Arranging where the butts go

At my previous church I moved rows of plastic chairs. 

A. Lot. Of. Chairs.

Each week I'd set up the hall/church for the Friday youth activities and the Sunday night evening service.

As the architect of the seating arrangements I had a lot of choices...

How many chairs do I put out?
Do I match the amount of last week?
Do I leave room for more?
Do I have the same arrangement as usual?
Where do I want the focus to be?
How do I get the majority of people sitting where I prefer? 

Most importantly...
How do I make it look full?

This is the question which dictates the most time in the mind of a person setting up for church.

Can you make the space feel full? 
Can people look around and see others?
Are there spots where people can feel isolated?

I'd love to say that I had noble, God's-Kingdom-building, intentions when I set out the chairs.

But, truthfully, some weeks were about creating the illusion of a fattened attendance, even if there weren't more people in the room. 

A bible study of soft throws or curve balls?

Bible studies come in a lot of forms. 

They vary depending on the make up of the participants, their chronological and spiritual maturity, the amount of time the group has been together, the length of time they have to meet, the openness to new members, the history of those involved, the nature of what book/theme/topic they are looking at and the preference of the leader.

At times, it will be appropriate for the study to be more surface level and exploratory.

On other occasions it will be fine for the group to be lead through a series of in-depth, technical or searching questions

Is one better?

Both have times when they are needed and useful.

And your group needs both.

At the core, the gospel message is simple and you should keep coming back to it. There's no problem when the answers bring you back to trusting in Jesus and being saved by God's grace.

On the other hand, we shouldn't be scared of delving into some of the more complex/confusing passages of the bible or topics. If we're going to develop an intellectually defendable faith, then the tough things of faith should be seriously wrestled with.

So, you need both.

Some weeks will reassure you of the beauty, truthfulness and simplicity of the gospel.

Other weeks can leave your brain whirling from the way you've been challenged of the new revelations which have unfolded.

The danger is when we don't get the balance right and only do one. 

Do we consider the believer's drain caused by religious schools?

I didn't go to a Christian school, but there was an active scripture presence in the school, and nearby there were a number of Catholic, Anglican and independent Christian schools.

Furthermore, I've be attached to numerous public and private high schools while I was a youth minister. In some cases, these were schools connected to my denomination. 

A few weeks ago I heard a scripture teacher from the local high school, the one I attended, speak in a church service.

Amongst other things, prompted by a question, he mentioned the role of Christians within public schools.

In his response he said, while the local public school is a rich ministry field, a part of the reason is the Christian drain which occurs due to religious schools.

Without doubt, religious schools serve an important communal, educational and spiritual purpose, but it can come at a cost to the public system.

With the vast majority of Christians withdrawn from the public system, where does this leave the Christian presence in, primarily secular, state schools, especially peer-to-peer?

One inadvertent effect of this funnelling, with the Christians in their own special conclave, is it gives the appearance that their are far fewer believers than is actually the case.

Additionally, it isolates any new believers or genuine enquirers who might emerge through the scripture programs.


So... Does the heartfelt desire to cater, or even worse, shelter your child from public education hurt the wider Christian witness?

The church without old people is weak

Now that I'm not in vocational ministry, I've changed denomination away from the one with the oldest demographic in the nation. Thus, when I look around during a church service I now see a lot less wrinkled faces.

Usually, frankly, pensioners were the majority of people filling the pews. Now they are in the minority.

Seemingly, they only number a handful.

And I'm not sure this is a good thing.

Being someone with a history in youth ministry, this might sound backward since I should be exclaiming the value of youth, but... If I'm honest... I feel a little uneasy in a church devoid of oldies.

Why?

Because, when you're looking for wisdom, this is where it can be found.
When you're looking for peace, this is where it can be located.
When you're in need of a prayer warrior, the older generation are the place to turn.

Sure, not every oldie will be overflowing with positivity and spiritual heroics (the grumpy old person is very much alive and well within the church), but, with a lifetime of positive, negative, uplifting and crushing experience within the church and amongst society, they can be much needed fountains of faithfulness and support.

This is why the church needs old people.

People who can speak up in times of trouble or crisis and say that they've seen it before.
People who can tell you when they went through the same thing you are.
People who can guide you through the steps of life they've already walked down.
People who have the perspective to know what's actually important in life and the church.
People who know what it's like to give consistently and sacrificially.
People who have seen God work and heard prayers answered.

These are the faces and stories which strengthen the church and uplift those who work within it.

Young and opinionated is ok

When it comes to the development of faith, one of the final stages is, as I describe, mega-confidence.

Fuelled by an expanding exposure to church culture and leadership, a plethora of books, numerous questions and "profound conversations" and infinite articles/blog posts on the Internet, nowadays a young Christian can both devour and develop theology at a previously unforeseen rate and depth.

The result is a knowledge, and confidence, which is common in Christian young adults.

As young adults mature chronologically, cognitively, experientially and spiritually, they establish what they do and do not believe. They decide what they will and will not stand for. They, especially if immersed in the university mindset of intellectual exploration, will mine the depths of things which both confuse and stimulate them. 

As a result, Christian young adults can be quite opinionated.

And, frankly, annoying.

And that's ok.

I want young adults to be confident in what they believe because they've examined the challenging things of faith.

In many settings, like university, they'll need to be confidently armed with answers in order to thrive in an, occasionally, confrontational theatre.

In general, young adults don't deal greatly in shades of gray.

Again, that can be annoying.

And, again, that's ok.

Especially if you're aware of this going into a conversation/discussion with a headstrong young adult.

For, they'll think they're correct and have a handful of evidence, both biblical and theological to back them up.

What they might lack is the experience and wisdom to apply and explain their confident knowledge.

But, in order to confidently stand on their own two legs - knowing what they stand upon, for and against - this is the exact stage they need to be in.

Should we retreat?

I've been on plenty of "retreats."

Some have been personal, most professional.

Every time I've returned I've felt a little squeamish about the term retreat. Why? Because words and titles matter.

They matter in terms of what they communicate about the events, particpants and those on the outside looking in.

So, with that said, do we always want to "retreat?"

I ask because, in some instances, retreating is negative.
Retreating is surrendering.
Retreating is defeat.

Is that the message we want to send?

In some cases, you need to retreat. 

In most "retreat" situations, you're going to rejuvenate. Or relax. Or escape.
But, if our intentions are to do some of the latter terms, why don't we honestly use them?

Furthermore, how does our "retreating" sound to the outsider?
What, exactly, are we retreating from?

Does the church have an intimidating BMI?

Some churches are... Well... Full of beautiful people.
Or, with a glancing overview, appear that way.

Or, at least apparently, be filled with relatively talented, nice, mono-cultural, 6+/10 looking people.

I wonder, can this be intimidating to outsiders?

Is it intimidating to minorities?
Is it intimidating to the obese?

Does it run through someone's mind when they're going to invite someone to church?

Of course, it shouldn't.

Our churches are more welcoming than that...
We care more about their salvation than comfort...
People, in general, aren't that insecure...

But, are we really welcoming to those who are different?
Do we care more, or at least equally, about our friends or family fitting in?
If someone's already unnerved about a characteristic or setting, does our church congregation provide a barrier that they'd struggle to overcome?

I don't know what the answer is... There might not be one. 
I don't think we should instigate services especially for the chubby or less athletically gifted.

But, when I look around some churches, I think I'd be a little intimidated if I weren't as beautiful as the rest of the congregation.

Could we now describe a fearful hell?

Fire.
Brimstone.
Sulphur.

Traditionally, these are the images associated with hell.

For a time, these were the images which communicated aspects of hell.

Fear.
Torment.
A place to be desperately avoided.

To be honest, I'm not convinced they communicate the same ideas now.
Today, they are images from cartoons.

They're, certainly, no longer scary.

Is this a bad thing?
Have we, now, stripped hell of being scary?
Do we even have the images available to us today in order to communicate fear of hell?

Frankly, I'm not sure.

Nowadays, and it's something I often did, we use abstract ideas for the afterlife.

Darkness.
Absence.
Isolation.
A lack of all that is Godly or good.

I'm not sure these images are scary in the same manner that the picture of fire and brimstone were.

On the scale of fear-inducing, we've gone backwards.

And I'm not sure we can wrestle it back.

You could argue that fear isn't a motivator which should be used in or by Christianity, but this option has now been neutered.

But, if we did want to resurrect a scary image of hell, what would we use?

The twin towers on 911?
The London unit fire?
The Boxing Day tsunami?

I don't know what image you could use, but truthfully, I suspect that many strands of Christianity and induviduals would shy away from using them anyway...

The message of "Dear Graeme..."

A few days ago I got forwarded an email from my immediate superiors' boss.

While the email was nothing more than passing on his gratitude for a task I had done, it included one detail which largely undid all the goodwill he intended.

He misspelt my name.

Now, this isn't the first time it's ever happened to me, nor till it be the last. It's just a part of life if your name happens to be spelt in multiple ways.

And, while I'm sure this was an innocent mistake,  it did communicate one thing clearly.

I don't really know you.

I might be aware of you, but I don't really know you.

And, in ministry, I sent this message far too often.

Because I was crap in remembering names.
It was a constant struggle.

Sure, I could blame my history of concussions.
Or the number of people I'd come in contact with over my church life.
Or the hundred-odd children I'd teach scripture to each year.

But, every time I'd struggle to recall or misspell a name, I sent a message - even unintentionally.

I don't know you.
You're not important enough for me to learn your name.

As an adult, boss' misspelling was inconsequential.

As a child, looking for approval and a place to belong, the message could be quite damaging.