Gwen had graduated two days before, but without even thinking she showed up at church and went through her normal routine: standing outside the high school Sunday School room, talking and laughing with a few of her friends from the youth group. When the leader called the meeting to order, she walked into the large room with the rest of the students and took her regular seat on the carpeted steps along the far wall.

At first she didn't notice anything out of the ordinary, but soon she realized that several whispered conversations were pointed in her direction. She couldn't quite understand what was going on—maybe she had said something dumb walking in—but she could tell that most of the others were kind of staring at her. Before she could piece together what was happening, the youth leader sat down next to her and said, "Gwen, you're a graduate now. You get to go into an adult class. You don't have to hang out here with these little high school kids."

Gwen was dumbstruck. How could she not have known this? It never quite occurred to her that she no longer would be welcomed in the only real Christian community she'd ever known. Her parents didn't go to church, and she had no deep relationships outside of this group, but her church wasn't set up for keeping graduates in their youth ministry program. She had to move on; and although the leaders were being nice about it, the way the program was structured she was no longer welcome. She was "finished" with youth ministry, but where should she go now?

Her friends, parents and church didn't have an answer for her.

The Underbelly of Youth Ministry

Gwen is a classic casualty of a typical but short-sighted definition of the task of youth ministry. This scenario, as obviously twisted as it is, takes place in many, if not most, churches that have an organized, structured youth ministry program. Traditionally, senior high youth ministry has been more concerned with getting kids to make an individual decision to follow Christ than where they go from there. As noble as this goal is, in many cases it has led to a generation of youth ministry orphans—involved youth group kids who, when they leave the nurture and family of their youth program, have no safe place to live out their faith.

Gwen is the daughter of good friends of mine. I care about her; so when this occurred, I knew we as a church had blown it. I confess that until that day I hadn't given much thought to what we do to our graduates. Yes, I knew and had taught for years that we in youth ministry should be preparing kids for the "real world" and to take their faith into their next phase of life (e.g., college, work); but I saw this like nearly every other youth ministry veteran—preparing our kids to move on was simply one more programmatic and curricular necessity. I'm now convinced I not only was wrong as I unwittingly cast ill-prepared students into the wilderness of individual and simplistic faith, but I had participated in systemically abandoning them to (hopefully) find for themselves the next community that felt like a fit. I realize now that even in our best programs we leave students hanging, and the Gwens of our ministries are the losers.