“Have you ever thought about doing…”
“When I was in high school, my youth pastor always…”
“You know, the church across town had a ton of kids show up to…”
“I was talking to another parent, and we think you should…”
“Has anyone told you how we used to do it around here?”
During my first years in youth ministry, the last thing I was interested in was input from other people. I did not want to know how anyone thought the program could be improved, what the guy from the church across the street was doing, or how things were when you were in youth group.
There was the children’s pastor, with her animal crackers and coloring pages; the parent who rarely brought her kids to youth group, but was convinced that roller skating really would help us bring in more students; the senior pastor, who just happened to be a rock star youth pastor back in his day (or so he remembers); the volunteer who didn’t know how to make things better, but definitely knew all the things I was doing wrong…
My defenses were up, and I was ready for battle. I knew my students. I knew my best practices. I knew what to do. I could make it happen, too, if they would just. Stop. Helping.
I’d like to say I wised up and learned to let people in; that I saw the good in them and began working toward a common goal; that I put aside my ego and built a team to help discern the next right thing for our group; that I did not stay on that path all the way to burnout.
Looking back, I can see that any suggestions, benevolent or otherwise, felt like criticism. If it was such a good idea, wouldn’t I already be doing it? Am I not smart enough to run this program? Do you think I can’t do this on my own? I resented the idea of needing help.
The problem with that attitude is that it was all about me: my abilities, my knowledge, my relationships. If someone else’s input or idea made a positive difference in the ministry, it made me look bad, right?
Wrong. Obviously.
When we put all the responsibility and pressure of youth ministry on ourselves, we start to see everyone else as the other, and the other quickly can become a threat we have to defend against. The reality is that, ideally, we are all on the same team.
The children’s pastor is building the foundation of knowledge and spirituality that students walk into our ministries ready to engage. The parent is trying to give her kids the same positive church experiences she had in her youth. The senior pastor wants all areas of the church to be healthy and functional. The volunteer has a heart for serving students.
Students don’t need (or want, or care about) someone who knows the latest games, writes the strongest curriculum, and creates great events in a single bound completely solo. They are looking for a place to go, where leaders believe they are worthy of attention. They want to explore their spirituality and be shown that who they are matters.
That realization has caused a huge shift in the way I view and do student ministry. It’s not just about building a team of adults who can work together to build a program that connects to a wide variety of students or listening to more voices than just your own. It’s about preparing students to be active participants in their own spiritual development.
Students should leave high school feeling a deep connection to God and equipped for lifelong spiritual engagement. Get out of the way, and give them the space and the skills to collaborate with God as they learn who they are as disciples in the world.
Our ministries are full of unique individuals, each with his or her own story, struggle and understanding of who God is. We can’t determine the right thing for each of them to hear and learn at all times. However, working alongside them and giving them room to breathe and speak lets us forge that path together.
There are simple ways to put this into practice. Take a break from standing up front and delivering the message. Turn your chairs around so they can see and hear each other. Do a lot less talking and a lot more listening. Ask them where they have seen God move in their lives and where the old answers aren’t working anymore. Don’t get nervous when students have a crazy idea about God. Rejoice that they own their thoughts and have a place to discuss them.
They can’t do it on their own. You can’t do it on your own. Is there space in your ministry for spiritual collaboration? Can you trust the Spirit to lead you and your students where you need to go?
1 Nouwen, H. (1989). In the Name of Jesus: Reflections on Christian Leadership (p. 62). Crossroad.
