My first 10 months in youth ministry were textbook perfect. I’ll share my secret formula with you. I began with this question: “How can I draw teens?” My answer included a catchy purpose statement, “X-Treme” games, and intentional marketing. Our group doubled. Everyone was ecstatic! Since numbers and excitement are sure signs of genuine spiritual growth, we earned straight A’s from The Big Guy, right? Ministry was great!
Then we received a surprise test. A weeklong summer camp ended early when a canoe capsized and two students drowned. No matter how much time has passed, writing that sentence still makes me numb. I stood in the creek as the accident details unfolded and never imagined how much this would change my approach to ministry.
The following months were a fog. The group shrunk. The remaining students struggled to do much of anything. The leaders were no exception. That fall I opened a new series by asking, “Does prayer really work?” Most everyone nodded.
In truth, following the accident, I had trouble praying; and I felt like a hypocrite even saying the word prayer. It was time to ditch my mask. “I’m not so sure,” I replied. I waited for the church leaders to storm the room. I’d always figured they had bugged the place.
Bob, one of our troubled students, broke the momentary silence. “I want it to be real for me.” He started crying. “I do. But I feel like it’s all bulls–t.” No one laughed. Church leaders didn’t burst in. We sat in silence. I asked a new question. “How many aren’t sure anymore?” We all nodded.
No More Fluff
Until then I actually believed I was doing ministry right. But after watching spiritual foundations fall like dominos, I realized Bob was right; and it was my fault. I guess I trusted my kids’ spiritual growth to osmosis. Looking back, I think the fluff that entertained them overshadowed the content that could— would—prepare them for life.
Fluff may work for Disney, but it does not produce disciples of Jesus.
So I stopped and simply focused on truly loving students without gimmicks. The result was authenticity. Some warn against being too authentic. That’s ridiculous. Being authentic is like being pregnant: either you are or you aren’t. And students don’t expect perfection; they want us to be real. In fact, letting students see that we struggle may get their eyes off us long enough to follow the real Savior of the world.
What Do They Need This Week?
In Mark 9 a dad asked Jesus to heal his son. The man told Jesus, “I believe. Help me overcome my unbelief.” That has become my prayer. “I believe You, God. But help me because sometimes I don’t.”
We don’t have our students very long. They come and go because of a parent’s new job, divorce, graduation, or lack of fun. They break up with someone in your group or start dating someone in the new group down the road. Whatever the reason, the fact is still the same: students move on quicker than we think.
So I’ve started asking this question: “What does Bob or Sue, or Christopher or Jessica, need this week so he or she can get to know Jesus better?” That has become my passion, and the focus is no longer on games.
I know what you’re saying. I’m way too serious. But I wonder—what would it take for you get serious, too?
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With more than 13 years of ministry background, GLEN VAN CISE wears multiple hats, including husband, father, paralegal, and Mayor of Townville, Penn., where he ministers to youth of all ages as interim pastor of Chapmanville Community Church.
The views expressed by our guest columnists are theirs. That doesn’t mean these views are ours, or God’s. Let us know what you think at feedback@youthworker.com.
