Youth Work From Scratch (eBook)

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Why?

You’ve decided to get involved in youth ministry. Why?

It’s a pretty good and important first question. And, at one level, I can’t possibly know the answer or hope to provide one. Working with young people is alternately the most rewarding and the most demanding ministry I know of: no one gets into it for the money, the fame, or the glory. On a personal level, either you have had a sense of calling (or vocation) or a persuasive phone call from a church or local leader, or you’ve realized that no one else is rolling their sleeves up to serve young people in your community. So I’m not really asking why you’ve picked up this book; rather I’m asking – why should any of us bother with youth ministry?

A gospel for everyone

Most simply, the answer to that is that God clearly doesn’t have a lower age limit in mind when he invites us into relationship with him. Jesus staggered the disciples with his request to “let the little children come to me” (Matthew 19:14), because, in their culture, children were lesser citizens, intended to be seen and not heard. It seemed preposterous to them that a rabbi would be interested in children who were not yet of an age at which they might traditionally begin their discipleship. Yet Jesus is – and He goes further, pointing out that childlike faith is something not just to be cherished, but to be aimed for in adulthood. Obviously Jesus isn’t advocating childish and immature theology, but the idea of a childlike approach to faith is very positive: one which accepts a higher authority; which has no place for cynicism; and is abundant in love, quick to forgive, compassionate, and trusting. Jesus is saying that the faith of children isn’t just to be applauded but replicated.

The disciples themselves may well have been young people. We know they were mostly young men; in the case of the fishermen, many commentators believe they were teenagers at the time Jesus called them. It’s a little bit of a stretch to say that, as a result, Jesus was the first youth worker, but it is true to say that He believed in young people, He invested in them, and over the course of three years apprenticed them to the point at which He was happy to leave them in charge of the master plan to build His church.

In the Old Testament, there seems to be no line or distinction drawn between God’s young and old followers either. For the people of Israel, family life revolved around God – everyone in the family unit was on the journey of learning the Scriptures, understanding the sacrificial system, and perhaps most importantly understanding the grand story of Israel’s relationship with God. Parents invested in bringing up children to receive the faith that they carried (see Psalm 78:1–8); they would look forward to annual camping trips on which they would stay together in “Succoth huts” (see Leviticus 23:34–43). The week-long Feast of Tabernacles wouldn’t have been a dull duty but a highlight of the family’s year, as for seven days all Israel would celebrate together the stories of what God had done for them. Children weren’t on the outside, but rather at the centre of this and other festivals. When God tells “all Israel” to come together, He isn’t just talking about the adults.

What does all this mean for us now? It means that whether or not we choose to invest in young people is not a question of rota capacity or our own personal vision. It’s a question of obedience to God. There is no group of people that God isn’t interested in. In fact, He seems to show a particular passion at times for our investment in the next generation. We do youth work because God loves young people.

A lost generation?

Newspaper headlines are dangerous things. Not only do they report the news; in many cases they reinforce or even create it. A good example of this, with which certain sections of the media are obsessed, is house prices. In the UK over the last quarter of a century, house prices have risen so fast, so totally out of proportion with earnings and basic common sense, that many people who might have expected to be able to afford a home find themselves unable to clutch at even the bottom rung of the “housing ladder”. At the same time, certain newspapers have found this subject enthralling enough to devote a huge and uneven proportion of their annual front-page space to talking about it. “House Prices Rocketing Again” was a familiar sight throughout the 1990s and early 2000s; “Home Market to Crash” is a more recent stuck-record example. In both cases the prophecies have usually proved accurate. Of course they have. Greedy (in boom times) or desperate (more recently) estate agents have used these headlines – and the sense of public confidence or lack thereof that they create – to manage sales, and either inflate prices (leading to that unnatural growth curve) or generate price cuts from worried sellers. The newspaper headlines (which most of us see, even if we don’t read the newspapers themselves) play a huge part in setting the mood of a nation on a range of subjects. One of these is young people.

Negative headlines about young people have abounded for the last decade. A generation of teenagers have been demonized as malicious “hoodies” who deliberately congregate in intimidating packs. By reporting the negative and regrettable actions of a few young people, and by using emotive language like “feral”, “yobs”, and “thugs”, the same newspaper front pages that have caused house prices to rise and fall have stigmatized and stereotyped an entire generation. In reaction, the readers of those papers, indoctrinated by a potent mix of loaded reporting, prejudice, and the all-important sliver of truth (because some young people do behave horribly), subtly change their behaviour and attitudes towards young people. They cross the street when they see a teenager in a hoody, unaware that in all probability they’re avoiding a fourteen-year-old girl returning home from a cold hockey practice. While as a society we still cherish our children, we’ve begun to develop a fear of our teenagers.

This fear, this act of crossing-the-street-to-avoid, does not go unnoticed by the teenagers themselves. They are developing a corporate sense of rejection, fuelled not only by the newspaper headlines and the regrettable actions of a few, but also by factors such as rising youth unemployment and the spiralling costs of further education. More than rejected, they feel let down, abandoned even – as a group they are not confident that their future is brighter than their present; not since the 1980s has a generation had to live in a context of depressed hope.

And this, of course, is where the church comes in. This is where we have something prophetic, practical, and powerful to say to young people. That there is hope – for them and for the world; that they are valuable and valued, both by us and infinitely more by the real and living God. Never has a generation needed good news more than this one. We don’t just have an opportunity to share it with them; I believe we have a responsibility to do so. God loves young people; the world has rejected them. Which side of that equation do you think we should be on?

The church needs a future

During seven years as editor of Youthwork magazine, I was occasionally asked to be a guest on “Inspirational Breakfast”, the flagship morning show on the London-based Premier Christian Radio, with whom Youthwork shared offices and a parent media group. An early show meant an early start, and I’ll admit to occasionally being grumpy during these interviews as a result.

One such morning, the topic of the live phone-in was set around my appearance on the show; something like: “Why your church should be doing more youth work.” The idea was that we would take calls from Christians who wanted to start a youth-work project but didn’t know where to start (sound familiar?), and I would give some basic advice from my limited fount of wisdom. The host was enthusiastic about the subject, and gave it an impassioned introduction. The interview began, and we were excited to see the red lights of the phone system lighting up – a sign that people were engaging with the topic and were calling in with their questions. The host put the first caller on air. Let’s call her Doreen.

“Good morning, Doreen,” said the host. “What’s your question for Martin?”

“Oh, I don’t want to talk to Martin,” replied Doreen briskly. “I just wanted to wish my amazing pastor (let’s call him Pastor Phil) a very happy birthday.”

Fair enough. Pastor Phil was a very influential figure in the London church; it was his birthday; Doreen was a fan. An amusing blip.

Or rather, not. Because the next caller was also ringing with birthday wishes for Pastor Phil. And the next one. And the next. The minutes ticked by, and as hard as the host and I tried to sound interesting about youth ministry, the eulogistic birthday greetings just kept coming. There were no callers who wanted to talk about young people and the church. Not any.

Five minutes from the end of my slot, I lost it. After what must have been the twentieth straight call from a member of Pastor Phil’s congregation (I still swear he put them up to it), I grabbed the microphone and pretty...