Could a church have a booty-call ministry?

Marriages need time to remain healthy.

Some of that time may result in… adult cuddles.

But, children will encroach on this time.

Obviously.

With this in mind, some churches are willing to provide babysitting so parents can periodically have a date night.

It’s a tremendous idea.

But, what if, instead of seeing a movie or going out for dinner, the parents used the time to… cuddle?

Spoken or unspoken, how would the church respond if this use of a “dating-window” emerged?

Should they be all for it?

Perhaps even encourage it?

Could it be an unofficial booty-call ministry?

I’ve never heard of this ministry actually occurring, but maybe that’s the point. 

You don’t ask. 

You just provide an opportunity…

If you’re passion for pro-life doesn’t align with your passion for pro-birth than your actually an a$$hole

Last week I was asked my opinion on abortion.

As I was walking out the door, I quickly mentioned that, as a contraceptive device, I’m against it.

Nothing too controversial there.

But, I could have gone further.

I could have elaborated on my answer.

I could have said that, with the plethora of better options, a pre planned abortion is a bad idea. It’s potentially harmful. It’s needlessly complicated. Depending on the wishes I’d both sexual parties, it can get immensely messy.

But, I suspect I was actually being asked if I was, as a concept, for or against abortion. 

Of course, the conversation couldn’t have occurred properly due to the mere seconds I had to respond. For example, there was no change to the abortion disclaimer.

If I did have a longer discussion, I’d raise two points.

First, I’d ask if someone’s start of life aligned with their definition of ending life.

Brain function? Heartbeat? Independent survival?

If these are your markers for continuing living, then how do these compare with your stance on abortion?

More so, if anyone is pro-life, no matter to what degree, it must be determined if they are actually pro-life or pro-birth.

In short, does someone’s stand on abortion align with their stance of what happens after birth?

Are they as strong an advocate for neonatal care? Or adoption services? Or postpartum care? Or early childcare? 

Do they give a single thought to what happens to the child and mother once the child is born?

If not, then the person isn’t pro-life. They are pro-birth.

They demand a birth, but not the systems to support the new life.

Frankly, this is the action of an uncaring jerk.

if you push for a child - no matter under what circumstances - to be born, then you absolutely must ensure that this life, and the mother, is provided for.

Squinting in the pulpit

I was blind. Legally. For almost a decade.

Then, in a quirk of irony, I could see.

Now, as I wade into my forties, my vision is starting to fail again.

I now use glasses to read screens and to drive at night.

It’s not an emergency, I’m just getting old.

But, I do wonder how it would have effected my preaching if I was still mounting the pulpit every fortnight.

In the classroom, I’m almost unaffected. 

Whilst I take my glasses to every lesson, I almost never need them during class. For some reason, during school hours, my vision is still capable for me to educate  the youth.

In fact, whenever a student spots me in the staff room with my glasses on, they are usually confused by my spectacles.

Nonetheless, if I was teaching a morning lesson or a night class, I’d be in the need of vision assistance.

And these are the timeframes when I’d be preaching in a church.

Of course, the answer is simple. 

I’d just wear my glasses.

I’d admit that I’m getting older and pop on my eyewear.

No. Big. Deal.

But, this change wouldn’t happen overnight.

It has taken me a few years to get used to wearing my glasses when required.

So, would I have adopted my glasses sooner once I noticed it affecting my preaching?

Or, would I have just enlarged the font on my notes?

Would I, inevitably, have been put in a position where I couldn’t actually comfortably read my notes?

If so, how would I have dealt with this catastrophe?

Would I let anyone know?

Would I just try and wing the sermon?

Now, on the other side of my declining eyesight, I’d have no qualms in wearing my glasses to preach or read the Bible.

But that one Sunday when I’d have failed due to blurry words would have left me pretty red-faced.

Someone must stay in the zone to take notes

Every so often, you aren’t in the zone to learn.

It may be as a student in a classroom.

Maybe as a member of a congregation in a church.

No matter, sometimes you can feel that you’re going to zone out.

When this happens, there’s a couple of options of what do do next.

The first is to fight the urge to tune out.

Be it through the use of caffeine, a rededication of focus or a firm shake of the head, you’ll do all that you can to stay attentive.

Frankly, this can just result in your energy, effort and attention being directed at preserving your state of mindfulness.

Alternatively, you can just be resigned to drifting off.

No matter if it is caused by fatigue from a restless night, tiredness from a prior session of intense focus or your mind wandering due to indifference, sometimes your brain just isn’t prepared to listen or absorb information.

Can there be a third course of action?

Partnership.

Develop a learning partnership which includes reciprocal note taking.

Develop a spiritual partnership with someone who will pay attention.

Occasionally, within this partnership, you’re able to tap out for this session. Your partner will then extensively record what was said and engage you with the content later.

They, for your inattentive session, will engage for you.

Just as you will do for them if called upon.

But, for all involved - the speaker, the attentive and inattentive.

It takes self awareness.

It takes honesty.

It takes responsibility.

It takes preparedness to do the same.

HYAnd it takes maturity.

The balance must go all the way

Referendums and theology can have multiple things in common.

We can wildly disagree about them.

We can get firmly entrenched in “our camp” of the issue.

We can be incredibly opinionated about them online.

And, sometimes, we say - even with the best of intentions - that things are going to be balanced when we discuss them.

The trouble is, no matter if the discussion is occurring amongst family or friends, or in private or civic settings, we often fail to be truely balanced.

Why? 

Because our good intentions often don’t cover over our personal feelings.

I’ve got no doubt that when I teach the studies of religion subject at my school next year, even unknowingly, I will not be giving a balanced view.

Not all the time.

Even accidentally.

The best way to measure if you’re being genuinely balanced in your discussion of a topic is the following: questions, praise and encouragement.

Are you posing an equal number of questions to either/all sides?

Are you directing the same amount of praise to all sides?

Do those, no matter where their opinion falls on the topic, leave with the same level of encouragement?

If you can’t honestly respond that everyone has received the same level of challenge and exhortation, then you had a discussion… but it wasn’t a genuinely balanced one.

The people who MUST lead a Sunday morning children’s ministry

In writing this, I do so as the following….

A parent of two school-aged children.

Someone who, unpaid, leads the children’s ministry program at my kids church.

Someone who, while employed, ran Sunday School/the kids/teens program on Sunday mornings for nearly a decade-and-a-half.

Someone who has always had the following nagging feeling.

And, I know what I write next won’t be popular.

Nonetheless…

No one should be paid to actively run activities/ministry on a Sunday morning for kids.

Now, this may be an idealistic pipe dream. 

A fantasy.

An ecclesiastical utopia. 

A declaration which rides in the face of decades of ministry.

An idea which shouts against the expectations of churches.

A challenge to those needing to justify their church pay-check.

But, it is my solid belief that the primary ministers and spiritual teachers/examples for children should be their parents. 

Sure, in rare cases children will arrive at church without a believing parent or guardian, but your atypical youngster will only darken the church doors with a churchgoing caretaker.

Thus, their spiritual instructions should fall primary upon their shoulders.

And this shouldn’t merely involve opening their wallets and paying for “a professional” to minister to their kids.

It should include, periodically, volunteering to be actively involved in the ministry to the youth.

I don’t expect that a parent will take on the primary burden every week or fortnight,but if a church has a dozen or more kids, then the parents should be willing to take it in turns to share the gospel.

Now, this will be controversial since some parents don’t especially like kids who aren’t their own.

Or don’t think that they’re very good at the “kids stuff.”

But, if you’re a parent, then you have a responsibility nonetheless.

While some in leadership on a Sunday will feel the need to justify their presence or employment, a youth/children’s minister can still be completely justified by having them resource, equip and train the parents on a Sunday morning. The paid staff will still run midweek and outreach activities. They can even retain giving the address in church before the congregation.

But, parents should bear the weight of spiritually educating their kids.

The parents should have a burden upon them to be caring adults in the lives of the youngsters at church. They should want to be a part of the new numbers which matter in church.

The parents should feel the responsibility to invest in the kids who share church with their progeny.

Even if they don’t feel a strong sense of call.

Or equiped.

Or capable.

If they feel ill-prepared, then they may want to reconsider their own Christian discipleship and consider it a warning bell to be ready to spiritually lead their offspring.