The kids ministry challenge Jesus asks of every congregation

This morning in church I gave the congregation a challenge during the “kid’s talk.”

I write “kid’s talk” because my speaking spot in church isn’t always directed at those still at school.

This morning, the aim was squarely at the adults in the room.

Linking with the passage about young Jesus in the Temple from Luke 2, I mentioned how those who witnessed Jesus’ questions and observations were amazed.

I then said, after teaching something like 1500 scripture lessons, one of the enduring lessons for me was the ability of children to understand, question and insightfully observe the gospel.

In short, the faith of children can still be amazing.

I concluded by reminding the congregation that, if Jesus wants those who’d follow Him to have childlike faith (Luke 18:17), then if they don’t go out of their way to witness the faith of the children around them (be it scripture in school, the church’s ministry to children after school or on a Sunday) then how can they know exactly what Jesus wants them to have?

For, if you don’t see the faith of a child, how can you know what Jesus us talking about?

The continuing ministry of your first church

A few weeks ago I went to a morning service of my home church.

While this was the church I first attended, and held my first youth ministry position in, I haven’t darkened the doors in around a decade.

Needless to say, some things had changed.

A coat of paint.

A renovation.

Some people had passed away.

But, some things were the same.

Some familiar faces.

Some familiar furnishings.

Some ongoing ministries.

But, as I sat up the back of church, I got nostalgic.

I remembered those who had impacted my youth faith and fledging ministry career.

This is the ongoing ministry of your home church.

The loving example of Mary and Warwick.

The example of service by Norm and Maureen.

The passion of John.

The generosity of John and Nancy.

The burning sense of justice by Gwen.

The warmth of Samanglee.

The leadership of Derek.

The quiet strength of Heather.

The hard-work of Bruce.

There are many more faces who showed me what it was to be a faithful Christian.

They showed me what it was to be a church.

They showed me what it was to serve. To love. To be generous. To care. To give a young kid a change he probably didn’t deserve.

This is the lasting imprint, and ongoing ministry, of my home church.

How I will be explaining yesterday’s “No”

As I anticipated in yesterday’s post about the referendum, the vote was decided in the negative.

Having voted yes, I think it’s not the best (if not bravest) decision. But, as of right now, it’s the path Australia has decided.

So, how am I going to explain the outcome?

How will I explain it to the students in my classroom? 

How will I explain the outcome to my children?

How will I explain it to my grandchildren?

In part, most of my explanation way laid out yesterday.

The government did a woeful job in clearly justifying what they wanted the people to agree to.

The government, in light of history, should never have announced a referendum without bipartisan agreement.

This, of course, leads to the most important element when discussing the result last night…

People voted no on The Voice.

They didn’t vote no on indigenous people.

The idea was rejected.

Not the people primarily affected.

Now, as a white person, I’m not in a place to say how indigenous people feel about the outcome.

I’ve got no doubt that some, even a large portion, of the ATSI population feel jilted about the referendum.

But, nonetheless, this was a rejection of an idea of government.

A poorly explained idea.

And, the people said no.

This is their right in a democracy.

This would be my final point in the explanation.

You don’t have to like the outcome in a democracy.

In fact, quite often you’ll find yourself in the minority after an election.

Unless your political seat is constantly being held by the victorious national and state governments, then your vote probably went to the overall “losers” of the election.

It will happen often over your voting lifetime.

You have to be able to deal with that outcome.

This is how democracy works.

Even if you don’t like the result.

Even if it makes you angry.

Or disappointed.

Democracy is bigger than you.

And democracy is what people have fought for and died defending.

Yesterday what about democracy.

Messy, disagreeable, democracy.

Why I will be voting yes

Tomorrow, Australia has a referendum about the recognition of the indigenous people of the nation, voting to include them in the constitution of our country and installing an advisory body to the government called The Voice.

The offical pamphlet outlining the two positions - yes and no - can be found here.

Tomorrow I’ll be voting yes.

But, initially, I wasn’t going to.

The reason was fairly simple.

The government has done a horrid job in selling the details of The Voice.

In fact, they’ve outright said that they haven’t arranged the details.

And, understandably, this leaves many unanswered questions.

There’s confusion about the nature of The Voice, the makeup of The Voice, the exact powers of The Voice, who The Voice will be able to give advice to, where The Voice will be based, how much The Voice will cost, how The Voice will be able to accurately represent an entire nation of indigenous peoples and how The Voice will effectively “close the gap” in achieving advancement for the indigenous peoples of Australia. These are only some of the questions left up in the air before polling day. 

As I said, the government has done a woeful job of selling the affirmative case.

But, they were always going to be fighting an uphill battle.

For, Australia usually rejects most referendums placed before them (only passing 8 of 44).

Unless there is bipartisan support for a referendum question, the opportunity for the opposition to air any weakness of a referendum proposal instantly get a loud sounding board and a significant portion of the population will be willing to listen.

More so, this negative message can feed into our individual and communal fear of change and aversion to “being told what to do.” Let’s face it, a government only puts forward a proposal if they want to be be passed. That, in itself, can gear some to rebuff the government’s “agenda.”

For the reasons above, I was prepared to vote no.

Until… I seriously considered the first element of the referendum question.

Should we recognise the indigenous peoples in our constitution?

In this, we must vote yes.

That we need a vote at all is embarrassing.

That the oldest surviving culture on the planet requires recognition is a disgrace.

Anyone with a sense of justice or dignity cannot let this go unamended.

In an ideal world, the questions about the recognition and the establishment of The Voice would be divorced. In fact, this is what the opposition are proposing if the negative wins tomorrow and they subsequently get into office.

The first question would canter in, just as the referendum did in 1967 to then include Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders in the census.

The second element of the question is the major sticking point.

So, why am I going to vote yes?

Simply, because giving someone else a louder voice doesn’t lessen my voice.

Especially since I’m a part of the sector of society with the loudest voice. And, this will not change.

Do I know all the answers about The Voice? Definitely not.

Will it fix every problem for our indigenous peoples? Probably not.

But, something needs to change. 

Our indigenous peoples deserve better.

Even if The Voice is a disappointment.

It will be a disappointment which can then be tweaked and, hopefully, improved.

Unfortunately, if the polls hold true, I will be in the minority tomorrow.

And Australia will find itself on the wrong side of history. Not to mention justice.

Why you should do your private business in public

Now that I’m back in the country, I still have some work to do before the next term kicks off.

Just like when I was in ministry, as a teacher, there’s a prevailing idea that there’s a lot of time off.

Those in ministry only work on Sundays…

Youth group only lasts for two hours per week…

Teachers only work 9-3…

Teachers get 12 weeks of holidays per year…

One way to combat this mindset is to do your “hidden” work in public.

Mark papers or do post-youth group admin in the library.

Do term preparation or sermon research in a local cafe.

In doing this “off the clock” work in the eye-line of others, then the mindset that teachers or those in ministry “only work” a limited window of hours may begin to fade away.

How do you effectively do ministry in a basilica?

I just got back from a holiday in Europe, including a ten-day trip to Rome.

Needless to say, I saw a lot of churches and ruins.

Among the 900 alleged places of worship, the majority were very old and very large.

While we were there we saw a few church services - a baptism, wedding and an ordinary church service. Unsurprisingly, none packed out the space.

When your in a hundreds-year-old basilica, capable of holding hundreds of people, the churches were sparsely populated.

Frankly, a similar thing could be said about most Sydney churches on any given Sunday.

But I did wonder how modern ministry would happen in an ancient building?

What challenges would you face in a 1500 year basilica?

For an ancient building even logistical elements like electricity or technology availability would be a challenge.

Of course, very few ancient buildings have a space appropriate for youth or children’s activities.

How do you run an effective ministry to the young in a church full of ancient relics?

How do you keep a church ministry legislative compliant when your ministry is running atop a 500-year-old mosaic or the gravestones of deceased saints?

Is there any space where you could play games without endangering heritage relics (no church appeared to have halls attached to their buildings)?

The more I think about it, the more the challenges arise…

How do you conduct services with a continuous stream of gawking tourists? Surely this couldn’t remain child-protection compliant.

How about the challenge of holding a service in such a vast, but primarily empty, space?

I suppose the secret is to leverage the advantages of such a vast, old, church.

You link heavily to the awe-inspiring nature of the space.

You emphasise the links to centuries of history.

While you may not have a space to play basketball inside, there are no churches in my entire country which are as old or large as many of the churches I entered while in Rome.

Maybe those in Rome would be pondering how you could do effective ministry in a place which doesn’t take your breath away when you enter and isn’t centuries old…