Walking a Thin Line

Let's play an SAT-style buzzword comparison game...

Missional : Emerging Church
as
_______ : Youth Ministry

a) Chubby Bunny
b) Lock-Ins
c) Strong Coffee
d) Relational Ministry


The answer, of course, is (d).

Everyone is talking about relational ministry these days, and with good reason. With the growth of a communications platform that has increased the volume of our interaction with people and decreased the quality of these connections, young people are craving meaningful face-to-face relationships. The questions I continue to ask revolve around why? (purpose) and how? (praxis).


The poster boy of cerebral youth ministers and pomo-theologian, Dr. Andrew Root, has milked three excellent books out of the premise that relational ministry is about encountering Christ in "the other" with no pretense or agenda. He rejects the traditional notions of relational ministry as a means to an end -- attendance at youth group, for example -- and calls ministers to a level of authenticity that is both beautiful and terrifying. I, for one, am totally on board with Root's thesis and still find myself re-reading Revisiting Relational Ministry often.


So, assuming a Root-ian understanding of why?, I delve into the more difficult question of how?

There are two things that make me paranoid as a youth minister: boundaries and favoritism. These can be manifested in similar ways, but they are ultimately unique by the damage they can do to both student and adult. If an adult minister favors certain kids, it can hurt the feelings of those that feel left out of the "cool church kid crowd" (no, it's not an oxymoron). However, if the minister exhibits bad boundaries in the topics they discuss, in the locations they meet, in the amount of time they get together, or in their physical interaction, it can damage both the psychological development of the student and the livelihood of the minister.


I am cognisant of boundaries and favoritism in how I approach relational ministry...but, at times, I wonder how I'm doing at walking the thin line of healthy, effective relational ministry. So I'd like to invite a little koinonia conversation about how church folks can do relational ministry the "right" way. Feel free to share your ideas, stories, and questions.

A Happier Person

My beloved wife of eight years (our anniversary is today) passed along a quote to me a few weeks ago. This quote has become increasingly relevant for me in the midst of congregational life.

"If you want to be a happier person, it's critical to remember two things. First, certainly not all, but most people really are doing the best that they can. Really, they are. The second thing to remember is that almost everything is more difficult and complicated than it looks."

~ Richard Carlson, PhD

Jay Bakker once said that churches are hospitals for broken souls...the only difference is that, in the church, there are no doctors; only patients. I agree. Sometimes people (clergy and staff included) bring their baggage to church and function below prime capacity. In moments when I vilify and demonize people who mistreat me, I am reminded that they are almost always trying their best...even if I think they can do better.

God's grace is sufficient for them...and for me, too.

The Revolution and Evolution of Twitter

Just read a fascinating Time article about "How Twitter Will Change the World".

Money Quote:

Last month an anticommunist uprising in Moldova was organized via Twitter. Twitter has become so widely used among political activists in China that the government recently blocked access to it, in an attempt to censor discussion of the 20th anniversary of the Tiananmen Square massacre. A service called SickCity scans the Twitter feeds from multiple urban areas, tracking references to flu and fever. Celebrity Twitterers like Kutcher have directed their vast followings toward charitable causes (in Kutcher's case, the Malaria No More organization).

My use of Twitter has morphed from a fun little application that channels my self-indulgence to serving as my main source of information for life and ministry. I never thought it would be such an essential resource.

Do you use Twitter? Why or why not?

Four Stars

A few weekends ago, I made a return "home" to Waverly, IA...the place where I spent my college years. I was amazed at how much cooler this little town of 9,000 people had become since I graduated in 2001 (and this is only 9 months after 1/2 of the town was under water due to record flooding in June 2008). Subway moved to a larger spot...Hardee's turned into Family Video...they added a Pizza Ranch and a Domino's within a few blocks from campus...there were at least 3 new bars that looked pretty cool...they gave the Hy-Vee an extreme makeover...Wal-Mart became "Super"...Applebee's showed up...even the golf courses had been redone.

Amidst all of the progress is a, right on the main drag across from campus, you will find a tradition unlike any other -- The Other Place. Everything about this joint was the same as I had left it...right down to the tacky "Prime Rib special" sign out front that hadn't been changed in 10 years. Upon entering, I was greeted by the stale air of cigarette smoke (even though smoking has been banned in restaurants for over a year) and all-you-can-eat popcorn. I grabbed a faux wood bowl for each of my two comrades before sitting down. We had the place almost entirely to ourselves.

The waitress (who called us all "hon" and "dear" throughout our stay) brought menus. Silly woman. There was no need. I knew exactly what we wanted. A large FourStar pizza, a pitcher of 1919 root beer, and three frosty mugs -- a.k.a. The Friday Night Special.

Our diner-quality waitress did a double-take. I had placed the order with the prowess and panache of a townie...but she had never seen me before. In fact, I hadn't darkened the OP doors since May 2001. Clearly, she was in the presence of true greatness. Needless to say, not only did I arrive, but I brought the fire.



The origins of the Friday Night Special dated back to my freshman year of college. New friend and future best man, Sir Daniel Robert Bock, would accompany me to the OP on Fridays, just as our friends were getting their drink on. It's not that we refused to be in the presence of *gasp* under-age drinking on a college campus...it just wasn't our scene at that point. We just wanted to eat good food and talk for hours. The FourStar pizza - an intoxicating blend of sausage, mushroom, pepperoni, green peppers, and a metric ton of cheese - didn't just fill our (growing) bellies with deliciousness. Those nights filled our souls with great conversation and an evolving kinship that we shared during our college years.


Sadly, like many college friendships, Dan and I fell out of touch in the years that followed graduation. I got married. He moved to Denver. I moved to Illinois. He got married. I had kids. He got a dog. I moved to Des Moines. He had kids. Yadda yadda yadda. In other words, life got in the way...or, more appropriately, we allowed life to get in the way. We would catch up on the phone every few months; always ending with the usual "we need to do this more often" caveat that was never fulfilled. (To be fair, he was always better than I was at picking up the phone.) We completely lost touch a few years ago. Maybe he was discouraged that I never called him...maybe he just got invested in his own rocky mountain reality...or maybe this is just what happens when you turn 30 and live 500 miles apart.

No matter what, though, every time I go to the OP on Bremer Ave. and order way too much pizza and pop, I'll think of my good friend Dan...and the special times we had on Friday Nights.