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We had a Taizé-style worship service at Western Theological Seminary the other day, which meant we all sat on the chapel floor. I was by Ben Conner, and after the service both Ben and I creaked and groaned as we tried to stand up. We looked at each other and started laughing. Ben spent 20 years on Young Life staff before coming to Western as a professor. I spent 29 years with Young Life. One of us said, “This is the real reason we left youth ministry. We can hardly get up after sitting on the floor.”
Is there any other aspect of church service packed with as many age issues as youth ministry? No one asks, “What are you going to do when you grow up?” to high school teachers. But I sure heard that question a lot during the early years of my career.
And for good reason. I have a vivid memory of the day I said, “I can’t keep doing this anymore.” I spent a Sunday afternoon playing Risk with a few high school guys. We ordered a pizza with triple cheese, pepperoni, onions and hot peppers. The toppings resembled victimized seabirds after an oil spill as they struggled to separate themselves from the lagoon of grease covering the pizza. We washed it down with Jolt Cola. I’m not sure if Jolt is on the market anymore, but the name said it all. It featured something like triple the sugar and five times the caffeine as tamer sodas like Mountain Dew. After a few hours of letting my inner-Napoleon out on the Risk board, combined with the Jolt and grease-bomb pizza, I drove home in a stupefied haze, like Bonaparte retreating from Moscow. I went straight to bed, only to be up within a few minutes for some projectile vomiting that had that sort of short-term pain for long-term gain magic one feels while submitting to a root canal. My head still ached with a Risk/Jolt/grease hangover, but my stomach settled down. My wife then came in from a trip to the drug store, produced a pregnancy test kit, and a few minutes later showed me a stick with a blue cross on it indicating that we were about to become parents. That’s youth ministry. Others drop acid or take up boxing for this sort of masochistic thrill. I hung out with high school kids.
The energy for shaving cream fights and all-night bus rides was waning. The kids stayed the same age while I kept getting older. I walked up to a group of adolescent boys one day and asked, “Is this where the cool guys hang out?” One of them looked me over and answered, “It was.” I knew it was time to do something else but wasn’t sure what that could be. I had the following marketable skills: I was good at song leading, skits, ping pong, foosball and Frisbee golf.
I stayed with Young Life in other capacities for a long time, but I’d never primarily focus on direct ministry with kids again. God bless those ageless wonders that can keep going into their 40s, 50s, 60s and beyond. I was not one of them.
Youth ministry is sort of the toy department of the church. I’ve been in plenty of youth ministers’ offices that are filled with action figures, various bobble heads, balls of every size and large nets. It’s hard to be taken seriously when your office is where the church stores its nets.
I never had the right name for youth ministry, either: Jeff Munroe was way too plain. Young Life had Darby, Frog, Gumby, Moose, Newt, Crock and Tank. Not only was there Ken Knipp and Tuck Knupp, there was the wondrously named Skeet Tingle and Ty Saltzgiver. I suppose I’d still be with Young Life if only I’d been born Biff Bucklebottom.
And yet . . . the kid that hosted that Risk game is a seminary president today. I see another kid from those days that teaches literature at a local high school. Another is a college professor. Still another a physical therapist. Occasionally I run into another one who always makes me feel good – there had been some rough times in the family shortly before I got to know him, and there was something about him that made me wonder if he would make it or not. He’s turned out to be a good husband and father who volunteers in his church’s youth ministry. His life could have gone one direction, but it didn’t.
I get a little sentimental when I see adults I knew as teenagers who now faithfully lead good lives. I don’t want to go up any climbing walls or ropes courses or sit on the back of a horse ever again. I don’t even want to sit on the floor. But I’m blessed when I see how the lives of kids I once knew are turning out and I know the Risk games and bus rides done not just by me but by thousands of good-hearted adults aren’t in vain.
Brilliant. As usual.
I share these same thoughts as I sit on the floor, do my best to secure Australia, and drink anything that will keep me running. With a name like Tuch I must have been "made for this." Thanks for being a Catcher in the Rye, Jeff.
yes, true enough, but let's consider some other highs of Youth Ministry, particularly long term youth ministry.
when was the last time you sat around with adults in your church, belly laughing for days, interspersed with tears for seeing what God is doing in their lives?
when was the last time you had an exhausting game of ultimate frisbee or basketball or spades with adult parishoners, and on the same day had an adult parishoner open up their hearts and their lives to you?
when was the last time adult parishoners showed their love for by having you pied in the face in front of hundreds of people?
when was the last time you laughed til it hurts watching a woman in your congregation try to say" FLIP ME SOME PEZ" while slobbering and gagging from 12 packs of PEZ in her mouth?
when was the last time you were with adult parishoners, 7 or 10 in a van, singing at the top of your lungs with them 'dancing' in their seats?
when was the last time you met with your consistory or church board and laughed so hard that you cried, thinking o fprogram ideas that were so funny but you could never actually do!!??
when was the last time a room full of people one third or one quarter your age met you with hugs all around the room?
answer: it was probably in your youth ministry years.
and, yes, i dare you not to cry tears of joy just thinking about those kids who have gotten it about Christ, and are now serving others around the world. i am weepy right now thinking of them!
yeah, i wish i could still sit on the floor, or get up after sitting on the floor. BUT, thank you God for those 35 years you gave me with kids!!!!!!!! i wouldnt trade those for anything, NOT EVEN A LIVING WAGE!!
hey, i love being a pastor of adults now. and, the greatest thrill is still riding shotgun when God is doing great stuff in others' lives, even adults!!
… one who knew or knew of Gumby, Moose, Tuck, Ty, and you didn't mention Duffy.
Randy – I sense some ambivalence in your comments – wanting to affirm the great experiences and changed lives you've been a part of while doing youth ministry for decades, but at the same time lamenting that those kind of interactions just don't seem to happen with adults. I also feel a sting in your words about not trading this for anything, "NOT EVEN A LIVING WAGE."
Part of the point I was hoping to make in my post is that youth ministers perform an invaluable service and yet are far down the church priority (and pay) scale. Just because someone is called and willing to work for next to nothing doesn't mean we should let them. I didn't write about the time I discovered that the combination of my income and the number of dependents I had would allow me to apply for public assistance. What did I do with that? My inclination was to mask the pain of it by making a joke of it. But it's no joke.
Am I reading what you're saying correctly?