2022 Best Of…

This year’s Ramblings have had a different flavour.

In the most part, it’s because I’m in a different stage of life than before.

I’m not a youth minister… and I haven’t been vocationally since 2016.

I’m no longer a University student… I graduated last year.

I’m now a full time high school teacher, working my first year in a school teaching history and geography.

But, this is still a place for my musings on life, church, faith, ministry to youngsters and, now, teaching.

So, the prime Ramblings from 2022 were…

The test of Christian maturity you’ll inevitably face  

How long should you milk the controversy?

How aware are we of out time?

The cost of omitting the rituals in the evening

The dangers of Build-Your-Own Christianity 

You need to look at both sides of the marriage equation

Being on the other side of scripture teaching

What do you do with a bible you a throwing out?

What you gain when you don’t have to fake it anymore

What you preach on in your ministry diapers will shape your future

The best piece of teaching advice I’ve received 

Why Lamentations?

The reason that people leave that we MUST speak about

You may stop, but you don’t forget how

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

The power of saying you agree (my most read post of 2020)

The only safe option when church and mental health collide 

Ministries of awareness and availability (what I think is the most important thing I’ve written in… years)

The perks of owning your own classroom

Why it’s time for the offering bags to return

The profession your minister morphs into as your church grows

Authoritative.

A constant.

A respected voice.

Something reliable in uncertain times.

Someone who shares the weighty stories of the community.

Someone you can somewhat get to know, but who will never personally know you.

Which profession am I referring to?

A newsreader.

But I could easily be referring to a long-term minister at a large church.

They have all the hallmarks of a beloved newsreader.

They are a familiar face.

They are a trusted voice.

They are someone who has been in the background of all the significant events.

But… they are in the background.

They are a voice… which doesn’t know your name.

They are one who shares select stories… but didn’t know yours.

And herein lies the weakness of supersized Christianity.

The flock is too large for the shepherd.

For example, today I graduated from University.

In all likelihood, my current minister will have no idea.

He won’t know to ask me about it on Sunday.

There’s a decent chance that he won’t even get around to speaking with me on Sunday.

And… this isn’t his fault. I attend a church large enough that the senior minister cannot possibly be in personal contact with everyone weekly.

The downside is that your minister becomes more like a beloved newsreader and less like a shepherd who intimately knows each individual sheep.

Why it’s time for the offering bags to return

At most churches everything appears pre-COVID.

All ministries have reactivated.

Attendance is back to normal.

Christmas will be business-as-usual.

Of course, the signs of COVID still linger.

COVID safety plans are still in effect - some social distancing, stay away if you’re sick, online services are still an option to tune in to.

But, one thing has remained absent - the offering bag.

These velvet pouches or wooden plates have remained in mothballs.

But, it’s time they returned.

Why?

Because we need to get back into the habit of giving.

We need to be reminded that giving is a communal activity.

We need to remember that giving is a physical discipline.

Online, direct-debit, giving - while absolutely essential during lockdowns - has stripped the congregation of the tangible-ness of the offering.

We need to get that back.

If we don’t, the offering will remain another weekly bill that we barely notice.

The habit of bringing your offering will go unlearnt by younger generations.

While I’m sure the offering bags won’t overflow with their reintroduction, since cash is a far rarer commodity nowadays, the lessons that the offering bags teach are well worth their return.

The power of the meeting confession

Last Sunday I was in a church meeting. Nothing unexpected was predicted.

How wrong I was.

During the meeting the church leadership did something I’ve never seen before.

They publicly confessed.

Openly.

In front of the entire church.

Without even the hint of a scandal.

They admitted that they’ve let people down.

They admitted that they’ve miscommunicated.

And then they were prayed for, while kneeling before the congregation, by a lay leader of the church.

It was refreshing to see and hear.

It was vulnerable.

It was authentic.

It was something I’d never considered doing personally.

Nor was it something I’d heard done elsewhere.

But, it’s moments of pastoral awareness like this which dramatically add relational capital with those who have been let down by the leadership and those who will remain under the pastoral wings of the leaders.