one remaining non-member of the Holy Club.

My only resolve is this: This is my journey. These are my questions. This is my own spirituality. But I do believe that somehow in some way along my journey, Jesus shows up. Maybe he's wearing the skin of a drug addict. Maybe he's posing as an atheist grocery store clerk. He doesn't show up with a Bible or a statement or a press release or a best seller or his latest album or movie. He just shows up, holds my hand, and walks with me.

After that…who knows.

I'm one of those people who just has to try new things. Kellogg's puts marshmallows in Fruit Loops, and I'm there with my bowl. Smucker's puts honey in their peanut butter, and I have a jar in my pantry the day after it hits the shelves. I've been asked to leave the Ben & Jerry's section of the grocery store more than once after accosting the box boy as he put the new flavors out on the freezer shelves.

In the last year we've seen a variety of new flavors of Mountain Dew. (I pause here and bow to the Pavlovian power of suggestion and allow you and myself to go and get one. There. Ready to continue?)

We youth workers don't, and probably never will, all approach the Scriptures in the same way. But most of us can agree about the magical properties of Mountain Dew.

So I wondered how to approach the idea of our differing approaches to spirituality with the one common factor that the majority of us share.

Differing Dew

Most grocery stores and better convenience stores now carry one or more of the following:

Mountain Dew: Code Red (carbonated wedding punch);

Mountain Dew: Live Wire (carbonated Sunny Delight);

Mountain Dew: Pitch Black (carbonated Dimetapp);

And the new Mountain Dew: Baja Blast (carbonated non-alcoholic margarita).

In an effort to bring us closer together as people of God, let us apply the Dewlike marketing principles to the Gospels we all know and love.

Jesus: Code Red 
(aka: The Gospel According to Matthew)

Like the flashing red light in the submarine movies, Matthew wants us to know the time has come. Half the book reads like someone saying “Dive, dive. Are you ready? Too late!”

Jesus: Code Red will be marketed toward the Evangelical church, shouting the Good News at the top of their lungs and then leaving you with an aftertaste like you just went to a wedding.

Jesus: Live Wire
(aka: The Gospel According To Mark)

For Mark, it's all about what's happening right here, right now. The idea that Jesus showed up barely qualifies as news. It's all good news for Mark.

Jesus: Live Wire will be a favorite of the non-denominational megachurches for its sweet taste on the lips and immediate caffeine buzz. The fact that it's also the only one with a distinctive orange taste helps delude people into believing that it's actually good for them.

Jesus: Pitch Black
(aka: The Gospel According to Luke)

With lots of thunder and lightning, this is a darker, more robust Scripture. The good doctor has a mission here. He has a sense of what this flavor will be. Even the label says “Limited Edition.”

A deeper, more cultivated palate may be necessary to appreciate the subtle nuances of this gospel, and, of course, this particular flavor isn't for everyone.

You will probably see a lot of Episcopalians and Presbyterians serving Jesus: Pitch Black.

Jesus: Baja Blast
(aka: The Gospel According to John)

This one is Jesus on an island—Jesus sitting with his feet up teaching the surfers while they take a break from the waves. John's Jesus is full of wisdom for those who want to chill out awhile and listen.

Lacking the warnings of Matthew and the intensity of Mark, Jesus: Baja Blast will be a staple for the United Church of Christ and the Universalists.

A Common Dew

But it's all one Dew, isn't it? It's not the marketing or even the fact that some flavors of Dew are only available at Taco Bell. The Dew is the thing. As youth workers, it's our common ground, our starting point.

We may approach the Dew differently. The Dew may affect each of us in different ways. We may not share our Dew the way we should, or we may fervently preach the benefits of the Dew to our charges, but one thing's for sure: it's all about the Dew.

Seven years ago, a new church-planting pastor met a struggling graduate student who was looking for a place to live. Today this senior pastor and youth minister are friends, colleagues, coworkers, and, most importantly, companions in ministry.

Though the graduate student had recently been licensed to the ministry, he wasn't looking for a job. He was looking for an historic home to caretake, in lieu of paying rent and utilities; that would be just enough, he'd calculated, to make his stipend cover expenses and let him focus all his energies on getting a Ph.D. in Education and Human Development. In search of such a home, he sent letters to everyone he could think of, including the local historical preservation society.

The young Presbyterian Church was in the process of seeking a new choir director, and the founding pastor of that church outside Nashville had also been on the lookout for someone who'd make a good youth minister. As a former Young Life leader and church youth minister himself, he understood the impact a youth worker could have on the life of the church.

As these things often happen, the president of the historical society had a teenager at this church…and she served on the church's personnel committee. The graduate student's letter referenced the student's experience leading church choirs. So, when she received the letter, she passed it on to the pastor, who called the graduate student—who, since he'd found no historic home (or any other kind) to live in, was open to almost anything.

The graduate student went to meet with the pastor, thinking they'd discuss a position as Minister of Music, a role he'd served in two previous churches. When the pastor started talking about youth ministry, the student was horrified. After all, youth ministers worked too hard, had weird hours, got far too little prestige, and didn't get paid well! There was no way! The pastor, however, recognized someone with great youth leadership potential, so he offered him the job as choir director combined with “some” youth ministry responsibilities. The student accepted the challenge, and a new friendship was formed. It seemed that they'd work well together.

And they've been doing it ever since.

Companions

According to Mark 3:13-19, many, many people were surrounding Jesus, wanting to be a part of whatever it was he had to offer. Among the throng, Jesus chose 12. He called them to heal the sick and preach the gospel, but, first and foremost, he called them to be his companions in ministry.

When we first thought of writing an article about how well we work together, we thought about a dialogue approach or even a debate. Maybe the senior pastor would write a “what all senior pastors should know about their Youth Ministers,” and vice-versa. As we wrestled with our structure, we continued to return to this notion of companions in ministry. It's an accurate image of what we've experienced together and a good model for staff relationships in the church.

Because we approach our ministry in partnership, we approached this article the same way. We decided to write the entire article together in order to model our work. We've both heard the nightmare stories about staff relationships in churches (and have some experience in being parts of dysfunctional staffs ourselves). Most of those negative experiences seem to result from churches developing business models, instead of biblical models, for their staffs. But it's the model of companions in ministry that seems the most appropriate for staff relationships.

Ultimately, we get along so well together for that very reason—because we're companions in ministry. And because we get along well, working together is enjoyable. In the seven years we've worked together, we've had plenty of difficulties in our church environment; but our interpersonal relationship has held fast—something that's been a saving grace in times that might have caused a great deal of conflict in other staff situations.

When conflict has arisen, we've problem-solved together. As our relationship has grown, we've found a bedrock of mutuality that undergirds everything we do. Mutual trust, mutual respect, and mutual appreciation are evident in all of our interactions.

Mutual Trust

Trust is the cornerstone of any relationship. When one friend trusts another friend, she'll go out of her way to build up and encourage; she'll give her friend the benefit of the doubt; and she'll do her best to be trustworthy in return. When we trust God, we're less anxious about the unknowns in our lives; and we long to live worthy lives in response to God's trust in us.

The youth pastor/senior pastor relationship is no different. When we trust each other, we edify one another. We show appreciation to each other—in private and in public. We don't criticize each other behind the other's back—the emotional equivalent of marital infidelity. Trust is built on being committed to each other and standing by that.

We spend some non-work time together. We don't buy into the notion that personal lives and work lives need to be kept separate and compartmentalized. We realize that, even though we have different roles in the church, fundamentally we're just two people trying to be disciples of Jesus Christ. Spending time together outside of the church leads to a much greater level of trust, and we're convinced that this is much closer to the model of Jesus and his disciples than the corporate approach many churches take.

Because of this continually deepening trust, we also share information. Communication between companions in ministry is vital. It's important that the senior pastor never be blindsided by something that's gone awry (of course, we know nothing ever goes awry when it comes to youth!). The youth pastor needs to let him know upfront rather than wait for him to find out from someone else. If he has already been informed from the youth pastor, when it comes to him from another source he doesn't look ignorant of what's going on. When the pastor sees the youth pastor about to stick his foot in quicksand with the elder board or parents (and we know that never happens either—just theoretically speaking, you understand), the youth pastor will appreciate hearing about it ahead of time. Perhaps it can keep him from having to dig himself out of a hole that he could've avoided.

Mutual Respect

The key to a healthy spiritual life is humility. And the key to long-term successful ministry is to never get to the point where you think you know everything. Or think that just because you're the boss, that means you are in charge. The only one in charge of the church laid down his life for her.

One of the most magnificent things about working with adolescents is their irreverence for worn-out traditions and structures and their passion to create identities and traditions of their own. Many youth workers choose the profession because they share some of that irreverence, and it's important not to allow these tendencies to create an Us vs. Them environment.

Since the fundamental question of adolescence is one of identity, it often is manifested not only as “Who am I?” but “Who am I apart from you?” This has to be resolved before significant interchange can take place. Since a certain part of youth is, “I am me, not you,” we hear things like, “We want worship that's meaningful to us!” Part of that is just generational, wanting a separate identity, but youth ministers should be careful not to slip into “our way is good; theirs is bad.” That kind of attitude can have large institutional implications.

As much as possible, we integrate our youth ministry into the life of the church-at-large. In addition to keeping the body of Christ whole, this wins points with parents, fosters intergenerational relationships, makes it easier to get adult volunteers, and makes everyone feel better about the youth ministry in general (which, incidentally, adds job security). Just as the goal of mature adulthood is not complete independence but healthy interdependence, the goal of youth ministry is a healthy interdependence within the community of faith. A freestanding, teen-only environment leaves no one to usher young people into adulthood.

Youth pastors need to help kids understand that they're not autonomous. Many bring parents along, and the senior pastor deals with them. So free-flowing communication about what kids need and what their parents need is vital. At its best, youth ministry should provide parents with a safe place where they can begin to let go of their children without dropping them into nothingness. They can let them go within an environment where adults share their core convictions. A senior pastor who trusts and respects the youth minister and who has all necessary information can significantly aid parents in this part of their journey.

Mutual Appreciation

We're one body with many parts. Any time we begin to devalue the work of another part, we're setting ourselves up for failure. No body can fully function without the parts doing what each is specifically called to do.

One of the quickest ways to hamstring a good youth minister is for the pastor to micromanage. A better choice is to hire a good person—one the pastor can trust and respect—then, leave him alone and let him do his job. If he's micromanaged, he may stay out of trouble with the pastor, but he'll likely be ineffective with the kids. If the pastor is spending all of her time checking up on the youth minister, she's probably not doing what she needs to do, either.

More than any other position in the church, youth ministers are outside the box. They don't just act a little outside the box; they often live way outside the box—which is why kids are drawn to them. That's actually a spiritual gifting. But, many youth workers like to constantly rebel—going against the grain, swimming against the flow. Such metaphors are best left for Christians struggling to counteract worldly influences, not dealings with your senior pastor.

One reason that we've gotten along so well is that we each know the other has valuable insight into the lives of people and situations in our congregation that we do not. We each see from a different perspective simply because of where we're standing. We're able to share our insights freely, appreciating the different perspective the other brings.

We also trust that God has called each of us to our specific areas of ministry, which means that the youth pastor cannot do the senior minister's job as well as he can, and vice-versa. It's simply not our place to tell the other one how to execute his call.</span>

Along with trusting God's call, we find power in praying for one another. Continually lifting up your ministry companion in prayer connects people in ways nothing else can.

It's important for the youth minister not to assume that youth ministry is the only thing going on; there's other important work happening in the church. We need to share creative ideas, insights, and resources—which may mean we spend a lot of time helping the children's ministry look good, and no one sees the fruit directly for the teens. That's good biblical servanthood, because we're not worrying about who gets the credit.

That founding pastor of East Brentwood Presbyterian Church is still the Senior Pastor, and that graduate student is still their Director of Youth Ministries. He hasn't yet finished that Ph.D., because he found God's calling in youth ministry. They're still great friends and still enjoy working together.

Jesus' disciples ultimately went out to do ministry in twos. We like that image. We're pretty sure God doesn't intend for us to be Lone Rangers out there, because that's not how we function best. We function best through trusting, respecting, and appreciating each other. We function best as companions in ministry. And come to think of it, even the Lone Ranger had Tonto, didn't he?

“Herding cats!” It's a phrase we use around the office to describe the difficult job of leading a group of people who are bent on living out their views, separately and independently. Leadership of this group can disintegrate in a heartbeat—and so it is with many staff teams. And so it is with many staff teams and relations. It doesn't have to be this way. We'd like to offer a recipe for moving from individualism toward a sense of family.

Our leadership team, consisting of a European Director and three Regional Directors, serves staff people in 25 military communities across Europe. We get to pray, strategize, philosophize, problem solve, and share our lives and families together.

So when the topic of staff relations surfaced, we sauntered across the hall to each other's offices and began a dialog about writing this together as a staff team. What resulted were separate but intertwined ideas based on our personal and shared experiences centering on three key aspects of staff relations: servant leadership, effective communication, and healthy community.

Servant Leadership

David Martin

At the San Diego Marine Corps Recruit Depot, my drill instructor (the largest, meanest man I'd ever met) had as his goal to make my life miserable. He was extremely successful. My goal was to do everything in my feeble power to please this man. I was extremely unsuccessful. However, this experience would help develop my life-long philosophy of leadership.

1. Lead by example. Great leaders always lead from the front. They don't seek credit or long for the spotlight, but they are the example to follow. I learned quickly never to ask someone to do something that I was unwilling to do. Unconditional love is learned by example. Grace and forgiveness are learned by example. Jesus led from the front, and so should we.

2. Lead by sacrifice. Few things will inspire greater loyalty and unity than sacrifice. There's no better place to practice putting the needs of others before your own than in the world of ministry. When we go to camp with kids, if we are one bed short, who sleeps on the floor? I do. If there isn't enough to go around, who goes without? I do. Few of us will ever be called to the kind of sacrifice Jesus made on the cross, but we're all called to put others first.

John Cullipher

People are much more important than programs. Too many times leaders are so focused on the mission that they forget to serve those around them who make the mission possible. Leaders do well to honor, develop, and empower their staffs by serving them. Take some time to figure out ways to encourage, reward, and highlight each person, not just the job. If we really care about the person more than the program, that person's personal and professional growth will be a high priority. A staff with this kind of emphasis will stick together and reach a new depth as people are challenged to grow, personally and professionally.

If people are recognized and encouraged to continue a pattern of growth, they'll feel equipped to do the mission with a true sense of ownership. Jesus told his followers that they wouldn't be alone— he'd continue to be with them through the Holy Spirit. Caring for the growth and empowerment of our staff builds an unshakable foundation for ministry.

Dave Sanders

I find some powerful lessons on servant leadership from movies. The incredible scene from Gladiator when the armor-clad individuals first become a fighting unit begins when Maximus calls them to follow him in a plan against the superior charioteers storming into the arena. He commands, “Come together, we live!” In a split second, they must decide whether to trust him or not. Trust is essential for a team. Those who trust form a team that, against the odds, destroys the opposition; those who fight alone, die. Servant leaders must develop trust. They must protect their people.

A leadership position also demands the responsibility to stand in the gap for other staff or volunteers. As William Wallace in Braveheart leaves the nobles squabbling about royal positioning, he turns and scathes them with, “There's a difference between you and me. You think the people exist to give you possessions. I think your possessions exist to give the people their freedom.” Many a day around our office, we claim to be strapping on the flak jacket in order to go do battle on behalf of our staff. Jesus inverted the pyramid of leadership; servant leadership takes us to the bottom point and gives us the most privileged position—one from which we can serve others and effect change on their behalf.

Also, leadership and authority are not the same. Authority is conferred; leadership is recognized. In The Last Castle, the commandant of the military prison has all of the authority to operate his prison as he sees fit. He's unscrupulous and cruel. He's not a leader, but he has all of the conferred power. Robert Redford plays a three-star general whose tactical mistake led to court martial and prison. With no rank and no power, he wins the respect of the men in the prison by instilling them with self-worth and pride. He possesses leadership, even when all authority has been stripped away. You don't have to be the senior pastor to be a leader. Servant leadership is charaterized by God's activity in your life and how you treat people. We can be servant-leaders whether we have the authority or not.

Effective Communication

David Martin

Communication can be my best friend or my worst enemy. Here are a few principles that'll bring your communication ability out from behind enemy lines, so you can connect with the people around you.

1. The art of listening. Almost all college graduates take a speech class at some point, but I've yet to meet one who's taken a class in listening. None of us likes to share our innermost feelings with someone who isn't listening. Listening takes concentration and eye contact. Listening to people makes them feel important. It conveys a sense of care and concern. To insure you're listening, communicate back what you've heard. This helps you concentrate and gives confidence to others.

2. The sense of sensitivity. If you ever met me, you probably wouldn't think I looked like the most sensitive guy in the world. You might think I'm a professional wrestler. But contrary to first impressions, I'm more sensitive than an exposed nerve. I'm not referring to my own fragility; I'm talking about an ability to perceive the feelings of others. This hasn't come easily, and I've learned a few lessons the hard way. Being sensitive means that we don't ask questions that shouldn't be asked and we don't push beyond the line of trust. It's important to be aware of people's body language, tone of voice, and facial expressions. We must always seek to understand the emotional state of those around us if we ever want to communicate effectively.

3. Clarity is king. Misunderstandings can be the bane of any team or family. Often we feel like we've communicated our message when nothing could be further from the truth. Repetition aids clarity. As you work with a team, state and restate your ideas. If your audience doesn't understand your message, then everyone has wasted valuable time.

John Cullipher

Communication that lacks honesty will tear down the spirit of a staff. When the staff has to take a second (or third) look to see if they can depend on what's been said, they'll not want to stay very long. Times get tough enough without having to question the leader's honesty. The biblical challenge is to let our yes be yes, and our no be no. When we always speak with integrity, we strengthen our staff; it's freeing being able to trust what's said within a team.

This doesn't mean that we need to fire away whenever we feel like it. Timing and delivery are also quite important. Too many times we have no idea what's going on in the lives of those around us, and we have a “ready, fire,aim” mentality. You can be right on target in what you are trying to say, but if your timing and delivery are off, it'll discount what you're trying to say.

I can't begin to count how many times I've said to myself, “I sure wish I'd said that differently.” Being misunderstood seems to come with leadership, but pausing to consider how best to say what we're about to say can save a lot of pain.

We miss so many opportunities to build or mend bridges. Paul challenges us not to let the sun go down before we make the necessary connections with others. He speaks in terms of anger, but this also applies to praise as well.

Dave Sanders

In the beginning, God walked with man and woman, and they talked and hung out. They communicated in the purest fashion—with body, soul, and spirit. Effective communication for us is an ever-present desire and need to get back to that. Within a staff team there are multiple communication styles, some open and some closed; but effective communication is far more than just speaking to each other. The ultimate communication is shared lives and experiences interpreted together. Respecting the image of God in each individual is key.

Conflict and confrontation are natural and necessary. I've learned that my style is to come at adversity from the side in order to minimize the damage. This is a strength of mine; and it's a weakness, especially when it comes to confrontation in relationships. Delay in confrontation can be a seedbed for bitterness and isolation. With isolation, relationships die. Effective communication finds healthy ways to confront, but confront it must. Communication is also a two-way street. My 15 year-old daughter and I spent an hour and a half yesterday agreeing on breaking patterns that have developed in our communication style. I don't listen because I'm crafting my argumentative response; so she shuts down; so I demand her attention through eye contact; so she glares at me with a defiant focus and clenched jaw—and so on the pattern goes. The feelings and longings and underlying issues of a 15 year-old girl are all there, but I want to be right in crafting the argument. So I'm trying to rebuild effective communication by establishing a two-way street.

Communication happens best face to face. E-mail is for information, not communication. Effective communicators will sit face to face with folks, because there are a zillion different ways we communicate with others beyond words alone.

Effective communication is the bridge between the heart of the leader and the hearts of the people. Without it, the team is stagnant and progress halts. Jesus grafted his heart to the hearts of the people by speaking in parables, preaching with power, and teaching with authority. He listened; he wept; I bet he laughed, too. Effective communication holds people together and shapes them into a team. Without it, you'll find yourself trying to herd a flock of cats.

Healthy Community

Community is the reward of hard relational work fueled by biblical principles. Healthy community is essential but so easy to avoid. Spiritually and relationally, by the time you realize that you need community, you're already in a dangerous place. As Christian leaders, we must never allow the enemy to isolate us from healthy community.

David Martin

People long for community, yet few enjoy its full potential. Healthy community means healthy relationships, which take time. Discovering the oasis of a healthy community takes work and effort most people are hesitant to give. Here are a couple of principles that have helped me build healthy community.

1. Give our lives away. This sounds a little scary at first, but the payoff is huge. Often we attempt to build community, but we aren't willing to pay the price. If it's uncomfortable, we come to a screeching halt. We need to open up our homes to others on our team, share meals together, and give our time and resources to them. We should ask hard questions when the opportunities arise, and we should answer hard questions, as well. When we give our lives away, healthy community is just around the corner.

2. Be vulnerable. Without it, intimacy is beyond our grasp. Vulnerability is the ability to open up and expose the darkness of our hearts, which prompts others to do the same. It's risky and painful. But the benefit is a healthy community of life-time friends. This level of intimate friendship is to be treasured and honored.

John Cullipher

Real community happens when the staff feels heard, cared for, and included in the greater mission of the team. A healthy family will weep and rejoice with each other. A staff that's given time for this will be empowered to care for each other. A staff that understands and owns the vision and mission of the team will be more excited about its accomplishment. When leaders establish an environment in which people are encouraged to invest in each other as a part of something bigger than themselves, good things happen for the Kingdom.

Romans 12 challenges us to weep and rejoice with others. The mission is important, but people are more important. With MCYM, we're intentional about taking time to welcome new staff arrivals, making them feel welcomed and special. We do the same for staff members who leave us. We take time to mourn and celebrate with each other, and it's common to hear our staff refer to us as a family.

A timely word of care or concern builds a great team. It not only shows we care, but also that we're watching and sensitive to what's happening within each other's lives. It also encourages the staff members to express this kind of support for those under their care.

If every team member understands his or her part of the mission, and catches the vision that what's done today will affect tomorrow, then we experience inclusion and ownership. It's not just the leader's mission; it's our mission. To feel that sense of ownership will free the family to be their best and allow them to really enjoy the ride.

Dave Sanders

What we do isn't as important as who we do it with. I'd rather dig a ditch with a team of close and trusted friends than be a powerful CEO of a corporation with no close relationships and an untrusting board of directors. In my current role, I get to do my work with my good buddies who love me, know me, and kick me in the butt when I need it. We laugh together, cry together, and fall on our knees to pray together. The people God brings into our lives are gifts to us.

but the team executes the play. Healthy community is about two things: coming together for the huddle, and breaking the huddle to go to the line and run the play together. The implied meaning behind koinonia(the Greek New Testament word to describe the early Christian community) is to come together in fellowship for a purpose. Everyone is free to discuss the idea on the table. We bat it around, disagree, reshape it, or squash it altogether. The process is open because we trust each other and pull together in the huddle. But once we decide the play, everybody breaks to execute that play. Dissension, disagreement, and lack of cooperation are death to healthy community.

Also, ministry is overflow. The more I read John 15, the more I'm convinced that ministry isn't something we do; it's an overflow of our very lives. Healthy community encourages and stimulates our connection to the Vine, and when we stay connected to the Vine, we see fruit.

In the deepest sense, family is much more than a biological unit. In fact, the closest families may have no biological connection at all. As fellow saints and priests, we're a part of the Family of God. Long ago, the Creator took people and breathed life into them. The essence of God exists in each of us. We're not about existing together or working together; we must live together. Really live…to the fullest…every day and every moment.

The journey begins with Jesus. We must recognize this first, and then we can seek to become servant leaders and effective communicators. With time, patience, and some pain, we'll discover healthy community. It's not easy, but it's possible for you and your team—and definitely worth the effort.

When was the last time you weren't assaulted by the relational ministry mantra at a youth worker training event? “I believe in ministering through relationships. I believe those relationships earn me the right to speak…” and so on. It makes me a little queasy to think about all the junk that gets tossed our way in the name of “relational ministry.”

Who in the world decided that youth ministry is all about hanging out at Taco Bell with a bunch of teenagers? Is that what it's about, really? Well, what do the kids have after they leave Taco Bell? A relationship with you? Great; I'm sure that'll help a lot when they go off to college or to get a job.

It's no wonder the latest stats that my state convention guys throw at me say 88% of Christian teens don't practice their faiths in college. A relationship with you may be fun and positive, but (I hate to burst your bubble) you aren't that great. Did you think that they'd stay virgins because you hung out with them? Did you think they wouldn't smoke because you goofed off in their presence? Did you think that they wouldn't drink or do drugs because you had lunch with them once a week, off and on, for six years?

Now it may surprise you, but I'm all about a relational youth ministry. I'm for modeling the Christian struggle in front of teens. I'm not, however, for hanging out with kids 24/7 and calling it youth ministry. That's not youth ministry; it's egocentrism. There's one who has the power to change lives on an eternal level, and none of us fit the bill. We're temporal. We effect temporary change at best. Our relationships must serve to connect kids to God so they can stand on their own. Otherwise, it's a waste of time.

Actually, it's worse than a waste of time. Hanging out with kids all the time can cripple them. They don't learn to stand on their own. They become dependant on you to constantly encourage, remind, and rebuke. Unfortunately, you won't always be there. That's why 88% drop out of the church lifestyle when they move away.

All this is aside from the toll it takes on you and your family. How long will you be able to spend all your time with other people's kids before your family disintegrates?

I'm not saying everyone who has a family needs another job. We're just often so bad at balancing everything. We should use relationships, but they're means to an end; they're not an end unto themselves. So, I'd like to address five myths that lead us all down the crimson path in the name of “relational ministry.” They need correction. Debunking. Redefining. Something.

Myth #1: You have to spend all of your free time wherever the kids are hanging out.

This is idolatry; it's the worship of teenagers. You orient your life around them in such a way that they don't need to invest in the relationship—you do all of that. What do they have to do? They go to Sonic and sit on the tailgates and wait for you to show up and relate. Not only isn't it doing much for them (they'll be there whether you're there or not), it's not healthy for you and your family.

I used to believe in this idea that “we must go find them and hang out with them and be there for them and spend our time with them.” Then one fine, midweek day, I went on a youth worker's retreat and Helen Musick was our guest speaker. I piously whined about a couple— youth workers in my church—that just didn't “get it.” They actually wouldn't hang out with teenagers all the time to build relationships. They said they didn't have time to follow other people's kids around; they had kids of their own.

God can use public humiliation, don't you think? Helen kindly looked at me and told me, in effect, that my expectations of them were out of bounds. She told me her own schedule and asked where I thought she should work in hanging out with teenagers. I opened and shut my mouth a few times.

Helen said that instead of following around the kids in her youth group, she invites certain ones to follow her. She told the story of a girl who she took grocery shopping whenever she had to go. Her kids are watched, she has a little help, and she spends some solid time dealing with this girl and her life.

Investment of time is a mutual thing. You have a life, and generally speaking, they don't. So bring 'em along where you're going. You're bound to be better at showing them how to be a strong Christian when you're at the sick bed of an elderly church member than you ever could on the back of a tailgate.

Myth #2: You have to relate to every kid.

Have you ever noticed that youth groups start looking like their youth ministers? The activities we like, Bible Studies, even our senses of humor attract kids who are like us. Pretty soon, all the kids who don't like that stuff (our stuff) are on the sidelines—or in another church.

We don't have to be the center of the youth ministry. In fact, it's far healthier if we aren't. We must set up a ministry that has a niche for every student by recruiting and training adults who are as different from us as can be. If our youth ministries are to be diverse, the leadership must also be diverse. And we need to lead the charge. Go find an adult who doesn't worry about being cool, maybe a numbers cruncher. Look on that person with God's perspective and see the treasure God sees. Invite him or her to come and lead in your church's youth ministry. He or she can then reach out to all the teenaged number crunchers and kids who just don't quite fit in.

Myth #3: Relational ministry is better in a smaller, rural setting than in a large, urban one.

Again, this has to do with you being the center of the youth ministry. Relational ministry is just easier for one person to do in a smaller town. It's built into a community that knows everyone and what they're doing. In a town of 10,000, you can go to the high school's football game with your family and see your whole youth group: one third on the team, one third in the band or cheerleading, and the rest in the stands. In an urban setting, you may commuhave seven, eight, or more high schools playing every Friday night. And they play all over town; it'd be impossible for you to see them all.

The key for urban ministries is to diversify your leadership (see myth/truth #2). Let your leaders hang with the ones with whom they're close. Sunday school and small group leaders tend to the kids in their classes and groups. Urban lifestyle almost begs for a come and go ministry in which kids can blend into the crowd and disappear from the radar screen. They still need a personal touch. Just because it's impossible for you to do it alone doesn't mean it shouldn't be done. You just need to plan ahead and make sure that everyone on your team is in the game. Wouldn't everyone like a little help with the groceries?

And those in rural towns? Go back to myth/truth #2 and diversify. It's good for your ministry even if you don't feel like you have to do it.

Myth #4: Being transparent means telling everything about your past/current experiences.

Have you ever sat and watched as a teenager humiliated himself by telling absolutely everything he's ever done as he “shared his testimony?” Being open and honest within your youth group is one thing, but this goes way over the line. Where do you think they got the idea that public, self-flagellation was what they were supposed to do? Do you think they do it for attention? Many do. Could it be that they've seen that attention-seeking behavior in us?

The fact is that teenagers aren't equipped to separate the “you” of ten years ago from the “you” you've become. Saying that you've struggled with “how far is too far” in dating relationships is something with which they can identify. Telling them how many people you slept with in high school, even if you weren't a Christian at the time, is too vivid a picture just to make a point.

It glorifies the flesh. C'mon, the real reason most people do anything like that is so the teenagers will judge them according to their very worldly value system. That's just warped. It says a lot about you that you probably don't want said. Do you want to be seen as one who jumps through hoops of teenaged-defined “cool” in hopes of being accepted? It's immature and shallow to do that as a teenager, but that's part of who teenagers are. As a leader, they need far better from you.

Myth #5: The kid who doesn't have a deep relationship with you won't listen to what you have to say—especially on touchy subjects.

A deep relationship does earn you the right to speak to your teenagers about sensitive subjects, but let's get practical. No one really expects you to have a deep relationship with every teenager—even (and maybe especially) the teenagers. Let's say you have 60 kids in and around your youth group. If you spend 15 minutes per week with each teenager, you haven't done much to deepen that relationship beyond its basic level. Yet it would take you 15 hours a week to accomplish that task. Where does anyone get that kind of extra time? No one should expect you to actually do that.

Really, it's not the super-duper deep relationships that qualify you to speak to your kids. It's what that relationship produces: respect, a sense of safety, and a realization that you care for them and want what's best for them. If they believe that, they'll listen. That's true whether their relationship with you is long and deep, or just beginning.

I'm all about relationships with teenagers. My youth group has been known to hang out at my house until we run them off. I often have kids come hang out in my office and talk for thirty minutes. But I'm tired of following the chanting cult—the cult whose mantra is that I should give away all of my (and my family's) time, energy, and respect in the name of youth ministry. That mantra says that I should be the center of all of those relationships. That mantra presupposes that my presence would change for eternity the lives of each member of my youth group. That's God's job and only God can accomplish it. It's a sin for us to try.

This guru of the modern media does more than generate academic and biblical analyses of popular culture. He positively revels in the profusion of Bible-teaching aids he finds at Blockbuster and in Rolling Stone, on MTV and on “Home Improvement.” Here's how to recruit pop culture to fortify your Bible teaching.

I was once baptized by fire into the world of youth ministry. I still carry scars from the flames. It happened in front of about 4,000 youths representing every major denomination.

My subject was MTV, the scourge of Christian parents. I had prepared by reading practically everything ever written about the rock-video channel. I had composed a wonderful lecture, peppered with many telling video clips. But when I walked onto the stage before that skeptical adolescent multitude, they decided to have a little fun with this professor type trying to talk to them. They got feisty, hooting at me with jeers, howls, and catcalls. I think I remember some pennies flying my way, too.

My carefully laid plans begat only an unexpected baptism, which shook me up enough that I did a pretty poor job of the lecture.

There are two kinds of education, humorist George Ade once wrote. First is the schooling that takes place in classrooms–the stuff of textbooks, lesson plans, blackboards, and desks. I have a doctorate in this kind of education.

Then there is real education, the hard knocks that may or may not force some sense into our dense brains and hard hearts. Many of us know how to teach formal lessons (or how to formally teach lessons), but not how to teach informally the real material of the Christian life in contemporary culture. Sometimes secular flicks do it better than we do.

Relational ministries rightly try to break through formalities by meeting youths on their own terms. But what about curriculum? Can we have both our relationships and our classroom lessons–the two kinds of education? Are they really compatible? One of the keys is using pop culture. Here are my ten commandments for integrating pop culture into curriculum.

COMMANDMENT 1
Use stories.

I am absolutely convinced that stories are the most potent form of human communication. We can teach more with stories, and do it more effectively, than we can with any other single type of instruction. Narrative both entertains and instructs–if it's used wisely.

The tendency in some circles is to create impressionistic, non-narrative, youth ministry materials. This is a big mistake. MTV-styled productions can capture youth's attention, but they essentially have nothing to say, only evocative images and catchy music. Even if we don't want to turn youths off by using overly pedantic materials, do we really have to skip the message for the mood?

Youth curricula offer two major possibilities for storytelling in relation to pop culture. First, popular narratives are loaded with fertile illustrations for communicating biblical truth. We find on TV, in movies, and in popular fiction virtually all the icons of contemporary pop culture–beauty, success, popularity, status–as well as the problems created by these icons–miscommunication, guilt, peer pressure, loneliness, anxiety. How can we not use in curricula the popular tales which depict the actual values and beliefs of each generation? These tales are our parables, just waiting for biblical interpretation.

Furthermore, we can tell the stories of human interaction with pop culture. This is admittedly more difficult and far more risky. But the truth is that pop culture doesn't exist “out there”; it pervades the daily lives of many youths and a surprising number of adults. All of us have our pop-culture tales of victory and defeat–our stories of how the media work…and how the media work us over. When we share these tales, we listen and learn. There are great and awful concerts, terrific and terrible flicks, underrated and overrated TV shows, and humbling as well as humiliating trips back to the video shop to return a turkey. Most pop culture is storytelling. Our own lives are often parables of our dealings with that pop culture. Wise is the youth minister who creatively applies the story of Christ's redemption to both pop tales and life tales.

COMMANDMENT 2
Use first-person stories.

Nothing teaches more effectively than a true-life tale of one who has already lived the truth. When knowledge and truth are personally experienced, they can become wisdom. We ignore this pedagogical truth at our own peril.

One of my favorite scriptwriters and novelists, Jean Shepherd, says that the purpose of his storytelling is to help audiences realize that “they, too, have lived.” By casting his films (e.g., A Christmas Story and It Runs in the Family) and novels (e.g., In God We Trust: All Others Pay Cash and Wanda Hickey's Night of Golden Memories: And Other Disasters) in first-person narratives, he creates a dynamic relationship between the main character and the audience. In effect, he “teaches” people about themselves by inviting them to share in the stories of his “own” childhood. This kind of parabolic, empathetic, vicarious storytelling is usually much more effective when it's accomplished as a personal, first-person journey through life.

The alternative to storytelling is to objectify and formalize biblical truth as knowledge external to anyone's experience, as truth that belongs to the institutional church or only to God, not to the people of God. Most textbooks do this, which is largely why I have nearly replaced all texts (except Scripture) with trade books, novels, guest speakers and the like.

Unless youths see that knowledge and wisdom come in and through experience, they are likely to write off their teachers (and parents and pastors) as purveyors of irrelevant information. On the other hand, when biblical truth of all kinds (doctrinal, theological, practical) is linked to personal experience, it becomes relevant, useful, and meaningful. Successful youth ministry invariably depends on the informed self-disclosure of the leader, just as parenting requires personal mentoring by experience.

Our experience of popular culture, then, is critical to our teaching about it. We have to be able to convince youths that we, too, have lived (and are living) in pop culture. And we have to be reflective enough about pop culture that we can bring some biblically informed truths to bear on it. As Parker Palmer argues in To Know As We Are Known, even the most biblically informed knowledge is best taught in the context of personal relationship between mentor and student, not in the relationally sterile context of formal, objectivistic schooling.

COMMANDMENT 3
Practice authenticity.

Pop culture changes so rapidly that we can easily get caught in a state of nearly total ignorance. One response is to feign more knowledge than we have. Another is to pretend to be “into it” more than we really are.

There are honest ways to deal with our own ignorance of contemporary pop culture, as I will explain shortly. But nothing is gained by a lack of personal authenticity–at least not in the long run. Even if we have no tales of our own interaction with pop culture, we can empathize with youths by listening to their tales from the land of pop culture.

COMMANDMENT 4
Avoid relevancy for the sake of relevancy.

I get frequent phone calls and unexpected visits from school teachers and youth workers who want a crash course in contemporary youth culture. After I tell them that this can't really be done, they look dejected and even a bit fearful. So is there an alternative to being culturally relevant?

From a youth ministry perspective, the only “relevant” pop culture is that which captures the universal experiences of youths. For me, this can be reduced primarily to two questions: How are youths using pop culture to 1) form an identity, and 2) to learn how to achieve intimacy with others?

Our job, then, is not to stay on top of everything happening in youth culture (God forbid, or we'd all die of exhaustion), but to try to keep our fingers on the most popular and most significant trends, movements, and artifacts. Who or what's hot–and most importantly, why?

The next step–and this separates the serious youth worker from the occasional interloper from adult culture–is to locate the parallel culture from one's own youth. Youth culture changes in style and degree, but not in real function. It has always addressed, for example, sexual practices and gender roles, even if the specific sexual messages change.

I have found that youths respond much more openly and directly to me when, instead of trying to speak somewhat ignorantly to their particular pop culture, I address the universal aspects of youth from the genuine vantage point of my own youth. Of all of the things I've learned about youth curricula, this is to me the most important–because it frees me to be authentic, it encourages me to tell personal narratives, and it nearly guarantees real relevancy.

By avoiding trivial relevance, we can recontextualize the universal qualities of youth culture as expressed in any currently fashionable form. We don't have to be up on everything happening, as long as we are aware of the major trends, and as long as we are able to tell our own tales of youth in a way that will resonate with the youths of today. After all, we, too, lived it–and survived!

COMMANDMENT 5
Balance media and personal communication.

Some of the pre-packaged, mass-mediated formulas for youth ministry are misused by youth workers who ought to know better. Human orality (speaking and listening, in person) is fundamental to our humanness as created by God. All other media, including the written word and recorded media, are secondary. The best curricula carefully balance orality with nonpersonal media.

In other words, I disagree with the intellectual eggheads who think that all mass media are evil, corrupt, or trivial, or with the naive progressives who think that media will be the salvation for burned-out youth workers. The truth is that media alone are not nearly as effective as a mix of personal communication (e.g., group discussion and personal mentoring) and media (e.g., video, audio, magazine, book). Moreover, the newer technologies, such as laserdiscs and CD-ROMs, are remarkably easy to use, can be adapted to many different curricula and teaching styles, and can truly help to motivate as well as to illustrate. Let's not let even the best pop culture overtake our curricula.

COMMANDMENT 6
Avoid media frenzy.

The biggest drawback to using media in any type of curriculum is a lack of time for discussion and critical reflection. When my wife and I began work on The Best Family Videos: For the Discriminating Viewer (Augsburg), we consulted various youth leaders to determine how a video-movie guide might be most helpful to them. The good news was that we could easily include the suggested list of discussion topics for each movie. The bad news was that many youth leaders didn't have time to view and discuss an entire feature movie, even if the youths were viewing scads of flicks with friends.

The result is that some youth workers have a tendency to try to cram too much media product into the curriculum. A little music here, video there, a magazine or two and–whoops!–where'd the time go? Where'd the ministry go? This type of need-induced media frenzy is big on the bun and short on the beef.

COMMANDMENT 7
Use drama.

I don't mean that we should use all kinds of histrionics, or that we should over-dramatize our presentations. I do mean that curricula should follow essentially the narrative form of drama:

1. Introduce the characters and setting.
2. Develop the conflict in the plot.
3. Resolve the conflict and offer a lesson, which we hope will be internalized and lived.

Although we usually plan the curriculum backwards (i.e., the lesson is the goal), we present it as drama.

For example, suppose you want to teach a unit on this theme: Do everything to the glory of God. Your goal is to move as many youths as possible to live their whole lives to the glory of God. Okay, what are the roadblocks–the conflicts–to such living? Perhaps one is inadequate time in prayer and Bible study. Perhaps another is the various things which youths glorify instead of God (personal popularity, material goods, money). Next, who are the characters in this “drama” (media, God, Satan, parents, teachers, youth workers, peers).

In fact, I can imagine an entire unit organized around Paul's discussion of freedom in Christ at the end of 1 Corinthians 10. Add some current pop-culture illustrations and personal storytelling about how pop culture shapes who and what we glorify, and you've got a dramatic curriculum.

COMMANDMENT 8
Use a positive approach.

Positive approaches usually have a more lasting impact than do negative ones, especially fear appeals. When I wrote and produced Winning Your Kids Back from the Media (InterVarsity Press; video series with Gospel Films), I struggled with this issue. After all, much media content is negative. Yet I didn't want to harp on the negatives, but rather to lead parents to the positive benefits of more relational time in their families. Christians always have a positive alternative to negative habits, lifestyles, attitudes, and the like. Philippians 4:8 expresses this spirit of longing for the good.

Consider the implications for pop culture in the curriculum. Do we use good as well as bad examples in our critique? Do we offer positive alternatives to negative music, movies, and other media? Do we create the impression that pop culture is redeemable? Do we even acknowledge the fun, joy, and good cheer that youths can derive from the better pop culture? Is our mood in presentation and discussion of pop culture condescending or even elitist? You see, I hope, that the Christian community has much work to do in positively reclaiming pop culture for Christ.

When I coordinated the work that led to the book Dancing in the Dark, I faced this problem. One of the Dancing coauthors organized pizza focus groups with youths, and in his reports of these fact-finding missions among teenagers I sensed fun and energy, not just mind-numbing, heart-stealing pop culture. If you read Dancing with care, I think you'll detect our desire to find a critical balance, to correct the misperceptions of many hypercritical pop-culture researchers and scholars. I believe that our sensitivity to the positive aspects of pop culture won for the book a hearing among many youth workers.

COMMANDMENT 9
Stir in plenty of humor.

Let's face it–pop culture is not entirely serious, so it makes sense for us to use it in funny ways. I'm not talking about silly presentations loaded with slapstick–the pop-culture techniques that some Christian video presentations rely on. There's a big difference between teaching childish buffoonery and treating youths like adults who are capable of seeing the comedic stupidity in some pop culture.

Pop culture is rich with humorous material that illustrates both the Fall and grace. It's hard to find better, more truly relevant examples and illustrations of the gap between the way people are and the way they should be, between our current (even laughable) condition and the shalom in which God would have us live.

Tim Taylor of the hit tv show “Home Improvement” is not just a klutz; more importantly, he is a typical North American male– he's more interested in technology and gadgets than in people…he's self-delusionary about his own abilities as a TV professional, father, and husband…he's slow to listen, but fast to offer opinion and to act…he's willing to bend the truth to save face. A discerning male viewer of the show will not only laugh, but will see himself in the character of Tim.

Pop culture offers a wide array of characters and situations which can help us to see ourselves humorously in a biblical context. To a large extent, the media accept us the way we are, and then make us even more that way by exaggerating our weaknesses, highlighting our foibles, and even spotlighting our anxieties and insecurities. When they do this with humor, the media provide rich curricular fodder that is less threatening to youths than deeply serious critiques. We need only “read” the spirituality of popular movies or evocative advertisements to see in the media mirror our tragi-comedic selves. Grimly comic case in point: the beer commercial that says, “It doesn't get much better than this.”

COMMANDMENT 10
Emphasize grace.

It's not enough merely to be positive and humorous in using pop culture. Youths can become discerning, even critical of their cultural milieu–but they also need a strong dose of the sovereignty of God even in pop culture. God's grace is the only real antidote to a hypernegative view of pop culture. We dare not leave our youths with the foolish sense that God is not Lord even of music, movie, tv and all the rest.

Where does grace appear? In the secular culture that captures glimmerings of truth by depicting agapic love, genuine forgiveness, patience, kindness, and all of the other signs of the kingdom in our midst. In music that is a well-crafted and terrifically performed, even if the lyrics are not altogether holy and healthy. In pop culture that helps us see ourselves as we really are, warts and all. In television shows or videos that effectively bring family and friends together to talk about their hurts and triumphs in life. In movies that inspire us to do our best, to challenge the prevailing culture or to go the extra mile for a friend. In Christian pop culture that rivals its secular counterparts in quality as well as in message.

All good youth curricula breathe in enough of this grace to maintain youthful hope and enthusiasm for the world of pop culture. Gifted is the youth worker who is not suffocated by unbridled, often reactionary, criticism.

I wish I had known that lesson that day I walked onto the youth-event stage to face thousands of exuberant teenagers who expected an out-of-it professor to bash their MTV. The next time I spoke to teenagers, I walked to the podium wearing a sequined glove on one hand–a small Jackson gesture of humor and grace from an adult world seemingly filled with arrogance and contempt for pop culture. The kids loved it–and so did I, for mine eyes had seen the joy as well as the evil of pop culture in a fallen world that adults ought not fear to tread.