How long do you need to commemorate?

A few weeks back, September 11 fell on a Sunday.

I had no idea.

I heard nothing mentioned in church.

The potential significance of this date didn’t even occur to me until my wife mentioned something on the way home.

She thought that something should have been mentioned. At least in passing.

I thought it was perfectly acceptable that the date went past without acknowledgment.

Why?

Because you don’t have to be shackled to the past.

Sure, if I was in America or there was a significant connection between the congregation and 9/11, then it should definitely be a factor within the service.

But in Australia…

21 years later…

I’m perfectly fine with it not being mentioned.

Because, with the passing of time, every date has an event attached with it.

The sinking of the Titanic… April 14.

The ending of apartheid in South Africa… May 4.

The sacking of Rome…August 24.

On the day I write this - September 29 - The Greeks defeated the Persians at the Battle of Salamis.

If they got mentioned during a church service… it would be interesting… but not something that I’d expect.

Surely, with the passing of time, modern events need to eventually fall into this skippable category as well.

Ministries of awareness and availability

Miscarriages.

Eating disorders.

Cancer.

Grief.

The list of things that the church doesn’t speak enough about is lengthy.

The shame about this list, and it could cover dozens of topics, is that it is made up of the very things that those within their congregation (and those around them) are struggling with.

These unspoken needs need a voice.

And, ideally, a face.

For, far too often, those who struggle feel that they are suffering alone.

I wish the church dealt with these issues better.

But, I have little idea how it could effectively happen.

For, these topics aren’t ones where you can have a weekly meeting. 

You don’t create a program for these topics.

Or do a ten-week sermon series.

But, the church can do two important things.

Awareness and availability.

The church must be aware of these topics.

The church must be prepared to speak about them.

The church must make room for them.

Beyond that, the best way the church can effectively minister to those struggling with these neglected topics are believers who are available.

Those who have gone through it.

Those who have struggled through it.

Those who have come out the other side of it.

These people need to be made available.

Ideally, the church should have some kind of list of those within their congregation who have endured adversities, deeply thought about what they went through and emerged with their faith intact.

Speaking with these available people will minister to someone far more effectively than a spiel from the pulpit.

The church needs to exercise the ministries of awareness and availability…

The only safe option when church and mental health collide

Communion and alcoholism.

Church meals and eating disorders.

Prayers and anxiety.

Singing and anxiety.

Blessings and depression.

Baptisms and infertility.

The more you think about it, the more you realise that church events and activities intersect with potential mental health issues. 

When I was in ministry, I didn’t give it too much thought.

It’s not that I didn’t care about the mental health issues of others, I just didn’t connect the dots between the tasks the church ask people to do and the obstacles these may erect.

So, how should the church navigate these dangerous waters?

Put simply, we need to give people the chance to opt out.

Up front, we should acknowledge that some things and church does can be problematic. And we allow people to not attend. 

In fact, alongside a conversation, we should encourage absenteeism.

This is how we communicate that the church is a safe place.

More so, this is how the church communicates that - no matter what issues you come to church with - the church is a place you can belong.

But this only happens if the invitation to NOT be involved is communicated.

Can a Christian believe in our immanent doom?

At. Any. Moment.

Via asteroid strike.

Through the Sun exploding.

As a result of a cosmic weapon.

We could die at any moment.

But, can a Christian believe this?

It don’t think so.

Why?

Because this is not what the Bible foretells.

This age draws to a close through the return of Jesus.

Not an alien intervention.

Nor a zombie apocalypse.

As someone who trusts the words of the bible, immediate destruction simply isn’t an option.

This should be a comfort.

We won’t die from a ball of fire from the sky.

But, this doesn’t leave a Christian without a sense of urgency.

Jesus can return at anytime.

Without warning.

The difference between a sermon and a podfast

I nearly a complete degree listening to the lectures at double speed.

I listen to most of my podcasts at 1.5x.

When I listen to sermons I’ve missed at church, I will get through them in half the time they were delivered.

What affect does this have?

How is preaching impacted in the time of podfasts?

Of course, if you’re attending any presentation life, you’re fully aware that there will only be one speed.

That which the speaker decides.

And, in part, this is a powerful result.

When you listen to a sermon, under the (hopeful) guidance of the Holy Spirit, you are the recipient.

You don’t control the speed.

You don’t control the length.

You don’t, most likely, control the content.

In a podcast you dictate all of these.

But, listening to a sermon live removes you from control.

The aim is to be in a group beyond nice

We have all been in a group which is nice.

No one objects.

No one disagrees.

No one argues.

No one is… honest.

Instead, everyone is nice.

Churches are… nice.

Bible studies are… nice.

Meetings are… nice.

But the truth is, we need more than nice.

In a safe space… We need truth.

In a respectful manner… We need challenge.

This is the kind of churches we need.

This is the kind of small groups we need.

This is the kind of meetings we need.

Why?

Because nice doesn’t produce growth.

The power of saying you agree

I, sometimes unhelpfully, like to think that I’m the smartest person in the room.

Or the funniest.

Or the one who is the “most insightful.”

The reality is, of course, that this is really true.

Nonetheless, one of the consequences of this delusion is that I’ll speak up in small groups I’m comfortable in.

I’ll put in my two-cents.

I’ll be the one to crack the joke.

I’ll also be the one who will play the “alternate viewpoint.” 

With this being the case, I did something a little unexpected during the week.

I agreed with someone.

Completely.

Without reservation.

In a small group setting, like a bible study, this is something which can often go unspoken.

I can, if I’m in agreement, just allow a statement to sit and the conversation to move forward.

Why?

Because I’ll only interject if a have something to add. 

Or correct.

This strips the speaker of the power of validation.

My silence can deny the sharer with the encouragement of solidarity.

As someone who may be renowned as being a contrarian, speaking up and saying that you wholeheartedly agree, can hold a power which is a far better use of your words than staying silent or waiting for your moment to interject.

The difference between teaching and preaching is in the eyes

school teaching is not the same as preaching.

How do I know?

The amount of eye contact used.

I don’t really make intentional eye contact when I teach my students unless it is to subtly alert them to the fact that they aren’t paying attention.

This is the complete opposite of preaching. In this, eye contact is critical.

The difference lies in the personal connection which is intended in the two.

When teaching, often, I’m simply conveying instructions or information.

When I preached, I was hoping to connect my message to the lives of those listening.

The first requires you to hear me, but no need for any intimate connection.

The later flourishes in relationships.

And this desired connection between your words and someone in the congregation is bonded with your eyes.

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.

Is shacking-up the next step you should encourage for your young adults?

I grew up in and worked for the church in Australia with the oldest average demographic.

It wasn’t uncommon that I was the eldest of “the youth”, with the next oldest above me at least a decade older. Sometimes significantly more.

But, I was in churches where young adults grew to become members of the church - thus my 100+ posts on the topic.

Usually, the young adults I’ve w irked with have had three destinations. Get married. Move away, usually fuelled by financial pressures or job opportunities. Leave their home church in order to connect with more people of their own age, particularly if they have no romantic prospects at their current church. Or, unfortunately, fall away.

But, for those who stick around, what should a church recommend that they do post-young adult?

Should a church hope that those who are unwed move in together?

Frankly, I think, this is a wiser option than living alone.

Financially, it makes sense. Especially living in one of the most expensive cities in the world, as I do.

Spiritually, I’d hope that living with other believers is a beneficial decision.

But, can a church nudge their unattached young adults of the same gender together? Should they?

Unless the process happens organically, I suspect the whole process could get very messy.

The last thing that you want is for your church to become unsettled because of cliques which form or stresses from home bleeding into church.

But, if your young adults are looking fir a good way to step away from the nest, doing it with fellow believers is definitely something that the church should encourage.

Should you pray for the Holy Spirit to transform a disruptive student?

I’m currently working at a really good school. The staff great. My faculty is incredible. The students, in the main, are good to teach.

But, it is not a school connected with a faith system.

And I’m perfectly okay with that.

I wonder about my colleagues who work in Christian schools, especially when it comes to… unruly students.

While I have no doubt that they use many - if not all - the same disciplinary procedures that my current school instigates, what role does faith play?

Does the school expect better behaviour due to its spiritual context?

Do they expect better behaviour if a student has expressed a faith?

For a student who has expressed a faith, can you bring this up with a disruptive student?

What role does prayer and the Holy Spirit play in the behaviour in the classroom?

Do teachers pray for troublesome students? 

Is this an occurrence which happens before difficult classes?

Could you ask for prayer from your colleagues or head teacher?

Do you pray for the Holy Spirit to work in the live of “that” kid?

A fortnight of the alone lifestyle

Currently, my wife is in Europe until the end of the month. Aside from next weekend when I’ll have my girls, I’m living alone. 

Just me and the cat.

For the first time ever I’m living without another human.

In 40+ years.

My living arrangements of the past four decades have gone… living at home with my parents, to living with my first wife, back with my mum and now living with my current wife.

The next fortnight will be, in my memory, the longest that I’ll be living solo.

And, I’m aware that it comes with dangers.

If I sleep in, then no one will wake me.

If I choose to eat corn chips for dinner, no one can stop me.

If I decide to binge Netflix until the wee hours of the morning, there will be no dissenting voices.

I can watch porn.

I can stay in bed all weekend.

I can postpone the washing.

I can do… almost anything.

And no one will stop me.

At the moment, it’s just me. 

And the cat. 

And my conscience.

And the Holy Spirit.

And, this is the danger of living alone.

And why I caution Christian guys against it.

For, anonymity… boredom… and opportunity are the fertiliser of bad ideas.

Indeed, it is not good for a man to be alone.

And, for the next fortnight I’ll be on my lonesome.

Could we still be accused of incest and cannibalism?

In early Christianity there were two prevailing stories.

#1. Love feasts with their brothers and sisters whom share the body and blood.

#2. Incest and cannibalism.

Both could, potentially, be descriptions of the same thing.

Of course, the first description is of early church services involving the sharing of communion.

The second is how it looked, was twisted, or was slandered, by those outside the church.

I wonder, could a similar accusation be levelled today?

Could the practices of a mainline church be so confusing?

Could it be open to such a misinterpretation?

I want to say no. What we do isn’t that weird.

But it is.

I’ve been in the middle of church services and been utterly confused.

I’ve done some very strange things in youth groups and kids clubs and camps.

But could I be accused of incest? 

Cannibalism?

I suspect not.

But it does show that, to those on the outside looking in, they’ve been confused by the rituals Christians do since day one.

The balance has shifted but will never tip all the way

I just added a new topic tab to the side panel of the blog - Teaching.

This shouldn’t be a shock. Being a new teacher, I’ve been progressively writing more about teaching.

With this, primarily, being a blog about me and what’s going on in my life, teaching a gaining a large foothold.

Conversely, vocational youth ministry has taken a back-seat.

I used to do one.

I now do the other.

But, I imagine the former will never overtake the later in the totality of my blog.

Why?

Because I’ll always be writing, in the periphery, about youth ministry.

I still work with teenagers.

My daughters will soon be teenagers.

I’ll still recall lessons I learnt while in youth ministry.

If nothing else, as a topic, youth ministry has a lead of almost 400 posts.

But, teaching do it’s best to catch up.

We aren’t meant to walk on crutches 24/7

 We all use crutches.

Teachers use crutches. Especially at the end of the term or when they are getting snowed under by marking or report writing.

Videos. Worksheets. Textbook work. Recycled lessons. Online learning content.

Those in ministry also use crutches, especially in the crazier times of the liturgical calendar like Easter.

YouTube clips. sermon recordings. Lesson outlines. Packaged curriculum. 

We all need crutches.

They help us when we are burdened or have a limp.

But, we aren’t meant to live on them permanently.

Crutches must be tossed aside, stored away for times of need once we are in a time and space of health.

This is their purpose.

Any other use is a sign that you need to reevaluate how you’re doing things or take a season away and refresh.

The reason people leave that we MUST speak about

Youth ministry drop out points. Again.

I keep returning to this topic because, first of all, it keeps entering my mind. I think about it a lot.

Second, the issue matters. Those who are connected to the church - never mind in vocational ministry - must care about those within the church. This, inevitably, will involve those who transition out of the church.

Third, I genuinely believe that this is a topic that demands to be spoken about. It matters. And enough people don’t think about it or speak about it.

So…here we are again.

But, I also keep returning to this topic because I keep discovering ways that I’ve undersold it. For, it is much bigger, deeper and more complex topic which a series of ages, life stages, or relational steps won’t cover.

And this drop out point is dark.

It is painful.

It is devastating.

Abuse.

Physical.

Sexual.

Spiritual.

This is a drop out point that is self-inflicted by the church.

And, it is one that can result in the door of the church being permanently closed.

But, it exists.

Shamefully.

And, it must be spoken about.

To do otherwise would be to continue a history of silence, wilful ignorance and cover-up.

So… while it hurts to say, abuse must be a factor adding to those leaking out the back door of the church.

The victims.

Their family.

Their friends.