It was near the end of a long committee meeting, and we were discussing the necessity of an overnight “staff lock-in” that would occur in preparation for an upcoming event. As I pressed the group of youth and adults to name the purpose for what felt like an “extra” event in a very packed calendar, one young member of the group raised his hand. He said with a smile, “Because it’s fun. Does it have to be more than that?” We decided to keep the staff lock-in for a variety of reasons, but this comment has stuck with me.
I confess that I had allowed the thought of the event to become “work.” It felt like one more thing “to do” on a long list. Maybe you can relate. But this young man’s comment reminded me that the issue wasn’t purpose as much as perspective. To him this event was an opportunity to be with people he enjoyed, to share stories, and to laugh. Yes, there would be “God stuff” and “tasks” to complete. But his priority was relationship, friendship, and community. While I had allowed mine to become efficiency.
I experienced this again last weekend at our annual Diocesan Convention. At the end of our first day of workshops, worship, speakers, and business sessions, there is a banquet followed by a dance. And when I say dance, I mean a DANCE. This is not the awkward moment at the wedding when everyone is waiting for someone else to dance. Everyone is on the dance floor having a good time.
Last year I was really too tired to dance and went up to my hotel room after the banquet. I know. Lame. But thankfully, this year I was out there cutting it up with that beautifully diverse group of dancers. I heard another delegate say the next day how much he loved that our diocese “danced the night away” after a long day of business. I couldn’t agree more. It was fun. I felt closer to my companions in ministry, and I felt free to be myself. “Because it’s fun” is a great reason to do something when it helps develop meaningful relationships and forms deep community.
Why are the simple questions often the hardest? It seems obvious that our ministry efforts with young people are intended to help them navigate the path from adolescence to adulthood and mature in their faith. But as soon as adults begin a conversation about youth ministry, there will be a former camp counselor or Sunday school teacher whose hand will shoot up, and passionately explain that they “get way more out of youth ministry than the kids do.” I know exactly what they mean. Young people are insightful, passionate, and they demand authenticity. They challenge us, bless us, and often teach us. So yes, what we “get” ouf of youth ministry will often feel like much more than we give.
I just think we have to be careful here. After all, we are the adults. And as many great things as there are about adolescents, we don’t want them to stay adolescents. At least I don’t think we do. If we hope to help them walk the path to adulthood and grow in their faith, then they need us. And many writers and researchers today would say they really need us. Professor and Youth Ministry veteran Chap Clark says quite plainly in his book Hurt that, “The fact is that adolescents need adults to become adults, and when adults are not present and involved in their lives, they are forced to figure out how to survive life on their own.”
The great truth is that youth ministries help everyone involved to encounter God and grow in faith. But I think we should be clear that the ministry is FOR the youth. Otherwise, we can start to believe that “the kids are alright” and they don’t need us, or even grow complacent in pursuing our own mature faith. If we truly are “getting more out of youth ministry than the kids,” it could be an indication that we need to grow a little deeper, so that we can give a little more.
Lately I’ve been preparing for a youth event called Miqra (meek•rah) that’s coming up in our diocese. It’s a weekend retreat that was started in the Diocese of Kansas, and it centers around the Bible. One of the main activities during the event is an ongoing reading of scripture that goes around the clock. Throughout the weekend the participants read the entire Bible from Genesis to Revelation. Youth and adults volunteer to read and sign up for time slots on a sort of tag-team schedule. The reading takes 72 hours.
My first encounter with this event was in 2003, when I began as the Youth Coordinator for the Diocese of Kansas. The event had been held for the first time the previous year and had started in a very grass roots fashion. A group of youth approached their youth leader at the time, the Rev. Kelly Demo, saying they wanted to know more about the Bible. So they began to dream up an event where youth could interact with the Bible, engage with it, ask questions, and learn about God’s “love letter to the world.” Miqra was the end product, and I was somewhat flabberghasted by the concept. It was audacious but simple. Bring youth together. Put a chair and a Bible at the front of the sanctuary. Have them take turns reading the Bible out loud for thirty minutes to an hour. And while the reading continues, have a good old-fashioned youth event with games, singing, workshops, worship, great meals, and small group discussions with the Bible as the focus. And don’t forget to let the youth wander into the sanctuary once in a while and just listen to the reading.
I think the power of the event is that it simply gives young people an opportunity to encounter the Bible, and ultimately to encounter God. Miqra has had a sustained impact in the Diocese of Kansas and beyond. The event has grown for the past twelve years and has spread to other churches and dioceses as well. As last year’s youth preacher said at the Miqra event in Kansas, we shouldn’t underestimate God. Simple ideas can be very powerful if we are faithful and trust that God is faithful to us.