How should a youth group or church respond to a traumatic event on the other side of the world?

Event.

Reporting.

Reaction.

Reaction to the reaction.

This is the modern news-cycle.

So, how should a church respond to a newsworthy event?

Most of the time, if the event is detected from the congregation personally or geographically, I don’t think there needs to be much more than an acknowledgement.

Name the tragedy. 

Pray about the event.

But, business should proceeded like normal.

No radical change of plans is required.

Of course, this won’t be the case if it’s an event like 911.

Then, all your plans get tossed into the air.

But, not every event is 911.

Most aren’t.

For example, the death of Charlie Kirk isn’t a schedule destroyer if you’re in Australia.

Now, I write that without the intention of offending anyone.

Yes, his death was horrific.

Absolutely, his murder was newsworthy.

But, his assassination must be held in perspective. 

Not one person will have known Charlie Kirk personally.

Not one person will have gone to one of his events.

And, if we change our plans because of a disconnected event on the other side of the world, then we lessen the impact for nearer tragedies.

Personal tragedies.

Community shaping events.

These should redefine what you are doing.

Then, you need to provide more than just an acknowledgement and an additional prayer point.

You need to provide support.

Physical support. 

Emotional support.

Spiritual support.

You need to provide space.

Physical space. 

Emotional space.

Spiritual space.

You need to reinforce the basis of the gospel.

Goodness.

Trust.

Grace.

These are the ways to respond to tragedy.

And, if your going to set aside your original plans, these are the pillars which you build the new plans around - support, space and the gospel.

No, I will not pray FOR Charlie Kirk

Now, I didn’t write this headline because I want to be ruthlessly cancelled by a pitch-fork wielding horde online.

Frankly, I have no strong opinions on Charlie Kirk personally.

Had I heard of him prior to his death? Absolutely. 

He would regularly appear in my social feeds.

Some… maybe even many… of the things he said I would softly agree with.

Other things I’d push back upon.

If nothing else, he was an excellent debater and engaged in public discourse.

Sometimes his message would be clouded by his selected medium.

But, no, I will not pray FOR Charlie Kirk.

I don’t care what any hashtag may want me to do.

I won’t pray for someone who is dead.

Why?

Because I wouldn’t know what to pray for.

I don’t need to intercede for the dead. There time is over.

I certainly don’t need those who have passed to intercede for me. Nothing and no one is required to link myself with God beyond Jesus.

But, I will pray ABOUT Charlie Kirk.

For his widow.

For his kids.

For those who witnessed his murder.

For America.

These are things to pray for.

For, Christianity is a religion of the living, not the deceased.

Is it better to follow up a stinker or a banger?

Every Sunday falls seven days after a Sunday and, in another seven days, another Sunday will roll around.

This is the cycle of church work.

This Sunday’s sermon follows the last Sunday’s  sermon… Which will be followed by next Sunday’s.. And the following… And the following…

So, is it better to follow a stinker of a sermon or a banger?

I’ve done both.

I’ve got no doubt I’ve put those I worked with in the same position.

If course, usually, it won’t be a concern.

Most sermons are… just fine.

Not extraordinarily fantastic.

Not tremendously awful.

Just the typical-calibre sermon that gets delivered 45 times a year.

But, what if you are stepping up the to the pulpit the Sunday after a preaching outlier?

Would you rather be following up a great sermon or one which should be quickly forgotten?

Now, usually, you won’t provide a judgement on the quality of the preceding sermon (especially if it was below par), but the preceding homily-serving will inevitably impact your sermon.

You can build off the back of a memorable sermon.

You can let last Sunday’s sermon lay the platform for you to launch off.

This is the best way to follow up a banger of a predecessor.

Or, you can provide an additional point if you thought the last sermon was a bit thin and then launch into your new offering.

For the sake of your congregation, you’d rather follow on from a good-to-great sermon, but there will inevitably be Sundays when the last pitch from the pulpit was  more of a strike-out than a home-run.

Nonetheless, you can (and should) be faithful, so the person who follows you will be doing so from a firm foundation.

Is there greater fruit in being a minister’s grandkid?

My parents aren’t believers.

Thus, I’ve certainly never personally known what it’s like to be the kid of a minister.

But, I’ve definitely known plenty of minister’s children.

Some embrace the faith of their parents. Many in fact.

Some rebel. 

Some resent.

Some spiritually emancipate themselves.

I often wonder about the pressures put on minister’s kids.

A decade go it was a far greater concern since my offspring were growing up with a parent who was on staff at a church.

As I said above, I’ve seen some kids serve God faithfully and I’ve seen others be openly hostile to all things God and the church.

As my kids grow, even as I’m now - at most - only a volunteer at church, I can see the ways that they are beginning to respond to church.

But what about if it’s your grandparent who is the minister?

Is this a more fertile soil?

Is the relationship a child has with their grandparent more evangelistically  conducive?

I believe it may be since your grandparent - without the 24/7 presence of a parent - can wield greater influence since they are free from the baggage of behind-closed-doors-hypocrisy. 

Of course, grandparent are just as fallen and just as broken as the rest of us, but once they are at the arms-length of Nan or Pop, the witness they can have can be far more impactful.

How paying attention can look different now

What does paying attention look like in 2025?

In the classroom, this will look like a student who is off their electronic device (or using it productively) and working on task.

In the pews, may look like someone taking notes during the sermon with their bible open on their lap.

But, if I am paying attention and engaged in a sermon or bible study, it may not look like it.

Chances are, I will be on my phone.

On it, I will have my bible.

And every translation of the bible.

I will take notes.

I will jot down ideas for future Tiny Bible Bits.

You will know if I’m engaged because I will be looking up things online.

I will be quickly chasing rabbit-holes.

I will be checking anything which does sit quite right.

I will be confirming speculations which pop into my mind.

A generation ago this would have been rude.

Without knowing what I’m doing, I may look distracted.

But, this can be how paying attention can look in 2025.

Do we consume the bible like we do TikTok?

My daughters, for a while, had been asking to watch the Marvel films catalogue.

Consequently, over the last few months, we’ve been (selectively) working our way through the MCU.

At least I have been with my youngest.

My eldest, who wanted to watch the films more, has barely been able to sit through an entire film.

The reason is simple, and in part, is the reason she wanted to watch the movies in the first place.

She’s seen the shorts online.

She’s viewed small snippets of the best bits.

She’s been exposed to the most action-packed, humour-quipped, tear-jerking moments.

But, she cannot stomach the plot which connects these fragments.

She isn’t prepared to put in the effort to get the underlying plot which adds the meaning.

Do we consume the bible in the same way?

Do we just expose ourselves to the greatest hits?

Are we just familiar with the Sunday shorts?

When we’re younger, this is definitely the way we serve up the scriptures.

Bite-sized.

Easily-consumable.

Hopefully, alongside a story which has a drama or a craft activity.

But, we exclude some of the passages which add depth to these passages.

We cut Deuteronomy.

We skim over Isaiah and Jeremiah.

We leave Romans for “when they’re older”.

But, in doing this, we reduce the bible to a series of disconnected shorts.

We rob the bible of an overarching salvation narrative.

Worse still, we condition our young people to only be able to consume the bible in easily-digestible chunks.

How important is good banter in my classroom?

If the title of this post replaced the word important with essential, then the answer would be simple.

None.

Good banter isn’t essential.

Neither is laughter.

Or enjoyment.

But all three are included in my classroom.

And they make things better.

In fact, they make my classes, mine.

For, I have a pretty good banter game.

I tell corny jokes (even if it’s only to entertain myself at times).

I will have, at times, the most energetic classes in the school.

I’ll act.

I’ll throw myself on the ground and loudly wail in order to demonstrate Ancient Egyptian funeral practices.

I’ll do what it takes to not only communicate the content of my lessons, but that I really enjoy educating and, specifically, teaching my subjects.

This happens best if I’m authentically teaching.

And… I’m funny (or at least witty).

I’m loud.

I’m energetic.

I’m shameless.

Without anything getting out of control, and with the boundaries clearly put in place and firmly kept, I will engage in some friendly banter.

This is not “ya mum” or “that’s what she said.”

This is crap banter.

Good banter is productive…

Usually, it will help me build rapport with my students.

Often, it will help students develop social skills.

It will cultivate sense of belonging.

It will, always, add the flavour that this class as one taught by me.

Of course, the aim is never to be friends with my students. 

But, I can (and should), be friendly.

It must remain clear that I’m both the adult AND the professional in the room.

But, a classroom without quality banter… wouldn’t be a classroom where I’m the teacher.

The obstacles when you’re not acclimatised

While my wife and I were in Europe over the last school holidays we did something which we always find a challenge - we hired a car.

Of course, the major challenge for an Australian driving in Europe is that you need to drive on the opposite side of the road.

Thankfully, after a few days we both adjusted (even if I did routinely turn on the windscreen wipers when I intended to indicate a turn), but the first few hours were hairy for both driver and passenger.

Everything was just a little more difficult.

Everything required just a lot more concentration.

Because everything was unfamiliar.

Whenever you do something new, or for the first time in a long while, everything takes a while to fall into place.

It’s true for driving.

It’s true for teaching.

It’s true for preaching.

It takes a while for your body to acclimatise to the rigours of a new activity.

But the place I most encounter this is whenever I ride a bike.

Frankly, I’m not brilliant on a bicycle.

I can ride, but I only ever do so sporadically - and usually in Europe.

This last time, my body reminded me that I was not acclimatised to the physical toll that the task would bring.

But, no matter if it is driving on the right side of the road, riding in the saddle, in the classroom or at the pulpit, there are consequences of unfamiliarity.

Everything is more pronounced.

Small things are off-putting.

You lack the ability to look far ahead.

You overly rely upon expert advice.

You require greater preparation.

You’re more drained after the activity.

Every stage is prolonged.

No matter what it is, but especially in the areas of teaching and preaching, new practitioners must be warned about the snares of unfamiliarity.

This is especially true if they are used to watching experienced veterans.

For, as it takes more time to get ready, you get rocked by the unexpected and you lack the foresight to see trouble approaching, you need a gentle reminder that your mind and body will acclimatise.

The thoughts which must be haunting a church visitor

At my school I am both the coordinator for incoming year 7’s and Peer Support. As such, I get the…. privilege… to see brand new high school students from their very first days.

For some kids, coming to high school isn’t too scary.

Of course, the campus is new and it’s full of large unfamiliar people, but there are some things which can soften the initial shock - friends and siblings.

Having an older sibling will allow a youngster to see a family member confidently negotiate the incoming change.

Having a social group (usually from their primary school) will allow a student familiar peers to face the new obstacles with.

Not every student have these softeners.

Every year contains students who are throughly on their lonesome.

Maybe you remember your first day at high school.

Frankly, I don’t remember mine. But, I certainly did have a day when I initially walked into my high school for the first time.

Do you recall your first day at church?

Again, I don’t recall mine. But I know it would have been when I was in, or around, year 7.

But, I have entered plenty of churches for the first time.

Sometimes it has been as a new employee.

Other times it has been as a potential congregant.

Certainly, no matter the reason, it has always been easier if there has been someone whom I already know or I am not entering by myself.

That’s why, I think the bravest church-seeker is the single young adult.

If they are searching for a new church, no matter if they are a believer or someone exploring Christianity, there is a decent chance that they are doing so alone.

This should make any single-twenty-something visitor to a church a minor miracle.

They are, potentially, stepping into a foreign space for the first time in many years.

They are, potentially, back into the shoes of themselves on day-one of high school.

And, again, already familiar relationships soften the landing in a new church.

But, if you’re a young adult who has moved into a new area, searching for a new faith community must be quite intimidating.

I wonder, if we remain mindful of our first day of high school, how would it affect the way we view and treat those who are visiting our places of worship for the first time?

The enjoyment in-balance of church

My wife and I just returned from a holiday to Europe. Being part German, she goes every year, I only head over every second year.

The itinerary usually breaks down to a mixture of cathedrals/churches/monasteries, Roman ruins, Medieval towns, picturesque German villages and the obligatory family visitations.

This year, while we were in Bonn, we ended up listening to a choir concert within one of the local Doms.

My wife, who sings choral, loved it.

I endured it.

In attendance because I knew that she would throughly enjoy it.

Unsurprisingly, she appreciated the concert on a whole different level than I did.

She recognised the songs.

She knew the composers (a few even personally).

She valued the quality of the singing in a far deeper way than I could.

The equivalent would be when my wife and I attend a sporting event.

I, having followed the sport - be it cricket or rugby league - will understand what’s happening far more than my spouse.

I will know the intricacies of the rules and the stories within the contest.

In short, I will appreciate the event on a similar level to my wife in a choir concert.

And yet, we both attend.

I wonder if this is a similar feeling within churches.

Some people are very engaged.

They are comfortable with the social cues.

They are deeply familiar with the context of the stories.

They are personally engaged with the message and, often, the messengers.

How does this dynamic play out when you’re in a relationship where one of your has been a believer, or at least a member of a particular church, for a long time which your partner is still fairly unfamiliar?

Is there a disconnect in the enjoyment of the experience?

Is there a greater reluctance to attend?

There are many good reasons for believers to avoid entering romantic relationships with unbelievers, but the inability to share church with that person is something which I feel is underplayed.

The REAL purpose of High School

Of course, the answer is to learn.

Der.

As a teacher, this SHOULD be my response.

But, as a teacher, I also know that school doesn’t work for everyone.

For some kids, learning is not the primary purpose of school.

It’s certainly not the primary result.

Frankly, it wasn’t for me.

I was more interested in hanging with my mates and having fun.

Lunch was, at least, of equal importance as any other part of the school day.

I learnt to love studying after my years in high school.

For some kids, the structures of school, don’t combine well with their personalities or upbringing.

It would be an imaginary pipe-dream to think that every high schooler had a passion for their education.

This is why I think that formal education is only a part of the point of high school.

Personally, I think that high school is a success if you discover three things.

An identity.

A tribe.

A passion.

You should leave high school with a firm idea of what you believe. What you stand up for. What you will stand against.

This is your identity.

You should leave with a group you belong to. A bunch of people who accept you. A group you find support in. 

This is your tribe.

You should leave high school with a sense of what you enjoy. What you’re good at. What interests you.

This is your passion.

Over the six years of high school, if all you leave with is a result which concluded with your final exams, then I think you’ve missed some of the most significant elements of high school.

If you depart with an identity, tribe and passion, then you’re equipped to launch into your next stage of life - even if you don’t academically achieve everything you could have.

With a firm identity, a supportive tribe and a passion to drive you, then you’re ready for the next steps of young-adulthood.

The support team every youth minister should have

Everyone has ministry blind spots.

I believe this is no more evident than youth ministry.

Within this context you’ll be working with children, teens, young adults, adults and oldies.

You’ll significantly cross paths with those of every life stage.

You’ll juggle the needs and expectations of longtime congregants, new believers, families, singles, senior ministers, lay leaders and colleagues.

At times, you’ll feel dragged in a dozen different directions and under the weight of a dozen masters.

So, what can a church do to help?

One thing my first ministry position did - which I didn’t fully appreciate at the time - was to establish a youth ministry team.

The point of this team, primarily, was support.

They would hear my ideas first.

They would be a place to spitball options.

They would be a place to be held accountable.

They would be a place to ask questions.

They would be a place to be questioned.

Most importantly, they would be the place to expose my blind spots.

They would identify issues.

They would raise potential concerns.

They would, most of all, encourage.

But, as I said earlier, they would be a means of support.

They would be the sternest defenders of the ministry.

They would cut off criticism before I ever heard it.

They would put out fires before they reached me.

For, on this team were a diverse mix.

A couple of parents.

A member of each congregation of the church.

A long term influential member of the church.

Someone who initially helped set up the ministry.

A committed teen.

A experienced youth leader.

A trainee leader.

Someone connected to a youngster transitioning into the ministry.

Someone connected to someone transitioning out of the ministry.

A ministry veteran. 

A prayer warrior.

With this diverse group, important decisions can be viewed from alternate perspectives.

As many bling spots as possible should be brought into light.

Vitally, this group should outlive the current ministry agent.

They will be the continuing structure which any new person will step into.

 

Ideally, this group of people will be the network of defence and support which the youth minister will treasure and result in, not just a better thought out and well-rounded ministry, but a placement which is more prepared and peaceful.

Why the late families deserve double the praise

Today the kids and I were late to church.

Not dramatically late, but late nonetheless.

As someone who used to run activities for youngsters on a Sunday morning, it was customary for me to track the arrivals of families on a Sunday morning.

Inevitably, some families would stumble in after the start of the service.

Honestly, I used to get slightly annoyed by the tardiness of some families.

I certainly wouldn’t do that now.

Now, I would be even more thankful that they have turned up to church.

Why?

Because a late family, surely, didn’t intent to be late.

But something happened.

There was an argument…

Breakfast was a struggle…

One of the kids had a meltdown…

Tired parents allowed their kids to sleep an extra 15 minutes…

And, as this situation played out, they had the chance to not attend church.

It ran through my mind this morning.

We could, very easily, have chosen to not attend church this morning.

Taking the girls out to a lazy breakfast was tempting.

But, every late family has decided that church, despite any obstacles, was worth turning up for.

This should be honoured, not looked down upon.

The modern question which is only getting louder

In the past, you may question the originality of something you hear in church.

Perhaps you wonder if they read their outline in a book.

Maybe they have heard it in another sermon.

In the near past, these questions have only gotten louder.

With the invention of the internet, the net for “inspiration” has widened exponentially.

Now, with AI, the net is again being redesigned.

But, this kicks open the door for everything now to be placed into question.

“Is that AI?” I suspect, will be a query which will reverberate around churches far more than any previous ponderance of originality. 

When you’re unknowingly the illustration

I’m not Taylor Swift.

I am not even famous.

I am not a minister’s kid.

I’m not even married to a preacher.

As a result, I’ve probably never unknowingly appeared as a sermon illustration.

But I know of times when something I’ve done has been mentioned.

I’m aware of conversations I’ve been involved in weaselling their way into sermons.

Of course, I’ve been the primary focus of illustrations that I’ve used while preaching.

But I wonder how I would feel if I stumbled across a sermon where I was an illustration.

Obviously, the underlying point would be a significant factor.

Was I a positive or negative example?

Was I an illustration of foolishness or wisdom?

Was I a picture of selfishness or faithfulness?

Chances are, if I get randomly mentioned in a small western Sydney church, I’ll never know - no matter what context or what connection may or may not have previously existed.

I’m curious of what episodes of my life would even make it into a sermon…

Nonetheless, whenever we hear an illustrative tale woven into a homily, we should be reminded of the way God also works in our life and that, potentially, the way we act in church, school, university, home or church can equally become illustrative fodder.

Why youngsters should hear stories of mission over sermons

Lately my eldest has been staying in church for the entire service.

Honestly, the sermons haven’t been a focal point as she has usually well and truely zoned out by then and is immersed in a digital device.

But, my teen has had the opportunity to hear from a number of missionaries over the last few weeks as my (and many Baptist churches throughout NSW) focus on mission work over the month of May.

I suspect this would be far more valuable than a sermon.

As as young person, I want her to see the relevance of Christianity, not just hear the theology.

I want her to hear the stories of lived out faithfulness, not just hear exposition of a passage.

I want her to gain a global perspective of things such as poverty and persecution.

If young people need to be in a church service - no matter if is for the entire service or just the time before they depart for their separate activities - exposing them to genuine stories of mission is time we’ll spent and, frankly, some of the more impactful things they will hear on any given Sunday.

The reverse prayer

Do you ever wonder what the other person is praying?

It’s not uncommon for a Christian to pray about a difficult personal situation at work, school, university or church.

Maybe there has been a misunderstanding.

Or a confrontation.

Or an impending confrontation.

Often, we pray for clarity or boldness.

But, do we ever consider that the other person on the other end of our prayer request may themselves be praying.

Praying for themselves.

Praying about the situation.

Praying about us.

What do you think they will be praying for?

Clarity?

Boldness?

Understanding?

If we stop to consider how the other person may be praying through the exact same situation which has brought us to prayer, then maybe the change of perspective will soften our hearts and transform our petitions.

How I can teach other religions and why I want to teach them well

I’m fairly unusual.

I can wrestle aloud with the bible, the incarnation, the trinity, the way God reveals Himself and the questions surround creation, suffering and the afterlife.

I can tell you about the Four Rightly Guided Caliphs, the Quran, the Hadith, the six foundational beliefs of Islam, the Five Pillars and Islamic jurisprudence.

I can outline the Four Noble Truths, the Eightfold Path, the Tripitaka and the Five Precepts. 

As a part of my job I get to teach senior-high-school students about religion.

I get to take interested teens in a deep dive into Christianity, Islam and Buddhism (amongst others).

As a consequence, I know a fair bit about these three faiths.

I can tell you about the historical contexts, origins, expansion, founders, principal beliefs, sacred texts, ethical decision making principles and practical out-workings across three worldviews.

This makes me unusual.

Many others Christians couldn’t tell you about the any more than the very basic details of other religions.

Of course, the temptation is to be biased.

To let my personal worldview colour the way I present the alternate viewpoints.

But, I don’t.

I try to be fair.

As a foundation of my subject, I must be impartial.

My subject must be based upon understanding.

It must steer away from conversion.

And, I appreciate this.

For, I think there is nothing at all wrong about presenting faiths fairly - including Christianity.

Why?

Because I don’t want to be giving Christianity an unfair advantage which, frankly, it doesn’t need.

Christianity can stand up for itself.

Jesus can stand up for himself.

The bible can stand up for itself.

They don’t need me to defend them.

All they need is for me to be clear.

Just as I need to be for the Islamic and Buddhist faiths.

And, when presented with all the facts, I think it is a sign of faith to believe that Christianity shows itself to be trustworthy.

The fight - or classroom - doesn’t need to be rigged in its favour…

Seeing my previous decisions from a different life perspective

I started in youth ministry in my mid-twenties.

I started youth ministry while single.

I started youth ministry without kids.

A lot has changed over the last two decades.

Now, I view life and church - understandably - quite differently.

When I look back at some of the decisions I made, I cringe.

I now see that they were shortsighted.

I now see that they were impulsive.

I now see that they were - in the best of ways - ignorant.

For, I didn’t have the experience of being in ministry and church structures.

I didn’t have the experience of being married.

I didn’t have the experience of being a parent.

Now, I’d do plenty of things differently.

Slower.

More deliberate.

More considerate.

More gracious (hopefully!).

For, with the perspective of my current life-stage, I can now see that I made plenty of, frankly, preventable ministry missteps.

My mandatory casual teaching hacks

I was very fortunate in the breakdown of my first year in teaching.

On the back of COVID, I was employed in a school as a combined classroom teacher and a school-wide casual.

This was advantageous because it meant that I had a slightly lighter lesson load - and thus less prep in my first year - and allowed me to be exposed to casual teaching - and the important lessons it teaches fledgling teachers - in a familiar environment.

While I had the, frankly unfair, upper hand over other casual teachers since I was a staff member, there were a number of significant lessons which this unpredictable teaching schedule provided.

First, I picked up a lot of vital classroom management strategies.

The first was to use names.

Again, I had the advantage of having access to school systems, but when I began teaching I through that generic dissipations like “year 9” would suffice to get attention. 

It doesn’t.

Using names is the secret sauce.

And the best way to nail names as a casual teacher is to use the mandatory roll marking to identify students.

Ideally, if the roll has student photos attached the easier this will be, but as you mark the roll, you can insert the names of students into the blank template of the classroom.

At worst, this can be (at least in part) achieved over the course of the first activity during the lesson.

When you are armed with names, then the class runs a lot smoother.

Furthermore, the best advice I have gleaned about casual teaching is to start the lesson by writing all instructions on the board and number the things required during the lesson.

The reason for this is simple.

It is much easier to ask a student what number they are up to, or instruct them by simply using the number of the activities in the board to keep the class on track.

Better yet, if all the instructions are on the board, then you can allocate times when you either expect the, to have completed each task or when you will be going through the various activities.

Finally, all casual teachers should explicitly tell the class that they will be reporting on the lesson to the usual classroom teacher and informing the teacher precisely what work the students should have got through (which hopefully aligns with the amount of work which was left for the class).

Again, I had the advantage of being able to personally speak with the teacher if my usual summary email was not sufficient.