The blessing and danger of boomerang-ing back to your spiritual home

Depending on the time of your conversion, there is a fair chance that you’ll have a church you consider your spiritual “ancestral home”.

You grew up there.

You made memories there.

You had spiritual awakenings there.

You had mentors there.

Maybe you got married there.

Maybe your children were even baptised there.

But… after years or decades, you moved on.

Maybe it was caused by a change in geography, vocational or life circumstance - no matter - you’re now at a new church.

This is me.

I’ve been at my current church for around five years.

Prior to my years in youth ministry, I attended the church I was converted in for a decade-and-a-half.

This is my spiritual home.

And I haven’t been back for quite a few years.

But, I wonder, should I periodically return?

Should churches expect boomerang visitors?

If a church has a long-term history, but finds itself in a location which is financially unrealistic for young adults to stay, can a return Sunday be a genuine blessing or ministry opportunity?

Frankly, I don’t know.

I don’t know, aside from a slice of morbid curiosity, what boomerang-ing visitors would achieve.

Sure, I’d like to know whom, after a decade or two is still alive… but that shouldn’t be the reason I visit.

I’d like to know how things have changed… but that isn’t why I should attend.

I’d like to take a gander at the renovations… but that isn’t why I should darken the doors on a Sunday morning.

To be honest, every reason I’d have for attending would be a little self-serving.

I’d feel like an ecclesiastical tourist.

But, what about those at my home church?

May they not gain something?

Won’t they enjoy seeing me?

Perhaps.

But there is a flip side to this issue.

What if everything isn’t how you expect it to be?

What if your home church is dying?

What if they’ve made changes to something you deeply valued?

What if those you looked up to are now deceased and you’ve missed their funeral?

What if you’re no longer in ministry and they aren’t aware?

What if you ultimately leave more disappointed than encouraged?

The secret to getting beyond the question “Was Sunday School fun this morning?”

If a church wants to be genuinely “family friendly” I think there must be a part of the service dedicated to some form of children’s address or talk.

In doing so, I think it strongly informs the regular congregation and guests that teaching and including the young people is a vital element of the meeting time.

But, the way I give kid’s talks changed a lot over a decade.

Originally, my kid’s talks were very one-sided.

I’d talk.

I’d refer to the prop or activity.

Over time, I discovered a secret.

Questions.

First of all, while encouraging those with kids to sit near the front (so the kids can see what’s going on), I wouldn’t split them from their families by inviting the kids down the front on a Sunday morning.

Why?

Because I want the kids, parents and entire congregation to engage with my question.

This, I believe is the key to intergenerational worship. 

Let them wonder together. 

Allow them to talk. 

Give them space to share their stories.

By punctuating your kid’s address with a question, vitally, you open the door for further conversations.

For example, a few weeks ago I did a short address before my local congregation about what I would be doing with the youngsters during church.

In doing so, I referred to my prop, explained how it connected to my greater point, and asked the congregation to share a story linked to my object.

In this case, my question was… “How is God like a chicken plate?”

In context, this makes complete sense (trust me!).

But, most importantly, this question opened up conversations after the service.

Now, the adults could pose this question to each other and to the youth they bump into after church.

Now, the default query “was kid’s church fun/good/exciting?” can be replaced by a far deeper, more informed question.

As I wrote here, most ministers would gain a lot be doing a series of kid’s talks. With this, the way they communicate theology (simply!) and elicit further conversation, would improve many a Sunday sermon.

Working out who you would be to guide your responses

The quiet kid.

The checks kid.

The distant kid.

The bullied kid.

The uncertain kid.

The smart kid.

After a while, every kid becomes the something kid.

It’s true in the classroom.

It’s true in the church.

Who was I?

This is a question that should get asked from those up the front.

If it applies, which seat would they have been sitting in a decade ago?

Where would they fit in their class?

Which kid would they be like?

Better yet, warts and all, who were they like? 

The bully?

The wise ass?

The disinterested one?

We need those in leadership and authority to remember that they, at one time, were in the seats of the classroom or, potentially, pews of the church.

How would they have wanted to be treated back then?

It is this process which builds empathy.

It is this process which can direct the most positive ways to react to certain students.

Everyone has a seventh-level-of-hell that they must endure

Dancing.

Year 10.

For five weeks.

If you’re a PE teacher in NSW, this is a part of your job.

I would hate it.

It would be a month-and-a-half drain to my soul.

But, you'd have to do it.

Every job holds elements like this.

Things you need to do but don’t necessarily enjoy. Or at least don’t enjoy as much as the other parts.

It is important that these things are recognised.

In every job.

In doing this you gain empathy for the struggles they have.

For, everyone has long shifts.

Everyone has long weeks.

Everyone has difficult tasks.

Everyone has jobs with groan inducing elements.

This is true for teaching.

And ministry.

And churches.

While troubles shouldn’t be the bulk of your work, while the grass may appear greener elsewhere, it’s good to remember that every patch has a bunch of weeds.

You may stop, but you don’t forget how

I used a prop to connect with my point.

I did a short talk in church, including a sharing question.

I told the congregation what the kids would be doing while the church service was on.

I played a simple game.

I led singing, making quite a fool of myself.

I explained a simple point, again, using a prop.

I included the kids in the teaching activities.

In short, I ran the kids activities at my daughter’s church for the first time last Sunday.

In fact, it was the first dose of ministry with children I have done since 2016.

And nothing that I did was very difficult.

Or groundbreaking.

But… it was fairly successful and well received.

Last Sunday was a nice reminder, for me, that ministry is still something that I can do.

I still have many of the tools.

I still have many of the routines.

For those out of ministry for a while, this is a source of angst - Do I still have it?

Of course, everything we do in church should be ultimately empowered by the Holy Spirit.

But, in many ways, ministry is like riding a bike.

So long as you still have a strong faith, you don’t forget, you just fall out of routine.